Deven believes that by modeling himself after Nur, his hero who mastered Urdu poetry, he can attain India's past glory. Because Deven adopts himself as a victim, he cannot actualize his goal. He exemplifies a self-contradiction because he teaches the Hindi language yet longs to revive the Urdu language: "Those Congress-wallahs have set up Hindi on top as our ruler. You [Deven] are its slave. Perhaps even a spy even if you don't know it, sent to the universities to destroy whatever remains of Urdu, hunt it out and kill it" (Desai 42-43). Deven cannot preserve the glory of his country because he fails to recognize the truth in front of him. In bad faith, he hides behind his mask of weakness to escape responsibility.
Deven's acts of bad faith permeate every level of his existence:
Every effort he had made had ended in defeat: most of the poems he had written and sent to Murad had been rejected, his monograph never published; his wife and son eyed him with blatant disappointment; nor had he won the regard of his colleagues or students. The inherent weakness in his father that had made him an ineffectual, if harmless, teacher and householder, had been passed on to him. He felt it inside him like an empty hole, one he had been staring at all his years, intimidated by its blackness and blankness. Even his attempt to fill it with a genuine and heartfelt homage to a true poet, a man who had disadtinguished himself as he would have liked to do, had been defeated by all the obstacles that sprang up in his life like shards and pebbles sent up at every step. (128)
By hiding behind Nur's glory, Deven denies himself humanity and individuality. He cannot even support his family in a society where the man is the breadwinner. He rarely makes choices for himself; he does not even chose his wife: "she had not been his choice but of his mother and aunts" (Desai 67). By rationalizing excuses for his self-contradictions, Deven retracts the rare choices or resolutions he does make:
Although Deven had resolved to spend nothing on extras, to keep only the most essential expenditure, he was led by the teashop owner's suggestion just as helplessly as he had been led by Murad's, and he shambled in�he did, after all, need something to see him through the most momentous day of his adult life. (28)
He lacks the will to actualize his thoughts, something exemplified when he wears the shirt his wife's parents bought him, the same shirt he threw on the ground because he disliked it so much:
He had tossed it on to the floor in an obligatory fit of temper -- the meek are not always mild -- saying the colour was one he detested, that the buttons did not match, that the size was too large-how could they have chosen such a cheap garment for their son-in-law? This morning he had ordered her [his wife Sarla] to take it out for him to wear on his trip to Delhi. . . . Again the nylon shirt responded with an electric crackle, as if it were an embodiment of Sarla's malice and mockery. (24-25)
These events characterize Deven as an inauthentic character without the will to change his situation.
His unattainable actions and thoughts constantly traps Deven, as emphasized by the title In Custody. He becomes "a trapped animal. In his youth, he had had the illusion of having free will, not knowing he was in a trap. Marriage, a family, and a job had placed him in this cage; now there was no way out of it (Desai 131). Failing to recognize that he trapped himself, Deven believes that these constructs have trapped him. He blames others as a way to evade responsibility for his situation. Like Deven, Oscar from Peter Carey�s Oscar and Lucinda cannot take responsibility for the outcome of events; instead, through gambling, he leaves the outcome up to God: "The penny was a sign from God. Heads. He had to take the job" (Carey 293). Consistent with his character, Deven misses opportunities to gain control of his life: "The days were slipping by like some kind of involuntary exudation, oozing past. He seemed to have no control over them, or what occurred during them" (Desai 149). Although Nur�s poetry "contained all the enchantment and romance he [Deven] had ever experienced in his life," he fails to preserve the poetry. (Desai 110) "Desai�s narration shocks us by relating that Deven, who has found himself devastated and depressed by the experience with his idol, also feels �relief and gratitude� at his failure�because it relieves him of the need for striving further" (George P. Landow, "Deven as Anti-hero," Postcolonial web). Because he regards himself as a failure, he makes success an unachievable burden.
Deven's meek character began in his childhood, "All through his childhood and youth he had known only one way to deal with life and that was to lie low and remain invisible" (14). Deven constantly wants to disappear behind his mask of weakness because it protects him from feeling the hurt of failure. Beyond this desire, he wants to die: "The student leaping out of the bushes with a knife would be a simple solution, one to be hoped for by comparison" (Desai 202). The crushing weight that nobody cares if he exists produces his longing to die.
He strives to find purpose in his life by connecting with Urdu poetry, which represents the glory of his culture's past. He believes that Nur�s poetry can give him purpose: "It was not Nur's name that was bringing about this transformation, it was his genius, his art. And Deven now had the wherewithal to capture and preserve that art, that verse, for posterity. He had been allotted a role in life" (106). Hiding behind Nur's strength, he still fails to properly record Nur�s poetry. Deven escapes responsibility for the project�s failure by blaming the outcome on the resources given to him. He lies to himself that he took the recording job from Murad because it interested him; in truth, he longed for the fame and fortune. (Desai 188-189) He fails to acknowledge that reputation will not solve his problems.
In bad faith, he never sincerely attempts to rise above his problems:
He lay there wishing he could lead the rest of his life in this near-unconscious state. He hoped his former life of non-events, non-happenings, would be resumed, empty and hopeless, safe and endurable. That was the only life he was made for, although life was not perhaps the right term. He needed one that was more grey, more neutral, more shadowy. He sifted through alternatives like torn pieces of grey paper, letting them fall to the floor of his mind with a whisper and bury him in sleep. (Desai 183-184)
Without hope for change, Deven prefers to live as a death wish. His epiphanies, which provide "solace and meaning for Deven�s life," give the reader glimpses of hope. (George P. Landow, "Structure and Theme in Anita Desai�s In Custody, Postcolonial web) His climactic epiphany occurs when Deven sits on a bench in Delhi and looks out at a mosque:
The enormous arches doorway soared upwards to the dome which rose like a vast bubble that the flat earth had sent out into the dusty yellow-grey sky, a silent exhalation of stone. It was absolutely still, very serene. It was in fact the silent answer to his questioning. Since it was silent, he could not hear it. But he felt it impress its shape upon his eyelids, very gently, very lightly, like fingertips pressing them to sleep. Gradually the sky disappeared, the sun and light and the glare, and the shape became clearer and sharper till it was all there was, cool, high-minded and remote. (Desai 192)
The mosque symbolizes the way of thought he cannot comprehend, proving the limitations of his aesthetic beliefs. Predictably, this epiphany brings Deven nowhere.
Exemplifying a character in bad faith, Deven believes he created a role for himself, without realizing that once again, he traps himself:
He had imagined he was taking Nur�s poetry into safe custody, and not realized that if he was to be custodian of Nur�s genius, then Nur would become his custodian and place him in custody too. This alliance could be considered an unendurable burden, or else a shining honour. Both demanded an equal strength. (Desai 203)
