Her? : Padma’s Place in MC

In the context of Saleem’s autobiography, with its endless variety of characters and events, Padma Mangroli is seemingly out of place. She does not appear in Saleem’s narrative until the very last pages of his story, yet she banters with Saleem from the second chapter of Midnight’s Children as she is privy to his “work in progress”. The question arises, why is this character peppered throughout the novel and not saved for the very last pages like all the other characters, patiently waiting in the wings for their story in Saleem’s history to unfold? At first glance, Rushdie utilizes Padma’s presence to voice the anticipated questions of the reader, as well as frustration with Saleem’s constant digressions. For instance, in Book One, which describes Saleem's birth and enigmatic parenthood, "'Is that him?' Padma asks, in some confusion. 'That soft cowardly plumpie? Is he going to be your father?'" (52) Here, referring to the long digression into Nadir Khan’s backstory, she verbalizes exactly what this reader was thinking, specifically, that Saleem has spent page after page alluding to his paternal identity without revealing who it precisely is. She anchors the pandering nature that Saleem relies often too heavily on and reminds him, and consequently the reader, what the point of these stories are. Her name itself, translated as “The One Who Possesses Dung” (20) by the village folk, supports the theory that Padma’s place as a support vessel for Saleem. (and the reader) In fact, he rhapsodizes on the virtue of dung stating “Dung, that fertilizes and causes crops to grow! Dung…sold to the village builders, who use it to secure and strengthen the walls of kachcha buildings made of mud.” (29) As the dung goddess, Padma fertilizes Saleem’s thoughts, so to speak, and causes him to get more directly to the point. She also secures and strengthens the readers’ questions and doubts as they arise in during the narrative. This precipitously leads to the question of why Rushdie chooses to have Padma leave at the beginning of Book Two, only to reappear five chapters later. I do not have an answer for this. However, I will provide some observations on her departure and absence. Introduced to the reader as attempting to goad Saleem into eating, it is clear she is somewhat of a caretaker for him. But it is only when she abandons him in anger that we fully realize the depth of his dependence on her. Initially in the wake of her disappearance Saleem simply states “our Padma is gone, and I miss her. Yes, that’s it.” (171) yet as time wears on and Saleem finds himself in the trenches of his story alone, he begins to doubt himself, “in her absence, my certainties are falling apart” (189) He even begins to recognize chronological errors in his narrative he has made along the way. Whether he would have made such errors, or even recognized that they were errors, in Padma’s presence is probable, but the fact is, he has discovered them in her absence, suggesting that she is more than simply a way for Rushdie to project the questions he believes readers would have. Simply put by Saleem, “I am alone, without my necessary ear, and it isn’t enough” (170)

Padma is indeed the necessary ear, for Saleem is in need of a listener to complete his parallel to the tradition of the Scheherazade. He states that he “must work fast, faster than Scheherazade” (4) and uses the figure of 1001 repeatedly throughout the text. Futhermore, as Padma is introduced, we learn that “she can’t read and…dislikes other people knowing anything she doesn’t” (20) which leads one to believe that Saleem is sharing his writing to her verbally, thus advancing the oral tradition of 1001 Nights. Why would Rushdie choose to align his story with folklore from the Islamic Golden Age? One may argue that it is a natural choice for a novel so heavily influenced by magical realism. However, I would like to posit that its allusions in the text, along with the placement of Padma, is for a breath of hope in an otherwise dire situation. For Scheherazade, as long as she had one more story to tell, her death would not be certain. Same is true for Saleem, his conatus to continue the tale is that he will not fall to pieces (perhaps why there are so many digression along the way?) However, stories must end. In Scheherazade’s case, her storytelling was so powerful that it caused the King to fall in love, marry, and have a family with her. For Saleem? He has Padma. In the end, Padma’s importance lies in the resurgence of the optimism epidemic. So that Saleem is not in the exact same place as he was in the beginning (with Mary Pereira, in the old Methwold Estate) she represents the hope of the future and even convinces Saleem that perhaps he will not crumble into six million pieces.