Wednesday, April 28, 2021

What happens when you don't love your neighbour

Sailen Routray


Katherine Boo (August 12, 1964 - Present)
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons

At the centre of the non-fictional account of the book Behind the beautiful forevers (from now on BTBF) lie an event, a trial, and a question. The event is the self-immolation by Fatima, a resident of the Annawadi slum in the Mumbai suburb of Andheri, nestling on the edges of a sewage lake near the city airport. 

The trial involves Karam Husain, his right-minded son Abdul Hakim Husain, and his dutiful daughter Kehkashan, and concerns Fatima’s false accusations against the Husain family. 

And the question is this – in the relentless pursuit of neoliberal development where does the quest for justice stand, and what effects does an unjust society have upon ethical imagination of its members?

In many ways BTBF is the story of vicissitudes in the lives of two families that are for all practical purposes headed by two women; Asha and Zehrunisa (the wife of Karam Husain). Asha’s family belongs to the kunbi caste, and has migrated from the Vidarbha region of Maharashtra. Zehrunisa’s family is from Uttar Pradesh, and comes from poor, conservative Muslim stock. 

Asha’s husband is a hopeless drunkard, and Asha manages to raise the family fortunes by a mix of guile, petty corruption and politicking. She is also an active member of the local sakha of the Shiv Sena. Zehrunisa’s family, at the beginning of the narrative, stands poised on the brink of a rise. 

Propelled by international demand for scrap, high rates of economic growth in India, and the skills of her son Abdul in sorting and dealing with garbage, the family has a flourishing trade in scrap and garbage, and has managed to put the deposit on a piece of land in a development scheme in a distant Mumbai suburb.

Then the fortune of the Hassan family turns. Their one-legged neighbor Fatima, insanely jealous with their schemes of home-improvement, tries to frame them by burning herself a little and accusing them of the deed. But this goes completely out of hand and she burns herself grievously. 

Karam, Abdul and Kehkashan get arrested because of her accusations, and a large part of the narrative is about the family’s travails with the criminal justice system. The book shows with mind numbing clarity (with the goings on in the Sahar Police Station as a case) the marketplace that the Indian criminal justice system has become.

But this is also a story of childhood and innocence; of Sonu who never steals, wakes up at the crack of dawn, and studies in the night after a day’s hard labour as a garbage picker; of Abdul who wants to be the 'good ice' and not the 'fetid water' that he sees all around him in Mumbai; of Noori (Fatima’s eight-year-old daughter) who does not lie about the details surrounding her mother’s death. 

But such innocence does not seem to travel well into adulthood, and life in this Mumbai ‘undercity’ seems all about competition, envy and private hopes and griefs. The neoliberal remaking of the city seems to have made the poor into classic economic agents where neighbour’s envy is owner’s pride, and the miseries of one’s fellow human beings seem to provide the gloss for the shine of one’s fortune.

What is lost in the process is a sense of public good, of an ethical space in which collective griefs and hopes can be articulated without being subsumed within narratives of hurt and offence.

This book does not ‘soar above’ the lives of its protagonists. With meticulous research and documentation it occupies the crevices between the hopes, fears and desires of the people of Annawadi, and gives us understanding and insight that are to be gained by observing intimately a small social space with passion, commitment, and empathy.

Bibliographic Details: Katherine Boo. Behind the beautiful forevers: life, death and hope in a Mumbai undercity. New Delhi: Hamish Hamilton. 254 pages + xxii (Hardcover). Rs. 499.

Note: A different version of this review essay was first published in the newsmagazine 'Hard News' in 2012. 

Tuesday, April 27, 2021

ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ା ସମୋସା କି ?

ଶୈଲେନ ରାଉତରାୟ


ଫଟୋ କ୍ରେଡ଼ିଟ୍ - ୱିକିମିଡିଆ କମନ୍ସ୍

ଓଡ଼ିଶା ସାରା ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ା ଏକ ଲୋକପ୍ରିୟ ଜଳଖିଆ । ଏହା ଉତ୍ତର ଭାରତୀୟ ସମୋସାର ଏକ ପ୍ରକାର ଭାବରେ ଧରାଯାଏ, ଯଦିଓ ଏଥିରେ ଦ୍ୱିମତର ସମ୍ଭାବନା ରହିଛି । ପୂର୍ବ ଭାରତ ଅର୍ଥାତ୍, ଓଡ଼ିଶା, ଝାଡଖଣ୍ଡ ଓ ପଶ୍ଚିମବଙ୍ଗ ହେଲା ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ାର କ୍ଷେତ୍ର । ସମୋସା ତୁଳନାରେ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ାର ଖୋଳ ଟିକେ ପତଳା,  ଓ ଏହା ଅଧିକ କଡ଼ା ଛଣାଯାଏ ।

ଓଡ଼ିଆ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ା ଗଢ଼ିବା ବେଳେ ମଇଦାକୁ ଦଳିଲାବେଳେ ଦଳାର ପାଗ ଖାସ୍ତା ଲୁଚିଠାରୁ ଯଥେଷ୍ଟ କଡ଼ା ଆଉ ନିମକି ଠାରୁ ଟିକେ ନେସେମାଏ ରଖିବାକୁ ପଡ଼େ । ବେଲିଲା ବେଳେ ତେଲର ବ୍ୟବହାର କରାଯାଏ । ଓଡ଼ିଆ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ାର ଖୋଳ ପତଳା । ତେଲକୁ ଥରେ ଫୁଟିବା ପର୍ଯ୍ୟନ୍ତ ଗରମ କରିଦେଇ, ଗଢ଼ା ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ାଗୁଡ଼ିକ ଏଥିରେ ଛାଡ଼ି, ଧିମା ଆଞ୍ଚରେ ଏଗୁଡ଼ିକୁ ବହୁତ ସମୟ ପର୍ଯ୍ୟନ୍ତ କଡ଼ା ଛଣାଯାଏ । ଏହି ସବୁ ପଦ୍ଧତିଗତ ବାଗ ଯୋଗୁଁ ଓଡ଼ିଆ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ାର ଖୋଳ ଅନେକ ସମୟ ପର୍ଯ୍ୟନ୍ତ ଟାଣ ରହେ । 

ଏ ପର୍ଯ୍ୟନ୍ତ ବି ପୁରୁଣାକାଳିଆ ଓଡ଼ିଆ ଜଳଖିଆ ଦୋକାନିମାନେ ଉପରବେଳା କାମ ଆରମ୍ଭକଲା ବେଳେ ହିଁ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ା ଛାଣନ୍ତି । ମାନେ ଓଳିକେ କେବଳ ଥରେ । ତାଙ୍କ ପାଖକୁ ଡେରିରେ ଗଲେ ସନ୍ଧ୍ୟାରେ ଆଉ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ା ମିଳେନାହିଁ । କାରଣ ତା'ପରେ କମ୍ ଆଞ୍ଚରେ ହାଉଲେ ହାଉଲେ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ା ଛାଣିବା ପାଇଁ କଡ଼େଇ ଆଉ ବହୁତ ସମୟ ଯାଏଁ ଖାଲି ପାଇବା ପ୍ରାୟତଃ ସମ୍ଭବ ହୁଏ ନାହିଁ । 

ଓଡିଆ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ାର ଆକାର ମଧ୍ୟ ଛୋଟ ହେବା କଥା । ଏହାକୁ ବଡ଼ବଡ଼ କଲେ ମୁସୁମୁସୁ ରହେ ନାହିଁ । ଛୋଟ ବୋଇଲେ ତିନି ଆଙ୍ଗୁଳିଠାରୁ ବଡ଼ ନୁହେଁ । ବଡ ଆକାରର ସିଙ୍ଗିଡା ସିଙ୍ଗିଡା ନୁହେଁ, ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ା ଆଉ ସମୋସାର ବିଚିତ୍ର ନବଗୁଞ୍ଜର । 

ସାଧା ଓଡ଼ିଆ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ାର କଟକି ଓ ସମ୍ବଲପୁରୀ ଭେଦ ରହିଛି । କଟକି ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ାରେ ପୁର ଭାବରେ ଚୁନାହୋଇ କଟା ହୋଇଥିବା ଆଳୁ, ଚିନାବାଦାମ, ଓ ମଟର ଜୀରାଲଙ୍କା ଗୁଣ୍ଡରେ ହାଲକା ଭଜା ହୋଇ ପଡିଥାଏ । ସମ୍ବଲପୁରୀ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡାର ପୁରର ସାମଗ୍ରୀ କଟକି ସିଙ୍ଗିଡାରୁ ଭିନ୍ନ ନୁହେଁ: ମାତ୍ର ଏଥିରେ ସିଝା ଆଳୁର ଚକଟା ପୁର ପଶେ, ଭଜା ହୋଇ ନୁହେଁ ।

ଏହି ଭିନ୍ନତାର କାରଣ ବୋଧେହୁଏ ଏହି ସିଙ୍ଗିଡା ତିଆରି ପରମ୍ପରା ଦୁଇଟିର ଭିନ୍ନ ଭିନ୍ନ ମୂଳ ଅଟେ । ଉପକୂଳବର୍ତ୍ତୀ ଓଡିଶାକୁ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ା ବୋଧହୁଏ ଆସିଛି ବଙ୍ଗଳାରୁ ଓ ପଶ୍ଟିମ ଓଡିଶାକୁ ଏହା ସମ୍ଭବତଃ ଆସିଛି ମଧ୍ୟଭାରତ ଦେଇ ହିନ୍ଦୁସ୍ତାନରୁ । ବଙ୍ଗଳାରେ ନିରାମିଷ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡାରେ ଭଜା ପୁର ପଶେ ଏବଂ ମଧ୍ୟ ଓ ଉତ୍ତର ଭାରତରେ ଏଥିରେ ଚକଟା ପୁର ପଶେ । ଏହା ବୋଧେହୁଏ କଟକି ଓ ସମ୍ବଲପୁରୀ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡା ଭିତରେ ଥିବା ପ୍ରଭେଦର କାରଣ ।

ଯଦିଓ ଆମିଷ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ା ଓଡିଶାରେ ଅଜଣା ନୁହେଁସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ା କହିଲେ ଓଡିଶାରେ ନିରାମିଷ ସିଙ୍ଗିଡ଼ାକୁ ହିଁ ବୁଝାଯାଏ । ଭାରତର ପ୍ରାୟତଃ ଏବେ ସମୋସାର ପୁର କହିଲେ ଆଳୁ ହିଁ ବ୍ୟବହାର ହେବାର ଦେଖାଯାଏ । ହେଲେ ଏହି ଠା'ଟିର ଭାରତରେ ଇତିହାସ ସାତଶହ ବର୍ଷରୁ ବେଶି ପୁରୁଣା, ଏବଂ ପ୍ରାଚୀନତମ ଉଲ୍ଲେଖରେ ଏହାର ପୁର ମାଂସ । ଆମେ ଏହାକୁ ଏକ ଭାରତୀୟ ଖାଦ୍ୟସାମଗ୍ରୀ ଭାବେ ଗ୍ରହଣ କରିନେଇଥିଲେ ହେଁ, ଏହି ମତ ନିର୍ବିବାଦୀୟ ନୁହେଁ । ଅନେକ ତତ୍ୱବିଦ୍ ଏହାକୁ କେନ୍ଦ୍ର ଏସିଆର ଆମଦାନୀ ବୋଲି ମତ ଦିଅନ୍ତି । ହେଲେ ସେ ବିଷୟରେ ଆଲୋଚନା ଆଉ କେବେ ।  

Saturday, April 24, 2021

The Sky is a Name 

Bharat Majhi

Translated by Sailen Routray

 

Painting - 'Green Peaks under Clear Sky: After Huang Gongwang'
Artist - Wang Yuanqui (1642-1715)
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons

Why would the sky know that
I lost my way in Habaspur
on that not so fateful day?
 
Why would the sky know that
the tree that my grandmother had planted
in the corner of our backyard
has grown to lean over
the house of her favourite enemy?
 
Why would the sky know
that much blood has flown
since this country tasted freedom.
 
Much has been written about the sky.
But I feel
that the sky is just another name
like Rupalekha, Sita, or Narottama.
 
I have not met the sky,
and, as such, I like very few of the folk 
that I end up meeting.
 
Now you’ll enter the realm 
of planets, stars, galaxies and the moon.
You’ll explain geographies and genealogies and show 
that the sky has a different character
in each season.
 
But you’ll conveniently forget
to enumerate the number of clothes
that a folk needs to count as a man.
 
Sir!
You are the kind 
that watches the sky.
And I am the type 
that gets lost in Habaspur
and, watches trees grow
and friends dragged 
to the slaughterhouse.
 
Why would I love
someone with a character
who will die a painful death 
sans the silly mysteries propping it up?

NoteThis translation was first published in issue number 287 of the magazine Indian Literature in May-June 2015. The poet, Bharat Majhi (born in 1972 in Kalahandi), works in an Odia language media house in Bhubaneswar. He has published nine volumes of poems in a poetic career spanning more than three decades. Amongst other recognitions, he has won the Bhubaneswar Book Fair Award in 2008 and the Sanskriti Award in 2004. 

Sunday, April 18, 2021

କାନ୍ଥରେ ଗୋଟେ ଝରକା ରହୁଥିଲା

ବିନୋଦ କୁମାର ଶୁକ୍ଲା

ଅନୁବାଦକ - ଶୈଲେନ ରାଉତରାୟ


ସ୍ପେନ ଦେଶର ଗାଲିସିଆ ଅଞ୍ଚଳର ପୋର୍ତୋ ଦୋ ସନ୍ ଠାରେ ସ୍ଥିତ ବାରୋନା ଦୁର୍ଗର ଅବଶେଷ
ଫଟୋ କ୍ରେଡ଼ିଟ୍ - ୱିକିମିଡିଆ କମନ୍ସ୍

କାନ୍ଥରେ ଗୋଟେ ଝରକା ରହୁଥିଲା
ଗୋଟେ କୁଡ଼ିଆ, ଦିଇଟା ପାଦଚଲା ବାଟ, ଗୋଟେ ନଈ
ଆଉ ଗୋଟେ ଯୋଡ଼େ ପୋଖରୀ ରହୁଥିଲା 
ଗୋଟେ ଆକାଶ ସହିତ ସମସ୍ତଙ୍କର ରହଣି ଥିଲା
ଲୋକଙ୍କର ଯାଆଆସ କେବେକେବେ ହେଉଥିଲା
ଗଛ ଆଉ ଚରେଇ ରହୁଥିଲେ
ଝରକାରେ ସବୁକିଛି ରହୁଥିଲା
ନ ରହିବା ଭିତରେ ଗୋଟେ ଝରକା ଖୋଲା ରହୁ ନଥିଲା
ରହିବା ଭିତରେ ଗୋଟେ ଝରକା ଖୋଲା ରହୁଥିଲା
ଝରକାଠୁ ଛାଡ଼ିକରି କାନ୍ଥରେ ଗୋଟେ ମଣିଷ ରହୁଥିଲା ।

ବି.ଦ୍ର. - ବିନୋଦ କୁମାର ଶୁକ୍ଲାଙ୍କର ଜନ୍ମ ୧୯୩୭ ମସିହାରେ, ଏବେର ଛତିଶଗଡ଼ ରାଜ୍ୟର ରାଜନନ୍ଦଗାଓଁରେ । ଜବଲପୁରସ୍ଥ ଜୱାହରଲାଲ କୃଷି ବିଶ୍ୱବିଦ୍ୟୟାଳୟରୁ କୃଷିବିଜ୍ଞାନରେ ସ୍ନାତକୋତ୍ତର ଉପାଧି ଲାଭ କରିସାରି ସେ ରାୟପୁରର କୃଷି ମହାବିଦ୍ୟାଳୟରେ ଅଧ୍ୟାପକ ଭାବରେ ଯୋଗ ଦେଲେ । ନିଜର ମ୍ୟାଜିକ୍‌-ରିଆଲିଜମ୍‌ଧର୍ମୀ ଉପନ୍ୟାସ ତଥା ଜୀବନବାଦୀ, ଭିନ୍ନ ସ୍ୱାଦର କବିତା ପାଇଁ ସେ ହିନ୍ଦୀ ଓ ଭାରତୀୟ ସାହିତ୍ୟ ଜଗତରେ ଜଣାଶୁଣା । ତାଙ୍କର ଗଦ୍ୟକୃତି ଓ କବିତାଗୁଡ଼ିକ ବହୁଳ ଭାବରେ ଆଦୃତ ଓ ଅନୁଦିତ । ତାଙ୍କର ଅନେକ କାହାଣୀ ଫିଲ୍ମର ରୂପ ମଧ୍ୟ ପାଇଛି । ତନ୍ମଧ୍ୟରୁ ପ୍ରସିଦ୍ଧ ସିନେନିର୍ମାତା ମଣି କୌଲ 'ଏକ୍ ନୌକର୍ କି କମିଜ୍' ଉପନ୍ୟାସ ଉପରେ ଏକ ସମନାମ୍ନୀ ଚଳଚିତ୍ର ନିର୍ମାଣ କରିଥିଲେ । ଅନ୍ୟାନ୍ୟ ପୁରସ୍କାର ଭିତରୁ 'ଦିୱାର୍ ମେଁ ଏକ ଖିଡ଼୍‌କି ରହ୍‌ତି ଥି' ଉପନ୍ୟାସଟି ପାଇଁ ୧୯୯୯ ମସିହାରେ ସେ କେନ୍ଦ୍ର ସାହିତ୍ୟ ଅକାଦେମୀ ସମ୍ମାନ ଲାଭ କରିଛନ୍ତି ।

Thursday, April 15, 2021

Brajanatha Badajena's 'Chatura Binoda': An Introduction

Sailen Routray


Coat of Arms of Dhenkanal Princely State
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons
 

Chatura Binoda by Brajanatha Badajena can be described as the ‘central’ prose text in the Oriya literary canon. And like all ‘central’ texts it has kept the critics sharply divided. But none can deny its significance. The title ‘Chatura Binoda’ has been interpreted to be the compilation of four Binodas. (chatuh means four in both Oriya and Sanskrit). But this interpretation of the title is slightly off the mark. Chatuh when joined with Binoda becomes Chaturbinoda in both Oriya and Sanskrit not Chatura Binoda. ln Oriya chatura means clever or sophisticated and thus, ‘Chatura Binoda’  might perhaps be better translated as 'Stories meant for the sophisticated' or the chaturas.

Chatura Binoda was written in the second half of the eighteenth century. This was a time of uncertainty and disorder in Orissa. The Mughal sun had finally set with the Marathas rampaging through much of the territory that is now called as 'natural Orissa'. There was no central authority ruling over the whole of the land. The coastal Mughalbandi areas had passed on to the Marathas, while the rest of the state was ruled by bickering petty chieftains. But despite all this disorganization, this was also a century of cultural continuity and consolidation.

Oriya literature first gained its bearings in the fifteenth century and sixteenth century after a protracted battle with the reigning Brahminical, Sanskritic orthodoxy. The likes of Sarala Das, Jagannath Das and Achyutananda Das gave voice to the aspirations of the people through the language of the people. In the process they standardized the language and produced the first canonical literature in Oriya.

But by the eighteenth century this initial impetus had already faded. Sanskrit had again crept back and had started to dominate. During this period Oriya language got heaving Sanskritized. Sanskrit words crept into the vocabulary and pushed deshi words out of polite, literary usage. Poetry came to be written in a highly ornamental and artificial language. Almost all the poetry produced in this period was written under the influence of Sanskrit riti kavyas. The plots of these long poems (kavyas) were hackneyed, the language artificial and the protagonists predominantly divine or royal. 

Brajanatha Badajena was a welcome deviation to this rule. His life spanned most of the eighteenth century. He was born around 1730 in the state of Dhenkanal in a reasonably well off, cultured, Karana, Hindu family. His family’s surname was Patnaik. The title Badajena was bestowed upon him by a king of one of the small states of Orissa on one of his many wanderings. His literary career started early and continued till his death in 1800 at Pun. Four sons survived him but his wife purportedly committed sati. 

Badajena led a long and productive life. Although his father and brothers served the kings of Dhenkanal, he could not stay put at any place for long. He was an accomplished pattachitra painter as well; he also dabbled in calligraphy on palm leaves, and paper etchings. His many wanderings in search of a living took him to places as far as Calcutta in the north and Srikakulam is the south. But he could not find a single place where he could settle down for long. He always had to come back to Dhenkanal, and it is at a village nearby that he died in penury.

All his life Badajena stood at an odd angle to the Oriya literary establishment of the times. All most all his contemporary men of letters were bilingual. But he was a polyglot with mastery over Oriya, Sanskrit, Hindi, Bengali and Telugu. Thus, he could have access to not only to his own literary tradition but also to all the neighboring cultural traditions, as well as to that of the pan-Indian Sanskritic one.

A Colonial Era Map of Dhenkanal State
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons

Probably he wrote in all these languages. But only his Oriya and Hindi works survive. Like his contemporaries he also was influenced by Upendra Bhanja and wrote ornamental riti kavyas like Kelikalanidhi and Bichakhyana (both written in the period 1755-65). He also wrote a few bhajans and lyrics. But his reputation rests on four works written in his mature years; namely Ambika Bilasa, Samara Taranga, and Chatura Binoda in Oriya and Gundicha Bije in Hindi.

Ambika Bilasa is a long poem written in the tradition of Saivite bhakti poetry. It is reputedly his best work. Samara Taranga is a long war poem written on the Motari battle fought between the Marathas and the forces of the king of Dhenkanal in central Orissa in 1781. Gundicha Bije is a long poem written in Hindi, the theme being the Ratha Yatra of lord Jagannatha.

This brings us to Chatura Binoda. It occupies a curious place in the history of Oriya prose whose history is at least as ancient as the history of Oriya poetry. But like all literatures in Indian languages, poetry bloomed first. It was poetry that standardized the Oriya language, and not its prose; this had a retarding effect on the growth and evolution of the latter.

Apart from royal inscriptions and temple records (mainly the Madala Panji) instances of prose usage are few. Narayana Abadhuta Swami’s Rudrasudhanidhi is often regarded as the earliest instance of Oriya literary prose. But critical opinion is still divided regarding the nature of the language used in Rudrasudhanidhi. If Prose is defined as an approximation of speech patterns as naturally used by men then the language of Rudrrasudhanidhi perhaps falls short of this definition.

But without any reservations Chatura Binoda can be regarded as the first proper instance of Oriya literary prose fiction. What are ambiguous are its nature and its place in Oriya literature. It is sometimes seen as a continuation of the tradition of a Sanskrit prose epics in Oriya. A few others don’t want to give it the status of ‘literature’ and treat it as a literary ‘freak’.

But then Brajanatha Badajena himself was something of an oddity. In an age in which being multilingual meant acquiring court languages like Sanskrit or Persian, he knew Bengali, Telugu, and Hindi, apart from his mother tongue Oriya, and of course the customary Sanskrit. In a century that produced numerous ritikavyas he produced the only long war poem in the language, Samara Taranga. Is it any wonder then that he should write the first work of literary prose fiction in Oriya? 

It would be unproductive as a critical enterprise to try and locate Chatura Binoda in the tradition of Sanskrit prose epics or even folktale collections. The stories that constitute this work can be located in the traditional folklore prevalent in many parts of Orissa. It is composed of four parts that are titled as  Hashya Binoda, Rasa Binoda, Niti Binoda, and Preeti Binoda. Each Binoda is separate and self-contained and is composed of a few stories. But the four Binodas are also joined together through a structural principle which shall hold true only if we see Chatura Binoda in the tradition of refashioning of folk tales.

Illustrated Manuscript of 'Lavanyabati' by Upendra Bhanja
From the Collections of Odisha State Museum
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons

All the classical elements like the Ganesh vandana and the Krishna vandana according to this view are merely supplementary to the main structure and theme of the work and not integrally linked to it. In order to understand Chatura Binoda as a work of literature, we need to examine both ‘the narration of function’ and ‘the function of narration’ and to show that both of these refashion the popular and the folk material at their disposal into a work of art which transcends the limitations of a traditional folktale. Yet at the same time it manages to remain earthy and folksy in both form and texture.

Let us see how this is achieved in the collection under consideration, Niti Binoda. But before going into further details, let us look at the beginning of the story. The prince Mohananga falls for the vaishya girl Chanchalakshi and proposes to her. But since she is undergoing a penance she could not sleep with him that night. Thus, both of them propose to be awake and to help her to stay up, he tells her four sets stories. The third such set is the Niti Binoda.

Niti can mean law or mores. But here it means justice. The aim of the plots of the stories in this set, is to illustrate justice in action. And the characters of all the four stories aid this action. The narrator of the main story is Mohananga and the listener is Chanchalakshi. In the sub-stories the parrot and the mynah are the narrators and the Brahmins are the listeners. Thus, by using this device of opposition the principles of natural justice are illustrated. The stories are linked together by the questions asked by the characters, by the principle of coherence working through the stories that unifies the narratives, and by the thematic principle of natural justice.

Let us see how Chatura Binoda transcends the limitations set by a traditional folktale. According to Frye “. .. the folk tale... is an abstract story pattern. The characters can do what they like, which means what the storyteller likes: there is no need to be plausible or logical in motivation, This is not so in Chatura Binoda. Of course the birds speak. But they are merely the narrators of the stories, A couple of roving travelers would have served equally well. 

Niti Binoda like the rest of the three Binodas links the disparate stories into a unitary whole through the process of seamless and coherent narration, If we see Chatura Binoda as a continuum between folktales and other literary fictional traditions then only its true significance can be understood. Thus, even though it is not a mere compilation of folk tales, it is no close-ended literary work either. It seems as unsuccessful and unsatisfactory if and only if we view it as such (that is, as a close-ended literary work). 

But if we see it as a text in which the ‘epic’ battle of eighteenth century Oriya literature was fought, then our vision of the text is transformed altogether. Seen in this light, this text becomes the first work of Oriya non-mythological prose fiction where ‘the folk’ found a voice for the first time in literature, unadulterated by any rhetorical device, Thus, adultery becomes something passé, swear words are gleefully exchanged at times, and one popular story follows another in rapid succession. 

The key to understand Chatura Binoda lies in seeing it neither as a mere collection of folktales nor as another addition to the tradition of ‘literary’ prose fiction. One must see it as an expression of a new type of literature that takes up the abstract story patterns of the folktales and transforms them by the force of narration. ‘The function of narration’ is to force this disparate material into a unitary whole. ‘The narration of function’ serves the social aims of entrainment and exposition, The success of this text lies neither in faithfully recording folktales nor in transforming them into ‘the classical, Its significance lies in the fact that it straddles the folk-popular-classical continuum and refuses to be pigeonholed into any of the three categories.

Note: This essay was written as an introduction to an undergraduate dissertation (that was essentially a translation of the 'Niti Binoda') that I wrote as a student of B.J.B. Autonomous College (in the period 1999-2002), Bhubaneswar for a B.A. with English (Hons) degree from Utkal University. The supervisor of this dissertation was Odia poet Subash Mohanty who was recently carried away to the other shore by the COVID pandemic. The piece is raw and immature, but is offered here more or less unchanged with a few minor editorial interventions.  

Monday, April 12, 2021

ମୁଁ କବି ନୁହେଁ କି ତୁ କବିତା ବି ନୁହଁ

ଶୈଲେନ ରାଉତରାୟ


ଫଟୋ କ୍ରେଡ଼ିଟ୍ - ୱିକିମିଡିଆ କମନ୍ସ୍

ମୁଁ ବେପାରୀ ନୁହେଁ କି ତୁ ଗରାଖ ବି ନୁହଁ
ତା'ହେଲେ ମୋର ବସ୍ତି 
ଦୋକାନରେ ବସିଚି କାହିଁକି
ତୋ' କାରୱାଁ 
ବଜାରରେ କେଉଁଥିପାଇଁ ।୧।

ମୁଁ ବେମାର ନୁହେଁ କି ତୁ ଡାକ୍ତର ବି ନୁହଁ 
ତା'ହେଲେ ମୋ' ଘରେ 
ଶୁଭାକାଂକ୍ଷୀଙ୍କର ଭୀଡ଼ କାହିଁକି
ତୋ' ଦାଣ୍ଡରେ ସଦା 
କୋକେଇ ଉଠୁଚି କେଉଁଥିପାଇଁ ।୨।

ମୁଁ ପ୍ରଗତିଶୀଳ ନୁହେଁ କି ତୁ ଦୁନିଆ ବି ନୁହଁ
ତା'ହେଲେ ତୋ'ର ଭାର 
ମୋ' ଉପରେ କାହିଁକି
ମୋ' ସ୍ୱପ୍ନର ଜାଲ ତୋ' ଦୁଃସ୍ୱପ୍ନର 
ଶିକୁଳି ହେଇଚି କେଉଁଥିପାଇଁ ।୩।

ମୁଁ ପିଇଲାବାଲା ନୁହେଁ କି ତୁ ସାକି ବି ନୁହଁ
ତା'ହେଲେ ମୋ' ହାତର ପିଆଲା
ଆଉ ତୋ' ହୃଦୟ ଖାଲି କାହିଁକି
ତୁ ମୋ' ପ୍ରତିଦ୍ୱନ୍ଦୀର 
କୋଳରେ ବସିଚୁ କେଉଁଥିପାଇଁ ।୪। 

ମୁଁ କବି ନୁହେଁ କି ତୁ କବିତା ବି ନୁହଁ
ତା'ହେଲେ ମୋ' ନୀରବତାରେ 
ତୋ' ଉଚ୍ଚାରଣର ନିଃଶବ୍ଦ ଶୋଭାଯାତ୍ରା କାହିଁକି
ତୋ' ଚାଲିର ଛନ୍ଦ 
ଶୈଲେନର ପୃଷ୍ଠାରେ କେଉଁଥିପାଇଁ ।୫।

Saturday, April 10, 2021

How Did We Become Modern?

A Few Answers According to Sudipta Kaviraj

Sailen Routray


Photo Credit - Permanent Black

Introduction

We live in a world that is apparently coloured with the dyes of modernity. Some like modernity’s colours. Some want to change its hues. Others rue its colour palate and want to go back to a pristine white of what they see as the traditional world. But before we can act on the inevitable fact of our modernity, we need to have some sense about how we got from ‘there to here,’ from ‘then to now.’ 

The question therefore, is, do all societies/social formations need to travel down the same path to reach the same destination of ‘the modern,’ or is modernity to be thought through in the plural? The answer that Sudipta Kaviraj provides to the above questions is a resounding yes for the plural nature of the enterprise of modernity. He argues that there are many modernities that are fashioned through historically contingent processes.

Who is Sudipta Kaviraj?

Sudipta Kaviraj is, arguably, India’s foremost scholar in the field of intellectual history. His contributions to understanding Indian politics and the state have also been immense. He has worked on two areas of intellectual history; these being Indian socio-political thought in the past two centuries and the politics of modern literary and cultural production. His other scholarly interests include tracing the genealogy of the state in India, and social theory.

He finished his undergraduate education at the then Presidency College (now Presidency University), Calcutta. He has a Ph.D. from Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU), New Delhi. He currently works as a Professor in the Department of Middle Eastern, South Asian and African Studies at Columbia University in New York. Before joining Columbia University, he has taught politics and political science at SOAS (School of Oriental and African Studies), London, and JNU. He has also been an Agatha Harrison Fellow at St. Antony's College, Oxford.

He was a founding member of the Subaltern Studies Collective. Kaviraj’s books include The Imaginary Institution of India (2010), The trajectories of the Indian state: politics and ideas (2010), The enchantment of democracy and India: politics and ideas, Civil Society: History and Possibilities co-edited with Sunil Khilnani (2001), Politics in India (edited) (1999), and The Unhappy Consciousness: Bankimchandra Chattopadhyay and the Formation of Nationalist Discourse in India (1995).

Photo Credit - Permanent Black Blog

Colonialism and Plural Modernities 

For Kaviraj, colonialism is a central watershed in the story of modernity in postcolonial societies such as India. He has often argued that telling the story of their modernity is impossible without foregrounding the impact of colonialism. While doing so Kaviraj tries to veer a middle ground between two extremes. 

There are scholars such as David Washbrook who have often argued that the origins of the ‘Indian modern’ temporally lie before colonialism. According to them processes of transformations in the Indian social formation whose results we see now all around us can be traced back to a period of time predating colonialism. 

There are other scholars, who influenced by Edward Said, argue for a completely transformative impact for colonialism. According to them, colonialism completely changed everything from inter-community relationships, to relations of production, to forms of performance. Sudipta Kaviraj intervenes in this scholarship on the links between colonialism and modernity by arguing for a much more calibrated and careful entanglements between the two.   

The scholarly work of Sudipta Kaviraj have had a sustained and sometimes invisible impacts on the narratives surrounding society, politics and the state in India. Each one of his interventions has gone on to structure the academic, and sometimes even popular, commonsense regarding Indian social formations. His work on the intellectual history of India and the dynamics of Indian politics can be seen as forming part of a larger project of tracing the genealogy of the modern state and a biography of modernity in India.

Sudipta Kaviraj argues that Western social theories regarding modernity (some would argue that the word ‘modernity’ is a superfluous word here since all Western social theory is about modernity in some sense), especially its most important strands, as evidenced in the works of theorists such as Karl Marx and Max Weber, revolve around two conceptual fulcrums. 

One of these conceptual fulcrums constitute of the idea that modernity is a homogenous process that is singular and is explainable through a single causal principle. The second conceptual fulcrum constitutes the idea that modernity spreads from Western centers and wherever else it migrates into the world, it invariably produces societies similar to the ‘original’ Western ‘models.’

Photo Credit - Permanent Black

Kaviraj argues that there are at least three reasons why modernity cannot be homogenous. He argues that modernity as a process is essentially plural and will produce different institutions and social processes in different contexts.

First, he argues that although modernity often involves significant ruptures with extant social practices, often the processes and practices engendered by it are not completely unprecedented. He argues analogically with the example of learning a second language. When an Odia-speaking person learns English as a second language, often the English of such a person carries the lilt and cadence of Odia. Similarly, Kaviraj argues, modernity carries traces of the pre-modern. And since the premodern is of a varied vintage and is inherently plural, ‘the modern’ is also produced in a context-specific manner.

Second, Kaviraj argues, that modernity is a plural process. Based on actual historical evidence of various societies’ experiences with modernity, he says that unlike what most Western theorists of modernity posit, no single causal process can produce all the artefacts and institutions of modernity. Further, he argues, the actual ways in which social processes occur and connect with each other have a strong bearing on the final outcomes. Since these processes are inherently plural, the outcomes cannot be singular. In this context, he gives the example of secularism in India. 

By the time democracy with adult suffrage arrived in Western societies, these were sufficiently secularized. Hence in the West, there was no major conflict between democracy and secularism. But in the Indian context, democracy with adult suffrage arrived in a country where group loyalties, including religious loyalties, were important and society was not sufficiently secularized. Hence, in the Indian context, there are always fault lines between constitutional demands of a secular polity and the imperatives of a non-secularized society.

Third, Kaviraj puts forth, modernity is characterized by reflexivity in two ways. In the first sense, modern institutions and practices are directed as much towards the other, as they are towards the self – towards their own societies. In the second sense, reflexivity refers to a recursive process through which the technologies of modernity get refined and perfected over a period of time. Because of this fact, it is not likely that colonial and postcolonial societies will have to repeat the experiences of Western societies in order to become modern.

The introduction of Western state practices under colonialism in India did not lead to a duplication of the experiences of state-formation of Britain or other European countries in India. Because of reformation and the growth of absolutism in Europe, nation-states had developed a form of sovereignty in internal affairs that had no parallel in India. 

The colonial state in India also operated from within a framework of orientalism where certain state practices and legislative imperatives that were seen as important in the European context were simply not extended to the colony of British India. Thirdly, because of the very structure of Indian civilization and society, the practices that were introduced by the British in India went through, what Kaviraj calls, an ‘accent shift.’   

Kaviraj’s thesis on modernity, state and politics in India can be summarized in the following propositions – a) the modern, postcolonial state in India is, in many ways, a successor of the colonial state, and to understand processes of its formation we need to have sophisticated accounts of changes produced by colonial intervention; b) to be able to do this, we need to provide two parallel accounts – the first account is that of the governing principles structuring Indian sociality before and during the colonial experience, and the second account is that of the responses to colonial interventions such as those of anti-colonialism and nationalism, and the narrative structures enmeshed in these discourses.

Photo Credit - Permanent Black

Fuzzy and Enumerated Communities

For Kaviraj, as it must be clear by now, the question of modernity is inherently entangled with the question of colonialism. For him, therefore, the question regarding what is produced by the process of colonialism has an important obverse – what confronted colonialism in the first place, or what is it that was changed by colonialism. Thus, we are confronted with the question of civilizational/cultural/societal difference.

Pre-modern society in Europe had symmetrical hierarchy; this meant that along all the axes of power the ranking of communities could neatly map onto each other. But Kaviraj has often argued that we can understand precolonial and colonial Indian sociality as being structured through the principles of asymmetrical hierarchy in which aspects of social power are dispersed across social groups unevenly. 

This meant that whereas one community could be in the middle of the hierarchy with respect to ritual ranking, with respect to political power it could at the top. This also meant that precolonial India was a peculiarly segmented society where the state was marginal with important executive powers but limited judicial and legislative powers. The state in India operated through the principle of subsidiarity; because of the specific nature of social power in precolonial India it could never claim sovereign powers.

Kaviraj then goes on to provide a powerful story of how the earlier social formation based on the existence of ‘fuzzy’ communities changed substantially through the imperatives of the colonial state such as the decennial census. No aspect of identity of a person could have claims of complete representation of all aspects of selfhood in India in precolonial times. 

Before colonialism communities were ‘fuzzy’ in broadly two senses. First, no aspect of a person’s identity was absolutely central for her in a context-independent way. Second. The organization of these communities involved a fine and complex ordering of differences, and therefore, getting a sense of numbers and sizes would have been next to impossible.

In this social field of graduated differences colonialism introduced new forces. The boundaries of communities started hardening through processes of colonial enumeration such as censuses. The colonial state slowly instituted a regime of liberal rights in the economic and social spheres. One of the results of this process was the carving out of the sphere of 'politics' as a domain of social action. 

Following this, communities, aided by the technologies of enumeration, started engaging with the colonial state on a platform of claim-making. This meant that a process of associationism produced the network of enumerated communities as we know them today.  Thus, Kaviraj posits a strong relationship between the establishment of the colonial state in India, its interventions in Indian society, and the production of communities in India as we know them now.

A Map of British India Published in 1864
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons

Emergence of State Sovereignty in Colonial India

One key difference in the exercise of political power in India after British conquest was the way the state conceptualized its power and exercised it. Before the advent of British rule the exercise of state power (if the matter can be framed in such a manner at all) was through the principle of subsidiarity. The state did not have ‘legislative’ powers so to speak. Its ability to dictate the quotidian functioning of the communities was extremely limited; these were mostly governed by caste rules and councils. 

The state definitely had ceremonial majesty (the best example of which is perhaps the Mughal Empire) and could successfully exercise significant extractive imperatives. But it could not significantly change the ways in which society was organised and governed in India. The state in precolonial India thus had spectacular majesty, but was socially marginal. 

This provided for long-term social stability to Indian civilization. It also meant that the state was not ‘sovereign’ in the ways in which the modern nation-states in Europe were beginning to become sovereign over the societies that they governed over in the post-Westphalian era.

The colonial state was, thus, an unprecedented phenomenon in India. At first the colonial apparatus in India did not intervene too much and occupied the ceremonial majesty of the state left vacant by the Mughal Empire. But it represented the great conquering ideology of enlightenment rationalism. This ideology had restructured the ethical and cognitive regimes, and economic and political systems in Europe. 

Therefore, the colonial state did not stay marginal for long. Although the colonial state initially kept up with the pretensions of being only a revenue gathering organisation, the colonial state started reengineering the Indian social almost immediately after assumption of political power. It introduced a system of liberal rights in the social and economic spheres, thus instituting a new cognitive order that mediated between the state and the individual.

Emergence of Politics: Anti-colonialism and Nationalism

From the time the British dominance in India was cognized the initial response was one of bafflement. For most thinking people in India it was inconceivable that a sophisticated civilization such as India could be subjugated by the ‘mlechha’ British. 

According to Kaviraj, when ‘Indians’ started interrogating colonial subjection and moved from a position of anticolonialism to that of nationalism – from asking questions surrounding reasons for India’s civilizational defeat to the possibilities of freedom from colonial rule - certain  key processes got initiated. 

One set of diagnosis regarding Britain’s superiority over India and the reasons for the latter’s defeat in the hands of the former was seen as a result of social organization. The British were seen to constitute a collectivity – a nation – and were seen to have at their command a state that acted at the behest of this nation. 

The British colonial state in India could not completely implement its liberal, utilitarian agenda in the colony for very obvious reasons. Instituting a system of liberal political rights would have been suicidal to the colonial state in India. Instead, what it did, as already mentioned, is to institute a system of liberal rights in the social and economic spheres. 

This meant that at the level of experience by the people the totality of social cognition got divided into three spheres; the social, the economic and the political, and because the sphere of the political was left without a governing framework of rights by the colonial state, over a period of time it started leading to a process of intense contestation. Politics thus became the name for claim-making on the state by communities whose very nature started changing through the processes of contestation involved in claim-making.

These processes of claim-making led to a peculiarly new form of ‘we-feeling’ where people could collectively work together for enhancement of collective interests. Initially these collectivities were jati-based. But over a period of time, the sense of nationhood started developing. For some time it was not clear whether it is language or religion or something else that can be the basis of nationality. But over a period of time only ‘the Indian nation’ was seen as capable of overthrowing the foreign yoke. But the way Indian nationalism was fashioned, it was done with the understanding that a blind imitation of the Western experience will not work.

 'Rashtrapati Bhavan' when it was the Viceroy's House
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons 

In this context, Kaviraj contrasts two ideal type positions. On one hand, leaders such as Gandhi and Tagore argued that India as a civilization cannot follow Europe blindly. The Western experience of modernity involved a lot that was undesirable, for example widespread violence. India as a civilization was seen as needing to chart out its own path of inhabiting the present moment. 

Nehru on the other hand saw modernity as desirable, but he also saw it as an essentially reflexive process that will necessarily involve India making different political choices for constituting the nation. Since the linguistic reality of India is that of pluralism and diversity, imposing one language (such as Hindi) as the basis of Indian nationalism was see as counter-productive in this reading. Similarly in a society which is not sufficiently secularized, not taking into account the religious concerns of a substantial minority can only make the foundations of nationalism weak.

Thus, a parallel set of processes involved the production of ‘the nation.’ These included the production of language-based linguistic identities/regions, and the birth and growth of politics as a domain of sociality during the anti-colonial national movement. Indian nationalism grew up as essentially diaglossic. 

Since European forms of social organisation such as the state were seen as key to the success of the colonial enterprise, the nationalist movement (despite contrarian noises by some key players such as Gandhi and Tagore) took as its objective the removal of foreign control over the state, rather than a radical restructuring of state-society relations and politics per se.

Conclusion

The discussions in this essay till now might seem esoteric. But they are not. Questions surrounding the role of religion and/or language in Indian politics remain important even now. As Kaviraj argues, the adoption of adult-suffrage and parliamentary democracy after independence produced an inevitable clash between democracy and bureaucracy with development as a discourse playing a role comparable to the one played by utilitarianism during colonialism. 

The peculiarly colonial origins of politics in India continue to mark it even now. Politics in India persist in being about claim-making upon the state. The debates surrounding language and religion that were crucial to the growth of nationalism stay important.

But there are many ways in which the Indian experience of dealing with the imperatives of modernity have global relevance. For example, in the post-communist era, Europe, especially Western Europe faces the challenge of significant and growing number of racial, linguistic and religions minorities in various countries. The ways in which the Indian national movement and the post-colonial state have tried to deal with the question of diversity as a part of a civilizational quest to chart out an alternative path to modernity can be of contemporary relevance to the originary countries of modernity.

References

Kaviraj, S. 2010a. ‘Modernity and Politics in India’ in The trajectories of the Indian state: politics and ideas. Ranikhet: Permanent Black: pp. 15-29.

Kaviraj, S. 2010b. ‘On State, Society, and Discourse in India’ in The imaginary institution of India: politics and ideas. New York: Columbia University Press: pp. 9 – 38.

Kaviraj, S. 2010c: ‘On the Construction of Colonial Power: Structure, Discourse, Hegemony’, in The imaginary institution of India: politics and ideas. New York: Columbia University Press: pp. 39 - 84.

Kaviraj, S. 2010d. ‘On the Structure of Nationalist Discourse’, in The imaginary institution of India: politics and ideas. New York: Columbia University Press: pp. 85-126.

Kaviraj, S. 2010e. ‘’Writing, Speaking, Being: Language and the Historical Formation of Identities in India’, in The imaginary institution of India: politics and ideas. New York: Columbia University Press: pp. 127-166.

Kaviraj, S. 2010f. ‘The Imaginary Institution of India’ in The imaginary institution of India: politics and ideas. New York: Columbia University Press: pp. 167-209.

Kaviraj, S. 2000. Modernity and politics in India. Daedalus 129 (1): 137-162.

Routray, Sailen. 2011. Review of ‘The imaginary institution of India: politics and ideas’ by Sudipta Kaviraj. Contemporary South Asia 19(3): 339 – 340.

Parliament House in 1926 (Wikimedia Commons)

Interesting Facts

1. Sudipta Kaviraj completed all his education in India. He is an alumnus of Presidency College, Calcutta. He completed his PhD from Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi.

2. Sudipta Kaviraj’s extension of the idea of passive revolution to the Indian context has been extremely productive as a research framework and has been influential on many important scholars such as Partha Chatterjee.

3. Sudipta Kaviraj is a founding member of the ‘Subaltern Studies Collective.’

4. Sudipta Kaviraj’s father Narahari Kaviraj (who died in 2011) was an eminent Marxist historian and ideologue of the Communist Party of India.

Web Links

Download Sudipta Kaviraj’s paper on the state here, for free:  http://icspt.uchicago.edu/papers/2005/kaviraj05.pdf

Read Sudipta Kaviraj’s paper on the postcolonial state here for free: http://criticalencounters.net/2009/01/19/the-post-colonial-state-sudipta-kaviraj/#more-29

Note: This material is a modified version of the module titled Entangled Modernities and Sequential Theories: Sudipta Kaviraj written by the author for the course titled ‘Contemporary Social Theory’ for the discipline of Sociology in the UGC E-Pathshala programme. 

Wednesday, April 7, 2021

ଅନୁରୋଧ

ବିନୋଦ କୁମାର ଶୁକ୍ଲା

ଅନୁବାଦକ - ଶୈଲେନ ରାଉତରାୟ


ଗୁଜୁରାଟର ଗ୍ରେଟ୍ ରାନ୍ ଅଫ୍ କଛ୍‌ରେ ସନ୍ଧ୍ୟା
ଫଟୋ କ୍ରେଡ଼ିଟ୍ - ୱିକିମିଡିଆ କମନ୍ସ୍

ମୋତେ ଗୁଜୁରାତୀ ଆସେନା 
ତଥାପି ମୁଁ ଜାଣିଚି
ଯେ ଗୁଜୁରାତୀ ମୋତେ ଆସେ ।
ସେ ହତ୍ୟା କରିସାରି ପଳଉଚି-
ଏହା ଏକ ଗୁଜୁରାତୀ ବାକ୍ୟ ଅଟେ ।
ଦୟା କର, ମୋତେ ମାରନା
ମୋର ଛୋଟଛୋଟ ପିଲା,
ଝିଅକୁ ବାହାଦେବା ଏଯାଏଁ ବାକି ଅଛି,
ଆଉ ବାହାଦେବାକୁ ଥିବା ଝିଅଟି 
ଧର୍ଷଣରେ ମରିଗଲା-
ଏଗୁଡ଼ିକ ଗୁଜୁରାତୀର ବାକ୍ୟ ଅଟେ ।
'ଅନୁରୋଧ' ଏହା ଏକ ଗୁଜୁରାତୀ ଶବ୍ଦ ଅଟେ ।

ବି.ଦ୍ର. - ବିନୋଦ କୁମାର ଶୁକ୍ଲାଙ୍କର ଜନ୍ମ ୧୯୩୭ ମସିହାରେ, ଏବେର ଛତିଶଗଡ଼ ରାଜ୍ୟର ରାଜନନ୍ଦଗାଓଁରେ । ଜବଲପୁରସ୍ଥ ଜୱାହରଲାଲ କୃଷି ବିଶ୍ୱବିଦ୍ୟୟାଳୟରୁ କୃଷିବିଜ୍ଞାନରେ ସ୍ନାତକୋତ୍ତର ଉପାଧି ଲାଭ କରିସାରି ସେ ରାୟପୁରର କୃଷି ମହାବିଦ୍ୟାଳୟରେ ଅଧ୍ୟାପକ ଭାବରେ ଯୋଗ ଦେଲେ । ନିଜର ମ୍ୟାଜିକ୍‌-ରିଆଲିଜମ୍‌ଧର୍ମୀ ଉପନ୍ୟାସ ତଥା ଜୀବନବାଦୀ, ଭିନ୍ନ ସ୍ୱାଦର କବିତା ପାଇଁ ସେ ହିନ୍ଦୀ ଓ ଭାରତୀୟ ସାହିତ୍ୟ ଜଗତରେ ଜଣାଶୁଣା । ତାଙ୍କର ଗଦ୍ୟକୃତି ଓ କବିତାଗୁଡ଼ିକ ବହୁଳ ଭାବରେ ଆଦୃତ ଓ ଅନୁଦିତ । ତାଙ୍କର ଅନେକ କାହାଣୀ ଫିଲ୍ମର ରୂପ ମଧ୍ୟ ପାଇଛି । ତନ୍ମଧ୍ୟରୁ ପ୍ରସିଦ୍ଧ ସିନେନିର୍ମାତା ମଣି କୌଲ 'ଏକ୍ ନୌକର୍ କି କମିଜ୍' ଉପନ୍ୟାସ ଉପରେ ଏକ ସମନାମ୍ନୀ ଚଳଚିତ୍ର ନିର୍ମାଣ କରିଥିଲେ । ଅନ୍ୟାନ୍ୟ ପୁରସ୍କାର ଭିତରୁ 'ଦିୱାର୍ ମେଁ ଏକ ଖିଡ଼୍‌କି ରହ୍‌ତି ଥି' ଉପନ୍ୟାସଟି ପାଇଁ ୧୯୯୯ ମସିହାରେ ସେ କେନ୍ଦ୍ର ସାହିତ୍ୟ ଅକାଦେମୀ ସମ୍ମାନ ଲାଭ କରିଛନ୍ତି ।

Sunday, April 4, 2021

Epic Graphic

Recovering Dalit Bahujan Histories through Words and Pictures

Sailen Routray


A stamp issued on Savitribai Phule issued by Government of India in 1998
Photo Credit - Wikimedia Commons 
 
This essay discusses two graphic books, one on Bhimrao Ambedkar and the other on the couple  Savitribai Phule and Jyotirao Phule, that were published almost a decade back. These volumes have, by now, helped set the benchmark in India in picture books that narrate marginal life histories. These have also helped us evolve a visual grammar that allows us to celebrate such lives in art despite the suffering that the protagonists had had to go through.   

A Gardener in the Wasteland (AGITW) is a reworking of the anti-caste, tract Gulamgiri by the Maharashtrian social reformer and anti-caste polemicist, Jotirao Govindrao Phule. Bhimayana is a graphic retelling of some key incidents in the life of the dalit visionary, theorist, independent India’s first law minister, and the chairperson of the drafting committee of the Indian Constitution, Dr Bhimrao Ramji Ambedkar.  

Bhimayana is perhaps the first such book about the life of Ambedkar. It picks up a few key events in his life, drawn from the piece “Waiting for a Visa” in Volume 12 of the multi-volume Babasaheb Ambedkar: Writings and Speeches, edited by Vasant Moon. The first section of Bhimayana tells us stories regarding water, and the ways in which the experience of discrimination that Dalits have faced in India has been framed through such narratives.

In the first of these stories, young Bhim often goes thirsty in school because, in the multi-caste school that he studies in, the school attendant has to fetch water from the fountain and give it to him as he is an “untouchable” and is not allowed to access water directly.

In the second of these stories, on a family trip to Goregaon in Mumbai where Ambedkar’s father is posted, he, along with other members of his family, find it difficult to get a tonga to travel for a part of the journey as no tonga driver agrees to serve untouchables. They also go without food and water on this trip, as no one is willing to give them water, so they find it difficult to eat the spicy food that young Bhim’s aunt had packed for them. 

Water, and the beings, and discriminations spawned in it, in many ways frames the narratives of Bhimayana. Fishes frame and animate many of the pages of the book. For example, on page 54, a tank whose water is denied to Dalits takes the shape of a huge fish. This particular picture tells the story of the denial of access for Dalits to a  public tank in Chakwara village in Rajasthan, drawing upon a report in news magazine Tehelka in 2008. The book shuttles between the past and present, the indignities faced by the London School of Economics and Columbia University educated Ambedkar, and the continuing violence and discrimination faced by Dalits in India. 

The Cover of 'Bhimayana' (Wikimedia Commons)

The art work by the wife and husband team of Durgabai Vyam and Subhash Vyam illuminates the narrative in startling ways. They belong to the Pardhan Gond community of Central India. Bhimayana’s art work is located in the broader tradition of Gond art. This book is an act of homage to artist Jangarh Singh Shyam (1960-2001) who can be seen as the “father” of the “Jangarh Kalam” of modern Indian art. 

Page number five of Bhimayana carries the first artwork of the book, and it is a full-length portrait of Shyam. Rendered in the Jangarh Kalam style, the portrait has bullocks running on his arms, fishes swimming in his torso, a bird and a deer on his legs. In a neat inversion of “the personality of the artist in his work”, what we have in this portrait is the evocation of the social ecology and art world of an artist. Instead of finding the artist in his art work, in a delightful inversion of the platitudes and debates of western aesthetics, we literally find the artist’s art in him, albeit in this case inside his portrait.

The book is littered with similar irreverent and playful inversions of the western graphic book genre. Instead of the narratives being framed by ‘sidebars’ we have digna patterns from Gond art arriving at some form of paneling. Patterns of rice, mustard seeds, and moa grass are used to fill blank spaces. Chapter number headings morph into rats and snakes, amongst other creatures. 

Reflecting the social ecology of Gondi art, trains become snakes, tanks become fishes, peacocks signify the joy in the hearts of the people of Chalisgaon while welcoming Ambedkar; and, elephants and cows join the five lakh-strong human multitudes congregated for perhaps the biggest single event of conversion (from Hinduism to Buddhism) in human history in 1956 led by him.

Bhimayana is also an act of recovery and restoration. Although Ambedkar  has perhaps more statues erected to him than other comparable Indians such as Gandhi and Nehru put together, he remains a Dalit icon, and not really a national one. Although he fought his battles against untouchability and caste discrimination on universal principles, he is perceived as a Dalit intellectual. It is the supposedly parochial conventions of Gondi art that go a long way in restoring Ambedkar to the universal narrative of human freedom without excising him from the living, and suffering, community to which he belongs.

Like Bhimayana, AGITW is also a pioneering work. As mentioned in the blurb, it is perhaps the first graphic rendering of a historical work of non-fiction in India. It recovers Savitribai’s life from the forgetfulness of Indian history. She played a key role in the anti-caste crusade of Phule.

The wasteland in the title of AGITW refers to the wasteland of caste, and the gardener is Jotiba Phule. He was unique amongst the 19th century social reformers in India. He was resolutely anti-caste and steadfastly opposed the formulations of Hindu scriptures and myths. He foresaw the role that widespread, common school education could play in checking the excesses of caste-based prejudices and discriminations, and in moving towards a more egalitarian society. 

Cover of 'A Gardner in the Wasteland'

AGITW  is also a beautiful book. In comparison with Bhimayana, however, it pales in lustre. In many ways this book is also an act of restoration. Although the polemic in Gulamgiri is between Jotiba and his friend, Dhondiba, AGITW tries to recover the life of Jotiba’s wife, Savitribai Phule’s life as well from the forgetfulness of Indian history. 

Savitribai played a crucial role in the anti-caste crusade of Phule, and was a key influence on his ideas and formulations. This book tries to restore her story by framing the book’s narrative through her experiences and not only through Jotiba’s. 

The artwork in the book is spare, yet competently and beautifully done. My chief quibble with this book, in a lighter vein, is the way it treats human body hair. All the “unlikeable” people in this volume have an excess of body hair. Why? 

Navayana, the publisher of these two volumes, must be congratulated for producing the books. Both deserve to be widely read, not only for the life histories narrated by them that we must engage with, but also for the visual feast they offer to our eyes.

Bibliographic Details: Srividya Natarajan and Aparajita Ninan. 2011. A Gardener in the Wasteland. New Delhi: Navayana. 128 Pages. Rs. 220.

Durgabai Vyam, Subhas Vyam, Srividya Natarajan and S Anand. 2011. Bhimayana: Experiences of Untouchability. New Delhi: Navayana. 106 Pages. Rs.395

Note: A different version of this review essay was first published in the newsmagazine 'Hard News' in 2012. 

What I want to talk about Sailen Routray Detail of the Church of the Assumption of Mary in Lychivka, Khmelnytskyi Raion, Khmelnytskyi Oblast...