Jaishree Misra’s first non-fiction work, A House for Mr Misra is a charming story of Jaishree and her husband’s adventures in house building in Thiruvananthapuram. Clearing bureaucratic hurdles, dealing with recalcitrant builders with a fondness for bags of cement, neighbours wielding machetes, venomous snakes and the boom of the restless, changeful sea, Jaishree and Mr Misra finally build their dream home. Over email the London-based author talks of the book, the open invitation to authors struggling with writer’s block and Bengaluru. Excerpts.
Could you comment on the title? Is it a take-off on Mr Biswas?
I have no pretensions of this being anything like Naipaul's work! I only chose the title to indicate that the contents of the book are light and tongue-in-cheek and not meant to be taken too seriously.
What prompted you to offer the house to struggling writers? Have you had any queries?
When I had to leave Trivandrum, I started to think about how it might be possible to use the place for writers who need 'a room of one's own'. I've had a couple of expressions of interest but no one has actually sent in a proper application. Now I'm actually considering selling it as it is difficult to handle long-distance and I wouldn't wish to burden my octogenarian mother with its upkeep. What are the chances some writers' foundation will come along?
What are the pros and cons of writing fiction vis-a-vis non-fiction? Which do you enjoy more?
The freedom offered by fiction is a truly wondrous thing. It is almost like playing God, creating characters and then taking them wherever you want. That experience can result in some moments of epiphany. Non-fiction lacks that but, when you've put a good sentence together or conveyed some idea in an unusual or clever manner, it is not totally lacking in thrills.
Do you prefer a nomadic existence or would you rather put down roots?
Oh I long for roots! Having said that, when I'm in England, and the days become short and dark, I long to fly away to India and its sunshine. Mostly, I consider myself fortunate to have that choice.
Could you comment on the bright and lovely cover? The house in the cover, is it how the house for Mr Misra looks?
The artist who came up with the cover image had never seen the old house or even the one it became. So it was a pretty amazing likeness to the old fisherman's cottage we bought, with sagging yellow walls and blue window frames. They did bring the sea in closer than it really is. On the cover, it does look like a house teetering on the brink of the ocean, ready to fall in. The unfortunate thing is that there actually are houses like that, on what's called 'poramboke' land which is beyond the high tide line. Sometimes that is the only space the fishermen can afford. Every year, you see tragic images of houses swept into the raging monsoonal sea.
You were in Bengaluru in your teens…
The Bangalore of my teens was a great place to come of age; that bit gentler and slower moving than Delhi was at the time. All that has changed now, alas! Having said that, I do feel that Bangalore hasn't lost its essence of gentility and urbanity. You may think I'm flattering but Bangaloreans would be shocked at the levels of aggression you come up against in other cities.
