Storeroom Under the Stairs

In a Kolkata gripped by climate disaster and food shortages, Ma, her father Dadu, and her toddler Mishti prepare to leave for America. Their home, fortified by the foresight of Dadu's late wife, is a rare oasis—solar panels, rainwater tanks, and a storeroom of food, some of it quietly taken from the shelter where Ma works. As they pack, the city outside is desperate, its markets empty, its people hungry. Ma's husband waits in Michigan, having secured climate visas for the family. The promise of escape is real, but so is the guilt and anxiety of leaving behind a city and a life, and the knowledge that their good fortune is built on small acts of theft and luck.

Seven Days to Departure

The family's final week is a blur of preparation and anticipation. Dadu, nostalgic and fearful, clings to the city's humor and chaos, while Ma is pragmatic, focused on survival and her daughter's future. Mishti, innocent and demanding, craves "flowerflower" (cauliflower) and the comfort of routine. The city's past famines haunt their thoughts, and the present is no less precarious. The family's privilege is underscored by the suffering around them—at the shelter, in the markets, on the streets. Yet, the promise of America, with its abundance and safety, is a beacon that both comforts and unsettles.

The Thief in the Night

Boomba, a young man displaced by climate catastrophe, breaks into the house, driven by hunger and the memory of seeing Ma steal from the shelter. He squeezes through the kitchen window, guided by deprivation and a sense of justified theft. He takes food, a toy truck, and, unknowingly, the family's passports. The act is both survival and retribution—a collision of two forms of need. Boomba's life, shaped by floods, loss, and the relentless search for security, mirrors the family's own, but from the other side of fortune's divide.

Passports Lost, Hope Frayed

Morning reveals the theft: the storeroom is empty, the passports gone, and Ma's phone is missing. Panic sets in. The police are indifferent, suspecting insurance fraud or minor hoarding. The consulate is bureaucratic and cold—without a police report, the visas are canceled. The family's carefully constructed escape unravels. Dadu's optimism falters, Ma's guilt deepens, and Mishti's small world is shaken. The city, indifferent and chaotic, offers no comfort. The family is forced to confront the fragility of their plans and the limits of their power.

The City's Many Faces

Ma and Dadu turn to Mrs. Sen, their eccentric neighbor, whose security camera captures the thief's image. The search for Boomba becomes a journey through the city's layers—rickshaw drivers, shopkeepers, activists, and the poor. Each encounter reveals a different Kolkata: one of resilience, one of bitterness, one of nostalgia, and one of survival. The city is both home and adversary, a place of laughter and violence, generosity and theft. The family's privilege is constantly in tension with the city's suffering.

The Search for Boomba

With a blurry image and a handful of clues, Ma and Dadu navigate the city's informal networks. They barter, plead, and follow rumors, encountering those who have been both victims and perpetrators of theft. The search is as much about reclaiming their future as it is about understanding the city's new moral order. The boundaries between guardian and thief blur—everyone is both, in some measure. The city's crisis has made survival a collective, if uneasy, endeavor.

Bargains and Betrayals

Ma's search leads her to the city's underbelly—a photocopy shop that forges passports, a network of fixers and scammers. She trades her mother's gold for the promise of new documents, knowing the risk and the shame. Meanwhile, Boomba returns, demanding the house in exchange for the lost passports. Both are trapped by their own compromises: Ma by her theft from the shelter, Boomba by his need to provide for his family. Their confrontation is tense, each holding the other's future hostage.

The Feast on the Hexagon

Boomba, needing a child to gain entry, takes Mishti to the billionaire's floating hexagon for a charity feast. The event, meant as a display of generosity, becomes a scene of chaos and looting as the city's poor seize food and medicine. Mishti, bewildered and frightened, is swept along. Boomba's act is both care and exploitation—he feeds her, protects her, but also uses her as a ticket. The city's desperation boils over, and the boundaries between charity and violence dissolve.

Hunger, Violence, and Return

The aftermath of the feast is chaos: the ferry sinks, people drown, and Boomba and Mishti barely escape. They return home, soaked and traumatized. Dadu, enraged by the kidnapping, beats Boomba and drives him out. The family is fractured, their sense of safety shattered. Dadu's health declines, Ma is consumed by guilt and exhaustion, and Mishti is left with scars she cannot name. The city, once again, is indifferent to their suffering.

Dadu's Last Day

Dadu, weakened by injury and grief, dies quietly in his sleep. Ma is left to manage the aftermath—cremation, mourning, and the care of Mishti. The house, once a shelter, is now a tomb of memories. Ma's grief is compounded by regret—did she ever tell Dadu she loved him? The city's rituals offer little comfort. The world outside continues, but inside, Ma and Mishti are adrift.

The House Divided

With Dadu gone and the family preparing to leave, Boomba and his family seize the house. Ma, desperate to reclaim her home, confronts them with violence. The confrontation is brutal—Ma is gravely injured, and the house becomes a site of mutual destruction. The dream of escape is replaced by the reality of displacement. Both families are left with less than they began, their hopes consumed by the struggle for survival.

The Final Confrontation

The struggle for the house ends in tragedy. Ma, wounded, is left helpless; Boomba's family is haunted by what they have done. Mishti, caught between worlds, is taken by Boomba, her future uncertain. The cycle of guardianship and theft continues—each act of protection is also an act of harm. The city, and the world, offer no easy redemption.

The Airport That Wasn't

Ma, with forged and then recovered passports, finally reaches the airport, only to find all flights canceled. The world outside has closed its doors—America, once a beacon, is now unreachable. The crowd of would-be emigrants is left stranded, their hopes dashed by forces beyond their control. Ma must return to the city, her journey unfinished, her future uncertain.

The New Owners

Boomba's family moves into the house, claiming it as their own. The victory is hollow—the house is damaged, the city is still in crisis, and the moral cost is high. The dream of security is always just out of reach. The cycle of displacement and longing continues, as new owners inherit old wounds.

The End of Shelter

The story closes with the recognition that there is no true shelter—only temporary havens, always at risk. The city, the house, even family, are all fragile. The characters are left to endure, to find small moments of beauty and connection amid loss. The cycle of guardians and thieves, of hope and betrayal, is unbroken.

The Cycle Continues

The novel ends with the sense that the story is not over. The city will endure, its people will adapt, and new stories will be written. The boundaries between guardian and thief, between home and exile, are ever-shifting. In the face of disaster, the only constant is the human drive to survive, to protect, and to hope.

Characters

Ma

Ma is the novel's emotional anchor—a mother determined to secure a future for her daughter, even as she is haunted by guilt over her small thefts from the shelter and her complicity in a system of privilege. Her love is practical, often stern, but deeply felt. She is torn between duty to her family and responsibility to the city's poor. Her journey is one of increasing desperation, as she bargains, pleads, and ultimately resorts to violence to protect her child and her home. Ma's psychological complexity lies in her capacity for both compassion and ruthlessness, her willingness to bend morality for survival, and her enduring hope in the face of loss.

Dadu

Dadu is Ma's father, a man rooted in the city's past, sustained by humor, poetry, and memory. He is both wise and naïve, clinging to the belief in the city's resilience even as it crumbles. His love for Ma and Mishti is unwavering, expressed through small acts of care and storytelling. Dadu's decline—physical and emotional—mirrors the city's own decay. His death is a turning point, leaving the family unmoored. Psychologically, Dadu embodies the tension between tradition and change, between hope and resignation.

Mishti

Mishti is Ma's two-year-old daughter, whose needs and desires drive much of the family's action. Her craving for "flowerflower" (cauliflower) becomes a motif for lost abundance and innocence. Mishti is both a source of joy and a burden—her vulnerability heightens the stakes of every decision. She is largely unaware of the adult world's dangers, but her experiences—kidnapping, hunger, loss—leave marks that she cannot articulate. Mishti represents the future, both endangered and resilient.

Boomba

Boomba is a young man displaced by climate disaster, whose journey from rural village to city is marked by loss, hunger, and failed attempts at honest work. His theft from Ma's house is both necessity and revenge—a response to a world that has repeatedly failed him. Boomba's psychological arc is one of increasing cynicism and moral compromise, but also of longing for family and home. He is both victim and perpetrator, guardian and thief, embodying the novel's central ambiguity.

Boomba's Mother

Boomba's mother is a survivor of rural hardship, whose pragmatism and resilience shape Boomba's worldview. She is skeptical of the city's promises, wary of too-good-to-be-true opportunities, and focused on the immediate needs of her family. Her relationship with Boomba is both nurturing and demanding—she expects him to provide, but also fears for his safety. She represents the generational burden of survival.

Boomba's Father

Once a strong and capable man, Boomba's father is diminished by injury and loss. His inability to protect or provide haunts him, fueling both shame and anger. In the novel's climax, he becomes an unlikely perpetrator of violence, striking Ma in a moment of fear and confusion. His psychological journey is one of impotence and regret, a man undone by forces beyond his control.

Robi

Robi is Boomba's younger brother, whose health and happiness are Boomba's primary motivation. His innocence and dependence heighten the stakes of Boomba's actions. Robi's presence is a reminder of what is at risk—not just survival, but the possibility of a future unmarked by trauma.

Mrs. Sen

Mrs. Sen is a single woman with parrots, whose security camera becomes crucial in the search for Boomba. She is both comic relief and a symbol of the city's diversity—quirky, independent, and ultimately generous. Her house, like Ma's, is both refuge and target, vulnerable to the city's chaos.

The Billionaire

The billionaire funds the shelter and hosts the hexagon feast, her charity both genuine and self-serving. She is largely absent from the narrative, but her influence is pervasive—her wealth shapes the city's possibilities and resentments. She represents the limits of philanthropy in the face of systemic crisis.

The Forger

The forger operates out of a photocopy shop, selling fake passports to desperate emigrants. He is both a symptom and a cause of the city's moral collapse, preying on fear and need. His interactions with Ma highlight the erosion of trust and the pervasiveness of scams in a world where official channels have failed.

Plot Devices

Duality of Guardian and Thief

The novel's central device is the fluidity between guardianship and theft—every act of protection is also an act of taking. Ma steals from the shelter to feed her family; Boomba steals from Ma to feed his. The city's crisis forces characters to cross lines they once thought inviolable. This duality is reinforced by parallel narratives—Ma's and Boomba's—each illuminating the other's choices and justifications. The device challenges readers to question easy distinctions between right and wrong, victim and perpetrator.

Fragmented Narrative Structure

The story unfolds through short, episodic chapters, each focused on a different character or moment. This structure mirrors the chaos and fragmentation of the city itself, and allows for deep psychological insight into each character. The use of phone conversations, flashbacks, and interludes (such as "Baba's America") adds layers of meaning and emotional resonance.

Symbolism of Food and Shelter

Food—especially cauliflower—recurs as a symbol of lost abundance, innocence, and the basic human need for security. The house, with its storeroom and upgrades, is both fortress and prison, a site of comfort and conflict. The struggle for food and shelter drives the plot and shapes every relationship, highlighting the precarity of survival in a collapsing world.

Foreshadowing and Irony

The narrative is laced with foreshadowing—references to past famines, warnings about the fragility of plans, the ever-present threat of violence. Irony abounds: the family's escape is undone by the very systems meant to protect them; acts of charity become scenes of chaos; the house, so carefully preserved, becomes a battleground. The ending, with the canceled flight and the house's new occupants, subverts the expectation of resolution, leaving the cycle of hope and loss unbroken.

Analysis

is a searing meditation on survival, morality, and the collapse of social order in the face of climate catastrophe. Megha Majumdar crafts a narrative where the boundaries between right and wrong, guardian and thief, are constantly shifting—each character is both protector and perpetrator, shaped by forces beyond their control. The novel interrogates the illusion of safety and the cost of privilege, exposing how even small acts of self-preservation can have devastating consequences for others. Through its fragmented structure and vivid, empathetic characterization, the book captures the chaos, humor, and heartbreak of a city on the brink. The story's refusal to offer easy redemption or closure is its greatest strength—readers are left to grapple with the uncomfortable truth that in a world of scarcity, survival often demands compromise, and hope is both a lifeline and a weapon. The lesson is clear: in times of crisis, the lines between guardian and thief blur, and the only constant is the human drive to endure, to protect, and, against all odds, to hope.

Last updated: November 11, 2025