Niraakarana means Denial.
This novel is about a man living in the slum area of Mumbai, supporting his family’s food and shelter by earning as a job typist, left with five children after his two wives’ death. He faces much difficulty caring for the kids by himself, and decides to give them away for adoption. The novel explores the emotional conflicts of both father and children, meanwhile he explores his spiritual path, understand oneself.
Ashish Iyer –
Niraakarana is a deeply philosophical novel, and in this work, Bhyrappa turns his gaze toward themes of adoption, orphanhood, and the intricate responsibilities of family. At its core, the novel explores what it truly means to uphold one’s swadharma—the personal duty each of us is born to fulfill. It is a powerful reminder that, no matter the circumstances, we cannot abandon the roles we are destined to play.
The protagonist, Narahari, lives in the margins of society, in a slum, burdened by poverty and personal loss. After the death of his wives, he contemplates giving away his children for adoption, believing this renunciation will clear the path for his spiritual quest. Yet, what follows is not a straightforward journey to enlightenment, but a profound emotional struggle between a father and his children—between the tug of spiritual aspiration and the pull of human responsibility.
One of the most compelling parts of the book is Narahari’s sojourn in the Himalayas. Amidst the stillness of those ancient mountains, even after having renounced everything, he finds no peace. The life of a *samnyasi* eludes him. The spiritual order refuses to accept a man who has forsaken the foundational dharma of his life—his duty as a father.
Thus, the title Niraakarana—which means refusal—resonates on two levels. It signifies both Narahari’s rejection of his worldly duties and his eventual rejection from the spiritual life he seeks. In trying to abandon both, he is ultimately embraced by neither.
As Shri Krishna declares in the Bhagavad Gita, mere renunciation of worldly action—karma tyaga—is not true samnyasa. True renunciation lies in surrendering the sense of doership and remaining unattached to the fruits of our actions—karma phala tyaga. It is this insight that Narahari fails to grasp.
For me, this novel was an exceptional literary experience—one that gripped me from the very first page. Some readers may find its tone heavy or melancholic, reminiscent of Bhyrappa’s Anchu (Brink in English), which delves into mental health. But for me, Niraakarana opened a window to a deeper understanding of life and human bonds.
Bhyrappa’s vivid prose and nuanced portrayal of characters illuminate the complexity of family relationships. The narrative unfolds with an ambiguity that lingers long after the final page, inviting readers to ponder the depth of human connections. Its open-ended conclusion is not a flaw but a feature—leaving just enough unresolved to stir thought and reflection.
In all, Niraakarana is an intellectually stimulating and emotionally profound work that challenges the reader’s heart as much as the mind. It asks difficult questions—and sometimes leaves them unanswered. And perhaps, like life itself, that is perfectly fine. The book is available in both Kannada and Hindi.