One of the depressing facts that Aravind Adiga’s Selection Day brings up is that some careers, and by an unfortunate extension even lives, are decided at the age of 14 or even less. At 14, I had no idea what life would be at 15 and the brothers Kumar (Manju and Radha) in this book know that they should be the world’s best batsman and the second best, world here translates to Mumbai Cricket, since that is the extent of their career and this book.
Many an Indian student who faced the aspirations and ambitions of the parents thrust upon him would nod his head in ironic approval with the kind of rigorous routine thrust upon the children. The setting here is Cricket, and batting in particular, where the brothers are fighting for 1 or 2 out of the 7 batting spots places the odds insurmountably high, yet Adiga finds humor in the darkest of the places in creating the grim realities of the life of youngsters who have no chance but to aspire, survive and work hard against the odds. Indeed it is surprising how hilarious Selection Day is, as I found myself laughing out loud at the kind of farcical methods of preparation and the justification behind them that Mohan Kumar, the father, sets out for his kids which also include posing with a bat in hand as a 4 year old, a la Sachin Tendulkar.
Aravind Adiga’s research is immaculate, not in the sense that he throws up numbers and anecdotes about Cricket Matches in the way most books about Cricket tend to do, but in the way a cricketer’s journey is traversed right from the familial beginnings, to the rising through the ranks under an able and determined coach, only to reach a destination that doesn’t seem as coveted to the cricketer as much it was for the men around him.
The father Mohan Kumar is an interesting character, my favorite in the book, as he admonishes his children about the vices, girls and shaving, checks on them every night, working on their techniques, temperament and anything that he feels will help making his sons the best cricketers of the world. For all his efforts, Mohan Kumar, is still hated by anyone he ever comes across, including his own kids who swear to kill him when they come of age, yet he never undersells them and steadfastly negotiates their worth, for they are the last straws he is clutching at, their careers the only thing he has in his life as a slum dwelling chutney salesman. The character is a delightfully devastating portrayal of the ultimate tragicomic.
As much as the father borders on being tyrannical, there are other players interested in the brothers, like the coach Tommy Sir, whose sole aim in life to unearth the next Tendulkar from Mumbai Cricket, and Anand Mehta, an NRI who wants to do a few good things and chooses to invest in the the great nastiness that is Cricket, and a rival cricketer Javed, the love interest of Manju the younger brother, thrown in to complete the circle of obstacles. Above them all, Manju has his own brother Radha to overcome who tries to guilt-trip him into believing that Manju has usurped his place in the team. All of these men overwhelm Manju, who does not seem to be quite adequate with dealing with them, his timid nature and his unease with his own homosexuality and the distance from his mother, make him a loner with no place to go and that shows in the kind of choices he makes in the days leading to the Selection Day.
The book starts three years before the Selection Day, and we all know it that it is going to be a doomed affair even before reading any of the events unfold, only because of our knowledge that the Kumars (all three of them) of the world don’t have a chance of surviving the ordeal and coming out in triumph. There is no mention anywhere if the brothers love playing the game, because that is never considered even an option, much like students taking up engineering or medicine, often clueless as to what they mean. In this particular similarity it resonates with a lot more teenagers around the country. In that sense this is an important book for the average Indian Parent who needs a lesson or two.
Strongly Recommended.