Monday, December 23, 2019
TAKING SIDE…. I AM CHOOSING…(the whole and not a selective piece)
TAKING
SIDE…. I AM CHOOSING…(the whole and not a selective piece)
I was remembering the movie Taking Sides (by Istvan Szabo) today. It
was based on the legendary German conductor and composer Wilhelm Furtwangler. The
movie, (and by no means I would claim that it was great cinema) was an interesting
one which made me think a lot on the issue of “taking stand” and indeed had a
lot of promise (if only Harvey Keitel’s character had not been over the top)
In the movie Harvey Keitel plays the role of Maj. Steve Arnold who
sets up an enquiry against Furtwangler, accusing him of being a Nazi
collaborator. Furtwangler, an artist and the one who played for Hitler, Goebbel,
was close to them, however portrays himself and reasons for him as having
humanitarian values but was not in a position to take a stand. And then there
are few instances he recalls of him having helped Jews or speaking against
certain policies. However Maj. Arnold was unconvinced… and rightly so… he couldn’t
believe and exclaims loudly.. “ when millions of people were being sent to
concentration camp to die, to be exterminated, when the LEADER was spewing
hatred, then he was leading concerts…” The
high-art-matters-more-than-anything argument is the one Furtwängler clings to
as his excuse for thinking that he could detach himself from the gruesome
realities of Nazism…
I felt the
movie could have played with much more nuance… but the argument it brings forth
is true.. something which even Bernhard Schlink also speaks of in The Reader.
In the last
few days, the current situation is making me remember this movie. Especially
when I read those who in their good hearts are forwarding links to call out the
fears and the protests unwarranted and how a strong nation needs to hold itself
against “infiltrators” and for that citizens need to gear up. That CAA is fine
and its only against persecuted, (oops sorry religiously persecuted minorities)
from 3 neighbouring countries and hence one community/religious representation
is missing, since they are majority, so on and so forth…
Now enough
has been said and written on this to refute and explain. E.g. Bangladesh is a
secular democracy, yet we are saying (and this may be true) that there are tortured
Hindus there… saying this about the only friendly neighbouring country may be. Geopolitics
is not played with nuance and astute political consciousness!! Its fine. In fact
today I find a video which is supposed to speak to the Muslim brothers (mind
you- only men since only men go to protests it seems) who are dressed as per
all stereotypes showcasing majoritarian patronising attitude but with no facts…
but that I will write about later (tomorrow may be).
What I want
to question though are the following (and only a few)…
1. 1. When one is trying to assuage fear or attempt
to call the protests as baseless or needless, saying “they are not after Muslims”,
who are they speaking to?
a.
Muslims
b.
Protestors
c.
Themselves
2. 2. Is there a them and us in this?
a.
Like we don’t need to fear and
b.
They (the Muslims) also should not be fearing
3. 3. Is it only about the logistics of NRC or..
a.
The symbolic isolation of a particular
community in a particular bill
b.
The invoking of need for NRC for the “protection
of the country” from whom?
c.
And isn’t it about understanding and engaging
with a “constitutional ethos” which calls for a lens of humanity, equality and
equity?
And now comes (may be long-winded) my point of remembering the
movie. Whenever we are trying to explain or justify CAA or NRC, which side are
we taking? Since it is about taking sides right? CAA, NRC is not a disjointed,
isolated issue which someone has pinned to the notice board. Its part of the
political ideology and manifesto of a party who makes no qualms about their
position when it comes to religious majoritarianism. Are we saying that ’92 Babri
demolition and the Rath yatra never happened? (and yes please don’t get into
the whataboutery of “what about then of this party who also… etc. etc.) or rampaging
universities, a collective effort of suppressing intelligentsia (excellence) in
the name of mass or rather bargained, suited, loyal mediocrisy… these did
happen right?
So are we claiming that the policies have no connection with the party
ideology. I will refuse to see CAA with NRC only. I will see this in the light
of their political ideology and question this. And yes indeed its about taking
sides. Though we are free to change sides, if only we can get over our
majoritarian complex and hubris.
Again, whose fears are we assuaging? Who are we saying not to
worry and to trust? Is there still a chance of “them”…. Like “ I am telling them,
not to worry?”…. remember as long as you do this, you are speaking from a
position of privilege, externalizing risk. And you have taken a side…
For me its personal… those who know something about me will know
that… I am writing for myself… I am writing for I am scared… I am writing since
I know that something which was once told in an embarrassing tone “ we wont
rent out to Mohammedans”, will now be said as a right… (since we don’t know who
will be infiltrators right and we have to protect the country from them)… and I
don’t want that… I don’t want as a woman to show my lineage, my fathers
certificates to prove my rightful existence… I refuse to do that…
And then again trust… that’s the issue… when you personalize the issue,
looking at the protesting youth or anyone, you understand, engage, empathise. Then
only you can see that trust is not built with an article, a notice, a video
post. Its built over the years through outreach, love, truth, activities. If we
have seen people from my community being lynched and killed for their “eating
choices”, if I have felt isolated, treated as an outsider, no PR campaign can create
trust within me….
So by choosing to endorse or accept CAA and NRC is fine… but remember
this is YOUR STAND and history will always see you “taking a side”… and not as
an apolitical social media user… Also when you choose, you choose the whole…. Always…
Labels:
CAA,
isolation,
majoritarian,
NRC,
right,
right-wing
Thursday, April 21, 2016
Women’s stories: Finding voices
Women’s stories: Finding voices
Short Stories are always enchanting, captivating you within
its ebbs and flow and ten leaving you with an aftertaste. Its too personal a
premise often, not overplay of characters, but then peaks the emotions higher
and reverberates with you.
And what if these are stories by women, of women, or
different parts of the world, or different countries of South Asia and even
Iran. Can we discover a common thread amidst the myriad emotions?
The four books, and reading and re-reading them, made me
stir in serendipity, joy of discovery and familiarity of emotions.
The books are:
1.
Neither Night nor Day- 13 stories by Women
Writers from Pakistan
2.
Galpa- Short stories by Women from Bangladesh
3.
Afsaneh-Short Stories by Iranian women
4.
Katha- Short Stories by India Women
The title story of Neither Night not Day is remarkable. In
fact it speaks of identity and the struggle with it. Often we embrace one and
feel proud about it in one context and the next moment are too embarrassed to
carry it. Sabyn Javeri-Jillani’s short story speaks about this Pakistani women,
now married to a British, settled in London and yearns for mangoes and
Biriyani. Her access though to get them from the well-guarded ghettos, are not
easy, a constant reminder clashing with her identity. The ending of the story
is beautiful, she looks at the grey London sky, and sees the Sun and the Moon together
at 7 p.m. and thinks, well in London, let them shine together- which quite
explains immigration, the yearning for it by many.
Muneeza’Shamshie’s
The Heathen Air speaks of colonization but more of patriarchy in the
guise of it. Colonization happens with the urge to captivate. Men any which way
are too eager to do so. The royal born princess with all her grandeur is as
equally oppressed as the maid in her chambers. She has no say to keep her son
with herself and not send him to England for education. The interesting part is
the men are often surprised at finding the women even having any opinion about
themselves.
The Job Application by Nayyara Rahman, shows the class
difference in the Pakistani society. In Bath Island, a young aspiring typist,
struggling to get a job is almost dismissed, imagining her inability to cope
being a single mother. In fact her life was thought over, dissected in front of
her, one who had come with hopes of earning a few thousand more. And when being dismissed, she wonders “they didn’t
even offer a glass of water”.
Galpo, the Short stories by Women in Bangladesh, is my
favorite collection. It starts with an excerpt from Sultana’s Dream by Rokeya
Shekhaway Hussain. Sultana’s Dream speaks of an imaginary Woman’s Land, where
now there exists a Mardana Mahal. There are very interesting sections, where
someone ponders that men are too restless for embroidery. We all now know that
merely changing status-quo wont make lives any better, since patriarchy will
still sustain in the name of oppression, however, the thought of the story,
written in the 1920s is incredible.
One of my favorite story from the collection
is The name of the story is Troubles by Razia Mahboob.
The story
starts with a slice of domestic life of Sarkar Sahib, a high profile social
worker, being nagged by his superstitious wife. She sees troubles everywhere in
her life since morning, with increased electricity bills, son's marriage,
uninvited guests, domestic help quitting the job. The Man of the household
leaves her amidst these "petty chores" and comes back in the evening
with a problem at hand. The tenants next door, have a scandalous past. In fact
the colony people suspects that they are not married as a couple and hence
needs to be evicted. They refused to show marriage deed. To this, the wife
remarked that, hardly any marriages have a deed. And what is the need for such
harassment. And its not easy to evict tenants- they may resort to legal aid.
Sarkar Sahib replies, that they have already started packing, since the regular
stone-pelting, boycotts, heckles are too much, they can cope up. And when
asked, what is he doing as a social worker- of course he is analyzing the
situation, two meeting failed, since the person are too adamant and not ready
to budge from not showing marriage deed. And since the local mosque is involved
and many other landlords, its a difficult situation to solve by not alienating
anyone... His wife listened and this is what she did- (excerpt- a few lines
from the story)
Next day,
everyone heard in amazement the way Sarkar Sahib's wife had gone over to the
couple's house and scolded them openly. " I may be your distant aunt,
shameless girl. I cannot look after all my relatives, but i was there at the
wedding. May be my present was not to nice. Is that any reason not to look up
your aunt?"...
and when
later asked by her husband, for carrying out this "irreligious act of
lie", she simple retorted... " I can hardly bear all my troubles...
how can i bear the trouble of seeing something wrong.."
That's it... and there was nothing
else.
and this is hope. We know, we must
know, when and how to act... and to keep on listening to that authentic voice,
which makes you one with the other, or them with you... is the only hope... its
non-paternalistic, liberating and above all.... embraces love...
Radha will not Cook Today is another
gem.. Radha, a mother of a
4 year old, with her husband, mother in law, sister in law, mundane
domesticity, chores, duties, bickering was fine... All in a rhythm, till one
fine morning she decided she will not cook... For no apparent reason.., and how
that created an ugly stir in the household... a short story titled in Bangla as Arandhan by Purabi Basu
speaks about agency, coercion... And the false facade called peace and love in
a family... All in humour...
In
Afsaneh, the story which wins me over is Goli Taraqqi's The Shemiran Bus- reminded me of Kabuliwala by Tagore...
Every child finds a friend in the most unlikeliest of spaces... Transcending
class, caste, geography...bonding from the heart... Mini the 5 year old
daughter of a middle class Bengali Family in Kolkata found her friend in Rahmat
from Kabul, the big, fat Kabuliwalkah... Goli Taraqqi's little girl in Tehran
finds the same in Aziz Aqa the bus driver... Her genie of the magic lamp...
Feelings transcend all...
The stories in Afsaneh, do speak about the repression on
women in Iran, but sounds universal, across. It’s the longing of the women in
words, description of their lives, its mundanities, failed dreams and often surprises
and yearnings, which make them seem so known, so true and so vivid.
And in Katha, the collection of Indian Stories, The one on
Kava and Kavi is indeed interesting- the tribal context of bride price
explained as the way of captivating the free-spirited mind of Kavi through
gilted gold and jewellery.
My favorite is the story by Ambai. Too many emotions. Story
of three women, feminists, with now broken dreams, how they believed the world
will be, and now facing communal violence. Excerpts of the strory:
"Those were times when they faced everything
with an energy that said, ‘You can’t define us. We will break your definitions,
your commentaries, your grammars, your rules.’ They felt an urgency to defy
everything. She and Sakina had gone to a Chinese beauty parlour and had their
hair cropped close to their heads. When she went home, Ramu only asked, making
no fuss, ‘Well, Selvi, was it a pilgrimage to Palani or to Tirupati?’ ‘Neither;
it was to China,’ she told him. Lively times, those
were." ........
"‘This is going to be a huge battle, Charu,’
she said. ‘It begins with someone else giving me an
identity.’"....,.........
"Roshni, Light, I have strung together for you fifty years of doubts, rebellions, battles, struggles. This is only a song. When I write an epic for you – and I will write it one day – I will speak of all this in detail. But don’t think the song is complete. It is true communal violence, caste-wars and human degradation have all dispirited us greatly. But our battle continues. We still raise our voices to safeguard rivers, trees and animals. To safeguard human beings, above all. You will hear in this song, resonances of our joy, despair, disappointments and exhilaration. Sleep well, Roshni. And when you wake up, let it be to the sound of our song. You and I and many others must complete it. For we believe that a song, once begun, ought to be completed".....Excerpts from A Movement, A Folder, Some Tears.. Why do you make me cry every time I read you....???...every single time...
"Roshni, Light, I have strung together for you fifty years of doubts, rebellions, battles, struggles. This is only a song. When I write an epic for you – and I will write it one day – I will speak of all this in detail. But don’t think the song is complete. It is true communal violence, caste-wars and human degradation have all dispirited us greatly. But our battle continues. We still raise our voices to safeguard rivers, trees and animals. To safeguard human beings, above all. You will hear in this song, resonances of our joy, despair, disappointments and exhilaration. Sleep well, Roshni. And when you wake up, let it be to the sound of our song. You and I and many others must complete it. For we believe that a song, once begun, ought to be completed".....Excerpts from A Movement, A Folder, Some Tears.. Why do you make me cry every time I read you....???...every single time...
Arupa patangia Kalita’s story viz. Numoli’s story is
based out of Assam during the Ulfa insurgency. Numoli the doe-eyed simple
Assemse girl seems to be the earth, surprised and scared and violated by
violence and oppression, all claiming their parts and bleeding the earth. Its
lyrical and beautifully written.
Bulbul Sharma;s Mayadevi’s London Yatra is
interesting. And Meenal Dave’s Nightmare, is another little star. Speaking
about the divisiveness we suffer within and how that transcends with one peck
at the back, is something Nightmare deftly puts.
This theme of women leading estranged
and desperate lives in a patriarchal and oppressive society is the thread that
connects almost all the other stories in this collection.
Sunday, April 10, 2016
Home, Sparks and Splinters- Matchbox
Writing about Stories by Ashapurna Debi, Translated by Prasenjit Gupta
Two Debis ruled my literary preferences, amongst the women
writers writing in Bengali- Ashapurna Debi, whom my mother admired and the
other Mahashweta Debi- who my father loved. In fact my father was almost dismissive
of Ashapurna Debi as someone lacking a serious line of discourse. Yes, she indeed
appealed to women, for she wrote about the home and hearth, apparent trivial
issues in family between women, conflicts and mundane. Mahashweta, baba (my
father) found much more political. She was writing about caste and class, was
writing stories about rural Adivasi women, bringing their saga to the
forefront, strong feminist, leftist views. And mind you, I must be 12 or 13
then when I had finished reading Pratham Pratisruti, Bakul Katha and in fact
had cherished the autograph my mother had secured from Ashapurna Debi in her
college days. And I thought I lacked political understanding then. So reading
Draupadi or about Titu Mir, often I found troublesome, unrelatable. Whereas,
Ashapurna’s stories I could see playing all around me- within the house,
between the people I know well. Of course I did not have the maturity to
understand that what I am thinking is a strong political argument. Tilottatama
Majumdar, Bani Basu, Suchitra Bhattacharya and other women writers came to my
life a little later and by that time I have been exposed somewhat to discourses
of feminism, but through western writings. I never looked back at Ashapurna,
till a couple of months back when I came across this book- collection of short
stories by Ashapurna Debi, translated by Prasenjit Gupta, titled matchbox. I settled to read and found such strong
political voice in the story. This of course comes to me at a time when I sort
of understand the blurring line between personal and political. Feminism is
against this heteronormative patriarchal system. And this starts at the home
and the family. One cannot fight the battles outside without starting
negotiating at home. And there comes the challenge.
The tittle story Matchbox is brilliant and in fact there in the
last few lines, Ashapurna summarises with aplomb, which feminism movement has
understood long back, but failed to address, failed to keep the anger
contained-
“This – this is precisely why I compare women to
matchboxes. Even when they have the means within themselves to set off many
raging fires, they never flare up and burn away the mask of men’s
highmindedness, their large-heartedness. They don’t burn up their own colourful
shells. They won’t burn them – and the men know this too. That’s why they leave
them scattered so carelessly in the kitchen, in the pantry, in the bedroom,
here, there, anywhere. And quite without fear, they put them in their pockets”
In fact this is the catch, which perpetrates sexual division
of labour, impedes property rights and many such things which forms the metrics
of the broad level understanding of gender discrimination.
Matchbox
or Deshlai Baksho is the story of Nomita, the rage, her
potential to flare up in splinters like the matchbox, and then containing all
of that, for that illusive social prestige of “happily married ever after”. Ajit’s
Namita’s husband is often intrusive, hides her letters, disrespectful without
knowing to the needs of her impoverished mother and family. Nomita,
understands, is angry about all these, and however succumbs to her internal
need of a better world, with a roof and family. And I think we know enough
women like Nomita- who in reality have nothing to lose, but are fearful of a
loss, which has so cleverly conditioned in them from the beginning.
Oishorjo or
Wealth- the first story of the collection is an interesting one. In
fact it is intriguing as well which shows the strength of a woman in a conjugal
relationship. She is aware of her
husband’s philandering ways and nonchalant about it. In fact it’s her
irreverence that causes much heartburn amongst the other women in the family,
who are unable to sympathise on her great loss of wealth- love of her husband.
Oporna is a remarkable character here- who knows that love of her husband often
is a transactional relationship between a couple bound in a marriage. She had
much more to herself, the aura, her self-respect. However, isn’t she too at a loss?
This systemically created dignity also had come to her at a great personal
sacrifice- but then every fight for self, calls for sacrifice doesn’t it?
Du-Shahoshik
or Foolhardy, is a story which makes me think of who is the one who acts
out this fool-hardiness, this act of bravery? Partho re-intrduces Otonu, again
to his wife Sheema, who happened to me Otonu’s ex. However the triangle all
want to defy their inner insecurities and try out a new act of bravery? Why is
it? To become larger than themselves. When asked by Sheema, whether he ever
feared losing out, Partho said “ If I’m afraid even now of losing to
that boy, and I have to live always on my guard- it’s very much better to be
defeated and die”.. And to me now this story becomes something
more than just Partho’s act of bravery. In fact he was putting their fidelity
and marriage on test. Was Sheema an approver of the act? No, but she did have
her say and her voice as well.
Another of my favorites in Ponkhi Mohol or Bird Palace. No
other story can bring out this interplay of emotions and anguish of one woman
older in age, against the other now set to replace her in the finely crafted
house of cards called patriarchy. The feuds would remain confined to these
women, without both of them realizing that whoever wins, the loss is equal on
both their parts.
Shok
or Grief, one of the best in the collection. Shoktipodo and Protibha, through their act of
defying emotional urgency, delayers the facades of filial ties and
responsibilities, showing the hollow fakeness lying within. The news of
Pratibha’s mother’s demise was held up by Shoktipodo cleverly, since he didn’t want
to get delayed for the first day of the month to office, He really wishes the
news to play out at his convenience. And Protibha too holds up her exuberance
without the absence of someone to share her grief. The selfish treachery of each
other, almost known to one another, but still they play out their roles to the T-
that’s what Samsaar is.. Maybe...
It’s needless to mention that I have come to love Mahashweta
more, but credit also goes to her presence even in academia and subaltern
studies. However, today I am surprised, why we never look back at Ashapurna
Debi and bring her into feminist discussion circles… since writing about home
for her meant also to offer home as the sanctuary and shelter as well as the cage
for binding desires. And for different people, with interplay of emotions and
power structures, home means to be different, patriarchal archetypes
controlling the strings.
Labels:
ashapurna debi,
feminism,
prasenjit Gupta,
short stories
Saturday, April 9, 2016
Personal is Political- these stories reverberate...
Stories have always had a very strong relation with me.
Books have been my best companions and since childhood, growing up in a Bengali
household, short stories have dominated my love and longing. I still remember
the magazine “Desh”, which we used to subscribe. My mother and my aunt would be
busy following up the sequence of the novels (I think those were the days of
Pratham Alo and I was in school, in
primary classes), while I used to look forward to short stories. The novelty of
idea, the fast pace and the lingering aftertaste, which baba (my father) used
to quote as “” Shesh Hoiao Hoilo na Shesh”.. always stayed with me. The short
stories written by the English writers came to me later and then too I read O
henry and Oscar Wilde. Contemporary English authors like Jack London and even
Fitzgerald, I read much later. But Bangla short stories and thereby the authors
seemed too lucrative and too loving a territory for me. We used to subscribe to
Anandomela as well, but the short stories in Desh and in the Puja Barshikis
were something I coveted for always. And
soon, Subodh Ghosh (his 3 volume short stories I still carry along with
shifting cities), Tarashankar, Bibhutibhushan and my all-time favorite Manik
Bandopadhyay came along. Travelling in
different cities, settled somewhere where access to Bangla books are less, and
of course having circle of friends from all over the country, having a spouse
who doesn’t read Bengali (I am married to a Kashmiri), made me love these
stories even more as anecdotes, I mentioned to these friends. And often
struggle to find translations. How would I ever be able to explain the
phenomenon called Parashuram to anyone, who is not oriented to the warp and
weft of the language, its wry humor?
These days, I am delighted to see so much of translation
works happening and thanks to Arunava Sinha. Half of the books by Bengali
authors that I have gifted to my non-bangla reading friends have been his
translations. Hence needless to say, the moment I saw this book published, with
an interesting title- The Greatest Bengali Stories Ever Told,
I downloaded the Kindle version and now that I am done, I want to speak of few
of the stories which have moved me completely. Not that I haven’t read them
earlier. Narendranath Mitra’s Ras I had read and so did Ashapurna Devi’s story,
still in this collection few stories just stand out for me, with multiple
possibilities..
They are:
·
Einstein and Indubala (Bibhutibhushan
Bandopadhyay)
·
Thunder and Lightning (Ashapurna Devi)
·
Ras (Narendranath Mitra)
·
News of Murder (Moti Nandy)
·
India (Ramapada Choudhury)
Of all these
stories, the first fours almost weave and complement each other, as I try to
look at them from the perspective of Personal is Political.
Well personal is
political is an essay by Carol Hanische, an interesting piece written
to analyze the feminist movements and its peripherals. Hanische through her
experiences found that often women groups were criticized of bringing the
issues of their personal life into political discourses. And the second wave of
feminism tries to argue and dismiss the concept of both being different. In fact
why more and more women were not joining the movement was because the
liminality was not clear to them and they found the movement theoretically too
conceptual to be of any use to their lives at home. Personal is indeed
political at every sphere and for the feminist movement more so, since every
single experience of oppression or love that the woman goes through is a result
of an all-encompassing patriarchal system and hence to make someone understand the
system and to defy it, be angry or have the desire to break the shackles, it’s
important to engage with her through her home and personal life and family.
Hanische said (aptly)- “One more thing: I
think we must listen to what so-called apolitical women have to say—not so we
can do a better job of organizing them but because together we are a mass
movement. I think we who work full-time in the movement tend to become very
narrow. What is happening now is that when non-movement women disagree with us,
we assume it’s because they are “apolitical,” not because there might be
something wrong with our thinking. Women have left the movement in droves. The
obvious reasons are that we are tired of being sex slaves and doing shitwork
for men whose hypocrisy is so blatant in their political stance of liberation
for everybody (else). But there is really a lot more to it than that. I can’t
quite articulate it yet. I think “apolitical” women are not in the movement for
very good reasons, and as long as we say “you have to think like us and live like
us to join the charmed circle,” we will fail.”
This has stayed with me since the time I read Hanische and
her essay and others speaking on the same area. And I now try and look into
things which speak about this strongly.
These stories to me bring back the gender lens.
Interestingly Einstein and Indubala, many may
disagree with me and I when had read it first, had typified it as a sexist
story in parts often (quite wrongly). At multiple instances the story refers to
the decision of everyone especially the males to go and see Ms. Indubala’s
performance alibi the women’s demand. This angered me, since even today such
stereotypes exist be it in office or at home. However now when I reread it and
in the light of Hanische, it seems so political to me and refreshingly so.
Einstein with all his knowledge and his idea of space can be of no interest to
women or men of a different class, the non-intellectuals, and I am not invoking
caste here. However together they all represent whom is the question and whom
do they choose? It is pertinent today especially in a majoritarian democracy
where doles and benefits seem to be a political choice of winning votes, shall
we raise our noses demeaning the choice of many (which I do often) or try and
see the political significance of the choice of others. Women find Indubala
more endearing than Einstein, someone they may not even have heard. Rightfully
so, since he doesn’t even understand them, doesn’t try to engage. In fact he
really thinks that French pamphlets will work in India? Einstein hasn’t reached
their home and their hearths. However, somehow Indubala’s presence also seem to
liberate the men from their façade, alibi accompanying the women. This story in
fact is the icing on the cake.
Ashapurna Devi, stands for her stories set in the private
spaces- home and family. She always presents a slice of intimate lives within the
4 walls of the home, the daily chores, the interplay of relations, with the woman
at the centre. In the introduction to Prasenjit Gupta’s collection of Ashapurna
Devi’s short stories Jhumpa Lahiri mentions: “The home itself, as both physical setting and symbolic space, is the
most central feature of Ashapurna Debi’s stories, and it frequently plays a
complex and contradictory role. At times the home represents an adversary, a
physical prison, a site of constraint beyond which the truth about a family
cannot be disclosed. At other times her stories endorse the home as a haven, a
refuge representative of ownership, comfort, and escape, which protects the
individual from the danger and disorder rampant in city life. This polarized
notion of home, as both prison and sanctuary, provides perpetual grist for
Debi’s fictional mill”.
Thunder and Lightning is no exception. However here the
protagonist Bula almost poses a very political question through living her
personal life and her choice of financial access. Bula, the rejected wife and the
ever-servile daughter-in-law leaves her in-laws house to join films. The family
disowns her, however is seen at an interesting quagmire when she sends money
order. And this also exposes the biggest question- is financial independence
the way to woman’s liberation, so called economic empowerment, or its merely a negotiation
tool, softly buying and bribing existence- since the so called inherent right
to dignity is not there. Also for Bula, home and her access to family become
symbolic of her existence-the lines between oppressors and the oppressed
becomes blurred here.
Ras by Narendranath Mitra
again brings forth this question of economics in marriage or family. This translation
was published earlier in Caravan (http://www.caravanmagazine.in/fiction-poetry/ras)
However in this rural economic setting there is more to the story that mere economics
and games around it. This is equally the story of two distinct women- Majubi
and Phulbano, women who were open and unabashed about their choices and their
desires. That is incredible. Phulbano seeks divorce from her first marriage due
to her dissatisfaction with an older husband and Majubi, being divorced by
Motalef, is clear about her options. The interesting part of the story is, one
cannot distinctly side with anyone. At one point I may hate Motalef with his
schemes and transactions, however did Majubi doesn’t appear to be a victim.
This interplay is what made Ras remarkable to me.
News of Murder by Moti Nandy
reminds me of an essay I read sometime back about the anxiety that all women go
through in fear of violence of any form. It said that the fear of rape
permeates our lives. And the social
stigma associated with it. The cage seems to suffocate the living. Bibha’s
paranoia was brought upon by her family and its confines. A small news on the newspaper,
having the name of the victim same as he name, got the family fussing over her
apparent security and more of saving their honor at the cost of her impending
confinement. Something I think women go through at every point in their lives.
India by Ramapada Choudhury
of course needs to be looked with a different lens. The last few lines, is still
going through my mind- “The train left. But everyone at
Mahatogaon turned into beggars. All those people who lived off the soil- all of
them had been turned into beggars”. Isn’t this something too well known to all of
us- we may not even need the Americans throwing off coins as amusements. There
are structured organizations to do the same, banks, UN agencies with doles and
schemes, with good intentions of helping communities. This reminded me of Damisa
Moyo, the African author and economist who writes critically of the aid
culture, ripping communities of their rights and dignities in the pretext of
help. This is indeed a very interesting piece
and I am planning to use this as a story for discourses on development,
sometime in a group.
However, it’s a very interesting collection
and of course contributed to making my Saturday a great one.
Skills for Life--Dilemma, conflict, truth, humanity…Children’s books tugging at the strings of your heart
Skills for Life--Dilemma, conflict, truth, humanity…Children’s books
tugging at the strings of your heart
Moral Science can often be a boring lesson at school, unless few
teachers wanted to make it interesting, by bringing stories and the questions
associated with them- what do we think right or wrong? Suddenly as a 9 or 10
year old, to be asked about our thoughts and decisions used to be a big deal,
engaging us in discussing with each other, falling upon our limited experiences
but with clairvoyance and of course giving us the agency. Stories did that very
well. Suddenly putting yourself into the shoes of those characters and trying
to think as you would in those space and time, made me imaginative and of
course my ever-lasting love with stories was inevitable. I remember once when
we were discussing one particular story Elves and the Shoemaker, especially
when the happy shoe-maker loses his peace when he was no longer needed to toil
hard for a leaving. At the age of 8 or 9, I really could not understand why
would one lose his peace when he gets all he wanted and still wanted to work
hard. What was it that was missing and so dear to the shoemaker even amidst his
penury. Those were the years of innocence and tinted glass, where you want to
wipe out sorrows and pain from everyone and you look at poverty only through the
angle of a single story- the story of deprivation and oppression, and not the
story of inherent human dignity. Even now, elves and the shoe-maker intrigue me
a lot, especially now when I somewhat know the development sector and the fund
dependencies as an adult.
However how do to bring curiosity and question to the young minds. To
not give them answers and make them imaginative thinkers. Especially when it
comes to intrigues like right or wrong- not to make them followers but seekers.
And isn’t seeking a skill for life?
I always look for books which bring forth such dilemma, especially
when it comes to children and I have a few to speak of.
Satyadas by Bimal Kar – adapted by Katha with beautiful illustrations.
Stayadas doesn’t tell clearly about a moral practice but poses a
question. Its about Raghunath, running a small grocery store in a small colliery
town of Bengal. He struggles to make ends meet, however is not bereft of
empathy towards fellow human beings. This inherent sense of human connect
prompts him to give shelter to Satyadas, a stranger peddler on a rain soaked
evening. Satyadas goes away next day, but leaves back some gold coins and thus
his part magic presence becomes temptation to Raghunath. Raghunath waits for
Satyadas to be back for days and then in utter need, he falls back on these
jewels. The stones symbolise the eternal clash between good and evil, while the
six gold coins embody the six seasons. A year later, and after Raghunath has
spent the gold coins, Satyadas returns. This time he is an embodiment of
conscience. For when he goes away, he leaves behind a guilt-ridden Raghunath.
The author portrays Raghunath’s inner conflict skilfully as he battles with the
demons inside him and debates the rightness or otherwise of having taken
someone else’s money. However indeed we may side with Satyadas and understand
Raghunath’s act as that of treachery, dishonest. However, was Satyadas for
real, never claiming his possessions and what would one in the place of
Raghunath do, when it comes to the question of survival or keeping up with the times?
Even for an adult with absolute stand and clarity between right and wrong,
black and white the book with lovely charcoal illustrations give a sense of
grey. Would be interesting to know how a young reader will think about this.
Pinti Ka Saboon:
Pinti Ka Saboon is another interesting story based now in Kumaon, in a
small hamlet at the foothills of the Himalayas. The little hamlet was indeed
aware of fragrant soap- they had seen Pinti, the once stationed army officer’s
daughter using it and leaving a trail of fragrance behind. But none in the
village ever possessed one, till Hariya won a nicely packed and wrapped piece
of pink soap. Possessing something which none had, gave him a sense of power
and alienation. The relations coveted to him now seemed to him as a threat, who
would try and dispossess him of his new-found treasure. This engulfed him. The
simple Himalayan foothill village suddenly becomes a place of conspiracy,
threat and enmity for him. And it also brings in a cloud of unrest amongst
others in the family and village. Something they were happily unaware of in
their equal status quo of not having. A very interesting story, for all. And for
children, for all that we often covet, it’s a cue to make us think, all that we
want, are we ready to share it with everyone?
Curfew
Curfew again is a story of inherent human bonding. Posted in the
conflict ridden city of Shrinagar, soldiers in charge of curfew, suddenly find
themselves in an awkward position. They become one and all with the citizen’s
struggle to carry on with life, with the natural ebb and flow, sometimes
picking up ball for a crying infant or passing food from one house to the other
across the street. They find themselves torn at the inner war within them to
listen to the call of life and its demand, or to bring in the iron hand, alibi
ensure peace and security. This is
something which should be introduced to young people, to make them understand
the multiple possibilities, the existence of multiple stories..
Ek Anmol Sathi ke Liye
Ek Amnol Saathi ke liye is more about moral courage and taking a stand.
A young impoverished painter gets a commissioned work- his make or break in
life, to pain Buddha, with all animals in the universe barring cats. The guy
however had a pet cat and had a unique relation with the little cat, who was
his only friend. In the eyes of his little friend, he saw the desire to be
included into the canvas and he decided to go ahead, to place the little cat
with the all forgiving Lord. Once discovered, the monks were furious. However
once the portrait was revealed, it showed Buddha placing the cat on his lap,
showing the universe has a place for all. It’s a beautiful story by Rosalind
Wilson adapted by Katha.
Aapni Aapni Pasand
Vijay Dan Detha’s story are part magic, part folklore. Katha’s
adaptation of the story through beautiful illustration is interesting yet
thought provoking. As an adult there are different angles to look at the story.
The story is about two women a florist cum gardener and a fisherwoman. One fine
day they meet and decide to swap their places. For few days they remain happy,
till they start missing their old professions, the smell of fish, the scent of
flowers. If I want to look at it from an angle of caste and class, this will be
a little unacceptable for me, where somehow the story ends with both going back
to their old states-However there can also be a more philosophical way of
looking into this, related to the core belief or value of one self. Would be
great to know how children will look and think of this.
Fledolin
Fledolin is the story of the little bat who almost embarrasses his
community by defying what is considered normal or natural. He doesn’t enjoy
hanging upside down. The illustrations are immensely engaging where it is seen
everything upside down is normal and Fledolin on the other side. The parents
and other bats are wary of his future, till the local yo-yo competition comes,
where Fledolin’s deftness to deal with gravity helps him to win. This is
interesting to raise self-esteem and also to question what is normal finally.
Wings to Fly:
This is a beautiful book of little Malathy, pinned to the wheel-chair,
but wit hopes to win competitions though running. This is in fact the story of the
remarkable disabled athlete Malathy Holla.
These books give the scope to imagine, think, and question. Why a bat should
not hung upside down, will also give the trust to hope that a girl in he
wheel-chair can win races, its possible. Multiple possibilities and stories
exist. Soldiers not only kill but are also human beings, and Kashmir is not a
place of militants but also of children who want to play in the streets. Its
fine to win gifts and ask for more, but like Pinti, will more not make way for
having less love within me for all around me. Also shall we not listen to the voice
within our hearts, our authentic voice, since right or wrong as Satyadas said, “
you know within yourself”… and hence reading these books can also be a journey
of seeking….
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Mitro Marjani...Of Desire and Longing..
As women are we supposed to have desires? Carnal? And if so, how do we express and long for it.
Krishna Sobti in her 1964 book Mitro Marjani created Mitro aka Sumitravanta,
the wife of the middle son of a mercantile joint family as if to speak it out..
so out of her times and ways.
Mitro is unabashed about her desires and longings. She feels
that her body, her beauty has more to it that merely be an obedient house-wife
and suppressing wishes. Hence she engages in verbal as well as physical battles
with her husband. She is an odd-one out. However the interesting part is the family
which although wary and repulsive accepts her frankness. Mitro speaks about sex
openly and in fact gets angry at the hypocrisy of keeping things under the wraps. In fact this is her power, which makes her
husband lash at her, her in-laws to keep a distance away from her.
And I wonder what make Sobti write about Mitro. Mitro also
has a mother who is open about her desires, to the extent, she being a widow is
almost jealous of her daughter and her proximity to her husband. Where have we
seen such female protagonists- so full of desire? In fact in many novels of those
times and even now, we find the protagonists repentant and almost to do penance
for this kind of carnal longing or even longing for an identity. This reminds
me of Grihadaha (by Saratchandra) and in fact even in Tagore’s novels, the one
who desires, is almost plotted as the one who creates anarchy and even Tagore couldn’t
handle anarchy….
Wish there were more Mitros and that would have changed the
dialogues and discussions in a household..
Saturday, April 2, 2016
Magic, Madness, Colors and Eternal Strengths of Humanity
Growing Up in Pandupur (Aditi and Chatura Rao)
Amie and the Chawl of Color (Chatura Rao)
The Burmese Box (Lila Majumdar)
The Yellow Bird (Lila Majumdar)
Eid stories
These are books for children and there are books for all. For me, these 5 books are for all ages, some recreating nostalgia and magic and others reminding us the eternal strengths of love and humanity.
Growing Up in Pandupur is an interesting work. Apparently seen as a collection of 13 stories are linked to each other. Its about a township growing up along the banks of the Dhun river and the river has its own song saying..
"..Of humans who came and cleared and farmed...
home to the native farmer...
then came the traders beady eyed man, to sell the farms,...
The Government said to build a dam...
.... and
with engineers came their families..."
This is the story of any township in India, growing and accomodating more and more people whereas the natives, the forests keep on getting pushed outside. Pandupur has railway station, schools, but then there are different kind of schools right?- One where the engineers will send their kids and another where the natives (read tribals) will send their children. One interesting story is warm and fuzzy which speaks about this. This is indeed a warm collection, which may make us ponder over our ideas of growth and development even through stories of a fictitious township.
Amie and the Chawl of color is almost like Dorothy and the wizard of oz, however here it is metaphorical. we know Amie too well and her chawl as well in the city named here Doombay(we know what in real the city is called right!!) Now suddenly Amie's chawl and particularly Amir faces a great crisis. The little bit of sun that managed to creep inside Amie's small pigeon hole of a room, faces threat from entering.due to the billboard set up and the prospects of many such billboards blocking and taking the hues out of their lives. (can we remember what is happening to the Mumbai chawls, the threat from builders..) Amie loves her mother and also the others in the chawl, the microcosm of the cosmopolitan Doombay and takes things to her hands to meet Shah of Vibgyor bring colors back.. part adventure and part magical.. this is a beautiful book.
The Burmese Box and The Yellow Bird.. by Lila Majumdar are lovely reads (the original read by me much earlier in Bangla) The gifted storyteller that she was.. Lila Majumdar has deftly woven treasure chests and detective stories with magic realism. The Scheming Podi-pishi dies lamenting for her lost jewellery box and then adventures cloud up around the box. Whereas Jhogru mixes imagination and myth into the yellow bird to attain the impossible.
Eid stories are my all time favorite. This is a collection of stories circling round the festival of Eid. Paro Anand's story speaks about taking a stand against bullying and weaving integrity and inclusivity in schools. My favorite is Sweets for Shankar by Aditi Rao- taking cues from an incident where a young Muslim boy met Gandhiji during his rounds of appeal for communal harmony to stop riots post partition. This young Muslim boy, puts his life on threat to pass on sweets for Eid as promised to his friend Shankar, something the poet fictitiously created as if was a re-assurance to the Father of the Nation to have faith in Humanity in those dark days of madness.
Highly recommended for all to read..
Amie and the Chawl of Color (Chatura Rao)
The Burmese Box (Lila Majumdar)
The Yellow Bird (Lila Majumdar)
Eid stories
These are books for children and there are books for all. For me, these 5 books are for all ages, some recreating nostalgia and magic and others reminding us the eternal strengths of love and humanity.
Growing Up in Pandupur is an interesting work. Apparently seen as a collection of 13 stories are linked to each other. Its about a township growing up along the banks of the Dhun river and the river has its own song saying..
"..Of humans who came and cleared and farmed...
home to the native farmer...
then came the traders beady eyed man, to sell the farms,...
The Government said to build a dam...
.... and
with engineers came their families..."
This is the story of any township in India, growing and accomodating more and more people whereas the natives, the forests keep on getting pushed outside. Pandupur has railway station, schools, but then there are different kind of schools right?- One where the engineers will send their kids and another where the natives (read tribals) will send their children. One interesting story is warm and fuzzy which speaks about this. This is indeed a warm collection, which may make us ponder over our ideas of growth and development even through stories of a fictitious township.
Amie and the Chawl of color is almost like Dorothy and the wizard of oz, however here it is metaphorical. we know Amie too well and her chawl as well in the city named here Doombay(we know what in real the city is called right!!) Now suddenly Amie's chawl and particularly Amir faces a great crisis. The little bit of sun that managed to creep inside Amie's small pigeon hole of a room, faces threat from entering.due to the billboard set up and the prospects of many such billboards blocking and taking the hues out of their lives. (can we remember what is happening to the Mumbai chawls, the threat from builders..) Amie loves her mother and also the others in the chawl, the microcosm of the cosmopolitan Doombay and takes things to her hands to meet Shah of Vibgyor bring colors back.. part adventure and part magical.. this is a beautiful book.
The Burmese Box and The Yellow Bird.. by Lila Majumdar are lovely reads (the original read by me much earlier in Bangla) The gifted storyteller that she was.. Lila Majumdar has deftly woven treasure chests and detective stories with magic realism. The Scheming Podi-pishi dies lamenting for her lost jewellery box and then adventures cloud up around the box. Whereas Jhogru mixes imagination and myth into the yellow bird to attain the impossible.
Eid stories are my all time favorite. This is a collection of stories circling round the festival of Eid. Paro Anand's story speaks about taking a stand against bullying and weaving integrity and inclusivity in schools. My favorite is Sweets for Shankar by Aditi Rao- taking cues from an incident where a young Muslim boy met Gandhiji during his rounds of appeal for communal harmony to stop riots post partition. This young Muslim boy, puts his life on threat to pass on sweets for Eid as promised to his friend Shankar, something the poet fictitiously created as if was a re-assurance to the Father of the Nation to have faith in Humanity in those dark days of madness.
Highly recommended for all to read..
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)