Selvi by R.K. Narayan is a short story that centres on the life of a famous singer named Selvi. The narrative explores themes of exploitation, freedom, and self-discovery.
Selvi by R.K. Narayan Summary
After the end of every concert, the autograph hunters hemming in on her would prevent her from leaving the dais. At that moment, Mohan would come to rescue Selvi, leading her across the hall and hastening her progress to catch the train.
Selvi did not have the habit of contradicting him, though there would have been enough time in hand. This was Mohan’s golden opportunity to show his authority over her. He would remark, to disperse the admirers, that if she could manage to sit in the car, she must fill all the autograph books, because she was irresponsible with time.
To the public, her view was ethereal, but to him, her face was merely private. During his first meeting, he felt that she, not bad-looking, needed touching up. Her complexion was okay, but he chose the correct skin cream and talcum. Mohan did not want anyone to suspect him of encouraging her to use cosmetics. He, being a follower of Mahatma Gandhi, wore simple clothes, avoided luxury, and did not seek modern artificial aids to enhance his wife’s personality. But he had discovered an adoring fan of hers from Singapore, who made a constant supply of cosmetics secretly, subtly, and regularly.
On stage, Selvi looked radiant, and the actual colour of her skin became a topic of discussion among the public. Tremendous speculations on all aspects of her life and person were exchanged by the admirers, especially at the Boardless during coffee. Proprietor Verma loved to overhear this conversation because he was one of her worshippers from a distance. He often felt that he had been favoured by goddess Lakshmi with plenty of wealth and property, but he craved goddess Saraswati in the earthly form of Selvi, the divine singer. His greatest desire in life was to offer her a cup of coffee personally, but wherever he went with a gift for her, Mohan turned him back from the porch.
Like thousands of others, Verma longed to meet her, who lived within a fortress of invisible walls. She never spoke to anyone in his absence about her wedding to Mohan.
Very few of the large number of visitors coming every day could ever have her darshan. They were received at different places in the house, but none could get a glimpse of her except Mohan’s secretary or his secretary’s secretary. Selected personalities were greeted in the main hall and seated on sofas. Ordinary visitors would not be offered seats. They waited until their patience bore out, and then went back.
Their house was a huge building from the East India Company days, and it was the residence of Sir Frederick Lawley. The house was a big, two-storied building with six oversized halls, tall doors, Gothic windows, and Venetian shutters, occupying several acres of ground five miles away from the city on the road to Mempi Hills. The place was wooded with enormous trees, particularly an Elm imported as a seedling from England. Nobody had been a tenant of the house before for fear of the presence of Sir Frederick’s spirit in it, and many tales associated with his spirit loomed large in Malgudi. This abandoned building attracted Mohan’s attention, and he made a bid to have it. He expressed the idea that being a humble disciple of Mahatmaji, who bound the English to quit India with the help of nonviolence, he would be able to drive a British ghost away by applying the Gandhian technique. He found money by lending Selvi’s voice to a film star, who attained much glory by synchronizing her lips with Selvi’s singing in a film. Thereafter, Mohan shut out all film offers to establish Selvi as a unique phenomenon on her own.
Bit by bit, through publicity and recommendations, winning the favour of every journalist and music critic, the building up of her image to its present stature had been attained. With hard work over many years, Selvi’s name acquired a magic charm. Her photographs began to be published in every publication. Her demand was so high that Mohan’s office was besieged by the organizers of musical events from everywhere in the country. He did not commit to anybody but put them in uncertainty, and several offers were rejected to project the parity value for Selvi. When he accepted the engagement of a grateful applicant, he received half of the exorbitant fee in cash without a receipt. He varied his tactics occasionally, specifying the earnings of a certain concert to go to some social service organization of well-known patrons. He would accept no remuneration, apparently, but asked for expenses in cash approximate to his normal fee. He was a financial expert capable of conjuring up money and keeping income tax at arm’s length. His mind was always busy planning how to organize and manipulate men and money. Meanwhile, he became busy with his stenographer and telephonic conversation.
He looked into both professional matters and public relations. Sometimes he attended selected parties and invited dinners with eminent guests, including a few international figures.
On his walls, photographs of himself and Selvi with the biggest personalities of every discipline in the world were hanging.
Verma heard at the gossip table at the Boardless about Selvi’s early life. Her mother, in a back row of Vinayak Mudali Street in a small house with tiles falling off and not enough cash in hand, taught her and her brothers and sisters music, accompanying their instruments.
At Mohan’s photo studio on Market Road, Selvi’s mother brought the girl to be photographed for a school magazine as she had won the first prize in a music competition. From then on, Mohan began visiting their house as a well-wisher and pretended to be a benign god to that family. Sometimes he heard Selvi singing and dramatically sat down cross-legged with total absorption in her melody to pose that it was blasphemous to sit high in a chair in the presence of such an inspired artist.
Day after day, Mohan took over the management of the family. At the Boardless, nobody could relate with certainty where, how, and when Selvi was married to Mohan.
Mohan bought Lawley Terrace with the money earned from the film. After freshening the house, on an auspicious day, he shifted the family to the Terrace.
As they passed through the halls, her mother, brother, and sister were excited at the dimensions of the house, but Selvi had no reaction. She passed through the house as if through the corridors of a museum. Disappointed, Mohan asked how she liked the place. Her simple answer was, “It looks big.” Later, he gave a description and history of the house. She listened uninterestingly. The gigantic settees of the company days on which they were seated were left behind by the company. She did not even notice the immensity of the furniture on which she was seated. In the course of their hundreds of concerts, he understood that she was habitually oblivious of her surroundings. To her, mansions or five-star hotels with all luxuries or small-town or village homes with poor facilities were all equally impressive. She got ready everywhere for the concert at the appointed time. She was always indifferent about the venue and the fee for her concert. She was never inquisitive; rather, she always got ready for her uncertain destiny. Undemanding, unenquiring, uncomplaining, Selvi seemed to exist without noticing anything or anyone.
Within twenty-five years, she became a national figure named the goddess of Melody. When her name was announced in the full-packed hall, there was mutual shoving and pandemonium for capturing seats. The thrill and a thundering ovation diffused amidst the audience. As soon as she gently cleared her throat and hummed softly to assist the accompanists in tuning their instruments, the audience lost themselves in utter silence. Her voice was so versatile and so reaching that every standard of the listeners was equally spellbound by its magic, charm, and appeal. Even a totally witless person listened to her concert for prestige’s sake.
Wherever in the world her concert was performed, Mohan occupied the central seat in the front row and kept his gaze unmoved at the singer, leaving others confused about whether he was spellbound or inspiring her. He was actually busy working out monetary problems, watching if any intrusive tape recorder had been smuggled into the hall, and observing any VIP’s reactions flanking him.
To plan every concert, he used to sit up with Selvi and ask her firmly if she started with the Kalyani Varnam, but she never uttered any other word in her life except an affirmative answer. He suggested which Raga did not elaborate on and which needed a brief detail. Devising the program tight-fitting for the duration of the concerts, finally, he gave her the worthless freedom to present at her best will. He felt pride that no one realized her making a mess only for his planning and guidance.
Everyone appeased Mohan so that he led them to the proximity of the star. Mohan encouraged a particular class of people to call on him and tried to convince Selvi that big personalities like a minister, an IGP, a managing director, or a newspaper editor came to see her. They, in turn, were always eager to do some favor for Mohan, hoping to be recognized by Selvi as a special friend of the family. Selvi came out after ten minutes and paid a brief greeting when the visitors began to eulogize her, referring to her last concert flooded with wonderful words of praise. In reply, Selvi uttered appropriate lines to acknowledge their tribute. Then Mohan felt gratified that the lines, gestures, and expressions he taught her were used perfectly by Selvi. He was self-complacent for shaping her into a celebrity instead of being a typical Vinayak Mudali Street product. He was self-thankful to see her get out of the contamination of Vinayak Mudali Street and become isolated from her kin. With the passage of time, Selvi became costly in her family, and with the increase of her public engagements, her mother and others faded out of her life. Selvi’s few attempts to speak to him about her mother made Mohan annoyed, and Mohan’s expression made her silent forever.
When such occasions arrived, Selvi tried to remind him of her mother, but Mohan expressed relentlessness and shunned the situation, mentioning their invitation to the Governor for lunch the next day when she should sing informally just for thirty minutes. If Selvi asked hesitantly what it would be the next day, Mohan would attend the telephone, ignoring her. Selvi understood his stratagem and restrained herself. She only thought to herself in unrevealed anguish that her own mother could not see her because there was nobody to hear her trauma.
Mohan felt happy once to see her get over the obsession with her mother. He congratulated himself on handling her to get rid of this incantation.
Months and years passed, and Selvi maintained consistency with her career like an automatic machine controlled by a switch.
When in Calcutta, he received the news of her mother’s death. Receiving the news, she refused all her engagements. Mohan withdrew his effort to coax her as he saw her distressed appearance. All through the return journey on the train, Mohan failed to engage her in talk. Although Selvi was habitually reticent, she at least uttered a monosyllabic comment whenever anyone engaged in talking. For a stretch of thirty-six hours, she neither spoke nor looked at him. Reaching home, he at once accompanied her to honor the dead with the pretext that Selvi would appreciate her. Both the big car and Mohan himself seemed ill-fitted in those surroundings, and he went to Selvi’s mother’s residence. Selvi’s sister and brother did not come. A neighbor explained detailed information about how she had died and how her body had been kept.
Mohan tried to send him away from the proximity of such a famous star. Mohan was taken aback when she told Mohan to go back, and she herself was staying there. Mohan, in an audible voice with much hesitation, wanted to send back the car to take her back, but she turned down the suggestion.
Mohan tried to object, but Selvi candidly declared that her mother, her guru, lived and died there, and she too would do that because her mother’s good was hers.
It was unknown to Mohan that ever mild and compliant Selvi could be so truculent or voluble now. He waited for a change. The neighbor continued narrating in every detail the old lady’s last moments and the problem associated with the final obsequies. He narrated how he failed to reach Selvi and finally performed the funeral on the bank of the Sarayu. He reminisced that he was a boy since then the old lady knew him, who called her Auntie, and he used to listen to Selvi practicing music, but now he could not afford to buy a ticket to enter the hall where she sang.
Consternated, Mohan never knew her to go beyond his written script. She had never given time to anybody after receiving his signal. That day, to his utter disbelief, she took a dim view at his signal and listened to the man’s frenzied revelation of the funeral with triumphant joy.
After waiting impatiently, Mohan asked her before going if she wanted anything, but Selvi pronounced stoutly ‘nothing’. She was wearing an old sari and without makeup or jewelry. He knew that she needed nothing. For the first time, he tried to consult her on a series of concerts, but she was aloof of such a question. The car which he drove did not catch now the public’s attraction. The crowd now turned and stared at Selvi, whose luxury citadel was broken away, and she was no more a hearsay and a myth. She broke down to hear that she did not come to her mother’s help.
Three days later, Mohan came to inform her about an honorary degree to be awarded to her by Delhi University, and the Prime Minister would preside over the function, but Selvi showed a negative attitude. When pressed, she refused to bear the sight of anyone.
Mohan entreated her to be present just at that engagement and then sign the gramophone contract. Her gesture reflected that all those were not of her concern. He tried to blame her for landing him in trouble. But when there was a crowd in the one-roomed house watching and following every word, the discussion was impossible because he should have some privacy with her. If he could get her alone, he would either coax her or wring her neck, but failing, he turned back away desperately. His next visit happened after a week, but she neither welcomed him nor asked him to leave. He declined his invitation to get in the car. Selvi accused him in her thoughts of ruining her life.
Allowing her four more weeks for the mourning before visiting her again, he found her on the seat at the back of the little hall singing with a big audience overflowing into the street in front of her. The place took the shape of an auditorium where a violinist and a drummer assisted her. In his opinion, she was frittering away her talent. She told him to sit down. Spending a while at a corner, he slipped away unobtrusively. He visited her again and again, but all the time there were people around her. People thronged there from far and wide about her to attend her free music sessions. Verma of The Boardless also brought a gift box of sweets wrapped in gilt paper and handed it to Selvi, having realized his ambition. She remained brooding and overlooking everything.
Mohan expected her to get alone at night. At eleven o’clock one night, leaving his car in Market Road, he came to Vinayak Mudali Street. He called Selvi and requested her to open the door. She opened a window shutter and told him to go away. Mohan turned back with disappointment, calling her an ungrateful wretch.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q1. How had Mohan netted Selvi?
Selvi, evidently, had been brought up by her mother in an alley on Vinayak Mudali Street under the weight of utter poverty. There, she learned music from her mother.
At that time, Mohan had a photo studio on Market Road. One day, Selvi’s mother brought her daughter in for a photograph for a school magazine after she had won the first prize in a music competition. Thereafter, Mohan visited them occasionally as their well-wisher. He sat in a single chair provided, drank coffee, and generally behaved as a benign god to the family. He offered them advice and guidance. Sometimes he would request Selvi to sing, and, leaving the chair, he would sit on the floor because he feigned that sitting on a chair in the presence of such an inspired artist would be blasphemous. Day after day, he performed small services for the family and eventually took over the management of their affairs. But no one could say for sure when and where he married Selvi.
Q2. How did Mohan keep Selvi out of everyone’s reach?
Selvi used to act and say everything as she was directed by Mohan, and never exceeded a single point. People courted Mohan’s favor and goodwill, expecting to gain proximity to Selvi. He encouraged a particular class to call on him and received them in the central hall of Lawley Terrace. He would call aloud for Selvi and tell her so-and-so had come. The visitors would be either a minister, an IG of Police, the Managing Director of a textile mill, or even a newspaper editor. Everyone had an intention to provide Mohan with some favor, hoping that he would be recognized by Selvi as a special friend of the family. Selvi came out of her chamber ten minutes after being summoned. She acted her part with precision and, with a wonderful smile, said “Namaste,” pressing her palms gently together. A thrill immediately ran down the spines of the distinguished visitors, who generally referred to her last concert and confessed how deeply moving it had been and how a particular raga had been ringing in their ears long after that evening. Selvi replied with the appropriate line, “Of course, I feel honored that my little effort has pleased a person of your caliber.” But Mohan interposed with either a joke or a personal remark, as he did not want any visitor, however important, to hold her attention, and drew it back to himself at the right momentt.
Q3. What did Mohan use to do when Selvi sang on the dais?
During a concert anywhere in the world, Mohan always took the central seat in the first row of the auditorium and riveted his gaze on the singer, leaving people to wonder whether he was lost in her spell or inspiring her through thought transference. Although his eyes were on her, his mind would be occupied with complicated arithmetic related to monetary problems. He would also watch unobtrusively for any tape recorder that might be smuggled into the hall, as he never permitted recording, and slyly note the reactions of the VIPs flanking him.
Q4. How had the Star Singer occupied the hearts of the listeners?
In the course of a quarter century, her name earned an all-pervasive and overwhelming charm. People called her the Goddess of Melody. When her name was announced, a hall of any size would be filled to its brim, and people jostled in a frenzy to capture seats. With her appearance on the dais, the audience was thrilled, as if granted a divine vision, and Selvi was accorded a thunderous ovation. When she settled down, gently cleared her throat, and hummed softly to assist the accompanists in tuning their instruments, a silence engulfed the auditorium. Her appeal was equally strong among common, unsophisticated listeners as well as pundits, theorists, and musicologists. Even those who had little interest in soft music liked to attend the concert for prestige’s sake.
Q5. How were the visitors received at the Terrace?
Visitors who came for a darshan were barely allowed to reach her presence. Some were received on the ground floor, some were welcomed in the lawns, and some were encouraged to go up the staircase, but nobody could catch a glimpse of her. Selected personalities were received in the main hall upstairs and offered sofas to sit on, but ordinary visitors were not given seats. They could occupy any bench or chair scattered around and wait as long as they pleased before eventually leaving.
Q6. What is Boardless? Who is its proprietor, and what is his ambition?
The Boardless is a restaurant where coffee is served. The proprietor of The Boardless is Verma.
He had achieved a lot of favour from Goddess Lakshmi, but his chagrin was that Goddess Saraswati had no benevolence toward him. His present ambition is to be gratified by Selvi, who, in their midst, is the divine singer in an animated form of Saraswati and who might condescend to accept a cup of coffee or sweets from his own hand.
Q7. When and why did Mohan shut out all film offers for Selvi?
Mohan found money to buy the house when Selvi received a fee for lending her voice to a film star who just moved her lips to synchronize with Selvi’s singing and attained much glory for her performance in a film.
Thereafter, Mohan shut out all film offers for Selvi with a view to establishing her as a unique phenomenon on her own, not as a voice for some other person.
Q8. Why was Mohan self-congratulated?
Mohan thanked himself because his toilsome efforts had shaped her into a successful celebrity. Otherwise, she would still be another version of her mother and brother, typical Vinayak Mudali Street products, and nothing beyond that. He was glad that he had been able to train her so well. In order for her to quickly escape the contamination of Vinayak Mudali Street, he gently and unobtrusively began to isolate her from her mother, brother, and sister. As time went on, she saw less and less of them. At first, he sent a car once a week. Then he increased her public engagements, and ultimately she was isolated from her kin. That’s why he thanked himself.
Q9. When did Mohan realize that Selvi was no longer his caged bird who could only imitate him?
When Selvi came back to Vinayak Mudali Street after her mother’s death, she showed no respect for Mohan’s orders. She ignored all gestures and behaviors trained by Mohan. She listened to a neighbor’s narration about the sorrowful and pathetic end of her mother’s life, breaking all the artificial protocols established by Mohan. His every effort failed to prevent ordinary people from talking directly to Selvi. But Selvi told him to go back to the Terrace if he liked. She broke Mohan’s firm belief that Selvi could never go beyond the limits he had introduced. He wanted to send the car when she needed it, but Selvi boldly told him never to send the car. She was staying there as she had done previously. Mohan objected to her decision to stay on that street, but she ignored the objection. She candidly stated that her mother was her guru, who had taught her music there. She had lived there and died there. Selvi announced that she herself would live and die there because what had been good for her mother was good for her too. Mohan was suddenly awakened from his long-cherished dream that Selvi was his pet bird.
Q10. How did Mohan try his best to bring her back?
Although Selvi decided to live on Vinayak Mudali Street forever and clearly informed him of her decision, Mohan did not give up hope. He tried to adulate her in various ways. He wanted to send her necessary things, but she refused to accept anything. He reminded her about the concert series in Bhopal and for the first time consulted her on such matters, asking if he should change the dates. Selvi simply replied that he might do whatever he liked. She did not need to clarify her meaning. Three days later, Mohan came again to inform her that she would have to receive an honorary degree from Delhi University. The function would be presided over by the PM. But Selvi turned down his request. She asked him to leave, as she could not bear anyone’s sight. He tried to insist on the engagements, but Selvi’s look made it clear that these were not her concerns. Thereafter, he visited her repeatedly and tried to talk and be with her privately, but Selvi’s strong refusal dashed all his hopes. One night, he tried to enter Selvi’s room at eleven with an earnest request to open the door. Evidently annoyed at this intrusion, Selvi sent him away with a warning through the window shutters.
Q11. How did Verma realize his ambition?
Verma brought a gift wrapped in gilt paper, handed it to Selvi, and then went away. Thus, he realized his ambition to approach his goddess with an offering.