“Please understand, Your Excellency, that India is two countries in one: an India of Light, and an India of Darkness. The ocean brings light to my country. Every place on the map of India near the ocean is well off. But the river brings darkness to India—the black river.”
-Balram Halwai (The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga)
A debut novel that won the 40th Man Booker Prize Award, The White Tiger is a story set amidst the modernisation of India and its ascend towards a more global outlook. Narrating a tale of loyalty, corruption, the disparity between social classes and a commentary on the upheaval that such an individual undergoes, the diegesis is recounted through the eyes of Balram Halwai, our grey-shaded protagonist. Through letters to the Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao who was en route to the Silicon Valley of our country, Balram walks him through his birth into lower social strata and his climb to the top rung of the economic ladder. From a disgruntled villager to the contented founder and CEO of White Tiger Technology Drivers.
A film adaptation of the same graced a few theatres and Netflix which was directed and written by Rahmain Bahrani, a close friend of Adiga. Starring Adarsh Gourav, Rajkumar Rao, and Priyanka Chopra Jonas to name a few, it opened to positive reviews from many critics who praised their performances. Subtle differences lay between the book and its retelling on the silver screen.
The movie starts with the turning point of Balram’s life in the novel – the accident scene after which he retraces his steps to his hometown and destitute family. Using a cold open is an unconventional approach and if done right, it enraptures the audience's attention and leaves them wanting for more. Bahrain was struck by this idea whilst penning down the second draft of the script and used it to keep Balram’s personal motives privy until the second half of the film.
Using emails rather than letters the choice to deviate from the source material was one that reflected the changing times that the story was adapted. Jiabao’s decision to visit Bangalore and meet the local entrepreneur’s acts as a catalyst, prompting an eager Balram to express his desire to greet and enlighten him about his underdog journey. Towards the end of the film, Balram is shown to be anticipating the arrival of the Premier outside a building and he succeeds in procuring a handshake from him though he is barely acknowledged. The book does not appease the viewers in such a way instead it leaves them questioning the supposed meeting that our homegrown entrepreneur is keen on having.
Introduced via hasty camera cuts, Balram is depicted to be resentful of his current living circumstances and vies for a superior quality of life. Given the moniker, ‘White Tiger’ by an education inspector impressed with his intelligent nature Balram is constantly referred to as the elusive animal by the other characters in the book. Forced to recant his education to financially support his cousin's wedding and after learning about the price that plutocrats pay for drivers, our leading man invests in driving lessons. After being rejected by numerous people, he finds himself at one of the landlord’s houses and is able to finally secure a job.
The film offers a different account of the events that unfold. Due to his father’s debts, Balram is forced to give up his education and work at a tea stall. His choice to become a driver was fuelled by the news of the landlord’s son Ashok returning to India who is in need of a chauffeur. The relationship that Ashok and Pinky, his wife share with Balram has a more humane approach to it with the latter being asked about his aspirations and hopes for the future. With Pinky’s birthday celebrations, things soon take an awry turn. The accident is distinctly represented in the film and paints a vivid picture of the girl’s death; however, the book does not incorporate the same elements.
The aftermath of the incident is handled similarly in both the tales with Pinky walking out on Ashok resulting in continuous alcoholic stupors and binges. Offering a different perspective, Balram is shown to eavesdrop on a conversation about him being replaced, one that does not appear in the book. Ultimately making up his mind to kill his master after repeated hallucinations of him bashing his skull in, the technique in which Balram commits the deed is depicted in a disparate manner. In the book, he is initially hesitant to proceed with his plan but somehow gathers his courage to complete it. The film nevertheless interprets him to be confident with his resolve and easily slits Ashok’s throat before hysterically driving away.
The conclusion of Balram’s journey in the book and film is one of the similar pattern with him arriving in Bangalore and opening an enterprise of his own. He does so after observing a dearth of call centre cars reiterating his acute sense of awareness and unexplored academic potential that rightfully bestowed the White Tiger alias on him. In a signoff that may surprise viewers, the hero of his own peregrination, Balram assumes a new identity to run his flourishing business: Ashok Sharma.
Aravind Adiga explored a facet of topics in his entry into the literary world. By acclimating the novel to the big screen, the film tackled issues of intergenerational poverty and systematic class inequalities and further delved into the convoluted relationship of power dynamics between a servant and his employer. Despite the dissimilarities that the film offered, its portrayal of a grim reality that is often overlooked in lieu of opportune prospects was one that was lauded with various nominations at diverse film festivals.