A Guardian and a Thief

“It had happened before. 1770, when crops failed and smallpox plagued the enfeebled. 1876, when drought struck the Deccan Plateau and the British continued to export what grain remained. 1943. Those black-and-white newspaper photos, in which people appeared as sunken eyes and twig-thin limbs, facing a photographer who could do nothing for them, their fullness—their love, their humor, their annoyance, their preference—pared by the lens to reveal what remained, which was hunger.”

Though prior crises are listed, here, the overarching tone of the current crisis is that it will not get resolved like the others. However, for the people living through this crisis as seen through a photographer’s lens, the experience of famine, flooding, disease, and starvation is the same. “Hunger,” in this instance, means both literal hunger for food and figurative hunger for a better life, as reflected in “their love, their humor, their annoyance,” which remind the reader of the humanity within this suffering.

“All that arrived these days—and it had slowed to a worrisome trickle—were packages of protein bars, in numbers so small that the removal of even a few would be noticeable. The shelter residents had begun to split bars between themselves, trading flavors, a game that grew subdued after a resident who had stolen some bars for reselling was caught and evicted—not by the administrators but by his fellow residents.”

Part of the importance of food in the novel is the difference between protein bars, which are not satisfying and serve only to keep someone alive, and “real” food, like fish and cauliflower. In this passage, though, even the protein bars are becoming precious as the city starves, and people are starting to police themselves regarding food, hence the thief who is “evicted” by the other residents.

“He understood, from everything he had endured in his own life, that the worth of honesty, presented as noble before schoolchildren, was itself a lie. The honest souls who paused to deliberate on morals found, when they made their choice, that the treasure was gone. What was absolutely true and right, and what was absolutely false and wrong, and how could any sane person live without crossing the borders every day?”

Boomba’s perspective hinges on a specific term in this passage: “Treasure.” In his thoughts on morality, he advocates being dishonest to avoid missing out on “treasure,” but the “treasure” in this instance is food, water, and shelter, things that are necessary to live. Boomba crosses “the borders” of morality for survival, not simply for wealth or goods. Boomba’s attempt to rationalize his behavior reflects Survival Ethics in a Collapsing System.

“Hadn’t this been the primary plea of their immigration journey? Please understand. Please understand that our lives are fuller, more bursting, more replete, than is possible for your documents and questionnaires to contain. Please understand that we are moving for our child. Please understand that we love our child as you love yours. Wouldn’t you do anything for your child?”

Ma’s realization in this passage is that her story is not unique, while her focus on doing what is best for “[their] child” reflects The Challenges of Parenthood and Protectiveness. Ma comes to understand how police, bureaucrats, and politicians make decisions that affect many people in Ma’s situation. On one hand, Ma wants to communicate her position to convince others, but she also understands that these cogs in the broader system hear multiple stories like hers each day.

“She recalled the many stories of visa denials that she had heard. Encountering those stories, she had believed herself different, and differently fated. Now she saw that she had been a character in such a story all along. Now she felt the might of the kingdom against her, the might of the years of floods and droughts imposing their new rules, allowing the emperor to erect insurmountable walls, not only upon territory but also upon the futures of ordinary people the emperor would never know.”

Much like Ma’s attempt at eliciting empathy from those in power, this passage develops her understanding further, specifically through the idea of the “kingdom,” which represents all the elements of government and bureaucratic interference she has encountered. She sees how the political systems have changed to adapt to The Urgency of the Climate Crisis, but these adaptations have accepted that some people, like Ma, who have no influence over their decisions, will fall behind.

“Then came the seasons of the city’s burning, and the city’s submergence. Crop fields in the region turned black in the sun, or were flooded with salt water, invaded by unlikely pests, and went to ruin. Food for the parrots became hard to find. Mrs. Sen turned to her internet-savvy college students to learn about new underground markets that sold imported foods, albeit at high prices.”

Mrs. Sen’s story encapsulates the change brought on by The Urgency of the Climate Crisis in the mundane topic of pet food. Terms like “burning” and “submergence,” which indicate death and starvation for humanity, are reframed through the lens of black-market pet food sold at “high prices.” The effects of the climate crisis impact people in different degrees, and for Mrs. Sen, that impact is the increased cost of sustaining her two birds, adding a layer of absurdity to the novel.

“Ma worried that the children could give Mishti lice. There had been a lice outbreak at the shelter a few months ago. It was common. But her suppressed agitation as the children continued to play showed her, moment by moment, who she was. A mother with no generosity, mother to nobody but her own child, her love showing how mother was the opposite of motherly.”

Earlier in the novel, Ma referred to the residents of the shelter as her “children,” but she corrects that view here. She calls herself a “mother with no generosity,” but she means that she is infinitely generous only to Mishti. This dynamic of being a “guardian” to one’s family while rejecting or even harming other highlights The Challenges of Parenthood and Protectiveness in the novel.

“‘Manager madam,’ said Boomba in a low voice before Ma could speak again. ‘You are the thief, isn’t that so? You have been taking from the shelter supplies. I know. I saw. So what will you do? If you take me to the police, I will tell them about you. I will tell them, so what if this manager madam speaks nice English and looks so decent? She is a filthy thief also! You arrest her now! You put her in jail along with me! That’s what I will say.’ Boomba grinned.”

Boomba’s accusation reminds the reader how Boomba and Ma are both “guardians” and “thieves,” but the critical term in this passage is “Boomba grinned.” Unlike Ma, who does not relish her crimes, Boomba gets a rush out of hurting others. Realizing he has trapped Ma, he revels in his own malice, grinning at her as he extorts her. Boomba relies on the assertion that he and Ma are the same to protect himself from realizing his own malice.

“It was a line taken from movie dialogue, and Boomba wasn’t himself when he spoke it, but changing, and he smiled when he saw fear flash on the man’s face. Away from his parents and his brother, he could be anybody. He could be, temporarily, free of his wrongs, and free of his guilt. He did not have to cower in shame. He could be prideful, or harsh, or aloof, or a person others listened to.”

Boomba’s decision to “be anybody” is critically rooted in the fear he sees “flash on the man’s face.” Boomba is not just realizing that he has the potential to become anyone, he is deciding that he is going to hurt others for his own gain. Still, within this malicious transformation, Boomba still includes the possibility of being “a person others listened to,” which indicates that he does want to bring about a greater change beyond his own survival.

“He had seen, from his days of food delivery, what others possessed—homes that appeared as if from some other echelon of existence, with sofas and daybeds that looked so soft they must have been filled with birds’ feathers, furniture in the doorway simply for storing shoes, doorknobs with flowers carved in them. Didn’t Boomba’s family deserve the smallest part of such a life, which was to say, a home that allowed neither mosquito nor rainwater nor robber to assault them?”

Boomba’s story revolves around the idea of “deserving” things, which ultimately reflects a position on human rights. Boomba sees the other people struggling in the city and the wealth of those who are not struggling, and he resolves that people deserve basic necessities. No one should go without food, water, and shelter, which are the very things he wants to steal for his family.

“Dadu knew, of course, that in this very crowd were likely the mothers of children who really did have diabetes, who truly needed to eat. But the needs of others were always smaller than the needs of one’s own child. Perhaps it was the strange distortion of the crisis, or perhaps it was simply human nature, that the pain of others was never as acute or compelling as one’s own pain.”

Just as Ma comes to realize how she values herself and her family over others, Dadu lies about Mishti to secure more food for his family. He sympathizes with the pain of other parents and grandparents, but he does not modify his behavior because “the pain of others” is not as “acute or compelling.” Dadu’s perspective plays into the novel’s examination of The Challenges of Parenthood and Protectiveness, reflecting how guardian figures like Dadu and Ma can be selfless in caring for their own family members while behaving selfishly towards others.

“He began to cry, and Dadu heard Mishti crying, all the instances of sorrow consolidated in the haze of months—Mishti bullied off a slide by a bigger child, Mishti refusing to eat green beans, Mishti upset about wearing a sweater, Mishti exhausted and ready to sleep, unable to simply close her eyes and be still. Dadu heard Mishti crying, child of his child, pulse of his heart, and stomped down the part of himself that wanted to turn around and return the orange.”

As with the ration shop, Dadu chooses to do something immoral, stealing from a child, to feed his own grandchild. The imagery of “stomping down” the part of himself that rebels against this immorality cements the idea that Dadu is forcibly ignoring his own nature for survival. Dadu nevertheless instinctually feels he should do the right thing, forcing him to confront Survival Ethics in a Collapsing System.

“It was her duty, as a guardian, to put into action the beautiful ideal of hope. Ma thought harshly: This was what it looked like. Hope for the future was no shy bloom but a blood-maddened creature, fanged and toothed, with its own knowledge of history’s hostilities and the cages of the present. Hope wasn’t soft or tender. It was mean. It snarled. It fought. It deceived. On this day, hope lived in the delivery of gold to a man who might be a scammer, and, perhaps, hope lived also in opening the doors to a thief.”

As the tension of the novel increases, Ma finds herself stuck between the photocopier and Boomba, with each trying to take advantage of her. The “snarling,” “fighting” struggle to survive hinges on her ability to minimize the harm Boomba can cause while trying to escape as smoothly as possible. Ma, too, can snarl and fight, but she knows she needs to choose her battles in this delicate position.

“Nobody in this society had very much sympathy for solo men. Solo men like him were suspect entities. But a man accompanying a child—such a man was a different species. In the eyes of others, such a man was the most kingly of beings, a guardian.”

Boomba’s analysis of how others view men in these circumstances allows some insight into the society of the novel and adds a new dimension to The Challenges of Parenthood and Protectiveness. Alone, Boomba is a living threat who might steal, attack, or even kill to survive. With a child, however, other people will assume that he is focused on protecting his child, rather than attacking others. The reality, of course, is that in actuality plenty of “guardians” like Dadu and Ma also commit crimes.

“Not so long ago, the city had held forests like this, where herds of monkeys rampaged, galloping like horses over rooftops and swinging from trees, devouring young mango until a tree’s dozens were fully bitten and chewed, then throwing the fruit imperiously to ground. Neither Mishti nor Boomba had seen that iteration of the city, but they each, in their own way, liked a garden that recalled such a forest, a garden whose growth compelled them to become smaller and humbler, whose shades of green focused their eyes and called to their hands, and every now and then rewarded them with the folding of the shy fern, the mimosa pudica.”

Mishti and Boomba’s shared nostalgia for a Kolkata they never saw reminds the reader of the “near future” setting of the novel, in which The Urgency of the Climate Crisis has already progressed past the point of retrieving this verdant scene. For the wealthy, though, that lush setting has never changed, showing how only impoverished people, like Boomba and Mishti, face the true impacts of the crisis.

“Its oceans, made of lapis lazuli, shimmered. Its countries glittered with gemstones: diamonds and emeralds and rubies and sapphires. Seams of silver marked the latitudes and longitudes. It was the most beautiful globe Boomba had seen, and it returned him right away to his boyhood self, which was, though long left behind, not that far away. He wanted that globe. He shoved it into the plastic bag in his pocket, wrapping the plastic around it several times to dull its gleam, then tied the bag to his belt loop.”

Boomba’s theft of the globe is full of imagery and symbolism, including the reference back to Boomba’s childhood dream of exploring. Instead, he is now stealing the “world” from a billionaire, who preserved the “shimmer” and “glitter” of the world only on a small hexagon of earth. Boomba “dulls its gleam” with plastic, connecting The Urgency of the Climate Crisis back to unsustainable, if convenient, practices.

“But Ma’s faculties had surrendered their duties of facing the world and instead turned inward, observing the wreckage of her own self. It was her fault. She had left the window open, enabling Boomba’s first intrusion, and she had failed to take Dadu’s injury seriously. What if she had insisted on taking him to a hospital? But this thought, allowed to rise, revealed itself to be a bandit, robbing her of everything she had left.”

Though much of the novel deals with choosing immoral acts to survive, this passage highlights how such desperation robs individuals of the ability to reflect. Ma cannot think about her mistakes or her desperation, since the mere thought of her actions forces her to confront herself. In such a confrontation, her very identity comes into question, which would only distract her from what she needs to do.

“Ma was taken aback. Then angry. Who was this strange man to tell her that her child had been crying for something to eat? How dare he? But as the ambulance driver returned, unthanked, the soles of his shoes resisting the melting tar of the street, to his vehicle parked up the lane, Ma wondered: Had Mishti been crying for something to eat? Had Ma been so submerged in her grief that she had failed to notice Mishti’s hunger?”

Ma’s initial reaction relies on social norms, in which the ambulance driver’s comment would insult Ma’s parenting ability. However, she realizes that social norms are breaking down, she has lost her father, and people rarely help others. Combined, Ma sees how she is struggling under the weight of her circumstances, and her offense turns to gratitude.

“She knew that Dadu had hoped, against all logic, that Mishti would return, someday, and live in this house, in the grand new city of the future […] Dadu, she knew, could not bear the thought of the city surrendering to the river and the bay, his beloved house losing its bones to storms and intruders, and for what? For Mishti to live, riven from her past, in America, a country that was half dreamworld, half hell?”

While Ma lives in the present, in which Kolkata is gradually being “surrendered,” Dadu comes from the Kolkata of the past, in which the city was a hopeful, joyous place. Mishti, they know, will come to see a still more damaged Kolkata, if she ever comes back from America. Unlike the rest of the novel, this passage shows Ma questioning the value of America, calling it “half-hell,” though Dadu would undoubtedly see anywhere that is not Kolkata as “half-hell.”

“These Americans urged their representatives to remember that all immigrants underwent thorough background checks; that applicants supplied stacks of documents to prove who they were and what their life had been; that the consulates examined bank statements, tax returns, pay stubs, employment history, education history, family history, property ownership; that they were fingerprinted, and their eyes scanned; that nobody who had even dreamed of violent behavior was issued a visa. But it was a time of anger and outcry, not of reason, nor compassion.”

This passage reflects back to Ma’s thought about people amounting to more than the documentation they possess, but it uses the reverse argument, saying that people granted visas, having provided the necessary documentation, are safe. Neither argument, though, makes an impact on unfeeling bureaucracy nor on outraged ignorance. Combined, these positions establish the problem of Survival Ethics in a Collapsing System on a national as well as individual level, reinforcing how a refusal to act in a compassionate, unified manner turns people against one another.

“Boomba wondered what had happened to the nasty old man. He hoped, passively, that the old man was in hospital with malaria. That was what he deserved. He wondered, too, if the old man was dead. Hesitatingly, he touched the spot on his back where he had been struck. The bruise was painful. His knee was still a lump of agony.”

The conflict between Boomba and Dadu, now resolved with Dadu’s death, shows how two people, both thinking they are in the right, can hurt each other and come away injured without any gain. Dadu is dead because he tried to rob another family, and Boomba is injured because he is trying to extort Dadu’s family, but both men see themselves as correct because of their desperation.

“Boomba emerged from his hiding spot. He was alone in the house. He was alone in his house. He was alone in the house in which his family would be safe, and dry, and together, the house in which Robi would be granted health, and schooling, and all the opportunities of the city.”

Now that Boomba has achieved his goal, his first thought is of his ownership of the house, and his second is about his family. The difference between Boomba and Ma is that Ma always tried to help Mishti first and herself second, whereas Boomba helps himself first, then his family. Nonetheless, Boomba then fantasizes about Robi’s life, showing that he is still occupying the role of “guardian” for his family, invoking The Challenges of Parenthood and Protectiveness.

“He looked, disbelieving, at his family, more youthful than he had feared they would be. The journey to the city had invigorated them. So what if his father’s stubble was white? So what if his mother’s hand, when she touched his cheek, was blistered and peeling? Robi hid behind his mother, complaining that his nose was stuffy, and shrank when Boomba attempted to embrace him.”

The “youthful” appearance Boomba detects is hope manifested within his family. After many trials, they are finally arriving somewhere they think will be safe and good. Boomba’s parents’ age makes no difference because they can finally relax, and Robi’s discomfort is minimal compared to his illness in the village. For a brief moment, the family is reunited and happy.