Malayalam author Devadas VM on the genesis of his novel ‘Eru’

Devadas VM’s Eru is a pandemic novel, not because it is about the outbreak. But because it was born when he was forced to stay indoors in his apartment in Chennai, with family and children, the younger one a few months old.

Published in 2021, the novel is back in the news post the release of its English translation, Backlash, by Nandakumar K. Eru’s protagonist is Sreedharan Nair, a retired policeman. His wife is abroad with their daughter, who had recently given birth. The lonely Sreedharan faces an unknown enemy — someone who is pelting stones at his house every night. As he ruminates on who the culprit might be, he wonders if it is someone he might have wronged while he was working. He catches up with all the suspects, but to no avail. Installing CCTVs does not solve the problem either. As news about his predicament spreads solutions come from all quarters. He agrees to do a pooja to ward off a possible attack from ‘invisible, evil forces’. But the whole village is divided over his decision, and the tussle that follows takes the novel forward.

Thrissur-native Devadas, a prominent figure in contemporary Malayalam literature, has written five novels and seven short-story collections. He is a recipient of the Kerala Sahitya Akademi Award and the OV Vijayan Memorial Literary Award, among others. Excerpts from an email interview with Devadas, who is an IT professional in Chennai:

Photo credit: The Hindu The journey to Eru

Many of my stories and novels stem from ideas captured in that fleeting moment between sleep and wakefulness. Sometimes, an entire story or even a movie unfolds in these dreamlike states. I usually jot down the thoughts so that I can use them later. But what if I decide to put it off and go back to sleep? Everything that appeared so clearly vanishes like an illusion. During one such afternoon nap, I dreamt that a hole had appeared in the ceiling directly above me. When I woke and looked, I saw there was a bright glow on the ceiling. I had to rub my eyes to wake myself up to figure out whether it was a dream or reality. Only then did I realise that it was a reflection of my daughter’s toy, which was lying on the floor. I was tricked by the sunlight falling on it, which was being reflected on the ceiling. I then began to think about what it would mean if a hole suddenly appeared in the ceiling while we were asleep. Our sense of peace and privacy could be shattered in an instant. A sudden blow can shatter our tranquillity. As a person’s strength and power begin to fade, the actions of their past can return to haunt them like a stone hurtling through the air. It was in this thought that I found the inspiration to write Eru.

Photo credit: The Hindu How much has the pandemic shaped the narrative?

Ever since I left home for work at the age of 23, I have lived in various cities across India. Because of this, I do not believe in romanticised notions like the inherent goodness of one’s hometown or the purity of village life. In Chennai, I lived in a rented house in a colony of over 50 houses. There was nothing to fear. However, everything I had considered as sources of support and security slowly morphed into sources of fear when pandemic struck. The security guard sneezing or coughing near the gate, the maid working in four or five different houses in the neighbourhood, workers delivering mineral water and vegetables without wearing masks, taxis dropping off strangers on the streets — all of these became metaphors for fear.

Devadas VM | Photo Credit: SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT