Written by Ranjeeta Raam
Illustrations by Damini Gupta
Reviewed by Ashwini Padwal and Sujata Noronha
A book that shows the darker side of the treatment of temple animals, quoted in a Hindu ritualistic story, presenting unidimensional characters and context, reproducing the dominant religion rather than questioning it.
If Elephants Could Talk by Ranjeeta Raam is a debut novel in verse in which Meenakshi, a twelve-year-old girl from a small town in Kerala, finds a deep kinship with a newly arrived but ageing temple elephant – Ganeshan. At the very beginning of the book, we learn that Meenakshi has lost her mother recently. The opening scene includes Meenakshi daydreaming of her Amma doing a puja in a small, crammed altar, and the stage for a reader entering an upper caste Hindu family is set. We often wonder if writers are even aware of the trauma and continued oppression that such a setting will evoke for hundreds of readers. We also acknowledge that it may be difficult to remove religion from books, as it seems to be embedded in ways of life, but oppressive aspects of religion could well be opened up in books rather than reproduced. We are reminded of B. R. Ambedkar, who wrote, “ You must have the courage to tell the Hindus, that what is wrong with them is their religion – the religion which has produced in them this notion of Caste”.
Moving on, with the loss of her mother, young Meenakshi has also lost her voice. Burdened by grief, she spends hours alone, locked in her room and distanced from friends, subject to bullying by a teacher and classmates when in school. Her home life includes her father, Acha, and an artist activist cousin, Anju Chechi, who stays in touch over weekly calls. In this emotionally isolated state, Meenakshi finds solace and companionship with the temple elephant, whom she also loses. The plot centers around Meenakshi both finding herself, her voice and her purpose through the experience of witnessing the temple elephants Ganeshan and Arjunan being tortured and abused for profit. While the premise is promising, the book plays with the setting in a closed loop. It appears to demand that humans (in this case temple priests, temple presidents, mahouts and the hindu community of the village) want to have their way, abuse of temple elephants for profit at any cost in the name of religious practices, including dismissing the village priest (Acha- Meenakshi’s father) and beating, vandalising and threatening Acha and Meenakshi, who are attempting to stop the elephant abuse. Instead of questioning the practice of religion itself, the text is littered with references to ritualistic acts and cultural practices celebrated. Meenakshi draws courage throughout the long cycles of the story by imploring with Goddess Bhagavathy, visiting the temple and so on. An opportunity to allow readers to question and examine what blind ritualistic practices render the human spirit to is lost in this telling. Other characters like the Science teacher, the two boys who bully Meenakshi, and the well meaning friend Nirmala are not developed or even rounded for the reader and are presented unidimensionally, which we feel is another missed opportunity in the telling.
In terms of format, verse novels do specific things with the telling. From many others in the library, we realise that in the verse structure, each unit of text earns its existence by the way it turns the narrative. Line breaks are usually / typically very particular and happen at precise moments like a timing device.
In this book, for most parts, the text appears to be prose broken up into verse, with events in order of first this, then that, as in this excerpt from page 227
When he tells them
About Ganeshan’s final moments,
I bring a dented biscuit tin from my room,
open it,
show them the contents inside-
the pebbles,
the glass shards
and the nail.
We sneak into the temple premises
in the afternoon
when there is no one around.
No president or committee members
or worshipers.
I run to Arjunan.
Just as I hug his trunk, he lifts me up
and places me on his back.
The entire crew laughs.
On occasion, we get a poetic moment, as in this line on Page 42,
Ganeshan saunters unhurriedly,
gracefully,
like a dancer wearing chilanga.
We recognise the trust the author has placed in the reader’s stamina with the length and plot of the telling. The plot points in this novel are more than one, allowing the reader an extended time and tension with the problem, which was good to note. There is the foreshadowing of assertion through protests, petitions and standing one’s ground. The solution also was more layered than what one is usually presented with in writing from the subcontinent. Everything does tie up neatly in a bow, but the way Meenakshi and her father succeed includes a precious father-daughter alliance, a spirited and innovative form of public appeal and storytelling through Meenakshi’s Bharatanatyam arangetram performance and finally a rehab hospital for elephants. So within the hindu caste society, a resolution emerges.
While the setting on one level is idyllic countryside with flowering bush and tree, coconut football, flowing river, pacha mango, firework displays, we appear to see this from one religious community that lives together, but we understand Kerala as much more complicated and diverse and wondered why there was no representation of anyone else in this story.
The text is non threatening in its layout with a lot of white space. There are some interesting disruptions with the use of dark pages to signal dark emotional moments, some typographic shape poems in a few places and some onomatopoeia. Each segment of events in Meenakshi’s life across a calendar year are marked by a title in a darker font. However, one cannot read these poems (if intended to be that) in any random order. The entire text is sequential and interspersed in parts by two page illustrations. We wondered why illustrations were needed because a verse novel is meant to be evocative of imagery by its very nature. We checked with readers and this is what some of them had to say,
‘I could visualise all details and the bigger picture from reading the words; seeing the illustrations, they seem ok, ’ shared one child reader.
Seeing the front cover, one child immediately noticed the elephant being chained. However, he was less drawn to the other illustrations in the book.
The endnotes of the book include a lengthy 10 page Author Note, a Glossary and an acknowledgement section. We were unclear whom the Author Note was intended for because it denoted class, caste, and a limited worldview, implying meat eating as equal to animal brutality, possibly oblivious to cattle farming families who raise their animals with care and custodial love even if they have to sell them in the end. The Glossary, explaining the meaning of Malayalam words in English, may help to build understanding and the context of the story to readers outside the Hindu temple town of Kerala.
While the intent of the young twelve year old Meenakshi as the heroine in the story is the stuff of stories, we acknowledge the author’s stated intent to show the darker side of treatment of temple animals and wondered if a child in traditional, ritualistic families is empowered to have a voice. How much chance do their voices stand to bring about change?
We may reserve this book for use when trying to understand animal care and animal work, but would not keep it on an open shelf in the library.
Other Books
- A Pair of Twins by Kavitha Mandana, Karadi Tales, 2014
- An Elephant in the Garden by Michael Morpurgo, HarperCollins, 2010
- A Wild Elephant at Camp by Anupama Moharkar, Tara Books, 2007
- Elephants Never Forget by Anushka Ravishankar, Tara Books, 2007
- Magnificent Makhna by Aravind Krish Bala, Tulika Books, 2012
- Mahagiri by Hemalata, Children’s Book Trust, 1965
- Speaking To An Elephant And Other Tales From The Kadars by Madhuri Ramesh and Manish Chandi, Tara Books, 2017-18
- That Summer at Kalaghar by Ranjit Lal, Tulika Books, 2001
- The Magician’s Elephant by Kate DiCamillo, Candlewick Press, 2009

