Review: മീരാസാധു | Meerasadhu

മീരാസാധു | Meerasadhu by K.R. Meera
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Tulasi is a middle aged woman, who in the present of the story, is residing in Madhura, in Vrindavan, as a Meera Sadhu, a female ascetic who is the bride of Lord Krishna. Living in squalor, and with no possessions or attachments, she is someone who nonetheless harbors an intense hatred in her heart; with unhealthy doses of resentment, self loathing, guilt and anger against this cruel world.

What happened to her? She was not like this in the past. Then, younger, an Academician, Tulasi was a gifted student of a National university, with a future as bright as the sun ahead of her. That is, until she met Madhav, her soon to be lover, husband, father of her children, and destroyer of lives.

Quite a piece of work, Madhav, as they got closer, had boasted of the dozen or so women with whom he had a relationship with in the past, all of whom were madly in love with him. For Madhav, like his namesake, had a dangerous and hypnotic charm, which made women addicted to the love and attention that he was able to bestow upon them.

Before long, Tulasi became lover number 28, somehow being ensnared in the same web of allure that had caught so many. Perhaps she was a victim of that infamous savior complex which afflicts many others, making her want to ‘save’ this poor soul from himself. He might’ve thrown away half a school bus full of partners in the past; but she was special. She could make him a better man.

So she spurned her family, and relations, burning her past and future, all in search of the nectar of affection which only he could give to her. And for a time, all was well. But much like those in her position, Tulasi began to see depreciating returns in the relationship which she had invested in.

Madhav, who by now, we know is a shallow, narcissistic, self serving, chauvinistic pig, had already gotten tired of her, and had while married, moved onto to lover #29, #30 and so forth. While Tulasi was left as a glorified housekeeper and baby making machine. That woman who took care of his menial needs, so that he can concentrate on the better parts of life.

Tulasi was turned into a shell of a woman. Her future & potential shattered, family spurned & lost, the very fountain of love which she gave it all up for turning into a dried up well. Only her two boys kept her going, hoping against hope for a better tomorrow.

That hope too was shattered, when her husband, having grown tired of playing house with her, was itching to jump to better prospects, urging her for separation. Tulasi was at a crossroads, with nothing but the abyss staring back at her.

Perhaps it were the phantoms of past failures, or the cumulative burden of repressed emotions, she broke, her psyche broke. And like the demoness Puthana of lore, she ‘euthanized’ her boys. And a final act of giving him the middle finger, made love with the unaware Madhav, right next door to the cooling corpses of her children. Dark stuff.

Having nothing more left, she renounced the shattered fragments of her old life, and came to Madhura. Running away from one Madhav, to another. As the ascetic bride of lord Krishna, she roamed the street, lived in squalor, let her body and spirit wither away into depravity, as a form of self imposed damnation.

She doesn’t want anything to change. Her life and suffering is her penance, for the wrongs committed on herself and her loved ones. Towards the end, even when offered a chance at redemption, a new beginning, she spurns it, kicking it to the curb, and embracing her insanity with a fit of maniacal laughter. To the streets she came, and to there she returned. Her last remaining ideal in life, to suffer for long, and die in suffering, to end up as food to the corpse ants.

That is where we leave her. Again, dark stuff.




This story, of the spurned woman, who is mistreated by her unscrupulous husband, is hardly new to the Soap Opera cultural Zeitgeist of Indian culture. What makes it engaging, and unique, is I might argue, the writer K.R. Meera’s beautifully composed prose; which is hard hitting, haunting, imaginative, nitty gritty and stabs right to the marrow of the issue.

Meera sadhu, in its brief narrative of fugue like realism, much of which is spent inside the mind on a singular character, explores the themes of (pseudo) feminism, gender cultural imbalance, chauvinism and toxic relationships. With an ever present undertow of ever pervading death. Much like ‘ആരാച്ചാര്‍ Aarachar’, her writer’s sprawling masterpiece dealing with many of the same themes.

In choosing to focus on the more mundane, decrepit and decaying aspects of a bigoted indian society, K.R. Meera joins the long line of Malayalam authors, who used these same poverty, suffering and inadequacies to community series social issues.

Even though the story is brief, and left with an open-ended conclusion, we don’t feel cheated, and feel the satisfaction of a complete narrative. Coming under a few hours worth of reading, this is a title which I would urge the readers to pick up, for its depth of themes and alluringly haunting prose.

I rate it a solid 4 out of 5


View all my reviews