Book Title: White Elephant: A Novel
Author: Jeyamohan
Translator: Priyamvada Ramkumar
Publisher: Harper Perennial India
Number of Pages: 344
ISBN: 9373076337
Date Published: Aug. 17, 2026
Book Excerpt
Pages 12-14
The stunning sea. It was what Aiden loved the most in all of Madraspatnam. The pristine blue. Like throws of silk being unfurled for display on the long, uninterrupted shoreline, the surf spread over the sands now and again. In the dazzling blue waters, the catamarans of the Sembadava fisherfolk, their puffed white sails aflutter, travelled like one-winged birds. The ships anchored at the port on the horizon seemed like miniature black hillocks. Aiden had made sure that his office overlooked the sea. Whenever he glanced up from the papers that abounded with legal dilemmas, procedural hurdles, protocols, and formalities, the blue expanse abroad his window would whisk him away to the skies, or so he imagined.
What a sea! As if composed of blue light. The waters that he had seen in England were different. That sea had conjured up the vision of a strange, thick, murky liquid that had hardened into a deep blue swathe of marble. It was only when he entered the seas off the coast of Morocco that he first laid eyes on tropical waters. The skies were overcast when Aiden had set sail from the English port of Southampton.
The deafening rumble of the ship’s machinery as it came to life had resounded like thunder. As the vessel got under way, the passengers lined its decks and gazed at the shore. With its rising chimneys and high, cone-shaped tile roofs, the city of Southampton floated farther and farther away. The vanishing city resembled a great ship submerging in the waters of the firmament. The vessels anchored nearby bobbed restlessly in the sea.
Once the land disappeared from sight, the passengers retired to their respective berths. They pulled the woollen blankets over themselves and tried to catch some sleep. Although each of their faces wore a different expression, it seemed to Aiden that the thoughts running behind them were much the same. Will I see this land again? That was the one-line refrain. What else could they be thinking about? Most of them stayed in their beds all through the days and the nights, with visits to the mess hall being the only exception. Despite the many hundreds of passengers on board, the mess functioned peacefully. There arose the clanking of spoons against dishes, the rustle of clothes, the thudding and scraping of shoes on the wooden floor, and, on rare occasions, a hushed exchange of words.
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A man from Lancashire was Aiden’s roommate. However, he, too, proved to be a recluse who was lost in himself. Aiden scarcely exchanged a word or two with him in the first ten days. Within a fortnight their bodies had acclimated to the lethargy. It became possible to lie in bed for as many as twenty hours a day. The days and nights that wore on in between sleep and wakefulness were strung together by the ship’s mechanical drone like a thread that strings a cluster of pearls.
The mess was agog with talk of arriving at Casablanca the following day. Aiden didn’t make much of it. As rain rocked the ship and lashed at it, droplets of water seeped in through the gaps around the windowpanes and dripped on the bed, scattering over the woollen blankets like shards of glass. Aiden settled in beneath the covers, closed his eyes, and pictured the green meadows back home. Waking to the ship’s horn the following morning, Aiden threw on his overcoat, stooped under the short door frame, and stepped out of his quarters. For a second, he felt as though molten light was pouring into his eyes.
He stood there for a while, shielding his eyes with his hands; after a time, he slowly removed his hands, forcing his eyes to adjust bit by bit, until he could see, stretched out in front of him, a clear blue sky and a great expanse of light that was the effervescent sea. A place that had never known such a thing as darkness, he thought to himself. A flock of white birds went past, as if sliding across the sky. “A blue sea, blue sea,” Aiden chanted. “To mingle with the Universe, and feel what I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.” A verse rose to his lips. What poem was it?
Excerpted with permission from “White Elephant”, by Jeyamohan and Priyamvada Ramkumar, Harper Perennial India.
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