A genre of literature, pastoral represents a shepherd’s lifestyle- an idealised living, herding livestock in the open areas. This genre is also known as bucolic. The Eclogues, also known as the Bucolics, by the Latin poet Virgil, were modelled after the Greek bucolic poetry of Theocritus.

Vinod Kumar Shukla’s ‘Deewar Me Ek Khidki Rehti Thi’ is reminiscent of the idyllic rural life bordering on the genre of pastoral, although the protagonist, Raghuvar Das, isn’t a shepherd but a teacher in a local high school. Born to parents having a farming background, Raghuvar Das stays away from his village home in a small rented room. Raghuvar has recently been married. His wife is staying in his village home, but is soon going to come to stay with Raghuvar. The introductory first chapter takes the readers on a journey that’s about to begin- Raghuvar’s married life with Sonsi and his school tours from the bus-stand on an elephant with its mahout, Sadhu.

To an urban reader like me, the book threw light on the darker crevices of my mind where the childhood memory of a pastoral life was long buried. There is no greater joy than to travel through the past, being in the present. To top that, the past again connected with the present when I visited my maternal abode once again after 23 long years! I could see the characters in flesh and blood. Alive and talking. I saw the windows differently now, and why not? I even clicked the picture of my favourite window by the road, which remained the centre of major activity.

The window in Raghuvar Prasad’s room opens to a beautiful landscape of a river flowing. There is something magical about the rural setting. The description at once was C.S Lewis’s “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’ where the cupboard opened to a different land. Similarly, the window in Raghuvar’s room was a portal to a fictional realm. It even had overtones of magic realism. Raghuvar and Sonsi’s love blossoms. The writer’s penmanship is remarkable in depicting the love that’s growing each day. The lyrical prose is accentuated by the beautiful description of nature- lotus, moonlit nights, glow in the dark fireflies and the flying caricatures from the rangoli. The inside world is as alive as the outside. Raghuvar’s parents, his younger brother, neighbours, the old woman by the river, the boy in the tree and a colleague from high school are interconnected in Raghuvar and Sonsi’s marital life. It’s a small world yet a fuller one. The visits of Raghuvar’s parents, all accommodating themselves in small rooms; midnight or early morning escapades outside the window are idyllic snippets that connect to form a fuller experience. There is want, pain, tiredness, but also gratitude, echoing the lost simplicity of family life in Shanbhag’s ‘Ghachar Ghochar’.

Besides performing family duties as an elder son, Raghuvar Das’s connection outside the house is solid as well. Human connection is necessary as well as inescapable. This is felt between Raghuvar Das and Sadhu. Their connection deepens with the elephant rides, and soon Sadhu becomes a part of the family as much as the neighbours. Sonsi, too, like Raghuvar, is a dutiful wife and daughter-in-law. You won’t find an extraordinary plot, but a life in flow. It isn’t episodic but a daily journaling of the humdrum. This is the slow life. Raghuvar divides his time between school and with Sonsi by the river outside the window.

The novel is written in a style that’s as simple as the life presented. The questions confounding Raghuvar with the domesticity of animals are as curious as any child posing it. The writer’s use of past and present tense at the same time and small sentences at times quickens the pace. What grabbed my attention was also writing in possibilities! If A existed, then B would have happened. The writing does make you feel like reading a newspaper, written in reported speech. Overall, read the Sahitya Akademi-winning novel for its sheer simplicity and mundane happenings detailed extraordinarily. The novella of 165 pages has my taste buds hankering for more, especially the escapades of Raghuvar and Sonsi from the window or them just watching the sunset with an elephant’s trunk as a canvas.

Reading the novel while coming close to ‘Deehat ka Bharat’ (rural India), the window in the novel is a symbol of endless possibilities, the multitudinous joy that one can find even amid the hardships and the multiple perspectives of how one sees life and chooses to live. I was in a rural wedding, the shy bride in Ghooghat reminded me of Sonsi. While taking a tour of the bangle store, the bangles that Raghuvar promised Sonsi emerged. Serving rice with saag, the staple in rural homes, and washing plates near the handpump are evocative of every moment spent in an idyllic setting. A time spent in the lap of nature, minus the gadgets, pollution, concrete jungles and the rush, is an escape