Alka Saraogi's novel explores the complexities of identity and human relationships against the backdrop of the Bengal Partition, revealing the resilience of its characters.
New Delhi, India Jul 11, 2026 ALN: One of the characters in Alka Saraogi’s Hindi novel Kulbhushan ka Naam Darj Keejiye – translated into by John Vater as Register Me As Kulbhushan – is Malli. Malli is born to the Hindu Amala, whose affair with her Muslim neighbor Ali ends in tatters, leaving her pregnant. The tumultuous backdrop of her conception and birth reflects the realities faced by many during the Partition of India, a time when communal tensions were at their peak. However, the washerman Shyama, dark-skinned and pockmarked, marries Amala and dotes on her as well as the baby she bears. Malli – her name a portmanteau of Amala and Ali – is his daughter, even if he did not father her. This narrative sets the stage for a deeper exploration of identity, belonging, and the complexities that arise from the intersections of different cultures and religions.
The concept of identity is a central theme in the novel. It prompts readers to ponder the essence of selfhood: who are we, and what defines us? Malli may be half-Muslim, half-Hindu by blood, but the man she knows and loves in her early years as her father is Hindu. Or is he? Because Shyama, while brought up by a lower caste dhobi and his wife, was not really their child: he was given to them as a baby (and already circumcised: therefore Muslim?) by a kanfata yogi. This intricate web of relationships and identities raises questions about the nature of family and the roles that societal expectations play in shaping personal narratives. When tragedy strikes, Malli is brought up by a man with an even more complex relationship with names and identities: Kulbhushan. Kulbhushan Jain, aka Gopal Chandra Das, embodies the struggle of many individuals during this tumultuous period in history.
A Marwari, his family originally from Rajasthan but settled in the East Bengal town of Kushtia, Kulbhushan is the youngest of his siblings. The novel opens in the Kolkata of the relatively recent past, where Kulbhushan, in conversation with a journalist, reflects on an eventful life marked by upheaval and change. The narrative weaves back and forth across the decades, traversing borders with Bangladesh and exploring the lives of Kulbhushan and his dearest friend, the dhobi Shyama. This duality in storytelling allows readers to witness the impact of historical events on personal lives, emphasizing the interconnectedness of individual experiences and broader societal transformations.
In 1946, Kulbhushan accompanies his mother to Kolkata, where his siblings have already settled. His father stubbornly refuses to leave Kushtia, creating a sense of dislocation for Kulbhushan. Arriving in Kolkata, he finds himself having to rely upon his siblings and their families to navigate the complexities of life in a new city. However, this relationship is anything but predictable; Kulbhushan (or Bhushan Chacha, as he is affectionately called by his nephews and nieces) becomes the person his family turns to when there are chores nobody else is willing to take on. Yet, he is also viewed with suspicion when things go missing, as he has a history of petty theft. This duality in his character reflects the moral ambiguities that many individuals faced during this period of instability.
Furthermore, Kulbhushan leads a double life: he is married to a Bengali woman named Reema and lives in a Bengali neighborhood where he calls himself Gopal Chandra Das. This name change signifies his attempt to assimilate into a new culture while simultaneously grappling with his own identity. The complexities of Kulbhushan's life mirror the larger societal conflicts of the time, as individuals navigated their personal identities against the backdrop of communal tensions and political upheaval.
Back in Kushtia, the story unfolds around Shyama, whose one-sided love for Amala leads him to marry her to “protect her honor” and give her baby a father. The rising tensions in Kushtia during 1964, particularly following the theft of the prophet’s hair from Kashmir’s Hazratbal, serve as a catalyst for Shyama’s transformation from a dhobi to a rickshaw-puller. As he witnesses the disintegration of his world, Shyama decides to take action, reflecting the resilience of individuals in the face of adversity.
Critical political events – the Partition, the bloodshed of 1964, the Bangladesh liberation movement – form a vital part of Saraogi’s novel, but they are always seen through the lens of their effect on human lives and relationships. The trauma of families torn apart, the grief of witnessing a loved one killed, and the frantic pursuit of safety and belonging are vividly portrayed. Kulbhushan’s journey takes him all the way to the forests of Dandakaranya in search of a friend who might have been sent there as part of India’s efforts to resettle refugees from East Bengal. The fear, pain, anger, and sense of betrayal are palpable throughout these chapters, showcasing the emotional toll of historical events on individuals.
Yet, amid the chaos, moments of humanity shine through. The orphan who finds a loving home, the ailing old Hindu man cared for by a Muslim, and acts of kindness amidst the violence all serve to highlight the resilience of the human spirit. These moments remind readers that even in the darkest times, compassion and empathy can prevail, offering a glimmer of hope in a world fraught with division.
Register Me As Kulbhushan, given the traumatic times its characters live through, risks slipping into melodrama. However, Saraogi’s sensitivity and her ability to tread the middle ground between emotions, thoughts, and personalities – her nuanced, balanced narrative – elevates this novel to extraordinary heights. The careful characterization of the individuals inhabiting these pages, particularly Kulbhushan, exemplifies this balance. The narrative oscillates between past and present, anger and forgiveness, self-preservation and self-sacrifice, remembrance and the desire to forget.
Early in the book, readers are introduced to a concept that helps keep Kulbhushan – and Shyama, who shares the secret – sane: the “button of forgetting.” Shyama explains to Kulbhushan: “…The Creator has installed this one special button in our bodies! All you have to do is press it with your thumb, then poof! You will completely forget how other people snub their noses at you!…” This metaphorical button, “pressed” during traumatic times, embodies the resilience that permeates much of the book. It serves as a reminder of the human capacity to adapt and survive, even when faced with overwhelming challenges.
Register Me as Kulbhushan is a searing, memorable work that stands as an important contribution to literature on Partition. Most novels about this historical event tend to focus on the western frontier of India; while there are accounts of the Partition in Bengal, such as Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni’s Independence and Bhaswati Ghosh’s Victory Colony 1950, they remain relatively few and far between. John Vater’s translation of Saraogi’s book helps to fill this literary gap, bringing to light the experiences of those who navigated the complexities of identity and belonging during this tumultuous period.
However, it is worth noting that the translation is marred by shoddy proofreading, with many errors dotting the pages of this novel. If the care taken in translating the book had been equaled by the attention given to proofreading, it could have been a faultless work. Nevertheless, the essence of the narrative shines through, offering readers a poignant exploration of resilience and the human experience during one of history's most challenging epochs.
Register Me As Kulbhushan, Alka Saraogi, translated from the Hindi by John Vater, Penguin Random House India.
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