All in the name of honour

So much of Teen Couple Have Fun Outdoors reminded me of what it was like to be a teenager in Kerala and my constant worry of getting into trouble. I’ll never forget being called out during class to the school principal’s office, only to be chided by a group of teachers for having a boyfriend. To be shamed at 14 for having a boyfriend — the stigma doesn’t leave you easily.

In Aravind Jayan’s debut, set in Trivandrum, a young couple’s lives take a nasty turn when a video clip of them getting intimate (secretly filmed) is leaked, and uploaded to multiple porn sites. To imagine that something so normal and natural for two people in love — Sreenath and Anita, in this case — can have such damaging consequences is both heartbreaking and terrifying. It is important to acknowledge how much of this is brought on by their families alone, in the name of honour.

Before throwing him out of the house, Sreenath’s father says: “Out there in the open. Behaving like some worthless animal. Aren’t you ashamed?” Then, the inevitable emotional blackmail and guilt-tripping that make so many of us desperate to flee the places that stifle us: What will the neighbours think? What will our families say?

Told from Sreenath’s younger brother’s perspective, the narrative sucks you in right away; I found myself wrapped up in their drama, my stomach in a knot, rooting solidly for the young couple. Perhaps it has to do with the intimacy with which the story is told — an insider’s perspective — and his urgency to better the situation as it spirals way beyond his control.

Jayan’s writing is sharp, unshowy and funny, and doesn’t ever feel laboured. It captures with empathy the frustrations of a liberal young person living in a small town, having to flit between discussing Werner Herzog’s lofty ideas and dealing with one’s own family, “lost in smallness.” I read the book when I was unwell and cranky, and there were moments when I was so immersed in it that I even forgot to wallow in self-pity.

Having spent my teenage years telling many small and pointless lies just to avoid conflict, I wondered: will young people in India ever be able to reveal their true selves to their parents? Or, will we continue to drink in private, air our views only on social media, and pretend we’re celibate?

I loved that Sreenath and Anita — both in their early 20s — are shown doing their best to stay cool and unaffected, despite being under so much scrutiny and having wholly unsupportive families. And that when a bunch of their old college juniors poke fun at them at a supermarket and ask for their autographs, now that they’re famous, they actually oblige.

Of course, common notions of amorality are exponentially more repressive for girls and women in India. Anita’s mother is pushy and relentless — insisting that they get married, that being the only honourable thing to do now. At the police station, while attempting to file a complaint about the video, an officer tells Sreenath’s father: “Your son has practically destroyed this young woman’s life. Do you understand that?”

Through all of this turmoil, Anita and Sreenath are holed up at a friend’s place, trying to find some semblance to their old lives. Exhausted by her parents’ overblown reactions, and recounting several incidents of being policed by her relatives in the past, she says: “It’s f***ing traumatic being a woman in this country.” I really feel her pain, I do.

Tragically, while this is fiction, we all know how common incidents like these are in India, and how our conservatism pushes people to the very edge. Fortunately, Jayan’s ability to find humour even when things turn dark kept me from sinking. I felt lucky to have started the year with something so original, fresh, and compelling. It even felt oddly freeing to feel rage on the behalf of my 14-year-old self, knowing now that this was no way for any adolescent girl to be treated, and that we must resolutely defy everyday sexism, even when it comes from people we love.

The author is a Bengaluru-based writer and editor who believes in the power of daily naps. Find her on Instagram @yaminivijayan

Unbound is a monthly column for anyone who likes to take shelter in books, and briefly forget the dreariness of adult life.