Summary
Chapter 9
Uma relishes the time when Mama and Papa are out and she is alone. Right now she looks through her special Christmas card collection, all of them from and made by Mrs. O’Henry, the Baptist missionary’s wife. After that, she wanders through the dark house and decides to call Mrs. O’Henry, something she cannot do when her parents are around. The woman is not in, so she goes out to the veranda. She sees the lights of her parents’ car, and heads to her room and pretends to be asleep.
Aruna took her time in deciding whom to marry, but when she did she chose the richest and the most handsome contender. Even Mama and Papa were a little concerned that he was too much, but it was what Aruna wanted. Her wedding was lavish, but Uma had one of her fits the night before at the cocktail party and Dr. Dutt had to come help; thankfully few others noticed. Aruna was worried she would do it again at the wedding and lashed out at Uma, and Uma cried that she should be locked up, but Mama told them both to be quiet. Uma was fine at the wedding, which was very chic.
Aruna’s life was as wonderful as she had planned, with a house facing the beach. Arvind, her husband, worked in Bombay. She had two children, Aisha and Dinesh, though she did not visit often so they seemed like strangers to Uma.
Uma wondered at all the strange things Aruna picked up in Bombay, such as wearing makeup and cutting her hair, and she and her mother giggled together that Aruna might make them cut their hair.
Aisha was adorable but a terror, and Dinesh, who seemed better behaved, actually caused a few more problems. Once he shot a pigeon with an air gun and enjoyed watching it struggle to die, and then he started playing with the neighbor’s servant’s boy, Panna. Papa found this offensive, since his children were not allowed to play with the servants’ children, but Dinesh continued to play with him, out of sight, when he visited.
There was once a chance Uma could visit Aruna in Bombay, as her eye doctor told her she should see a specialist there, but Papa said no because it was a waste of money.
Aruna and her mother-in-law and other relatives came once to bathe in the holy river. It was a “fraught” (108) visit, since Aruna urged Mama and Uma to clean up their old house and to be good hostesses. All Aruna could do was critique everyone. Even Papa was less authoritarian than normal and tried to socialize instead of scowl to meet her approval. The family tolerated this behavior from Aruna only because they saw her direct it toward her new family as well, even Arvind. Uma felt pity for her sister, wondering if this was “the realm of ease and comfort for which Aruna had always pined and that some might say she had attained?” (109).
The best part of that visit was the river, and everyone was extremely excited to go. When they got onto the boat Uma jumped off the boat right away as if she had been preparing for this her whole life. She sank immediately into the dark river, and everyone started screaming and someone reached in and pulled her out, gasping for breath. Aruna looked at her with distress, willing her not to have a fit, and Uma looked back at her to say she was not. When she went into the water, though, she had felt not fear or danger but “a kind of exultation” (111) that she had always wanted.
Chapter 10
Mrs. O’Henry is giving a coffee party and invites Uma. Her parents do not understand why she is invited or what the point of this party is, and she replies by complaining that she never gets to go anywhere. Her parents are convinced Mrs. O’Henry wants something from her, and mention the suspicious Christmas cards. Uma flounces away in annoyance.
Uma attends the party and sits with the other local young ladies, eating dry cookies and sandwiches. The other ladies seem less promising than Uma, and she tries to be a good guest. Mrs. O’Henry talks about the mountains and how all the people from the mission collect there in the summer and have a big fair. She says she was in charge of the Christmas cards and made a lot of money for the church. The ladies want to see the cards and Mrs. O’Henry shows them her work station where she makes them all. After the party the ladies all laugh about it, but Uma happily walks away with an envelope of Mrs. O’Henry’s “failures” (117). On the way out, Mrs. O’Henry asks about Arun and tells Uma her sister lives in Massachusetts.
The one word associated with Arun’s childhood was “education,” as Papa insisted on the best and the most and the highest education for his son. Arun spent long hours at school, trudging there on his spindly legs. He had many tutors and spent hours a day working. Papa would then tell him to go outside and play cricket, but all Arun wanted to do was read comic books. The testing times were intense, and Papa would not let Arun have a holiday after the exams because he had to get ready to go abroad for higher education. Papa did not listen to Mama’s protestations, because how would she know the value of a foreign degree? Uma wondered if Papa was making Arun fulfill some dream of his own, but how could anyone ever tell if Papa had unfulfilled dreams?
Arun was accepted in school abroad. He did not seem to care when he read the letter, and Uma reflected on how “All the years of scholarly toil had worn down any distinguishing features Arun's face might once have had” (121). There was nothing else—no smile, no frown. She wished she could “stir up that viscous greyness” (122).
The day Arun departed, he stared at Uma and marveled at how old she looked.
Papa retired after Arun left and life was spent more and more on the veranda. Arun wrote, but his letters were insubstantial.
Chapter 11
Papa is preparing to dictate a letter to Uma for Arun. He begins, saying Mrs. O’Henry has suggested he stay the summer with Mrs. Patton, her sister, and her family. They will give him a room. Mama wonders what kind of people the Pattons are.
Uma stands up and says her eyes hurt and she is done. Papa scoffs but Mama says her eyes do bother her and she should see a specialist. Papa says everyone’s eyes weaken as they get older.
One day, Papa grumbled to Uma that the convent nuns were on the phone for her. Thrilled, she answered, and Mother Agnes said Mrs. O’Henry was going to put up a stall at the Christmas bazaar and wanted to know if she could help run it. Though Mama and Papa disapproved, Uma readily agreed and had a wonderful day selling the Christmas cards.
Mama did not come to the bazaar. She only went to social events with Papa, and not to her rummy game anymore since Papa was always home since retiring. Sometimes she would send Uma over to Mrs. Joshi with a message.
Mrs. Joshi was a kindly woman. Her husband loved her, even though his mother was terrible. After the mother-in-law died, Mrs. Joshi ruled the house with “great aplomb” (130) and benevolence. Her children played freely and grew up well. Only one daughter, Moyna, was odd in that she wanted a career, and went to Delhi to pursue one. Often while growing up, Uma would ask Mrs. Joshi if she would adopt her, and Mrs. Joshi would laugh and agree, but then send her gently along her way.
Uma heard of the “career” and secretly wondered about one for herself, but had no idea what that would even be. Her preferred escape, as she envisioned it, was a huge banyan tree above a river. She would imagine this peaceful scene, but sometimes was awakened from it by Mira-masi’s claim that she was the Lord’s child. This frightened her and she would thrash about until Mama asked what was wrong.
Chapter 12
Uma is starting to wonder if Papa’s retirement consists of Mama and Papa looking for things to make her do. One day she refuses to do what they ask, and goes into her room and shuts the door, which she knows makes them suspicious. She pulls out the book of poetry she got from the Christmas bazaar and reads a few verses.
Mama pounds on the door and asks what she is doing and finally Uma rips it open and shows her the poetry. Mama asks why she is reading if her eyes hurt, and tells her to make Papa his coffee and biscuits. Uma serves them, but, thinking of her poems, tells Papa with flashing eyes that there are things she knows and they don’t. He is too startled to reply.
In her later years, Mira-masi looked more gaunt and ill, and mostly ignored Uma. Uma asked if she ever found her Lord, referring to the brass idol, and Mira-masi sighed heavily. She began praying in tones of anguish for its return.
Uma no longer had any fits past her time in the river, as if the plunge itself had “caused the fits and hysterics to be carried off by the currents, leaving her limp and drained” (138).
On a visit, Lila Aunty told them Mira-masi had “found” the idol on a shelf in a shop in Benares that sold brassware, that she threw herself at it sobbing. The shopkeeper, a superstitious man, parted with it.
It was rumored that Mira-masi went to the Himalayas to worship her Lord. Uma wished she could go, but knew she would never be allowed. She did not see Mira-masi again.
One day Dr. Dutt visited the family and Uma was sent to make lemonade. When she returned she heard Dr. Dutt telling her parents about the nurses’ dormitory at the Medical Institute. It turned out she wanted Uma to come and help them, as she was a young woman with no employment but with skills running a household. Uma was shy about it at first but warmed to the idea. Unfortunately, Mama proclaimed she did not need to work, and that her parents provided for her. They refused to change their minds, and Mama sent Uma away and told Dr. Dutt she was ill and needed Uma to take care of her.
The next time her parents went to the club Uma called Dr. Dutt, who wearily told her that her parents would not agree, and that her mother was ill and needed her. Uma proclaimed hotly that her mother was not ill, and if Dr. Dutt were to call her and tell her to come in for tests, she wouldn’t. Dr. Dutt said to wait it out but Uma was nearly hysterical, so Dr. Dutt agreed to call her mother. She did, but Mama never told Uma what they said and nothing ever came of it.
Chapter 13
The family goes out onto the veranda in the sweltering heat after dinner. There is a power outage, and Papa orders Uma to tell the mali to go report it. Uma seeks him out where he lives in a little shack by the driveway. When he first came to them he was an interesting figure who impressed the children by climbing the tamarind tree and telling them stories, but now he is old.
Uma wakes him, shouting for him not to sleep too much because there might be murderers around, and tells him to go down to the sub-station and ask when the power will be back. He obeys with alacrity. As she is about to go in, she hears someone else. The person announces there is a telegram, and brings it to Mama and Papa. This is not normal, and they open it with apprehension. The message announces that Anamika is dead.
The details come later. Anamika had risen, filled a can with kerosene oil, wore a nylon sari, poured the kerosene over herself, and lit herself on fire. Her mother-in-law woke and heard a noise, went to investigate, and found her charred and dying. This is what she told the police and Anamika’s family. Some of the neighbors say, though, that she and her son had done it themselves. Anamika’s family says it was fate, that God willed it. Uma says nothing.
Bakul Uncle and Lila Aunty come, much diminished. Uma sees her cousin’s ashes and cannot believe it is really her. She feels like ashes herself right now. She asks if they burned the acceptance letter from Oxford. Mama hushes her, aghast at her impropriety. Uma stubbornly says she wanted to know.
The next day they all go to the river’s edge. They haggle over the price for the boat for a long time; Uma finds it strange and wishes they would just pay for once. The family that is in attendance climb into the boat—not Arun, in America, or Aruna, on a shopping trip, or Ramu, a hermit—and the boatman pushes away from the bank. A priest in an orange robe calls out from the shore, yelling angrily that they cannot perform the final ceremony without him. They procure him, and Uma takes a moment to get over “the disturbance caused by this interruption of private grief” (154).
The water is heavy and swollen, and it seems a “huge mass of grief holding them up on its heaving surface” (154). A lap-wing’s noises seem to be intoning the refrain, “did-you-do-it, did-you-do-it?” The family lowers the jar in the river. It bobs, then sinks. The priest stops his recitations and says it is done.
Mama clasps Uma’s hand tightly, and Uma sees there are tears in her eyes. She whispers “Mama” and clasps her hand back. They are happy to have each other for consolation. She tells Mama she asked cook to make puri-alu for breakfast. Mama seems comforted by this.
The boat heads back to shore near where all the worshippers gather for their ablutions and prayers. Uma dips her jar in the river and lifts it over her head, pouring the water out.
Analysis
In these final chapters of Uma’s story, we learn about the tragic fate of Anamika, the state of Aruna’s marriage, and Uma’s further attempts to establish some sort of independent life for herself—which usually fail.
Anamika’s fate is tragic, as she is burnt alive in what is very clearly murder. Her family claims it is suicide, but the history of abuse she suffered as well as a few truth-telling neighbors reveal that Anamika’s husband and mother-in-law most likely did this. It was probably in response to her inability to have children, one of the duties of married Indian women, and reflects how little women are regarded as human beings in the patriarchal Indian society of the novel.
Aruna’s marriage avoids the same sort of abuse, and she seems to be very lucky with her husband, her children, and her glamorous life in Bombay. Yet her visits to the family reveal that she is not as happy as might be expected. In one notable visit, she “spent the entire visit hissing under her breath” (108) to her family about their house, their behavior, etc. She also “scolded [her husband] continuously” (109) and it “made for a very uncomfortable household” (109). Uma feels pity for her sister, wondering “was this the realm of ease and comfort for which Aruna had always pined and that some might say she had attained? Certainly it brought her no pleasure: there was always a crease of discontent between her eyebrows and an agitation that made her eyelids flutter” (109). Aruna is still trapped by her gender in a prescribed role, and her chafing at it manifests itself in a prickly restlessness.
Uma is not married, obviously, but as a woman, her role is still within the household. Mama and Papa “[need] her every minute” (98) and stymy her attempts to do anything for herself. When there is an opportunity for her to go to Bombay, Papa squashes it and says it is a waste of money. The fact that it is for Uma to seek specialized medical treatment for her bad eyes does not matter; she is not worth spending the money on or relinquishing from household duties. The eyes are also symbolic, as Volna Ludmila notes: “it is emblematic that [Uma] is, for one thing, suffering from an eye disease, and, for another, prevented to go and see an ophthalmologist. For the eyes are a primary means of getting to know, reading, studying, getting out of the bonds of ignorance (we also recall that she was prevented from continuing her school education).”
She does get to visit Mrs. O’Henry and serve at the Christmas bazaar, which makes her very happy and “was a day to remember” (128), but she is not allowed to work for Dr. Dutt. Having a job outside the house is far beyond what Mama and Papa can countenance for Uma, and through lies and a war of patient attrition against Dr. Dutt, they succeed in the doctor giving up on enlisting Uma.
One of the only places Uma feels a sense of weightless bliss is in the water. Desai emphasizes water’s symbolic connotations of cleansing, purification, and oblivion in Uma’s two main encounters with water. In the first instance, Uma was a child and, on Mira-masi’s visit, rushed headlong into the river without knowing how to swim and had to be rescued. And in the second, on Aruna and her family’s visit, when she is an adult, she “simply sprang off the prow and plunged in without hesitation, as if this were what she had been preparing to do all her life” (110). She has to be rescued again, but she is privately irritated by this, for “It was not fear she felt, or danger. Or, rather, these were only what edged something much darker, wilder, more thrilling, a kind of exultation—it was exactly what she had always wanted, she realised. Then they had saved her. The saving was what made her shudder and cry” (111). In the water Uma feels free, and while there is a clear allusion to suicide, for Uma there is nothing tragic about this—except being forced back into her oppressive life.
Uma’s only other “release,” if it can even be called that, is in small, ineffectual bursts of rebellion, such as closing her door and reading poetry, then using the emotions stirred up by the poems to serve Papa his coffee and biscuits with a side of insouciant rage. Adriana Elena Stoican explains that “Uma’s contact with Western values through poetry provides an imaginary release from the oppressive family universe. Nevertheless, Uma’s attraction to ideals of pleasure, passion, and individual fulfilment do not trigger her adoption of these principles. In this particular example, Uma’s inability to disobey the instruction of serving coffee entails her acceptance of her subordination.”
At the end of Uma’s section, she is in engulfed in grief for her cousin, another woman destroyed by her society. Though she does find solace in her mother, which is a rather touching scene amid the despair, there is little to suggest that Uma’s life is going to change or improve.
