Eclectic and freewheeling are two words that best describe Indrajit Hazra’s latest, In Praise of Laziness and Other Essays. The author’s adjective of choice for his new collection, however, is themeless; because, as he explains in the introduction to the book, it is the result of his “job at the papers” that kept him “tethered to that kind of rubbish”.
It comprises 12 literary pieces, including a story and two recipes by his grandmothers. But, the most entertaining and insightful essay of the lot is the titular one, where the writer offers his “encomium to laziness”. Being lazy is considered a vice, particularly in today’s relentless, productivity-obsessed era. A meditation on laziness, however, is far from counterintuitive in the current post-pandemic burnout age, making Hazra’s essay timely, relevant and thought-provoking.
From invoking the Ramayana’s Kumbhakarna and sharing Mark Twain’s writing to establish that what Huckleberry Finn felt was “the beauty of the laze” to taking a leaf from Milan Kundera’s thoughts on slowness, Hazra effortlessly underlines how action is linked with “greatness” and laziness is labelled an “anti-social activity”. But, he argues, being lazy “is not the first refuge of the scoundrel.” Instead, “it seeks to take leave from both justice and injustice alike”.
Interestingly, much like his approach towards laziness, Hazra’s writing too is a departure from deterministic positions, for he’s interested in deliberation, though often at the cost of irritating the reader. This is reflected in the essay titled, Why I Am Not a Miso Soup. Recalling what had happened in Lille, France, he writes: “So there I was, Rimbaudelaired to my gills and quivering to my tits facing the query, ‘Are you a miso soup?’ which, to be fair, came with the pretext (or is it context?) that I had a habit of killing off/maiming the female characters in my novels.”
Seemingly written in his defense, this essay, which informs the reader why the author is not a misogynist, begins with notes on casual drinking, and is peppered with random information and thoughts, making it an unappetising read. Though cocksure men rarely pay heed, the least Hazra could have done is not defend himself.
Whatever he may or may not be, Hazra’s writing is certainly not lazy. It’s courageous to pull off a collection like this, touching an array of sensitive issues with humour and ease. Becoming Adult: Mr Finn and Dashorothi-Babu is the principal example. Here, the author revisits the death of “his first-ever friend” Rana, a slow-learner compared to his peers, and juxtaposes it with fictional characters Huck and Dashorothi. By using contemporary labels like “special” used mostly for the differently-abled, Hazra elevates the standard of literary meditation on grief and loss. There’s another essay on death—“public deaths” to be precise: Everybody Loves a Good Mourning. In all its seriousness, one can’t help but laugh at this sentence: “The death of a person is serious business”.
Then, in A Man of the Great Indoors, Hazra deliberates on nation-building. “I could have easily titled this essay ‘an investigation into nationalism’,” he writes. But he didn’t, because that would be “hoodwinking the reader”. And rightly so, because whatever has been written on this undiscussed and undisclosed emergency worldwide—hypernationalism—is limiting and terribly unexciting to read. Offering a consideration that nation is a Dantean circle, Hazra invokes Dunbar’s Number—“the number of people with whom one can maintain stable social relationships”—to underline the fact that in a Benedictine sense, the “closest model to the nation” is the social-networking giant Meta (formerly Facebook). This Man’s Place Is Not in the Kitchen is another case in point. Writing why “kitchen, for me, remains a sinkhole”, he once again champions defamiliarising the familiar and vice versa. This smart collection, however, will be appreciated in parts like all novel attempts.
In Praise of Laziness and Other Essays
By: Indrajit Hazra
Publisher: Yoda Press x
Simon &Schuster
Pages: 155
Price: Rs 399