ThAct: The Ministry of Utmost Happiness
Welcome to this blog post, which forms a part of our flipped learning activity guided by Dr.Dilip Barad Sir. As part of our exploration of The Ministry of Utmost Happiness by Arundhati Roy, we’ve been assigned the task of engaging with a series of videos related to the novel. Based on these, we are expected to reflect and write a summary capturing the essence of their content.
'The Ministry of Utmost Happiness'
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Exploring The Ministry of Utmost Happiness: A Tapestry of Identity, Belonging, and Resistance
Arundhati Roy’s The Ministry of Utmost Happiness is not a linear tale it’s a fragmented mosaic of stories, voices, and histories that come together to illuminate the lives of those pushed to the margins. The novel, rich in symbolism and woven with threads of magical realism, examines what it means to live and to be seen in a world marked by rigid boundaries of identity, faith, gender, and politics.
Structured in five parts Khwabgah, Jannat Guest House, Jantar Mantar, Kashmir, and Dandakaranya the narrative meanders through multiple spaces and lives. At its heart is Anjum, born Aftab, whose experience as an intersex person in a deeply patriarchal and binary society forms the emotional and thematic core of the novel.
The opening chapter, "Where Do Old Birds Go to Die?", introduces us to a surreal world Anjum's world situated in the Jannat Graveyard, a self-fashioned haven for the misfits of society. This space, both literal and metaphorical, is a place where societal rejects find not just shelter, but a sense of dignity and love. Roy blends the mystical and the mundane as Anjum’s daily rituals with birds and bats highlight a life lived in quiet resistance on the edge of the world, yet full of meaning.
Anjum's life is anything but ordinary. Born with both male and female genitalia to Jahanara Begum and Mulaqat Ali, Aftab’s existence unsettles the family’s traditional expectations. The pain of non-acceptance first by the mother, then society echoes through Anjum’s early years. However, the discovery of the Khwabgah, a hijra commune led by Begum Kulsoom Bi, becomes a turning point. There, Aftab finds not only a community but a mirror other lives that reflect the struggles and the strength of living outside the norm.
The Khwabgah doesn’t just offer refuge; it becomes the site of transformation. Aftab becomes Anjum, embracing her womanhood and asserting her right to exist on her own terms. Yet the world outside remains hostile. Visits to religious shrines, such as Hazrat Sarmad’s Dargah, underline the desperate desire for divine validation and society's tendency to invoke religion to judge rather than to heal.
The arrival of Zainab, a baby Anjum finds abandoned at Jama Masjid, brings new depth to her life. Zainab becomes a symbol of innocence, love, and purpose, and Anjum’s fierce protectiveness for her unveils another layer of her character: the maternal instinct that transcends biology and societal approval. Her emotional pilgrimage to Ajmer Sharif seeking blessings for the child reflects both vulnerability and faith in a world that often seems devoid of both.
Roy doesn’t shy away from confronting political realities. The novel collides with history in its depiction of the 2002 Gujarat Riots, exposing the violent ruptures in India's secular fabric. The death of Zakir Mian, a beloved friend of Anjum, during the riots marks a devastating loss, while Anjum’s miraculous survival owing to a superstition that killing hijras brings misfortune highlights the paradox of societal prejudice and fear. The trauma propels her to retreat further from the world and begin anew at the Jannat Guest House, a sanctuary she creates for those like herself.
In both the graveyard and the guest house, Roy crafts spaces of radical acceptance. These are not utopias but zones of survival, resistance, and quiet revolution. Through these spaces, Anjum and others like her reclaim agency in a world that systematically tries to erase them.
Throughout, Roy’s narrative is infused with magical realism, not as an escape from reality but as a means to reveal deeper truths. The blurring of the real and the surreal invites readers to question not just the structures of society, but the limits of empathy and imagination.
In sum, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness is a profound meditation on identity, grief, resilience, and love. Through Anjum’s story, Roy offers us a powerful testament: that even amidst violence and alienation, the human spirit can find ways to flourish, to nurture, and to dream of something like happiness even in its most unlikely form.
Saddam, originally named Dayachand, belonged to the Chamar caste before converting to Islam. In the hospital, he was relegated to the job of performing postmortems on unclaimed bodies tasks the upper-caste doctors refused to do. Tensions between him and the doctors escalated, eventually forcing him to quit. He later joined a private security agency, where further exploitation awaited.
Under Sangeeta Madam, the agency’s corrupt head, a system is revealed where frontline workers like Saddam toil endlessly while the financial benefits are pocketed by the owners. The disparity here mirrors the broader theme of systemic injustice in the novel.
Anjum, however, confronts Saddam about his identity, accusing him of hiding his past. She reveals that he is not truly Muslim and that his real name is Dayachand, someone who used to skin dead animals work associated with his caste. This revelation highlights the discrimination and identity crisis faced by those born into oppressed communities, and the lengths they go to reclaim dignity.
The video also introduces Inspector Sherawat, a symbol of corruption within the police force. He extorts bribes from Dayachand and his father, and when they cannot comply, has them arrested without cause. A violent mob, stirred by prejudice, brutally lynches Dayachand’s father in custody an incident that leaves Dayachand emotionally shattered and burning for justice.
It is in this moment of grief and anger that Dayachand reinvents himself as Saddam Hussain, inspired by the Iraqi leader known for resisting Western power. Roy treats this transformation with nuance highlighting how names and identities become tools of resistance. He later expresses his intent to marry Zainab, symbolizing his hope for a new life.
The narrative also moves toward Jantar Mantar, an iconic site of political dissent in Delhi, originally an astronomical observatory built by Raja Jai Singh. The video touches on the 2011 Anna Hazare Movement, where Hazare is satirically described as a “Tubby Old Gandhian,” accompanied by Mr. Agarwal an allegorical stand-in for Arvind Kejriwal. Anjum and her group arrive at Jantar Mantar, linking their personal resistance to larger political movements, thus bridging the personal with the political.
This segment of the video delves into the novel’s shifting narrative structure, moving from Anjum’s perspective to that of Biplab Dasgupta, a government employee working in the Intelligence Bureau (IB). Biplab’s first-person narration, marked by its unreliability and self-justifications, introduces a new layer to the story and a host of significant characters whose lives intersect in surprising ways.
We meet Tilottama, a fiercely independent and enigmatic woman who takes in a missing infant, naming her Miss Jebeen the Second. Alongside her, we encounter Nagraj Hariharan, a media figure with access to influential circles; Musa Yeswi, a man transformed into a militant following the tragic loss of his wife and child; and Amrik Singh, a brutal police officer notorious for his role in state violence. The narrative also includes ACP Pinky Sodhi and Balbeer Sodhi, characters who serve to move the political and emotional currents of the story forward.
A particularly intriguing angle comes from the character known as the Landlord, who owns the building where many of the characters reside. Through his observations, we get glimpses into the inner lives of these residents. Tilottama remains a key figure around whom much of the narrative revolves. Her relationships with Musa, Naga, and Biplab weave an emotional and political web that adds depth and tension to the story. Her decision to shelter Miss Jebeen the Second is a radical act of resistance and care that complicates the moral fabric of the novel.
Musa’s descent into militancy is painted with compassion and insight. The killing of his wife, Arifa, and daughter, Miss Jebeen the First, during a military operation, is a moment of irreversible grief that drives his involvement in the Kashmir insurgency. This personal devastation reflects the broader violence in the valley, which the novel portrays as a deeply human tragedy. While some critics argue the novel leans sympathetically toward the insurgents, it undeniably presents a raw, emotional depiction of the costs of conflict though the absence of the Kashmiri Pandit perspective has drawn valid critique.
The narrative also flashes back to the college days of the central characters, where their shared artistic project a play and mutual affection for Tilottama reveal both emotional vulnerability and ideological tension. A powerful symbol from this part of the novel is the body of a young insurgent found clutching freshly blooming flowers, an image that poignantly captures the tragic contradiction of beauty growing from death. This moment stands as a metaphor for the hope that endures even in the most violent settings.
Another emotionally charged section centers on Revathy, the biological mother of Miss Jebeen the Second. Her story unfolds through a harrowing nine-page letter that reveals the rape and betrayal she endured at the hands of police officers. Revathy’s voice, though marginalized, becomes one of the novel’s most powerful expressions of pain and resilience. Her testimony is a reminder of the systemic silencing of women in conflict zones.
Arundhati Roy also examines the psychological consequences of prolonged violence, particularly through the character of Amrik Singh. Once a ruthless enforcer of state power, he becomes increasingly haunted by paranoia and guilt, leading to his eventual unraveling. His mental collapse reflects the corrosive impact of brutality not only on victims but also on perpetrators.
In its multi-layered and polyphonic storytelling, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness emerges as a profound meditation on identity, resistance, and the far-reaching consequences of political conflict. Yet, amid the despair, Roy plants seeds of hope—a vision of peaceful coexistence, of reunification among South Asian nations, and of individuals defying odds to nurture love, compassion, and dignity. The novel ultimately asks: even in the darkest of times, can humanity prevail?
Part 4 :Udaya Jebeen & Dung BeetleThis video presents an insightful analysis of the key characters and central themes in The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, emphasizing how interconnected narratives and characters weave together the emotional tapestry of the novel. At the heart of this web is Dr. Azad Bhartiya, who serves as a symbolic bridge between the novel’s multiple storylines and ideological tensions.
We are introduced to the domestic life at Jannat Guest House, where Saddam and Miss Udaya Jebeen now live as a married couple. Alongside them, Tilo an introspective and poetic figure teaches at Jannat Graveyard, further intertwining the novel’s motifs of death, survival, and renewal. Her quiet, inner world contrasts with the external chaos the characters face. The bond between Tilo and Musa is tender and emotionally rich, shaped by past intimacy and a shared sense of loss. Musa’s decision to return to Kashmir, a place fraught with political and personal tragedies, deepens the emotional resonance of their relationship.
Tilo’s personality comes alive through her reflections and poetic sensibility. Her recital of an Urdu poem becomes a powerful moment of artistic and emotional expression, underscoring themes of memory, storytelling, and identity. Musa finds her depth and individuality compelling, and their connection offers a glimpse of what love might look like in a broken world.
The narrative then shifts to Anjum, the transgender woman who founded Jannat Guest House. Her nightly strolls through the graveyard with Miss Udaya Jebeen provide a moment of serenity amid the broader turbulence of the novel. Anjum's character embodies resilience, having withstood societal rejection and communal violence. Her bond with the young girl is gentle and protective, reinforcing the novel’s recurring theme of creating family beyond blood ties.
Musa’s flashbacks, especially of a young man’s death in Kashmir, are laden with sorrow and layered meaning. These memories reflect the long shadow of grief cast by conflict and hint at how loss becomes part of one’s identity. Yet, even in such grief, the narrative makes space for hope.
The video concludes with a message of endurance. Despite the suffering, Anjum and Miss Udaya Jebeen symbolize the continuation of life and the quiet strength of the marginalized. The image of the dung beetle, persistent in its task, acts as a humble but profound metaphor: life trudges on, and even the smallest acts carry meaning. The ending affirms that amidst chaos, there is room for healing, for rebuilding, and for the possibility of a gentler future.
The Fragmentation of the Nation and the Self
Roy uses fragmented narrative structures and shifting points of view not only to mirror India's complex sociopolitical landscape but also to reflect the internal fragmentation experienced by her characters. India is not presented as a cohesive entity but as a collection of divided identities religious, political, sexual, and regional. The characters' personal stories parallel the brokenness of the nation. Musa’s torn identity as both a father and a Kashmiri insurgent, Tilo’s fractured relationships, and Anjum’s dual existence as both man and woman, Muslim and outcast, echo the broader national identity crisis.
The Politics of Space and Belonging
Physical spaces in the novel graveyards, government buildings, war zones, and homes are layered with political meaning. The graveyard, which should represent finality, becomes a sanctuary for the living. Jannat Guest House turns into a symbol of inclusive refuge amid exclusionary systems. In contrast, government spaces like interrogation rooms and bureaucratic offices symbolize control, surveillance, and oppression. Roy critiques who is allowed to belong in public and private spaces and how space becomes both a weapon and a form of resistance.
Children and the Inheritance of Violence
Children in the novel like Miss Udaya Jebeen and the anonymous children who suffer due to war and displacement symbolize both the cost and continuity of violence. They inherit not only broken families but broken nations. Yet, their presence also suggests the potential for regeneration. Tilo’s adoption of Udaya Jebeen shows how care, not bloodline, creates kinship in the face of historical trauma. The stories of lost or murdered children in the Kashmir conflict also emphasize how innocence is often the first casualty of ideology.
Silence and Speech as Resistance
Throughout the novel, characters resist dominant narratives not just through protest, but also through silence. Tilo, in particular, communicates through absence her withdrawn nature, her deliberate omissions, and her quiet observation all act as subtle forms of resistance against the demand to speak in prescribed ways. Roy suggests that silence can hold power, allowing room for personal truth rather than state-mandated versions of reality.
Animals and the Natural World as Moral Compass
The recurring imagery of animals such as the dung beetle, horses, and birds contrasts the cruelty of human society. These creatures act instinctively, without ideology, and often provide companionship, continuity, or symbolic guidance to the characters. The dung beetle, in particular, becomes a symbol of transformation, showing how even decay and ruin can be repurposed into life-sustaining work. This theme subtly critiques the destructiveness of human politics by contrasting it with the balance found in nature.
Surveillance, Control, and the Illusion of Freedom
Roy presents a world deeply entrenched in surveillance by the state, media, and even within personal relationships. Characters like Biplab Dasgupta personify the state's gaze, always watching, judging, and recording. The illusion of freedom is unmasked in moments where personal choices are dictated by invisible systems be it caste, gender, or nationalism. Roy critiques modern forms of control, suggesting that freedom in contemporary India is often rhetorical, not real.
Hazrat Sarmad Shaheed – A Martyr of Ambiguity
Instead of focusing on just love and acceptance, Sarmad can be read as a martyr of ambiguity a figure who defies binary identities: Jew/Muslim, man/lover, heretic/saint. His refusal to recite the full Kalima becomes a radical act of spiritual uncertainty a rejection of rigid dogma. In a novel obsessed with borders (national, sexual, religious), Sarmad becomes a spiritual prototype for boundary-breaking, reminding us that truth may lie in incompletion or the refusal to conform.
The Old Man-Baby – Manufactured Dissent and Media Politics
More than just a corrupted protester, the Old Man-Baby is a satire of political puppetry a symbol of how public anger is commodified, sanitized, and sold back as televised revolution. His transformation from a frail rebel to a nationalist tool critiques how media and power structures absorb genuine resistance and turn it into harmless spectacle, preserving the status quo.
Shiraz Cinema – From Art to Atrocity
The Shiraz is not only a symbol of Indian imperialism in Kashmir but also of how dreams are weaponized. Once a site of collective illusion (cinema), it becomes a theater of nightmares (interrogation center). Its fall from art to atrocity reflects Roy’s bleak commentary on how the state co-opts cultural space, turning entertainment into surveillance, and stories into tools of terror.
Jannat Guest House – A Post-Nation Utopia
Beyond inclusivity, the Jannat Guest House is a post-nation space, rejecting the idea of state, religion, and even life itself as organizing principles. Located in a graveyard, it is run by people society considers "dead" trans people, casteless people, political refugees. It represents an alternative social order, a shadow India built on solidarity rather than sovereignty. It’s a question: What if the only possible paradise is among the outcastes?
Duniya and Jannat – Collapsing Cosmologies
Roy uses these terms not just metaphorically but cosmologically. Duniya (world) and Jannat (paradise) are theological concepts that lose meaning as the characters pass through them. In this novel, Jannat is not divine reward but a shack in a cemetery. Duniya is not the real world but a stage for violence. This reversal suggests paradise is what we make in defiance of reality, not what we wait for after it.
Motherhood – Rewriting the Nation-Womb Metaphor
Instead of glorifying motherhood, Roy exposes how motherhood is a contested political terrain. Anjum’s longing, Tilo’s ambivalence, and Revathy’s loss reveal that motherhood is not a natural role but a site of violence, sacrifice, and resistance. The novel rewrites the nationalist metaphor of Bharat Mata (Mother India) by showing how the "mother" figure is often excluded, abused, or made to sacrifice her children in the name of the nation.
Bodies and Waste – Necropolitics and the Disposable Citizen
Rather than just caste-based discrimination, the novel uses waste to comment on necropolitics the power to decide who lives and who dies. The state disposes of unwanted bodies Dalits, hijras, Muslims just like garbage. But Roy inverts the metaphor: those closest to waste (like Anjum and Saddam) reclaim agency through defilement, turning what is abject into something sacred, thus disrupting purity-based hierarchies.
Gujarat ka Lalla – Myth-Making and Political Deification
Rather than a straightforward critique of Hindu nationalism, Gujarat ka Lalla is a symbol of political myth-making. His rise from the ruins of Gujarat is framed like a religious epic, complete with marches, slogans, and blood sacrifice. He isn’t just a man he is manufactured divinity. Roy warns of a future where politicians replace gods, and democracy becomes ritual rather than reality.
Saffron – The Color of Simulated Sanctity
More than violence, saffron in the novel symbolizes simulated sanctity a color hijacked to evoke purity, tradition, and nationalism, while masking brutality. It becomes a uniform for performative piety, a costume for violence. The "saffron parakeets" are not birds of freedom, but parrots of ideology echoing hate in a language cloaked in holiness.
Vultures – The Death of Historical Memory
Rather than just protectors of cultural questioning, vultures are keepers of decay, feeding off the dead and turning it into survival. Their extinction parallels the erasure of inconvenient histories massacres, betrayals, resistance. The fact that they die silently, from something invisible (diclofenac), mirrors how truth dies not from bullets but from chemicals, silences, and omissions.
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