Portraying the story of a woman's search for strength and independence; Anita Nair's 'Ladies Coupe' focuses on the latent strengths which every individual has. Read Ladies Coupe by Anita Nair for free with a 30 day free trial. Read unlimited* books and audiobooks on the web, iPad, iPhone and Android. Meet Akhila: forty-five and single, an income-tax clerk, and a woman who has never In the intimate atmosphere of the all-women sleeping car - the 'Ladies Coupe' - Akhila asks the five women the question that has been Download PDF.
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PDF | On Jan 6, , Katam Samaikya and others published Ladies Anita Nair's Ladies Coupé follows the journey of 5 middle-aged women. Into the Vortex: Indian Women in Anita. Nair's novel Ladies Coupe. Sushama Kasbekar. ABSTRACT. Indian society is even today cloistered, traditional and. 1. Chapter 4 “ Akhila's Journey through Self Discovery in “Ladies Coupe”. Modern Indian-English writer Anita Nair is considered as a audacious and straight.
These days her sister was suspicious of everything she did or said. And not there. We are in the same compartment too. She has always been a provider — as a daughter, as a sister and as an aunt. A railway-crossing with the streetlight glinting on the glasses of a man on a static scooter, hands dangling at his side, heel on the ground, head cocked, watching, waiting for the train to hurtle past.
She comes back to her place with renewed energy, with the courage of organizing her life. Nair, Anita. Penguin Books, India Ltd, Pathak, Vandana et al. Contemporary Fiction: Noble Dass ,Veena. Feminism and Literature. New Delhi: Prestige Books, Sterling Publishers, Jain, Jasbir et al.
Contesting Post Colonialisms. Rawat Publications, Related Papers.
By Udayan Chakraborty. Ladies Coupe: A Feminist Study. The Journeying Woman: By Tarun Surya. Download pdf. Remember me on this computer. Anita Nair lives in Bangalore, India. Her books have been published in several languages around the world.
Where were they going? What were their lives like? Akhila moved away from the reservation chart to locate her compartment on the position chart. Eleventh from the engine. She shifted her suitcase to her other hand and began to walk towards the signboard marked eleven. All the benches on the platform were taken, so she went to stand by a dripping water faucet. She bit her lip uncertainly.
Was this the right place? There was something about the elderly couple that made her eyes home in on them again and again.
They radiated a particular calm; an island of unhurried waiting in that sea of fidgety humans. As though they knew that sooner or later the train would arrive and it would be their turn to climb the three steps into the compartment that would take them to their destination. That there was no point in craning their necks, shuffling their feet or manifesting other signs of dissatisfaction until then.
The pong of urine rose and settled with the breeze. Redshirted silver-armbanded porters stood alongside the piled suitcases. A beggar with maimed limbs thrust his tin cup this way and that.
An urchin and a dog ran busily from one end of the platform to the other. A bored policeman stared at the TV screen. The Udayan Express, scheduled to arrive before the Kanyakumari Express, was late. The platform was crowded with people. Alongside Akhila stood a whole family of uncles, aunts, cousins and grandparents who had come to see a lone man off.
He was headed for Bombay from where he would catch a plane to a Middle-Eastern country.
That she knew all about. That she could understand. She turned away from the man and watched the elderly couple. The woman wore a pale pink sari with a narrow gold border, a slim gold chain around her neck, and metal-rimmed spectacles. Her hair lay gathered in a little bun at the nape of her neck. A gold bracelet watch gleamed at her wrist. One hand held a water bottle while the other clutched a narrow leather purse. He seemed nice enough. The couple looked like they belonged together.
What is it about marriage that makes it possible for a man and a woman to mesh their lives, dreams and even their thoughts in such a complete fashion? Her parents used to be like that. They even resembled each other with broad high foreheads, a slight hook to their noses and a cleft in their chins.
They liked their coffee sweetened with two spoons of sugar and their curds set just so. It had to taste almost milk-like.
We are two bodies and one soul. When she was a teenager, Akhila remembered reading a novel about a couple who were passionately in love with each other even after many years of being married. Years later, she could recall neither the name of the book nor its plot. All she remembered was a line: The children of lovers are no better than orphans. She was part of that enchanted circle as well. Later, it embarrassed her. But they remained completely oblivious to her mortification. And even if they sensed it, nothing would deter or diminish what was practically a lifelong love affair.
When her father died, her parents had been married for almost twenty-two years. Every year thereafter, on the date of their wedding day, her mother wept. A diamond for the queen of my heart, he said. She had lost more than a husband. He had been part of her life from the moment she was born. As her uncle, he had carried her in his arms, pointing out butterflies and crows, the moon and the rainbow, the wonders of nature.
In many ways, it was only natural that he should be the one to show her the wonder of being a woman. He was twenty-four. Akhila was born two years and eight months later. Who do you think you are to question it? Akhila was only fourteen. But even so, she heaved a sigh of relief that there was no uncle waiting in the wings for her to grow up.
Her mother threw her a dirty look and suggested that she go out and bring in the washing. But Amma liked to perpetuate this myth about a tyrant husband who was easily annoyed and could be placated only by her complete devotion. Unlike other men in the neighbourhood who let their wives rule them. Every evening between four and six, she gave lessons to the children in the neighbourhood.
At the end of a year of lessons, her students knew enough to participate in school dancing competitions and win a few prizes. So she had plenty of girls coming in for dance lessons.
Besides, she only charged thirty-five rupees a month per student. She made enough money to be able to buy little trinkets for Karpagam and herself. One morning, when Akhila was about nine years old, Karpagam brought to school a foot-long pencil with a cunning little pink plastic hand attached to its end.
Akhila immediately wanted one like it. But Mother bought it at Moore Market. She bargained with the shopkeepers and got it for three rupees. Can I take it home with me for a day? To have and to hold. Perhaps that was why she let Akhila take the pencil home. Amma was annoyed and then furious. Do you realize that Appa works so hard and in spite of it, we find it difficult to make ends meet? What if you break or lose the pencil? Where will I find the money to replace it? The next day Akhila returned the pencil to Karpagam.
But all day and later all night, Akhila thought about it. If Amma had a job, she too would have money of her own and she would be able to buy her the things she needed without troubling Appa about it.
But what could Amma do to earn some money? The next morning, Akhila heard her mother singing under her breath as she went about her chores.
It was a holiday and so Akhila had all day to prepare herself before she approached her mother with what she considered was a master move.
Amma was combing her hair and singing softly. Akhila hastened to explain. All kinds of people come into their house. Brahmins and non-brahmins. Do you think your father would allow such comings and goings on here? Anyway, do you think your father would let me? If I wanted a working wife, then I would have married someone like that, he told me when we were first married. I want my wife to take care of my children and me. A good wife. Amma had her own theories on what a good wife ought to be like.
First of all, no good wife could serve two masters — the masters being her father and her husband.