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A review by raji_c
The Last Wave by Pankaj Sekhsaria
4.0
This year, I want to read at least one book from each state and union territory in India. I think this reading challenge was the result of discovering some lovely Indian fiction as well as reading books like Insider Outsider: Belonging and Unbelonging in North-East India and realising how much of Indian history and politics I am unaware of.
My first read, randomly picked, was from the union territory of Andaman and Nicobar Islands. From Wikipedia: ‘Andaman and Nicobar Islands is a union territory of India consisting of 572 islands, of which 38 are inhabited, at the junction of the Bay of Bengal and the Andaman Sea. The territory is about 150 km north of Aceh in Indonesia and separated from Thailand and Myanmar by the Andaman Sea. It comprises two island groups separated by the 150 km wide Ten Degree Channel (on the 10°N parallel): the Andaman Islands (north of the channel) and the Nicobar Islands (south).’
A little online research offered up The Last Wave by Pankaj Sekhsaria as a read for the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. And it turned out to be a perfect fit. Sekhsaria is ‘a researcher, writer, photographer, campaigner and academic. He has worked extensively in the field of the environment and of wildlife conservation with a particular focus on the Andaman and Nicobar Islands’ [from the book jacket].
For me, the book was less about the plot or characters and more about the place. Harish and Seema, the central protagonists have interesting aspects but were not the kind who I connected with. Their back stories and their ‘romance’ seemed a little stilted to me. However, other characters were more fascinating: Uncle Pame, a Karen man from Webi, one of the first settlements created by the people brought by the British to the Andamans from Myanmar or Dr Sreekumar Kutty, the man who seems to voice many of the author’s concerns about the many ecological and sociological crimes being committed in the islands. The best parts of the book really have to do with the islands, whether it is the description of the day-to-day life, the topography, or the flora and the fauna (especially this!). I did not feel invested in the fate of the characters; for me, the islands were the main protagonists.
This book taught me so much about the history of the Andamans as well as its politics that I did not know. How the different people who call the islands home came to be there — the people from the Chhota Nagpur plateau who were brought by the British to help extract timber, the people from Myanmar also brought over the British, the local borns descended from the convicts or freedom fighters who were imprisoned at the Cellular Jail, the tribes (Onge, Great Andamanese, Jarawa). The forest department’s ‘scientific’ timber extraction, which is converting the evergreen forests of the islands to deciduous ones, altering the ecology of the territory. The gradual encroachment into the lands of the Jarawa and their exploitation, often by law enforcement agencies and politicians. And the dilemma that arises when it seems like the best solution for helping the Jarawas survive is to block off the road that is ostensibly vital for the later settlers of the islands. The climax of this tale features the tsunami of the 2004 which serves as a reminder of how fragile the islands are.
I am inclined to trust much of what Sekhsaria documents given his experience in the region. He has also been one of the most vocal protestors of the Indian government’s Rs 72,000 crore Great Nicobar project that involves, among other things, the denotification of a wildlife sanctuary for a port! Though terribly flawed in its implementation, the Indian government’s policy, at least on paper, thus far, seemed to have always been about preserving the ecology and the lifestyle of the indigenous people. Apparently, that is no longer the case. It seemed more poignant, therefore, before the island became a mere memory, to read about the Andaman and Nicobar Islands and understand the many stakeholders and their problems and gain a glimpse of their lives, all of which Sekhsaria does rather well.
My first read, randomly picked, was from the union territory of Andaman and Nicobar Islands. From Wikipedia: ‘Andaman and Nicobar Islands is a union territory of India consisting of 572 islands, of which 38 are inhabited, at the junction of the Bay of Bengal and the Andaman Sea. The territory is about 150 km north of Aceh in Indonesia and separated from Thailand and Myanmar by the Andaman Sea. It comprises two island groups separated by the 150 km wide Ten Degree Channel (on the 10°N parallel): the Andaman Islands (north of the channel) and the Nicobar Islands (south).’
A little online research offered up The Last Wave by Pankaj Sekhsaria as a read for the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. And it turned out to be a perfect fit. Sekhsaria is ‘a researcher, writer, photographer, campaigner and academic. He has worked extensively in the field of the environment and of wildlife conservation with a particular focus on the Andaman and Nicobar Islands’ [from the book jacket].
For me, the book was less about the plot or characters and more about the place. Harish and Seema, the central protagonists have interesting aspects but were not the kind who I connected with. Their back stories and their ‘romance’ seemed a little stilted to me. However, other characters were more fascinating: Uncle Pame, a Karen man from Webi, one of the first settlements created by the people brought by the British to the Andamans from Myanmar or Dr Sreekumar Kutty, the man who seems to voice many of the author’s concerns about the many ecological and sociological crimes being committed in the islands. The best parts of the book really have to do with the islands, whether it is the description of the day-to-day life, the topography, or the flora and the fauna (especially this!). I did not feel invested in the fate of the characters; for me, the islands were the main protagonists.
This book taught me so much about the history of the Andamans as well as its politics that I did not know. How the different people who call the islands home came to be there — the people from the Chhota Nagpur plateau who were brought by the British to help extract timber, the people from Myanmar also brought over the British, the local borns descended from the convicts or freedom fighters who were imprisoned at the Cellular Jail, the tribes (Onge, Great Andamanese, Jarawa). The forest department’s ‘scientific’ timber extraction, which is converting the evergreen forests of the islands to deciduous ones, altering the ecology of the territory. The gradual encroachment into the lands of the Jarawa and their exploitation, often by law enforcement agencies and politicians. And the dilemma that arises when it seems like the best solution for helping the Jarawas survive is to block off the road that is ostensibly vital for the later settlers of the islands. The climax of this tale features the tsunami of the 2004 which serves as a reminder of how fragile the islands are.
I am inclined to trust much of what Sekhsaria documents given his experience in the region. He has also been one of the most vocal protestors of the Indian government’s Rs 72,000 crore Great Nicobar project that involves, among other things, the denotification of a wildlife sanctuary for a port! Though terribly flawed in its implementation, the Indian government’s policy, at least on paper, thus far, seemed to have always been about preserving the ecology and the lifestyle of the indigenous people. Apparently, that is no longer the case. It seemed more poignant, therefore, before the island became a mere memory, to read about the Andaman and Nicobar Islands and understand the many stakeholders and their problems and gain a glimpse of their lives, all of which Sekhsaria does rather well.