Sunday book pick: The rootless marriage of an Englishman and a Bengali woman in ‘Memories of Rain'

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11-05-2025

'He had come to terms with the bitter truth that the unadulterated passion he had felt for her under tropical skikes was not to last forever, that a deep intellectual void was eating away at his wonder, his enchantment.'
Sunetra Gupta's 1992 novella, Memories of Rain, has been recently republished by Westland and Ashoka University's Centre for the Creative and the Critical. The new edition, with a smart green jacket, resurrects the novella for a new generation of readers. Gupta is a teacher, doctor, and the author of six novels. Memories of Rain was her debut.
Rudyard Kipling once said, 'East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet.' The quote fits any number of situations, including the natural disharmony between the two halves of the globe. So, what happens when this disharmony seeps into personal relationships and marriages? Are such marriages destined to doom?
East is East, West is West
Set in London and Calcutta, Memories of Rain is a cerebral novella that ponders the East–West divide and how it plays out in marriages. How does the partner from a more conservative background adapt to a culture that has a more liberal attitude towards marriage? Furthermore, with the colonial past not too far behind, what does the West really think of the East?
In Gupta's novella, Moni, a Bengali woman from Calcutta, marries Anthony, a white Englishman, after a brief relationship during his visit to the city. Moni and Anthony's relationship blooms in the dark – they sit next to each other in darkened movie halls, they sneak a kiss during a Diwali night, and Anthony's overnight stays with Moni's brother at their home allow the young couple to be in proximity to each other without transgressing the accepted boundaries of pre-marital romance. When Moni is sure that Anthony has feelings for her, it is a matter of as much pride as it is of joy. And when Anthony proposes marriage, without giving it much thought, Moni accepts it as a ticket out of Calcutta – a city she believes is unsuitable for her aspirations and one she is desperate to flee. To her mind, Anthony has 'rescued' her from 'a land where the rain poured from the skies not to purify the earth, but to spite it.'
Her family is well-to-do, perhaps even better off than Anthony's, but Moni is guided by her singular desire to leave. A student of English literature, she has daydreamed about the English way of life to such an extent that everything else pales in comparison. Her parents accept her decision without much protest but they do not attempt to hide their grief about losing their only daughter. Her brother outrightly expresses his displeasure and teases and taunts her about the relationship.
As the couple prepare to depart for England, they promise to be back every year but in the ten years that they have been married, Moni has gone back only once. Alone.
Out of West, back to East
Life in England, a 'demi-paradise', starts quite normally at first, with Moni taking up an administration job at the local library, squashing every expectation that her family and teachers had from her, a bright student at one of Calcutta's most prestigious universities. Severing ties with her friends and almost abandoning her family would perhaps not seem so foolish if she were in a happy marriage. However, away from the tropical heat and the restless nights of Calcutta, Anthony pretty quickly realises that the chasm between the two – brought about by the differences in culture, history, and language – is impossible to bridge. Anthony fulfils both the coloniser's guilt and tendency – he feels compelled to 'rescue' her but when he realises that she's not a solitary entity, that she is inextricably bound to her own culture, she becomes a burden.
The 'intoxication' wears off and he feels indifferent towards his wife, and begins a series of affairs that culminate in him falling in love with Anna. English and blonde, she 'leads him back to the world to which he belonged.' Worse still, he forces the orbits of the two women to merge by bringing Anna into their home and acquainting their daughter with her. At first, Moni tolerates the strange form her marriage has taken but sinks into a 'tender sorrow' which is exacerbated with feelings of failure.
She had left Calcutta triumphantly, smug in her belief that she was too good for it, but when grief and loneliness become her only companions in a cold foreign country, she longs for the warmth of home and its familiar chaos. It is Calcutta, the city of her birth, the one she grew up in and despised, that might offer her a new lease of life.
Language is the most striking element in Memories of Rain. Written in the stream-of-consciousness narrative, Gupta's voice is precise and musical. The tension of marriage and the unhappiness that colours Moni's days make the reader struggle for breath. This, in turn, speaks plainly of the rootlessness of such marriages – those that ignore history, and dismiss its brutal impact on personal relationships. The unwillingness to assimilate, to respect a different way of life, to acknowledge the Other (often by the half that considers itself superior) exposes a hollow 'love'– which at times is nothing but an ill-conceived arrangement spurred by the convenience of the moment.
And yet, Moni's despair is buoyed by Tagore's moving compositions that she sings – despite the alienation and cruelty inflicted on her, beauty and hope have not altogether abandoned her.