பிரியங்கா சிங் என்ற வாசகர் ‘The Abyss’ பற்றிய இந்த வாசிப்பை இன்ஸ்டாகிராமில் பகிர்ந்துள்ளார். இவர் ஒர் தொடர்பயணி. (புகைப்படத்தில் எகிப்தின் கீஸா பிரமிடுகளுக்கு முன்னால் அமர்ந்தபடி புத்தகத்தை படித்துக்கொண்டிருக்
When I first came to Mumbai, I was homeless within a month. That’s when I discovered a whole different world I would otherwise mock and flinch away from. When I used the last 10 rupee note to feed a sibling duo outside one of the Mumbai stations; a few nights later, it was them who offered to share their cardboard piece because it wasn’t safe for me to be out alone. For them, who had nothing, they still chose to share the warmth and little morsel they had.
Jeyamohan writes of how he lived his life as a beggar when ran away from home and had nothing to fall back upon. He too discovered a world on the other side of the abyss that very few dare to venture or even have the least inclination to do so. He experienced a family deeper than blood and bonds no discord could break. I was quickly whisked back in time to days I have chosen to forget and lock away.
Cracking open the spine of The Abyss, the opening chapters invoked a vestigial memory of Beggar-master and his retinue. India is a country where even dirt sells. Humans are just another prime commodity. Suffering sells best. Know how to milk it.
In a few chapters, Jeyamohan delivers a horrific, flinching tale of debased human experience. A tale where disability is exploited and encashed. Money passes through hands like water. The levels of cruelty and pain are horrific.
The circle of pain and suffering comes to a full circle. As the proverb goes, “as you sow, so shall you reap.” Jeyamohan has written a parable of karmic completion in the most realistic manner possible. Try as you may, you won’t inure yourself to this horrific miasma that’s playing out for real, but we turn a blind eye to.”