OverCoat

in #society7 years ago

OVERCOAT

On a January evening, a nobby young man crossed the Davis Road and
reached at Mall Road then he turned towards Chairing Cross and started walking
on footpath in jovial manner. This young man appeared enough fashionable by his
make. Glittering hair, trimmed moustaches as made with Stibnite, wearing an
overcoat of drab colour. There was an ajar red rose, attached in his button hole, a
green felt hat on head in particular crooked style, a white scarf made of silk around
his neck. His one hand was inside the pocket of coat and in other, there was a
willow stick which he twirled infrequently in amusement.
It was a Saturday evening, heavywinters. Cold and violent air felt like a jet
metal on bodies but it seemed that even such a coldness had no effect on the young
man. People were walking fast to keep themselves warm but he was not in need to
do so as walking in such icy wintertime was a delightful activity for him.
The gaiety appearance from his tenor attracted Tonga drivers so much that
they made their horses gallop towards him but he inhibited them with stick in hand.
An empty taxi stopped too but he refused it too by saying, “Thank You”.
As he moved towards the liveliest part of the Mall, his jovialityamplified
gradually. He whistled an English musical symphony and while doing so, his feet
raised in dancing manners. Once when nobody was around him, he, all of a
sudden, imitated to bowl with great zeal as a cricket match was going on.
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On way, road towards Lawrence Garden was there but at this time of
evening, when mistiness and heavy fog both were adding more in gloom of garden,
he didn‟t go for the garden and continued straight ahead towards Chairing Cross.
After reaching near the statue of Queen Victoria, his activities gained
solidity. He took out his hankie which was tucked in left sleeve of coat instead of
pocket dabbed on face quiet slowly. It was just because to clean the dust on face, if
some. In a nearby grassy piece, English Children were playing with a big ball. He
made himself busy in watching their game as it was fascinating him. For the time
being, children remained busy without taking a note of his interest but when he
continued his observance consistently, they gradually started to feel shy. Suddenly
handling the ball, laughing and running behind each other, they moved far away,
suddenly, from that piece of grass.
The youngman saw an empty cement bench and he sat on it. At that time,
with dark heaps of evening, coldness was increasing too. This winter‟s intensity
was not unpleasant but preachedsexuality too. The sensual class of the city
becomes jolly too and feels more comfort in such wintertime. The reclusive, even,
are enticed by this heavy chilliness. They think to join any aggregation and
assemblage by leaving their hidings to get the adjacency of the bodies. This desire
for acquisitioning for felicity yanked them on Mall and they were enjoying in
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restaurants, coffee houses, casinos, cinemas and on other entertaining spots as per
their capacity.
Although there was a huge rush of motors, tongas and bicycles on Mall
Road but pedestrians were also infest on pavement. Apart from this, the buying and
selling business in shops on both sides of road was at acme. Those ill-fated who
could not afford to enter any entertainment spot or buy anything, they were
comforting their heart and eyes by watching the magnificent lights of these shops
and spots.
The young man was observing every individual, passing from the front side
of him, with great interest and what he observed most was their outfits not the
looks. These individuals were of different types and visages. The rich traders, govt.
officials, leaders, artists, students of various colleges, nurses, news reporters and
clerks of offices and most of them were putting on overcoats… Every type of
overcoat, the costly overcoat from Astarkhan and nut-brown old military coat
which were bought from secondhand cloth shops. The overcoat of young man,
although, was old but its cloth was of up-quality and well stitched by any expert
tailor. Its appearance showed that it was handled with great upkeep. The lapel was
stiffed and sleeves were well creased, there was not a single wrinkle. The big,
shiny buttons were made ofhorns. The young man appeared much happy in it.
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A boy selling Paan and cigarettes in a tray, held with a circular strip round
his neck, passed from the front. The young man called him.
“Paan Seller!”
“Yes Sir”
“Do you have change for a ten rupee note?”
“No Sir but I will bring it for you. What do you want to take?”
“And what if you run away and don‟t come back?”
“Gosh! I am not a thief. If you do not believe me then you may come with me.”
“No. It‟s ok. I will manage it by myself. Here it is one anna. Take it and give me a
cigarette of Gold Flake. And be off.”
After the dismissal of boy, he smoked the cigarette and relished every puff. He
seemed to be in much ecstasy as smoke of Gold Flake had sent him into a world of
intoxication. A little white cat, shivering with cold mewed near his feet. He called
the pitiable creature with affection and it leapt up on the bench. He rubbed his
hands against its fur and said,
“Poor little soul.”
He raised himself from bench, crossed the road and turned towards the
cinema where lights were flashing. The show was started and there was no hustle
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and bustle in cinema‟s yard. Only few people were there, analyzing the posters of
upcoming releases. These posters and pictures were affixed various small and big
boards. Only choosiest scenes of the story were there upon that stuff.
Three young Anglo-Indian girls were also observing the pictures with
excessive absorption. With a particular dignity of unconcernedness and
maintaining the respect for the fair sex, he kept on to see the film posters with
those girls but at an appropriate distance. The girls were talking mirthfully and also
giving opinions on movies. The one beautiful and bold among them, suddenly
guffawed and then this jolly trinity went out. The young man did not take any
effect of all this and after a while he found himself out the cinema‟s building.By
now it was past seven and he was marooning on the pavement of Mall again. An
orchestra was being played in a restaurant. The outside gathering was more than
insiders. Most of them were motors‟ drivers, Tonga riders, fruit sellers who were
standing with empty bins after selling the fruits, some pedestrians who stopped
only to have amusement, some laborers and beggars too. They were seemed to be
more epicure of music than the insiders because they were not manhandling and
listening quietly the composition although the symphony and the instrumentals
were alien. The young man stopped for a while and then progressed in advance.
A few moments later, he found an English music shop there and he entered
unhesitatingly. English musical instruments were placed in shelves everywhere. On
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a long table, two paged books of Western music were arranged. These were new
modernized songs. Title pages of the books were very attractive and colorful but
the symphonies were cheap and shoddy. He just threw a glance upon them and
diverted his attention towards instruments. He gazed critically on a Spanish Guitar,
hanging with a wall and read the price tag, attached with it. A little forward,
German piano was placed. He raised the cover of piano up, played some keys and
shut it again. A sale representative came towards him.
“Good Evening Sir! How may I help you?”
“No! Thank you. Just hand me over an up-to-date list of gramophones.”
He took the list and put it in pocket of overcoat, came out of the shop and started to
walk again. His next destination was a book stall of smaller proportion. He turned
pages of fresh magazines and took greater care in placing it on right place after
observation. Moving onward, a carpet shop gained his attention. The proprietor,
wearing a long robe and turban on head, welcomed him warmly.
“I just want to see this Persian carpet. Don‟t bother to take it down. I‟ll check it
right there. How much does it cost?”
“Only 1432 rupees.”
The young man constringed his eye-brows in such manner as he wanted to say,
“It‟s too much.”
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The shopkeeper understood the gesture and said, “You just select the article. We
will take rates as lower as we can.”
“Gracious! Right now I am here only to have a look.”
“Our pleasure sir. Anytime.”
After two or three minutes, he left the shop. The rose in button hole was
little out. He adjusted it having a nugatory and strange smile on face and started to
maroon again. Now he was crossing the High court. Even after a long walk, there
was no dissimilarity in his cheerfulapproach, no jadedness, no drabness. Now the
herds of people were becoming lesser in numbering and now distance was going
on to be enlarged. He tried to circulate the willow stick on one finger but failed and
it fell down on ground. He bend down to pick up the stick, saying, “O Sorry.”
He had seen many faces up till now in his wandering but none of them
fascinated him. In fact, either there was no charisma in them or he was so selfindulged
that he didn‟t pay heed to anyone but an interesting couple, having the
beauty like characters in fictions, abruptly won his admiration. They made him
extremely yearned to listen their talk and to see their faces, too, if possible. Now
the trio reached near the post office square. The boy and girl stopped for a while
and after crossing the road, they started to walk on McLeod Road. The young man
kept standing on Mallas he didn‟t want to cast doubt on himself. When the couple
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was gone 100 yards forward, he flashed to follow them. Hardlyhewasin the middle
of the road when a van, filled with bricks, came like a blizzard, trampling him,
went towards the McLeod Road.The driver slowed down for a moment when he
heard the shriek of the young man. He was sure that someone had become victim
of satanic wheels. He took the advantage of night and ran away with van. Two or
three wayfarer who were witnessing this accident noised, “Note the number” but
the van was gone. Meanwhile many other people gathered there. A traffic inspector
who was going on a bike, stopped there. Both legs were completely quashed in
accident. Too much blood was flowed and he was gasping. A car was stopped and
he was sent to main hospital. A bit of life was in his body when he reached
hospital.
In Emergency ward of the hospital, Assistant Surgeon Mr. Khan and two
young nurses Miss Shehnaz and Miss Gull were on duty. When he was being
carried on a stretcher towards operation room, nurses saw him. His hazel coloured
overcoat was still over his body and white silk scarf was around his neck. His
clothes were daubed with blood and someone had put his green felt hat on his chest
out of sympathy so that it might not be stolen.Shehnaz said to Gull,
“Appearance narrates his belonging to a good family.”
Gull spoke in lower voice,
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“The unfortunate was out to celebrate the Saturday evening with meritorious
measures.”
“Has the driver been caught?”
“No! He ran away.”
“How disgusting!”
In operation room, assistant surgeon and nurses were having a surgical mask
which had covered their facial part beneath eyes. They were busy in taking care of
him. He was laid down on the marble table. The fragrance of oil, massaged on hair,
was in air however a little bit. His hairdo was still at its place although his both
legs were broken in accident. Now it was turn to unclothe him. First, the white silk
scarf, was taken off from his neck. Suddenly Miss Shehnaz and Miss Gull looked
at each other at once and what else they could do? Faces which are the index of
hearty accounts, were hidden under the surgical mask and tongues were silent.
Under the scarf, there was no necktie and collar and even the shirt as well. When
overcoat was taken off, only a timeworn woolen sweater was found with big holes
in it. From these holes a moth eaten and untidy undervest was visible. The young
man covered the neck with silk scarf by using such a skill that his bosom was
hidden. His body was covered with filth. Now it was turn of shoes and socks. The
both Sisterslooked towards each other once again. Shoes were, although old, but
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shiny but the socks were of different colours and thread bared. His filthy heels
were quiet visible. Undoubtly he was no more. His body was laying lifelessly on
the table. His face was now bended towards the wall as along with his body, the
soul too, was feeling shameful from his fellow beings. It appeared like he was
hesitating to have an eye-contact with others. The other things that were picked up
from his pocket were,
A small black comb, a handkerchief, six and half anas, one half-smoked cigarette,
a small diary in which names and addresses were mentioned, a monthly catalogue
of new arrivals of gramophones and some leaflets which were handed over to him
during his course of walking. Alas! His wallow stick was not in list as it was lost in
accident.
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Critical analysis
The story “Overcoat” was originally composed by Ghulam Abbas (1909-
1989),a famousUrdu writer of sub-continent, exhibits his craft in the genre of short
stories in a praiseworthy manner. Abbas was born in British Punjab, a part of subcontinent
and colony of the Great Britain at that time as the name indicates. His
short stories observe the details of actual life and are portrayal of socio-realism.
Being a member of an oppressed society, Abbas knows the anguishes of his people
and on-goings changes due to rule of United Kingdom. The literature produced in
the countries that were once colonized reflects the various effects of colonization
and a term “Empire Writes Back” is used for it. Colonialism leaves its deep and
grave signs on the culture of the colonized nation and this has been prettily
presented by Abbas. The focused subjects of postcolonial literature were,

  1. Mimicry 2) Identity Crises
  2. Hybridity 4) Diaspora
    And many more.
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    These postcolonial effects can be traced in the Overcoatbut before moving ahead,
    it is obligatory to define Post colonialism. Bill Ashcroft in “The Empire Writes
    Back” states that,
    “Post-colonial covers all the culture affected by the imperial process from the
    moment of colonization to the present day.”
    English were in want to produce a class of individuals who should take on
    the English ethics, attitudes and opinions just like in Fanon‟s “Black Skin, White
    Mask”. Fanon portrays French educated colonials as Mimic Men. They figure out
    how to act English yet don't look English nor are they acknowledged all things
    considered as Bhabha puts it“to be Anglicized is emphatically not to be
    English.”Bhabhalabels Mimicry“as one of the most effective strategies of colonial
    power and knowledge.”He starts his dissertation “Of Mimicry and Man: The
    Ambivalence of Colonial Discourse”by quoting the notions, stated beneath.
    “Mimicry reveals something in so far as it is distinct from what might be
    called an itself that is behind. The effect of mimicry is camouflage. . . . It is not a
    question of harmonizing with the background, but against a mottled background,
    of becoming mottled- exactly like the technique of camouflage practiced in human
    warfare.” (Jacques Lacan, "The Line and Light," Of the Gaze)
    And he goes on to quote.
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    “It is out of season to question at this time of day, the original policy of
    conferring on every colony of the British Empire a mimic representation of the
    British Constitution. But if the creatures o endowed has sometimes forgotten its
    real insignificance and under the fancied importance of speakers and maces, and
    all the paraphernalia and ceremonies of the imperial legislature, has dared to defy
    the mother country, she has to thank herselffor the folly of conferring such
    privileges on a condition of society that has no earthly claim to so exalted a
    position. A fundamental principle appears to have been forgotten or overlookedin
    our system of colonial policy-that of colonial dependence. To give to a colony the
    forms of independence is a mockery; she would not be a colony for a single hour if
    she could maintain an independent station.” (Sir Edward Gust)
    The particular appearance of the protagonist showed the „Mimic Men‟
    phenomena in the story. He is dressed in very fashionable style. He apparently
    dressed as „BabuSaheb‟, a term used for the person of English taste. His wearing of
    scarf and overcoat, with crooked hat is nothing but mimicry of English men. Abbas
    made it more clear through the narratives of protagonist and his soliloquies on
    various occasions highlights his good taste for English talks and style. It shows the
    inferior bent of mind that he is using the speech of “Other” only to imitate them
    and all his such narratives and soliloquies appeared counterfeiting. When a taxi
    driver rushed towards him, he just said “Thank You”. The mimicry of narratives
    Khan14
    continued when a cat, shivering with cold comes near him and he patted it,
    sympathizing by saying “Poor Little Soul”. Also when once his stick fell down on
    ground, he picked it up saying “O Sorry” to himself. Abbas intentionally includes
    these type of soliloquies to show the impacts of British Raj or of colonization over
    the people the colony. Youth is especially attracted towards the life style of
    Colonizers as we have observed in Asghar of Twilight InDehliand Nowey of
    Things Fall Apart. Same is the case with the young man in the story. The entrance
    of the youth in an English music shop is a fine instance of his taste for English
    music. Although he didn‟t buy anything but his fingers played with a piano. Here
    piano is again a symbol of Anglicised taste.
    As it is said earlier that traces of postcolonial can still be observed out.
    Meeting and blending of totally distinctive societies leads towards identity crises.
    The story is all about identity, crises of one‟s own identity like the heroes of Raja
    Rao and R.K Narayan. The title of the story is highly symbolic and it conveys the
    sense of hiding one‟s own self in the manners of “Others”, the colonizers.The
    overcoat is not just a piece of fabric, put on to get comfort from chilly wind. It is,
    in fact, the given identity to a Marginby the Centre. Abbas is very cautious about
    the looks of it. The stylish overcoat that young man is wearing, is well- stuffed and
    appearance of it is eye-catching. The writer strikes a hammer on the on-going
    adaption of Western culture and forgetting one‟s own identity.
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    “The lapel was stiffed and sleeves were well creased, there was not a single
    wrinkle. The big, shiny buttons were made of horns. The young man appeared
    much happy in it.”
    If we analyse this particular glee of the young man, by keeping the context of
    Identityin our mind, in terms of Gramsci‟s distinction of Society, the idea by Abbas
    becomes more vibrant. Gramsci distinguishes between „Civil Society‟ and
    „Political Society‟. Civil society is that where influence of ideas work through
    consent and on the other hand, Political society is that where ideas work through
    direct domination. Gramsci argues that in any type of society which is not
    authoritarian one, certain forms of culture will thrive. This is what he calls the
    hegemony. The joy of the youth clearly highlights the domination of one culture
    i.e. English one and its acceptance with consent and happiness by the youth of the
    other culture i.e. Sub-continental. The writer has subtly unmasked the real face of
    the colonizer‟s given identity. Although the overcoat was well-kept, stuffed and
    fine-looking exteriorly but interior was as ugly as the evil of colonization is itself.
    The scene in hospital emergency room portrays symbolically the ugliness of the
    adopted persona. When overcoat is taken off, the seers become astonished.
    “When overcoat was taken off, only a timeworn woolen sweater was found with
    big holes in it. From these holes a moth eaten and untidy undervest was visible.
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    The young man covered the neck with silk scarf by using such a skill that his
    bosom was hidden. His body was covered with filth.”
    The dark reality is exposed now. This what Fanon says, as quoted earlier, in
    “Black Skin, White Mask.”
    Moving ahead, the jolly but good for nothing walk is also sign of
    Homelessness.HomiBhabha in “Location Of Culture” echoes,
    “Nations could not return to their settled and independent life again without
    noticing that they had learned many foreign ideas and ways, which they had
    unconsciously adopted; and come to feel here and there previously unrecognized
    spiritual and intellectual needs.”
    The young man is wandering vainly and it appears that he is victim of
    Diaspora. The scattered mind youth is not interested in any type of activity going
    around him. Even the fair sex can‟t attract him. Here the protagonist can be
    compared to Asgharof Ahmad Ali‟s “Twilight InDehli”. He, too, is disinterested
    from the on-going socio-political scene and lives in his own created world. Same is
    the case here with the young man. The only activity he does to entertain himself is
    imitationto bowl with great zeal, Visit to cinema‟s yard and two shops but not to
    purchase anything or for any other useful purpose. He is just killing his time and
    finding the ways to decrease his psychological anguishes which are basically only
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    due to his Diasporic condition. The willow stick played the supportive role for the
    youth as stick is used to have support while walking or tracking. The stick
    personifies that individuals who are or like to beBritishers but Abbas ends the story
    with the loss of stick and a sense of guilt in the young man.
    To sum up, we may say that Postcolonial studies are engrossed with the
    issues of Mimicry, Identity, Homelessness, Hybridity, Diaspora and
    creaolisation.Arun P. Mukherjee narrates in “Post-colonialism: Some Uneasy
    Conjunctures” Interrogating Post-Colonialism: Theory, Text and Context,that,
    “Indian literatures, I believe, are too multifarious and too heterogenous to be
    containable in the net of a single theory. Anyway, the questions Indian readers
    must ask Indian literary texts particularly in the context of struggle against
    fundamentalism, casteism andpatriarchy cannot be answered within the framing
    grid provided by postcolonial theory where readers are instructed solely how to
    decode the subtle ironies and parodies directed against the departed colonizer. I
    think I need another theory.”
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