Poverty of the Feminine

The subverted imagery and perspectivism within "Sheesha Ghat" and "Gifts" evokes through their subtlety the intention of the authors to illuminate the poverty of the feminine. It should be remembered that throughout history, whether upper class, or middle, untouchable or Brahmin, their exists always another division, being the inequality of the sexes. The young girl of Sheesha Ghat, isolated, and maginalized from even the poverty of the town, appears free, untainted by society. And through whimsical descriptions of her beauty, given to us through her physically lithe control of her boat, a unique and delicate charm pervades the story. Though Bibi as some kind of powerful grand dame breaks the mold of suppressed female, it is unclear how much of her mythical status is conferred to the girl, in other words there is no proof of her own agency. The story of Parya's birth has been romanticized, and strangely extended-this girl, born under water, like some ethereal nymph, has never touched land. We are encouraged to appreciate her through this lense, this transcendent gentle female until we cannot. Her suicide brutally subverts the idea of the sea as her playground, her freedom, and becomes her prison-like obstacle and barrier to confront. Her life cannot sustain her, and this act throws into question everything that was so comfortable to believe about her. How great was her suffering (we know she cannot even swim) for her to attempt to find freedom this way? Most importantly, she slips into the very water that appeared to give her freedom, romantically misunderstood even by the boy's final witness-she leaves the world quietly, without a fight, submissive, and then gone.
Within "Gifts" the subverted images also become profound symbols for repression of women. The caring for saris, preparation of dosais and halvas, represent tradition and identity for generations of women. There is an inherent goodness also represented here through their skill, and commitment. As the modern woman experiences their home, she longs for it, wishes to keep the nurturing with her, suggesting a universality of female experience. However, the dark underbelly of their oppression cannot be ignored, they exist solely to serve and live in physical and emotional prisons as well. The sea of Chandra's childhood dreams by the end rises to a "poisonous blue," the sari eclipses and overwhelms with representation of how these women have adapted (to be able to praise the religious devotion of an abusive husband, the pride of their children, moving as if switched on, etc.). Thus Lakshmi renders the halvas, both as a lovingly prepared gift but also as the symbol of repression, whose glistening ghee becomes the glint of sharply illuminated truth.