The story revolves around Salim, who is born at the stroke of midnight on August 15, 1947. His every act is mirrored and magnified in events that sway the course of national affairs; his health and well-being are inextricably bound to those of his nation; his life is inseparable, at times indistinguishable, from the history of his country. Perhaps most remarkable are the telepathic powers linking him with India’s 1, 000 other “midnight’s children, ” all born in that initial hour and endowed with magical gifts.
The narrator produces meaning seemingly out of nothing, to exploit the liberating power of the signifier. Here’s an excerpt from the book: "The colors are there the green and black her hair is green her teeth are black the Widow stands above high as the sky the sky is black her skin is green children screaming walls are green blood is black and she reaches out and little balls the night is black but children torn in half I look and see the Widow green but I am black the children run their screams are black her hand is green it touches my face is green her nails are black she smiles and I am green my blood is black she is hunting searching skin is green love is black I want out but children grabbed and little balls and the Widow looks for me she grabs but no little balls the sky is black but fear is green."
Albeit this book was written in 1981, 34 years ago, and mired in controversies, it is still considered to be one of the best works and is still included in many of the top 100 best book lists around the world.
I read this book around 6-7 years ago, probably as a SST project and was swayed by the author’s creativity, imagination and command over the language. It was only after reading this book that I took up writing as a serious hobby.
I can only wish that one day I will be able to write something akin to this book.