Saturday, June 4, 2011

Remembering Tagore: The Path to Walk On

Translated by: Bhaswati Ghosh

This, indeed, is the path to walk on.

It has wound its way through the woods to the fields, through the fields to the riverbank, next to the banyan tree; then it courses its way through the villages. As it moves further, beside the lush fields, amid the shadows of the mango orchards, by the bank of the Padma River, I cannot tell in which village it would wind up.

So many people have passed by me on this path, some joining my company, others seen from afar; some with a veil over their heads, others without any; some walking to fetch water, others returning with water.

II

The day has retreated and darkness descends.

Once this path had seemed personal, intimately mine; now I see I carried a summon to walk on it just once, no more.

Past the lime trees, the pond, the riverbank, the cowsheds, the paddy mounds, the familiar glances, the known words, the acquainted circles, there won't be any returning to say "Hey there!"

This is the path to walk on, not one to return from.

This hazy evening, I turned back once and found the path to be an ode to many a forgotten footstep, all entwined in the notes of Bhairavi.

This path has summarized all the stories of all its travelers in a single dirt trail; the one track that traverses between sunrise and sunset, from one golden gate to another.

III

"Dear walking path, don't keep all the stories you have accumulated through the ages tied quietly into your dust strand. I am pressing my ears against your dust, whisper them to me."

The path remains silent, pointing its index finger toward the dark curtain of night.

"Dear walking path, where have the worries and desires of all the travelers gone?"

The mute path doesn't talk. It just lays down signals between sunrise and sunset.

"Dear walking path, the feet that embraced your bosom like a shower of wildflowers, are they nowhere today?"

Does the path know its end—where forgotten flowers and silent songs reach, where starlight illumines a Diwali of resplendent pain.

(Bhaswati Ghosh writes and translates fiction and non-fiction. Her stories have appeared in Letters to My Mother and My Teacher is My Hero– anthologies of true stories published by Adams Media. Her first work of translation from Bengali into English–In Conversation with Ramkinkar–will be published by Delhi-based Niyogi Books in 2011. This work also won her the Charles Wallace (India) Trust Fellowship for translation in 2009. Bhaswati has contributed to several websites (including Parabaas, Asia Writes, Notun Desh, Chowk) and print magazines (Teenage Buzz, ByLine, Cause and Effect). She blogs at: http://bhaswatighosh.com/ )

Friday, June 3, 2011

Remembering Tagore: Noukadubi (Kashmakash) Movie Review

-Kartik Ramaswamy

I am thoroughly convinced that Rabindranath Tagore was awarded his Nobel prize for Literature not just because of his quality of writing but because of his immense capability to think about situations that mere mortals like us cannot. He then makes us feel even closer to being just “mere” by weaving a story that is a myriad of complicated emotions way beyond our comprehension. And what probably makes us feel so regular is that we understand what he writes and are able to relate to it in a manner that no one else can probably get us to. Noukadubi is one of Gurudev’s 8 novels and if the movie is remotely close to the novel (I have made a mental note to try and pick this up) then I am certain it will be an excellent read. But then again, who are we but mere mortals to shower praise on the likes of THE Thakur. A pity I have only seen his works translated into movies and not read his works – maybe it would be beyond my understanding.

In the same breath as I am elated to have come across a story like Noukadubi, I was also extremely disappointed to realize that Kashmakash is a version dubbed in Hindi. As of now, I am as convinced about Gurudev’s greatness as I am about Subhash Ghai’s senility. Dear Mr. Ghai – you have tried to entertain us for nearly 5 decades now. It is time that you take a break. You seriously need that. How else would you explain the crappy dubbing of a movie that can be seen at worst case with sub titles? The finer nuances of Bengali can never be emulated by any other language. Now I am a Tam Bram Iyer boy born and bought up in Mumbai city but who genuinely believes that he should have been Bong. Mind you I can only understand the language and have never made an effort to speak it (regrettably) and yet, I felt the job was extremely shoddy. Much as I am a Gulzar fan, I thought the lyrics were just not in place to substitute to Tagore’s melody and sweetness. Please to be watching subtitled Bengali version not dubbed Hindi version.

Raima Sen as always has landed a plum role with that of Hem-Nalini and is as composed and calm as she always is. I would guess this is the 2nd movie that the sisters are acting together and I still believe that Riya Sen has miles to go before she sleeps. Some of the reviews call out her performance as commendable, but I was not too impressed. If speaking under your breath through your teeth as if you would hurt someone if you spoke louder is a great performance then maybe yes. Then again, I haven’t read the book so I guess I would not be in a position to interpret how the vastly over rated Rituparno Ghosh has. I have no clue to what's the big deal about him. He makes movies that are so slow that one could snooze in between 2 dialogues or even 2 frames and probably nothing would have moved anywhere. In this one, even the way everyone walks is like life in slow motion. A bit over the top I say. Jisshu Sengupta as Ramesh Babu and Prosenjit Chatterjee as Nalinaksha Chattopadhyay both provide solid performances. But then again, Noukadubi is not about acting or direction. It is the capability of the Thakur to weave a story around the complex emotions that 5 human beings go through in their day to day lives through marriage, friendship, love, parenthood and so on. 7 on 10 purely because of Rabindranath Tagore’s brilliant story writing capabilities. Thank you so very much Gurudev… and yes…belated 150th birthday!

(Kartik is extremely passionate about movies and sport and he blogs movie reviews at http://www.kartikr.blogspot.com/)

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Remembering Tagore: His letters to two women

-Malashri Lal

(This piece titled ‘Epistolary Moments’ appeared in The Hindu: Literary Review. We would like to thank Prof. Malashri Lal for allowing us to reproduce the piece here for our readers)

Rabindranath's story “Streer Patra” (Wife's Letter) is a perennial favourite among readers for exposing the patriarchal baggage of landowning, upper crust families in Bengal. Tagore was artistically using the subterfuge of the epistolary form to enter the mind, voice and experience of Mrinal, who places her critical comments at the ‘lotus feet' of a blissfully unaware husband. Pouring anger against a system that allows women to be neglected, abused and abandoned, Mrinal decides that she will not return to a home that denies her dignity or intellectual space.

In his own life, Rabindranath Tagore wrote hundreds of letters, in Bengali as well as in English, not quite expecting that they may cohere into aesthetic patterns or reveal personal details after his death. Letters are perhaps the most intimate tools of self expression. Famous people write them without considering that they may turn into public documents. As India celebrates the 150th birth year of Tagore, these letters become as much a part of his literary legacy as any consciously crafted fiction, poetry or prose.

Here I offer glimpses into letters Rabindranath wrote to two women, his Argentinean host Victoria Ocampo and his wife Mrinalini Devi with the intention of highlighting his deep engagement with issues concerning the place of women in society. He was deeply attached to both women though the closeness was vastly separated in time and different in quality. With Victoria, it was almost a romantic interlude; with Mrinalini, it was a steady companionship.

Victoria, the bideshini (foreigner/ stranger), came unexpectedly into his life. In 1924, Rabindranath Tagore fell ill during a voyage in South America and had to unexpectedly break journey in Argentina. He spent two months as the guest of Victoria Ocampo, a wealthy and ardent reader of Tagore, who arranged a villa for his rest and recuperation. It was a most unusual relationship, part romance, part adulation. Tagore was 63 years old at the time, a widower of long duration. Victoria Ocampo was 34. He was a celebrated poet, she an aspiring litterateur. Victoria was married to Bernando de Estrada but had left him, without a formal divorce, for a lover, Julián Martínez. Tagore's accompanying secretary was the suave Englishman, Leonard Elmhirst, himself engaged to be married in a few months. The stage was set for a fascinating play of cultural contrasts and aroused emotions.

Rabindranath and Victoria wrote numerous letters to each other, beginning in 1924 when they are in the same city of Buenos Aires, sometimes in the same estate, and their letters continued sporadically till Tagore passed away in 1941. Their early friendship offers glimpses of mutual attraction, diffidence, friendly banter, and a strong longing for emotional fulfilment. Rabindranath renames Victoria, ‘Vijaya' (Bengali for Victorious), and teaches her the one Bengali word that is important — ‘ Bhalobasha' or ‘love'. In his Indian-English, and in her French and Spanish inflected English, they carry on expressing their need for each other — except that they cannot give this relationship a label or a name. ‘Vijaya' speaks often of the night, and actually writes one letter at 3.00 a.m. and another at 6.30 a.m. Rabindranath confesses to the ‘enormous burden of loneliness' he carries within himself . He is puzzled about gender issues in the East and West and discusses what may happen when ‘modern feminists want to compete with men in an open field of work.' She is occasionally peeved because he doesn't acknowledge the ‘intellectual' woman.

Here are a few samples drawn from Ketaki Kushari Dyson's book, In your Blossoming Flower-Garden:

Victoria: “Can you forget your Indian sky, even if you had no chances of seeing it again”…. “…let me drink your pain. I have nothing to offer. I can only long for the shelter of your ‘poorness' in the partaking of your pain” (20/21 November 1924) .

Victoria: “Gurudev, I have gone through such joy and such sufferings all these days! Joy because I felt near you; suffering because you ignored my nearness”. November/December 1924)

And what were Rabindranath's feelings?

In his first letter to Ocampo he writes with amazing candour, “It is difficult for you to realise what an enormous burden of loneliness I carry about me...My market value has risen high and my personal value has been obscured. This value I seek to realise with an aching desire…This can be had only from a woman's love and I have been hoping for a long time that I deserve it.” (14 November 1924)

Rabindranath Tagore shares his theories of gender psychology with Victoria. “The modern human females are never tired of accusing us of violence and tyranny, they do not know that it is a perverse expression of our inherent contemplative placidness repressed and tortured through the compelling necessity for us to be the useful members of society.” (5 January, 1925).

On leaving Argentina, Tagore yearned to explain himself to Vijaya; to remain in contact with her, yet pursue his own dreams in Shantiniketan. He wove ‘Vijaya' into his poetry sequence titled Purabi, explaining that it was about ‘the East in its Feminine gender.'

Could Tagore share the same kind of companionate relationship with his wife Mrinalini Debi whom he fondly addressed in letters as ‘Bahi Chuti', or ‘Bhai Choto Bou'? Was the wife and mother in an Indian home to be treated differently than the ‘ Western woman' even in the epistolary mode? Theories apart, it could not have been easy to be the wife to Rabindranath. He was married when 22 years old, to 10-year-old Bhabatarini, the daughter of an employee in the Tagore estates (1883). The family went about renaming her Mrinalini, appointing tutors to rid her of her Jessore accent in Bengali, and teaching her the civilities and manners of a premier household. She was also sent to Loreto School to learn English. In this makeover, Mrinalini developed her own unique personality as the mother of five children, a caregiver to all those who came asking for help, including a Punjabi darwan who needed a constant supply of wheat for his chapattis. She was known for her culinary skills, improvising the exotic recipes that Rabindranath brought to her. (It is believed that he helped her cook, at times). She assisted in the elaborate dressing up of women in the Tagore household but neglected her own appearance. One evening when she was persuaded to wear showy earrings, she quickly covered up her ears when Tagore appeared on the scene!

Rabindranath wrote several letters to Mrinalini from 1890 to 1902, the year of her untimely death. But what did he speak about? Mostly about functional household matters: how were the children Beli and Khoka; was the estate doing well; had money been paid to so and so; what happened to 15 seers of ghee that had been purchased? If there is any personal note, it is to ask Mrinalini if she is taking regular walks or is she indulgently reading novels. Occasionally there is a peeve, that she does not answer his letters fast enough. He misses home, he occasionally dreams of his family…but love towards his wife is lumped with the love towards his children and the larger context of the household. There is only one letter in which Tagore yields to tender emotion when he reports a dream, “ I caressed you a little and said I left my body and came to see you…” (29 August 1890). Mrinalini's letters to her husband have probably not been preserved, but we know of her devotion to his ideal of the Shantiniketan school and her extending a maternal care to the young brahmacharis who came to live in the ashram. She gave away all her jewels to meet the financial needs of the school, Rathi Tagore reporting that “ma” was left with only a few gold bangles on her wrist.

Mrinalini passed way in 1902, a devoted wife, mother and partner in Tagore's struggles. But she was never his Muse. In his last letter to her, Rabindranath writes, “It is my hope that we will discipline all our uncontrolled desires and surrender ourselves to god's supreme wish.” He saw duty towards his children, and a commitment to social causes as the greatest contribution that he could make as a householder, scholar and institution builder.

Rabindranath stayed faithful to her memory and never married again, but did he continue to see the Western woman as the emancipatory ideal for women in India to aspire towards? Such thoughts were expressed in essays such as “Woman and Home” and “The Indian Ideal of Marriage”. Yet the fact remains that “ Streer Patra” is his published story about protest, but the husband's letters remained in the realm of the private.

Malashri Lal is professor in the Department of English at the University of Delhi.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Review: In Custody Women in Tihar


A book similar in theme to Mafia Queens of Mumbai, that I recently read would be In Custody: Women in Tihar.  The book is about the women inmates of Tihar Jail, Delhi. Tihar is one of the largest prisons in South East Asia. The prison has been in the news for all the reforms that have taken place under Kiran Bedi’s stint as Director General of Prisons.

The text in the book is accompanied by candid photographs of the inmates. It shows how these women, despite the wretchedness of their existence, manage to effectively spend their time in the prison. Lots of vocational courses such as weaving, stitching, agarbatti making, crèche management and beauty treatment are offered to the inmates so that they are prepared to live an independent, crime free life once they are out of the prison. Stories of friendship, peaceful co-existence despite different backgrounds that these women come from, make the book a very heartwarming read.

The children here are brought up in a crèche inside the prison till they turn five after which they are sent to hostels. These crèches are run by Kiran Bedi’s NGO Navjyoti in the afternoons and in the mornings by other NGOs. Again the pictures that accompany the text will tug everyone’s heartstrings.

Though this does not take away the pain and desolation of a life in confinement that these women lead still the reforms that have been brought in make their lives a lot more worthwhile than what they were living. The book holds a mirror to the lives of these women without offering an opinion on how things have changed for them, yet, it makes for an immensely positive read.

It was a good and insightful read.

The women behind this book:

Text by: Amba Batra Bakshi.
She was born in New Delhi in 1980 and did her schooling from Modern School and The Lawrence School, Sanawar.

She graduated in Journalism from Lady Shriram College, and went on to do her Masters at City University, UK and, in 2007 pursued Advance Non-Fiction writing at Harvard. She has been a news reporter since 2000 and has worked with the Indian Express, The Asian Age and The Guardian.In 2004, she recieved an award from the Press Institute of India for a series of stories on the lack of night sheltersin the winter, for homeless women in capital. She currently lives in New Delhi with her husband and eight-month-old son.

Photographs by: Renuka Puri

She was born in 1969 in a remote village in Himachal Pradesh. After studying in the village school, she completed high school from Haryana and then joined the Arts College, Chandigarh to pursue Graphic Design. She worked in an ad agency before taking to photography, a better medium, she feels, for expressing herself and a more satisfying career. After freelancing for a few magazines and the U.P Tourism department, she joined The Indian Express in 1997. Having captured a number of interesting subjects from fashion shows to political developments, she was choosen by Fuzi films, in 2005, as one of the super six women photographers, and her work was displayed around the country.


Review: Mafia Queens of Mumbai: Stories of Women from the Ganglands


Mumbai is a city full of stories of gang wars, mafia, land mafia, drug mafia, nefarious activities, smuggling dens and names such as Dawood, Chotta Shakeel, Abu Salem, Arun Gawli are well known. But have you heard of names like Jenabai, Gangubai, Ashraf alias Sapna? Well not many would have since these women were not as spoken about in the mafia world as much as the men. But these are few of the women covered in S.Hussain Zaidi’s  (with Jane Borges)book Mafia Queens of Mumbai: Stories of Women from the Gangland.

With a foreword by Vishal Bharadwaj and a promise by him to make a movie on one of these women, the stories in this book are all Bollywood worthy stories. Did you know that Haji Mastan the dreaded gangster of Mumbai depended on Jenabai’s insights to take important decisions or that Gangubai, the matriarch of Kamathipura, is still revered as a goddess by many in the red light area? Gangubai is also said to have convinced and impressed Nehru with her wit and clarity of thought. I personally liked Ashraf’s story. Ashraf whose husband was shot dead in a fake encounter on the request of Dawood sets herself a goal of eliminating the man. She is almost close to doing that but ultimately fails. The story I found most unconvincing is that of Abu Salem’s actress girfriend Monica Bedi.  Arun Gawli’s wife comes across as a huge support system for the dreaded gangster turned politician, the ambitious Neeta Naik and many more such women.

The book makes for an insightful read.  It shows how powerful some women have been in the world hugely dominated by men. While some have been a support to their men by constantly guiding them and helping them some managed to make it on their own.

Interesting read.  If the world of Mumbai Mafia intrigues you this book should be in your ‘to read’ list.

About the Authors:

S.Hussain Zaidi  is considered one of the leading crime journalists in the country. He is the author of the bestselling Black Friday: The True Story of the Bombay Bomb Blasts and is currently resident editor of the Asian Age, Mumbai.

Jane Borges is a journalist with the Asian Age, Mumbai.

Review: A Discovery of Witches


Reviewed by : Shivani Singh 

Set in a world where witches, vampires and daemons exist along with humans, A Discovery Of Witches revolves around Diana Bishop, who is the last witch in a legacy consisting of powerful ancestors. But Diana is different from the rest, much to the dismay of the others of her species. Ever since the horrific death of her parents when she was seven, Diana refused to use magic since she held it to blame for her being orphaned, despite the fact that her lineage had ensured that she had powers and abilities that other witches could only dream of. As a historian at Oxford, she pours herself into research surrounding alchemy for a conference. This not only causes a drastic change in her world, but stirs the interest of other creatures too.
In the Bodleian Library, Diana calls in a manuscript named Ashmole 728. As she examines and reads it, she can feel magic exuding from the book. But she resists using magic to decipher what was hidden in the manuscript. From then on, Diana finds herself surrounded by various creatures both hostile and helpful. One of these is Matthew Clairmont, a 1500 year old vampire who develops an interest in her. He explains to her the story of the manuscript, which went missing in 1859. Since then, there had been a search for it because of its coveted contents. Witches, vampires and daemons all wanted the manuscript in their possession, as it contained secrets of tremendous significance about them. As a result, all kinds of creatures set out to seek the manuscript from her.

In spite of Diana's blood appealing strongly to Matthew, he takes up the role of her protector amidst the dangers her life is suddenly fraught with. As they spend more time together, Diana falls for him without realizing the consequences of a relationship with a creature from another species. Its's not just external forces that force their bond on tethers, though. As Diana gets to know Matthew better, she unravels secrets kept from her by him.

But with time, Diana realizes that Matthew is not the only one who has been keeping secrets. She gets to know more about her parents that leaves her heart-broken. Eventually, Diana is caught in a battle between who she is and who she has been made to believe she is. Will she use the magic that has been building up in her for so long to the extent that it's not even within her control? And will Matthew succeed in protecting her from the multiple threats on her life? Can she manage to be true to her namesake, Diana who was the Goddess of the Hunt and track down the manuscript before it falls into wrong hands?
A Discovery of Witches is a highly compelling read, even though its vast length makes it an endurance test. Deborah Harkness has combined history, science and her splendid imagination to spin a unique tale. It is high on intellect and historical references considering the protagonist's profession, thus making it a challenging read at times. But it keeps your mind reeling - and is definitely a challenge worth taking. 

(Shivani Singh, who has just appeared for her 10th grade exams, is an avid reader and a writer in the making.)

Remembering Tagore: Mind Without Fear


"Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up
into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason
has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action---
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake."