The Nicobar narrative

Dear Reader,

Recently, I attended the release of the book, The Great Nicobar Betrayal (A Frontline Publication), curated by author, photographer and environmental activist, Pankaj Sekhsaria, at the Bangalore International Centre. The book is a collection of insightful essays on the mega infrastructure project that the government plans to develop on the Great Nicobar Island—a pristine stretch of land on the Indian Ocean that is home to several endangered and endemic species of plants and animals, and the ancient tribal community of the Shompen people. Much of the forests and the coastline would be destroyed if the project materialises—the essays highlight what we will lose irretrievably, putting enormous strain on the already fragile environmental balance, if the Great Nicobar Island becomes the new Singapore. Whatever development the project might bring (all promissory at this stage) far outweighs the wanton damage it will cause. To read the book is to realise what momentous projects are being planned behind our back, keeping us in the dark about the deadly fallouts.

The discussion that followed the launch—between Sekhsaria, environmental economist Lawrence Surendra, and the Frontline editor, Vaishna Roy—was illuminating. As were the informed questions asked by members of the audience. One question, raised by film historian and wildlife conservationist Theodore Baskaran, set me thinking. He wondered why Indira Point, the southernmost tip of the Great Nicobar Island, was once called Pygmalion Point. Pygmalion, of course, is the sculptor from Greek mythology who well in love with a statue he had carved—taking pity on him, the goddess of love, Aphrodite, brought it alive into a woman named Galatea. Astoundingly, a river called Galathea flows through the Great Nicobar Island. With these two connected names, researchers have yet another mystery to uncover on the endlessly fascinating island.

In the scheme of Greek myths, no gift from the gods can be an unambiguous blessing. Besides, mortals who think too much of themselves are inevitably punished—remember Narcissus who fell in love with himself, and pined away in longing, dying of thirst and starvation? Although Ovid does not explicate on the fate of Pygmalion, there are several red flags in the myth that hint at a sinister outcome. Falling in love with one’s creation is akin to falling in love with oneself and we all know where that leads. Worse, Pygmalion wants to get someone tailormade to his needs—a woman with a perfect face and body but without any will of her own.

American novelist Madeline Miller brings the myth to a plausible end in her explosive short story, “Galatea”, which vividly dramatises the rage of the woman who is denied agency and is always expected to grovel before her creator, who rapes her again and again. Told from Galatea’s point of view, the story, with its chilling conclusion, is a damning indictment of the male ego. An obstinate refusal to consider other points of view usually spells doom—the planners of the Great Nicobar project might want to keep this in mind.

The ability to choose—good over evil, others’ need over ours—distinguishes us as human. To fritter it away is to descend to sub-human levels. The morality of choice is the theme of Neel Mukherjee’s latest novel, Choice—a compassionate, intelligent analysis of what it means to be human. Tabish Khair reviews the novel with admiration and affection here. Shaoni Sarkar’s review of Bangladeshi author Mashiul Alam’s collection, The Meat Market: Ten Stories and a Novella, is also a good read.

Ever since the monsoons arrived in Bengaluru, the sky is alternating between being a grey, woolly rabbit and a massive expanse of indigo with floating white cloud-boats. I will leave you to soak in its changing moods and report back to you next time.

 Till then,

Anusua Mukherjee  

Picture caption: A leatherback turtle on the Galathea Bay nesting beach, Great Nicobar Island. The proposed Nicobar project makes a mockery of all schemes for the protection of the vulnerable leatherback turtle.