I was some fifty pages into The White Tiger, a novel by Aravind Adiga, before I realized that what I was reading sounded quite familiar. I had forgotten altogether having seen the movie version of the novel not very long ago; partly, I suppose, because I was now reading the Indonesian language translation of the story and partly just because of the state of my moth-eaten memory.
In any case, I found this, as I read to the end, to be quite an engaging novel about a subject not often spoken of in the realm of popular literary fiction--that being the sad state of the poor in the rather heartless caste society of India, those who are born in the kegelapan, as the Indonesian has it, the darkness--born in a societal cage and fated to live out their existence in that cage, essentially the slaves of those who are above them.
But there is a way out, as protagonist Balram discovers, and it is right in front of one's nose from the beginning. He finds the key in a line of poetry, in a dog-eared book he happens to pick up from a table in a market place serving lesser folks like him, located behind the market for the higher class. There is a way to freedom, self respect, independence, although it is, by the way, bad news for the masters!
This is a well written novel, both enlightening and disturbing. I recommend it.
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