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The Middle Finger
What are the ethical boundaries of friendship and intimacy between a student and a teacher?
Megha, a young writing lecturer in New Jersey struggles to finish her thesis and find full-time employment even as she begins to find underground fame as a poet. Restless and disenchanted, she lets her professor and friends persuade her to take up a position at a new university in Delhi. Moving continents, resettling in the city she knew as a teenager, she discovers that the university is an island of wealth and privilege, and that her mandate is to teach and train some of the key members of India’s ruling class. But her life as a teacher is disrupted as she makes a new friend who unsettles her and asks for unexpected support.
In sharp and lyrical prose, The Middle Finger tells the story of a poet grappling with questions about mentorship and belonging, disrupting boundaries set by society and the hierarchies hidden in the world of education.
Megha, a young writing lecturer in New Jersey struggles to finish her thesis and find full-time employment even as she begins to find underground fame as a poet. Restless and disenchanted, she lets her professor and friends persuade her to take up a position at a new university in Delhi. Moving continents, resettling in the city she knew as a teenager, she discovers that the university is an island of wealth and privilege, and that her mandate is to teach and train some of the key members of India’s ruling class. But her life as a teacher is disrupted as she makes a new friend who unsettles her and asks for unexpected support.
In sharp and lyrical prose, The Middle Finger tells the story of a poet grappling with questions about mentorship and belonging, disrupting boundaries set by society and the hierarchies hidden in the world of education.
- GenresIndian Literature
240 pages, Hardcover
First published January 25, 2022
8 people are currently reading
101 people want to read
About the author
Saikat Majumdar
18 books30 followersSaikat Majumdar is the author of four novels, two books of nonfiction, and the co-editor of a volume of essays. His most recent book is The Middle Finger, a campus novel that examines the intricacy of the teacher-student relation through the lens of ancient myths. Previous novels include The Scent of God (2019), a story of romantic love between two boys in a Hindu monastic boarding school, and The Firebird (2015), which narrates a young boy’s destructive relation with the art form of theatre through his mother’s life as an actress. The Scent of God was one of Times of India’s Most Talked About Books of 2019 and a finalist for the inaugural Mathrubhumi Book of the Year Award, and The Firebird was finalist at the Bangalore Literature Festival Fiction Prize and the Mumbai Film Festival Word-to-Screen Market. The Middle Finger was longlisted at the Atta Galata-Bangalore Literature Festival Book Prize 2022. Saikat's other works include a work of general nonfiction, College: Pathways of Possibility (2018), of literary criticism, Prose of the World (2013), and a co-edited collection of essays, The Critic as Amateur (2019).
Saikat is Professor of English & Creative Writing at Ashoka University. He has taught previously at Stanford University, was a Newhouse Fellow at Wellesley College, and a Fellow at the Stellenbosch Institute of Advanced Study. He writes regularly on higher education and literature in different venues, including the Hindu, Hindustan Times, Los Angeles Review of Books, and the Times Higher Education.
Saikat is Professor of English & Creative Writing at Ashoka University. He has taught previously at Stanford University, was a Newhouse Fellow at Wellesley College, and a Fellow at the Stellenbosch Institute of Advanced Study. He writes regularly on higher education and literature in different venues, including the Hindu, Hindustan Times, Los Angeles Review of Books, and the Times Higher Education.
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
September 27, 2022
"Majumdar seemingly aims for a sparse unaffected style but the careful construction of naturality and attempts at subtle lyricism backfire resulting in an uninspired carelessness. The Middle Finger showcases a language of banal observations and strange formulations, full of awkward and unsteady turns of phrase that highlight an unquestioned fetishistic gaze. It is especially foregrounded in scenes where Megha is thinking of her poetry—the poems themselves as well as commentary around them are characterized by messy similes, clichés wriggling like worms. Truncated sentences, jerky dialogue, ineffectual images—it is an eccentric, hackneyed minimalism that fails to land."
My review is out on Inklette: https://inklettemagazine.com/2022/06/...
My review is out on Inklette: https://inklettemagazine.com/2022/06/...
April 1, 2022
Unchartered territories conflicted emotions, difficult choices and the gruesome reality of modern society- Majumdar's 'The Middle Finger' is a social commentary that finds its basis in the multifaceted nature of literature, mainly poetry.
Megha, a poet who gets slightly offended each time someone recites her poetry, lands in Delhi after years of privilege and luxurious life in the US. As she settles down, she meets Poonam, and a different kind of friendship blossoms, one that borders around desire. Desire- looked upon harshly within a teacher-student relationship and yet, it blossoms.
Megha, an upper-class lecturer in India, unwilling to accept her position, heritage, and talent, and Poonam, a Christian girl from Ranchi with her strong desire to learn from the pillars of this tale. Their character arcs are distinct, each with a solid voice that comes mainly from their position in society and their experiences.
'The Middle Finger' is a bold attempt at describing the relationship between a teacher and a student, the fine lines that run through our souls, and the desire to have some semblance in the constant degradation society puts us through.
Megha, a poet who gets slightly offended each time someone recites her poetry, lands in Delhi after years of privilege and luxurious life in the US. As she settles down, she meets Poonam, and a different kind of friendship blossoms, one that borders around desire. Desire- looked upon harshly within a teacher-student relationship and yet, it blossoms.
Megha, an upper-class lecturer in India, unwilling to accept her position, heritage, and talent, and Poonam, a Christian girl from Ranchi with her strong desire to learn from the pillars of this tale. Their character arcs are distinct, each with a solid voice that comes mainly from their position in society and their experiences.
'The Middle Finger' is a bold attempt at describing the relationship between a teacher and a student, the fine lines that run through our souls, and the desire to have some semblance in the constant degradation society puts us through.
October 31, 2022
Saikat captures a certain India - in Princeton, at an elite university in Haryana, in the bylanes of Kolkata — and a certain kind of Indian — cosmopolitan, comfortable in its milieu even as it rails against the oppressive, raw reality surrounding it that cannot be ignored. I found both characters and narrative a trifle stilted however, sharply observed anecdotes strung together rather than a rich tapestry of interwoven lives.
February 19, 2022
The city of joy!
Ironic isn’t it? You may not even notice me if I pass by. We are always easy to miss. How do you miss someone who barely looks or feels like a complete person? We get lost in the sea among the sea of other faces that look the same living in skyscraper slums. Rammed together like chickens waiting for slaughter, staring out of our death-shaped windows into endless oblivion called life.
For a long time, I wanted to be like you all. Educated and having the power to do magic using words. But I couldn’t do much and I do not want to talk about that. So we did what everyone did. We, Swapna, my sister-in-law and I, moved from the City of Joy to the capital city leaving behind our maps of no country in search of a better life.
It is here that I see her! Megha! How different our lives had been? How privileged she is and how unfortunate that I met her?
Looking like a wicked child, caught in an adult’s life, she writes poems. I wanted to be like her. I wanted to be her sometimes. Smart, Sophisticated and Beautiful. Sometimes I wanted a little more than that. I wanted her books! Her words! Sometimes her! I wanted to be able to unleash all that’s in my heart, all the love I had for the Lord via words. I wanted to learn as other students learnt from her at the university.
I wanted to learn the art of stringing words like an archer who strings an arrow to his bow from her!
What chance did I have? An artless, unsophisticated forest dweller against the sneaky urban crook!
I get something else. To watch her and to learn about her via her books, Her words. What better way to understand someone other than the books they read?
One day, I shot my arrows in front of a crowd. Sharp arrows, hitting the target right where it should be and along with it, a thank you! A thank you to my teacher, my only teacher, Megha. As many questions play in her head, I offer my silence and leave back to the city of joy.
For I am Eklavya. I learn from the teacher without learning from her. I shoot arrows without my thumb. I am Eklavya, the one who can shoot with this Forefinger and The Middle Finger!
Back in the skyscraper slums, I dwell. Shooting my arrows in the dark.
The Middle Finger by Saikat Majumdar is a book with rich themes addressing various issues such as classroom politics, racism and the delicate state of what education is all about today. Raising some important questions on privilege, the book is as subtle as it gets, confusing you, making you anticipate through page after page. So subtle that when the book ends, you are blown away by the sheer genius of it all.
Ironic isn’t it? You may not even notice me if I pass by. We are always easy to miss. How do you miss someone who barely looks or feels like a complete person? We get lost in the sea among the sea of other faces that look the same living in skyscraper slums. Rammed together like chickens waiting for slaughter, staring out of our death-shaped windows into endless oblivion called life.
For a long time, I wanted to be like you all. Educated and having the power to do magic using words. But I couldn’t do much and I do not want to talk about that. So we did what everyone did. We, Swapna, my sister-in-law and I, moved from the City of Joy to the capital city leaving behind our maps of no country in search of a better life.
It is here that I see her! Megha! How different our lives had been? How privileged she is and how unfortunate that I met her?
Looking like a wicked child, caught in an adult’s life, she writes poems. I wanted to be like her. I wanted to be her sometimes. Smart, Sophisticated and Beautiful. Sometimes I wanted a little more than that. I wanted her books! Her words! Sometimes her! I wanted to be able to unleash all that’s in my heart, all the love I had for the Lord via words. I wanted to learn as other students learnt from her at the university.
I wanted to learn the art of stringing words like an archer who strings an arrow to his bow from her!
What chance did I have? An artless, unsophisticated forest dweller against the sneaky urban crook!
I get something else. To watch her and to learn about her via her books, Her words. What better way to understand someone other than the books they read?
One day, I shot my arrows in front of a crowd. Sharp arrows, hitting the target right where it should be and along with it, a thank you! A thank you to my teacher, my only teacher, Megha. As many questions play in her head, I offer my silence and leave back to the city of joy.
For I am Eklavya. I learn from the teacher without learning from her. I shoot arrows without my thumb. I am Eklavya, the one who can shoot with this Forefinger and The Middle Finger!
Back in the skyscraper slums, I dwell. Shooting my arrows in the dark.
The Middle Finger by Saikat Majumdar is a book with rich themes addressing various issues such as classroom politics, racism and the delicate state of what education is all about today. Raising some important questions on privilege, the book is as subtle as it gets, confusing you, making you anticipate through page after page. So subtle that when the book ends, you are blown away by the sheer genius of it all.
October 30, 2022
When you begin a book that sneaks up on you and recasts the reader (me) in Megha’s form; she, the protagonist of this delectably lyrical novel, you are hooked.
‘Poetry called her in a different language.’
She teaches poetry writing at Rutgers in America, after having discarded her PhD thesis, as she constantly reminds the reader. Staving off uncertainties and doubts by getting drawn into others’ lives and narratives, she harbours a deep sadness stemming from an unruly and fickle childhood, raised by a mother who is the exact opposite of all that Megha is drawn to.
Although she takes the leap of following the life of her poems, - “they came from anger and hissed like droplets on hot metal. Little slippery stories that crawled in verse, speaking in tongues. They wanted to slap the world. They struck people and bruised them,” she often feels duplicitous.
“Too loud, too dramatic, too psychedelic, what was she doing writing them? Bitterness spiked in Megha, a dark cloud. The bitterness of her poems splayed out in public, amidst a beer-battered crowds, the mix of shame and joy that drove her into the restroom, listening to the sound of violence outside.”
Yet her poems are performed, “In smoky bars, in poor quality YouTube videos, watched them performed on Instagram to the recording of guitarists outside New York City subway stations….”
Prose and poetry drip effortlessly from Majumdar’s pen.
Megha eventually accepts a job at Harappa University in Haryana (India) in a moment of surety, persuaded by friends Lasya and Rory. She is a good teacher, even a popular one. Of the students, Majumdar writes, “They trusted her They offered themselves. Their lives came out, skinned and minced, sometimes rhyming, sometimes groping for rhyme.”
The book has some memorable characters like Rory, who has mastered dance at Kalakshetra and chooses to interpret Megha’s poetry via movement. He is married to the lovely Lasya Ramachandran. Rory says, as he pops a diet coke, “The paradox of Bharatnatyam is that it strains your body and soothes your mind at the same time.”
I loved this. I know it. I get it.
I was mesmerized by Rory’s performance; we watch the dancer bathe her words in silence and song, and its sonority fires up the stage.
“There was thunder on the stage. Rory was demonic and then a shy teenage girl. “
‘Rory has written poetry with his whole body.’
There are others like Vivek, an old classmate of Megha, who comes and goes at will from the pages, who doesn’t interest me as much as I begin to not like him. Then there’s Kevin and Alberto, two good people, owners of a cottage on the Hudson; Jishnu Maurya, a young and bright boy who adores Megha’s poetry and has seen it being performed, “mostly on social media.”
And others. Everyone is etched with precision, persons in their own right, however briefly they might appear.
Majumdar's intimate prose about places and people is tinged with a clever deftness, designed to stir us. We steer along the story with him, to its next stop- India, now fully immersed and invested in Megha’s travails, in academia and otherwise.
Everything about Megha’s arrival and stay in India is familiar, and recognizable to an Indian who has lived there. I have. Bangalore’s Koshy, more recently, and Kolkata’s Howrah bridge and Diamond Harbour from my deep childhood turn immediately familiar as Megha visits these two cities later. I travel with her, as her.
Then there is Poonam, who glides into Megha’s life most naturally- a Protestant girl from Ranchi whose presence and more so, her absence in the teacher’s life, shake up the very foundations upon which Megha’s new Indian venture has attempted to establish itself.
The pure and grounded Poonam slowly and surely winds her way into Megha’s psyche and stirs it up, blowing sands away, revealing and concealing all at once. Their relationship isn’t sexual, but sensual. It isn’t a clear friendship of equals, how could it be, yet it defies definition, and resists getting boxed in. Poonam is powerful in the least obvious manner.
Megha embraces her presence, puzzled repeatedly by what she feels.
The latter half of the novel had me transfixed- as if I was being led, on a whitewater rafting expedition on the Ganges, minus a navigational crew. It meanders via rapids of varying intensity.
“Did you hear your poems today? What happens to poems when words vanish? Do they still remain poems?”
It was an experience to navigate the multi-themed worlds of academia, the privileged lot and the underdog, or does one baulk at the mention of it?
Did I love where The Middle Finger led me to?
There lay a sweet pain in what I perceived to be the beginning of another story. I realized how much of Megha and Poonam had fused into one being, and stayed with me.
©Kamalininatesan
‘Poetry called her in a different language.’
She teaches poetry writing at Rutgers in America, after having discarded her PhD thesis, as she constantly reminds the reader. Staving off uncertainties and doubts by getting drawn into others’ lives and narratives, she harbours a deep sadness stemming from an unruly and fickle childhood, raised by a mother who is the exact opposite of all that Megha is drawn to.
Although she takes the leap of following the life of her poems, - “they came from anger and hissed like droplets on hot metal. Little slippery stories that crawled in verse, speaking in tongues. They wanted to slap the world. They struck people and bruised them,” she often feels duplicitous.
“Too loud, too dramatic, too psychedelic, what was she doing writing them? Bitterness spiked in Megha, a dark cloud. The bitterness of her poems splayed out in public, amidst a beer-battered crowds, the mix of shame and joy that drove her into the restroom, listening to the sound of violence outside.”
Yet her poems are performed, “In smoky bars, in poor quality YouTube videos, watched them performed on Instagram to the recording of guitarists outside New York City subway stations….”
Prose and poetry drip effortlessly from Majumdar’s pen.
Megha eventually accepts a job at Harappa University in Haryana (India) in a moment of surety, persuaded by friends Lasya and Rory. She is a good teacher, even a popular one. Of the students, Majumdar writes, “They trusted her They offered themselves. Their lives came out, skinned and minced, sometimes rhyming, sometimes groping for rhyme.”
The book has some memorable characters like Rory, who has mastered dance at Kalakshetra and chooses to interpret Megha’s poetry via movement. He is married to the lovely Lasya Ramachandran. Rory says, as he pops a diet coke, “The paradox of Bharatnatyam is that it strains your body and soothes your mind at the same time.”
I loved this. I know it. I get it.
I was mesmerized by Rory’s performance; we watch the dancer bathe her words in silence and song, and its sonority fires up the stage.
“There was thunder on the stage. Rory was demonic and then a shy teenage girl. “
‘Rory has written poetry with his whole body.’
There are others like Vivek, an old classmate of Megha, who comes and goes at will from the pages, who doesn’t interest me as much as I begin to not like him. Then there’s Kevin and Alberto, two good people, owners of a cottage on the Hudson; Jishnu Maurya, a young and bright boy who adores Megha’s poetry and has seen it being performed, “mostly on social media.”
And others. Everyone is etched with precision, persons in their own right, however briefly they might appear.
Majumdar's intimate prose about places and people is tinged with a clever deftness, designed to stir us. We steer along the story with him, to its next stop- India, now fully immersed and invested in Megha’s travails, in academia and otherwise.
Everything about Megha’s arrival and stay in India is familiar, and recognizable to an Indian who has lived there. I have. Bangalore’s Koshy, more recently, and Kolkata’s Howrah bridge and Diamond Harbour from my deep childhood turn immediately familiar as Megha visits these two cities later. I travel with her, as her.
Then there is Poonam, who glides into Megha’s life most naturally- a Protestant girl from Ranchi whose presence and more so, her absence in the teacher’s life, shake up the very foundations upon which Megha’s new Indian venture has attempted to establish itself.
The pure and grounded Poonam slowly and surely winds her way into Megha’s psyche and stirs it up, blowing sands away, revealing and concealing all at once. Their relationship isn’t sexual, but sensual. It isn’t a clear friendship of equals, how could it be, yet it defies definition, and resists getting boxed in. Poonam is powerful in the least obvious manner.
Megha embraces her presence, puzzled repeatedly by what she feels.
The latter half of the novel had me transfixed- as if I was being led, on a whitewater rafting expedition on the Ganges, minus a navigational crew. It meanders via rapids of varying intensity.
“Did you hear your poems today? What happens to poems when words vanish? Do they still remain poems?”
It was an experience to navigate the multi-themed worlds of academia, the privileged lot and the underdog, or does one baulk at the mention of it?
Did I love where The Middle Finger led me to?
There lay a sweet pain in what I perceived to be the beginning of another story. I realized how much of Megha and Poonam had fused into one being, and stayed with me.
©Kamalininatesan
March 21, 2022
The Middle Finger explores various shades of a student-teacher relationship. And the ethical boundaries that govern such relationships. Megha, the protagonist is a writing lecturer who has always enjoyed a privileged life and education. She decides to return to India after leaving her PhD dissertation midway in the US to teach at a prominent Delhi university. It is in Delhi where Megha meets Poonam, a central character in the novel, when the latter helps Megha set up her new home. And a different kind of friendship develops between them. But within the conforms of the social rung from where they originally hail from.
The Middle Finger has been nothing short of an emotional rollercoaster for me. My feelings alternating between excitement, sadness, joyousness, exhilaration to disappointment and desperation. Yet, I was left yearning for more. The sporadic attraction and tension between Megha and Poonam is electrifying to say the least. The author has woven some beautiful and poignant moments between them. Even while I reveled in Megha’s and Poonam’s mutual admiration, I was acutely aware of the disappointment and hurt that Poonam felt upon being slighted by Megha on few occasions. Poonam's tearful eyes when Megha rebukes her for staining her beautiful carpet with her soiled feet brought tears to my eyes. I could feel Poonam’s pain and hurt as if it was me who was being rebuked and not a character in the novel. The author was able to touch a raw nerve there. But what I truly loved is the manner in which the author has emphasized on giving each of the characters a clear and distinct voice.
The Middle Finger runs high on emotions, is deeply sensitive, and entrenched with pathos. The outstanding portrayal of all characters, particularly from their standing in the social ladder can only be expected from a deeply sensitive thinker and writer. Saikat Majumdar excels in his craft as a writer of outstanding caliber.
I cannot thank the author enough for motivating me to break the disciplined monotony of my reading habits. And be willing to explore subjects that are although conventional, yet not attempted by many writers.
The Middle Finger has left an indelible mark on me. I have shed tears while hugging the book close to my chest. Just so I could preserve those fleeting memories. But mostly to give the book the respect it deserves. Putting the book back on the shelf, after reading it was like bidding adieu to an ex lover. A lover who continues to live in our heart, even after we have parted ways.
A novel of such brilliance and magnificence ought to be celebrated by readers both in India as well as internationally. The only other novel that came close to what I felt while reading The Middle Finger was the English translation of Orhan Pamuk's The Red Haired Woman. I would love to see The Middle Finger turned into a mini web-series some day. Something like a "Modern Love" on Prime Movies. Perhaps a sensitive director and producer will pick it up one day. But I must insist that the author write the script himself.
The Middle Finger has been nothing short of an emotional rollercoaster for me. My feelings alternating between excitement, sadness, joyousness, exhilaration to disappointment and desperation. Yet, I was left yearning for more. The sporadic attraction and tension between Megha and Poonam is electrifying to say the least. The author has woven some beautiful and poignant moments between them. Even while I reveled in Megha’s and Poonam’s mutual admiration, I was acutely aware of the disappointment and hurt that Poonam felt upon being slighted by Megha on few occasions. Poonam's tearful eyes when Megha rebukes her for staining her beautiful carpet with her soiled feet brought tears to my eyes. I could feel Poonam’s pain and hurt as if it was me who was being rebuked and not a character in the novel. The author was able to touch a raw nerve there. But what I truly loved is the manner in which the author has emphasized on giving each of the characters a clear and distinct voice.
The Middle Finger runs high on emotions, is deeply sensitive, and entrenched with pathos. The outstanding portrayal of all characters, particularly from their standing in the social ladder can only be expected from a deeply sensitive thinker and writer. Saikat Majumdar excels in his craft as a writer of outstanding caliber.
I cannot thank the author enough for motivating me to break the disciplined monotony of my reading habits. And be willing to explore subjects that are although conventional, yet not attempted by many writers.
The Middle Finger has left an indelible mark on me. I have shed tears while hugging the book close to my chest. Just so I could preserve those fleeting memories. But mostly to give the book the respect it deserves. Putting the book back on the shelf, after reading it was like bidding adieu to an ex lover. A lover who continues to live in our heart, even after we have parted ways.
A novel of such brilliance and magnificence ought to be celebrated by readers both in India as well as internationally. The only other novel that came close to what I felt while reading The Middle Finger was the English translation of Orhan Pamuk's The Red Haired Woman. I would love to see The Middle Finger turned into a mini web-series some day. Something like a "Modern Love" on Prime Movies. Perhaps a sensitive director and producer will pick it up one day. But I must insist that the author write the script himself.
February 10, 2022
A narrative that grips you from the start, The Middle Finger by Saikat Majumdar is a story layered with multiple themes that sets you thinking and characters that stay with you long after you’ve put down the book. Poet and professor, Megha Mansukhani with a CV that many would envy, returns to India in the midst of employment uncertainties in the US to begin work at one of those newly sprouting large, elite, private universities set up on the American model, not in metropolitan centres but their back of beyond.
The novel begins in one of the working-class localities of Kolkata, then travels to the United States of America, only to return to India, this time to a spot in Haryana, finally, in a circular fashion to end in Kolkata – all of which more than familiar to the author, who draws evocative pictures of each of these places. Poonam, introduced early in the plot, is such a central part of it that she could easily rival for the position of the protagonist alongside Megha.
One of the key themes of the novel is poetry. That makes the novel a kind of metafiction, except that this is a novel that reflects on the writing of poetry, not prose. Megha’s hugely popular poems lend themselves to oral renditions in cafes and other such spaces. However, Megha herself is deeply embarrassed about the performance of her poetry and she would rather see it being read. The transference of poetry from the visual to the aural mode is not something she appreciates. Poetry, in its earliest forms as epic verse, song, etc. was always meant to be recited and heard. Sometime in the early modern period, the invention of printing put a poem on a page as it were. Ever since, poetry has largely been read rather than performed. A revival of oral recitations took place in the 1990s in American cities such as Chicago and New York in a throwback to the 1940s American Beat Poet Movement. Today, what goes by the name of spoken word poetry, increasingly popular in coffee houses, literary clubs and on social media, has seen the quick rise of poets, especially young, such as Andrea Gibson, Emi Mahmoud, Anaga Sinha Ray and Alok Vaid-Menon, to stardom.
Despite being a poet, whose poetry is performed to appreciative audiences, there’s a disquiet that persists in Megha. Her return to India, after several years in the US, overwhelms her with the number of people more than willing to help smoothen her transition. One among these is the shy, somewhat hesitant Poonam, whom we have met in the early pages of the novel. Poonam guides Megha through the bylanes of Old Delhi to buy curtains one day, furniture another day; once home, even arranges books in the shelves and offers to cook for her. All she wants in return is to be taught English by Megha which she firmly refuses saying that she cannot teach language, only literature. The Poonam-Megha relationship from the word go is skewed in favour of Megha, the upper-class America-returned professor and Poonam, a church worker who lived above a slaughter house in Kolakta and then shifted to Delhi after some time in Ranchi. The novel questions the idea of teaching, of mentorship and raises the important question, ‘Can a teacher teach without teaching?’
A large part of the novel is devoted to exploring the dynamics of the Poonma-Megha relationship, that is full of an ingratiating subservience on the one hand and erotic desire on the other, which in a surprising twist, Majumdar turns on its head. I end this with just one line about what I made of the provocative title of the novel. To me, it represents, the insouciance of the freshly self-actualized Poonam.
The novel begins in one of the working-class localities of Kolkata, then travels to the United States of America, only to return to India, this time to a spot in Haryana, finally, in a circular fashion to end in Kolkata – all of which more than familiar to the author, who draws evocative pictures of each of these places. Poonam, introduced early in the plot, is such a central part of it that she could easily rival for the position of the protagonist alongside Megha.
One of the key themes of the novel is poetry. That makes the novel a kind of metafiction, except that this is a novel that reflects on the writing of poetry, not prose. Megha’s hugely popular poems lend themselves to oral renditions in cafes and other such spaces. However, Megha herself is deeply embarrassed about the performance of her poetry and she would rather see it being read. The transference of poetry from the visual to the aural mode is not something she appreciates. Poetry, in its earliest forms as epic verse, song, etc. was always meant to be recited and heard. Sometime in the early modern period, the invention of printing put a poem on a page as it were. Ever since, poetry has largely been read rather than performed. A revival of oral recitations took place in the 1990s in American cities such as Chicago and New York in a throwback to the 1940s American Beat Poet Movement. Today, what goes by the name of spoken word poetry, increasingly popular in coffee houses, literary clubs and on social media, has seen the quick rise of poets, especially young, such as Andrea Gibson, Emi Mahmoud, Anaga Sinha Ray and Alok Vaid-Menon, to stardom.
Despite being a poet, whose poetry is performed to appreciative audiences, there’s a disquiet that persists in Megha. Her return to India, after several years in the US, overwhelms her with the number of people more than willing to help smoothen her transition. One among these is the shy, somewhat hesitant Poonam, whom we have met in the early pages of the novel. Poonam guides Megha through the bylanes of Old Delhi to buy curtains one day, furniture another day; once home, even arranges books in the shelves and offers to cook for her. All she wants in return is to be taught English by Megha which she firmly refuses saying that she cannot teach language, only literature. The Poonam-Megha relationship from the word go is skewed in favour of Megha, the upper-class America-returned professor and Poonam, a church worker who lived above a slaughter house in Kolakta and then shifted to Delhi after some time in Ranchi. The novel questions the idea of teaching, of mentorship and raises the important question, ‘Can a teacher teach without teaching?’
A large part of the novel is devoted to exploring the dynamics of the Poonma-Megha relationship, that is full of an ingratiating subservience on the one hand and erotic desire on the other, which in a surprising twist, Majumdar turns on its head. I end this with just one line about what I made of the provocative title of the novel. To me, it represents, the insouciance of the freshly self-actualized Poonam.
May 22, 2022
I finished reading the book 5 days ago. There are many moments and metaphors that have stayed with me. They are just so amazing. Other than the story that builds up a lot and breaks a lot, I loved the way the 'environment' changes for readers - it feels different when I read Megha's life in the US and her days back in India. USA where many cultures flock in, in search of opportunities. India where multi-culturalism is indigenous. Ambitions and failures floating somewhere in between - as rich as a dream, as poor as being lost in a crowd. In between comes poetry and prose, books and bookshelves, one moment of passion and another grossly reclusive, deconstructing and reconstructing identities based on the choices made. Teaching, no doubt is a 'romantic' career - sometimes disturbingly exposing too. Traditionally teachers are perceived as the voice of God, absolute and strong, holding the students by their pulse. In this book the author has explored the reverse. Poonam, whom Megha didn't quite consider her legitimate student, but she claimed to have learnt from her, is aware of the rhythms of her 'teacher' and doesn't hesitate to push some blockages that Megha wasn't aware of. Wonderful.
January 20, 2022
'The Middle Finger ' -isn't the name interesting. We often associate the same with a no-care attitude or harness this to drive, eliminate fear and spark joy in doing what you like the most. This book exactly speaks that way. The initial half is slow and it shows the life of Megha in the US, her convoluted life juggling between friends and the pain of an unfinished business. The second phase of the book justify the purpose and speaks volume about literature(it's meaning in our modern society), young readers and their responsibilities, race, culture, and identity.
Who are you when you speak about others?
Who are you when you write about them?
Do you feel the pain or is it like most of us- fake!
This never-ending tussle of belongingness, affection, and love has a different language.
You can always find purpose in a newer way with new people. Saikat Majumdar, just like his previous work has kept it simple but highly relevant.
Read this for poetry, read this book for many other reasons. Let me know what is that one word which defines mortification and wants, what is that lingering effect?
Who are you when you speak about others?
Who are you when you write about them?
Do you feel the pain or is it like most of us- fake!
This never-ending tussle of belongingness, affection, and love has a different language.
You can always find purpose in a newer way with new people. Saikat Majumdar, just like his previous work has kept it simple but highly relevant.
Read this for poetry, read this book for many other reasons. Let me know what is that one word which defines mortification and wants, what is that lingering effect?
March 6, 2022
This is one of those novels to which every reader will connect differently. The broader categories of race, class and colour have been discussed as the protagonist moves from the States to India. The novel beautifully deals with everyday traumas: especially those of ‘difference’.
Further this book will take you through an honest journey of an academic who is trying to find/create a more substantial place for herself as she explores the choices she can’t help but make. It will talk about the anxieties and uncertainties of a budding writer; the struggles of being moderately popular.
Written in a conversational style, readers will experience an omniscient presence and halfway through start rooting for Megha and her career.
Later on, the dilemma of dealing with people when one is exposed to multiple cultures becomes one of the central conflicts of the novel.
What I am left wondering…
How do you define kindness and where do the boundaries of kindness merge into fondness…
Further this book will take you through an honest journey of an academic who is trying to find/create a more substantial place for herself as she explores the choices she can’t help but make. It will talk about the anxieties and uncertainties of a budding writer; the struggles of being moderately popular.
Written in a conversational style, readers will experience an omniscient presence and halfway through start rooting for Megha and her career.
Later on, the dilemma of dealing with people when one is exposed to multiple cultures becomes one of the central conflicts of the novel.
What I am left wondering…
How do you define kindness and where do the boundaries of kindness merge into fondness…
February 1, 2022
I enjoyed reading the book, especially the second half. I honestly thought the first half was a bit stretched. My favourite part about the book was Poonam's character, i think it was really well done and the tension between the main characters is held together beautifully, the glue being poetry is the icing on the cake.
I was also expecting a little bit more drama towards the end but I understand the nuances in exploring this territory.
Thank you for writing this Saikat and thank you for exploring the very definition of talent and privilege and it's boundaries and of course the question 'can anyone write poetry'. Can't wait to see what magic you weave next!
I was also expecting a little bit more drama towards the end but I understand the nuances in exploring this territory.
Thank you for writing this Saikat and thank you for exploring the very definition of talent and privilege and it's boundaries and of course the question 'can anyone write poetry'. Can't wait to see what magic you weave next!
January 16, 2023
Very overrated. Hard to understand the characters and what they are saying to each other most of the time. The characters feel unreal and unrelateable. I want to give the book the middle finger (sorry, could not resist that) 😐
Read
May 20, 2023Intrested by the synopsis and quality cover design jacket and quality product. But after reading 80 pages still can't get along with the book tossed away. don't judge the book by cover and synopsis too.must add shelves for tossed away here.its not working for me.
January 23, 2025
Explores the life of a doctoral student living in the US and India. Also looks at themes of class in India, academia in the US and fluid attraction in urban India. The writing was a little slow in the second half. Love Saikat's characters and how rooted they are in the Indian context.
May 16, 2022
This started with a decently intriguing idea, but seemed to lose focus in the second half. Not helped by the purple-prose writing which only distracted from the plot.
September 28, 2022
Could not relate to the writing
June 9, 2023
A stunning cover page, that reflects the content. Well-written story.
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