Manu Joseph Pulls no Punches in Why the Poor Don't Kill Us

 

Manu Joseph’s The Illicit Happiness of Other People moved me to tears. Even now, my lips quiver at the mention of the book’s name, and my tear glands well up with a flood of tears. The end was too much to bear.

This book is different from his earlier works like The Illicit Happiness of Other People and the iconic Serious Men. I was intrigued by this latest work of his, so without much thought, it became my February read.

Why the Poor Don’t Kill Us is a piercingly intimate inquiry by Manu Joseph that highlights real-life instances where the middle class and the rich get away scot-free in their dealings with the poor.

Joseph’s matter-of-fact writing doesn’t sound overtly critical, yet it makes you introspect about the things you take for granted. He examines the privileges that define the rich at the expense of the poor, or rather how the poor have resigned themselves to the treatment they are subjected to. It reveals how misery is normalized and how lamenting one’s miserable condition is almost prohibited in our country.

The author pulls no punches as he seamlessly transitions from one reason to another, showing how the rich exploit the stoicism of the poor. He quotes his own lived experiences and anecdotes.

He begins the book with the cataclysmic Bhuj earthquake and its brutal aftermath, which buried too many lives in its debris. The pragmatic acceptance of reality by the poor led him to write a social commentary on the psychology of Indians.

Through his life in Gurugram, he juxtaposes the lives of the poor and the rich, highlighting how the former storm through the gates of the latter every morning, while the rich keep their lives private enough to ensure that the poor do not disrupt the aesthetics of the world they have built.

In some chapters, he reflects on his childhood and his growing-up years at Madras Christian College, as well as his current life in Gurugram. His own mother features in the chapter “Pawnbrokers,” where Malayalam Christians and Rajasthani Marwaris share the common thread of being pawnbrokers, infamously known as “blade.” Pawnbrokers were expected to maintain a solemn face when women came to pawn their jewellery. After deeply inquiring into their situation, they would assess whether the reason was strong enough before allowing the transaction.

From net neutrality, which made the internet widely accessible, to Nandan Nilekani’s journey in bringing Aadhaar to the people, every chapter refreshes our memory of how these significant events shaped our country.

He says politicians need not solve any issue; merely acting as a vent for the poor builds trust in their minds. This also allows politicians to evade the roles and duties they are ordained to discharge.

The chapter about how the country views sports and sportspeople will wrench your heart. How athletes achieve success in dreadful conditions—navigating difficult government protocols, poor ground conditions, and erratic match timings—is nothing short of remarkable. “Despite India” is a cynical phrase coined by the author, but it makes you introspect deeply about how, despite the country’s unlivable conditions on the ground, the drive to win is the only thing that holds one accountable to their sport.

I loved most of the chapters, but I also found some parts unrelatable, and some of his claims seem rooted in his personal context and cannot be generalized.

The sharp wit Manu Joseph carries throughout the book bears the imprint of his profession as an editor and journalist. His no-holds-barred approach feels like a breath of fresh air in times of low or no tolerance.

Pick this book if you want to look truth squarely in the eye with an unflinching gaze.

“When they [the poor] see the riches around them… why do they tolerate it? Why don’t they crawl out of their catastrophe and finish us off? Why don’t little men emerge from manholes and attack cars? Why don’t the maids who squat like frogs by kitchen sinks pull out the hair of their conscientious madams who never give them a day off or pay them as much as they pay at least the drivers? Why do the poor tolerate the rich? Why is there peace? Why do we get away with it? Why don’t the poor kill us?”