‘Never Never Land’ by Namita Gokhale: Retreat, to return

Rachna Singh

When the wizened snow peaks of Kumaon beckon, Iti Arya, a recluse writer and editor from Gurgaon, must heed the call. So, she shuts down her lonely, unhappy, 50-something life without regret and heads to ‘The Dacha’ and her grandmothers, a 90-and-thereabouts Badi Amma and Rosinka Singh, all of 102. Embraced by the misty and resplendent arms of Kumaon and the loving, unquestioning love of the two ancient women, Iti’s loneliness, uncertainty and anxiety dissipate and she begins her slow but steady march to a realisation that she must ‘retreat to return’.

The August rains that play hide and seek with the sun keep the inhabitants of The Dacha safe from the encroachment of the outside world. But caught in the confines of the remote cottage on dark, stormy nights, with the candle flickering, its denizens Badi Amma and Rosinka journey back into the past and their dark secrets come tumbling out. Caught in the mayhem of memories along with Iti is Nina, of mysterious antecedents.

Namita Gokhale, a creative wordsmith, has crafted a story within a story with great finesse. She peels off each layer bit by bit, surprising the reader at every turn. Gokhale weaves an elegant, literary tapestry with poetic gems and philosophical threads that make the reader pause and introspect. She examines with loving warmth as well as a no-holds-barred honesty, the ageing and deterioration of the human body, the mind and memory. At the same time, she dwells upon the foibles of youth and the anxiety of losing a loved one.

The story of ‘Never Never Land’ also encompasses within its framework the concern about global warming, human and urban encroachment on pristine natural beauty and the raging fallout of man’s unsolicited interventions. And yet, despite the fact that the book hinges around the thought of impending death, with constant allusions to an ephemeral life, it leaves the reader with a serene sense of acceptance, even hope. “It is not renewal but revival,” says Iti, and we agree wholeheartedly .

Very arresting about the book is the manner in which Gokhale seamlessly interlaces music, literature and art. The bits and pieces of music played on the gramophone or sung in quavering voices by Rosinka and Badi Amma, from ‘The Last Rose of Summer’ to ‘Auld Lang Syne’, are evocative of a leisurely time when we were not caught up in the frenzy of a rat race.

Nicholas Roerich’s paintings hanging in the dusty, mouldy library of The Dacha make him a living, breathing presence. It is almost as though the brilliant blues and pristine whites of his canvas are brought to radiant, vibrant life. The gorgeous book cover, with its detailing of Roerich’s painting ‘Oriot Messenger of the White Burkhant’, adds to the uncanny feeling that Roerich is the sentinel that guards the entry to this beautiful Never Never Land, where the sage mountains speak to those who would care to listen.

Like the main protagonist, Iti, while reading ‘Never Never Land’, I too felt: ‘I was alone, and myself, in a place where I belonged.’

A must-read for lovers of literature, music and art.