‘Conversations with Aurangzeb’: An absurdist questioning of our histories

Charu Nivedita is not seeking to write a complete story, but merely to encounter a past that is all the more real precisely because it is fictional.

‘Conversations with Aurangzeb’: An absurdist questioning of our histories

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“All is fair in dreams and fiction,” reads a line from the first Prologue to Charu Nivedita’s Conversations with Aurangzeb. The book has six prologues, numbered from zero to five. An apt set-up for a text that will leave you wondering whether you dreamt up at least some of the absurdity that you encounter within it. The book, translated from the Tamil by Nandini Krishnan, does a wonderful job recreating the humour in the original. Bitingly funny and utterly unexpected, Nivedita and Krishnan (or Baahubilli as the author fondly calls her in the text) have, together, pushed the boundaries of what we know as history, fiction, and indeed, the art of conversation.

What’s the truth?

The book begins with Nivedita visiting an Aghori in order to talk to the spirits of various Mughal emperors as part of his research for another book. That this premise is the least incongruous part of the story should tell you enough. The various emperors Nivedita attempts to talk to are quickly elbowed out by an angry Aurangzeb, who wishes to correct contemporary history’s writing of his character. An ingenious device that allows Nivedita to challenge politically fraught histories.

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