A voice for women

On October 29 falls the 30th death anniversary of Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay. Paying tribute to the grand lady who changed the way society looked at women, we carry excerpts from acclaimed Kannada writer Vaidehi’s book on her

October 26, 2017 02:28 pm | Updated 02:37 pm IST

Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay (centre) with Sarojini Naidu

Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay (centre) with Sarojini Naidu

Do you know Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay from close quarters? Wasn’t she your contemporary?” I asked Kota Lakshminarayan Karanth once. Cursing his forgetfulness and praising his younger brother, Dr. Shivarama Karanth’s phenomenal memory, this 91-year-old pathbreaking educationist would recollect from his “wretched” memory: “I met her only once in Mangalore. It was the year 1926 I think…What an exquisitely beautiful young lady she was! Already committed to public life, she had a vast collection of books. ‘Can I borrow some books from your library?’ I asked her. She recalled that I was a classmate of her ex-husband’s younger brother and said, ‘Why not? But remember to return them within seven days.’ I went to her place in Kodialbail, a mansion opposite the cart stand. I borrowed Trotsky’s History of Russian Revolution. I promptly returned it within a week. Kamaladevi was delighted. ‘ Nobody has ever returned my books on time. I had to be strict, you know, as books once lent just disappear into thin air!’, she said.

****

Agecannot wither nor custom stale h er infinite variety”

Kamaladevi Chattopadhyaya - was in Bangalore to attend the Zonal Theatre Festival. Just the right height, she was by then well into her Eighties. Time had drawn its picturesque lines on her full face. The wrinkles and sagging muscles played rhythmically as she spoke. The tell-tale signs had only chiselled her into a graceful, ripe beauty. K.V. Subbanna introduced me to her as the translator of her work, “Indian Women’s Struggle for Freedom” into Kannada. Looking sharply at me, she asked Subbanna: “Has she done justice to it?” Her eyes were gleaming like the edge of a sword , sending a slight shiver down the spine. Smiles were infrequent visitors on this aristocratic visage.

There were bangles on her hands – not of gold, but what tribal women made in remote corners of India. Her ethnic handspun sari with a border and pallu seemed to derive its elegance from the charming wearer.

Not many knew her as a Mangalorean, as she left home early on to join the Swaraj movement. Only a few were in touch with her. For the new generation, Chattopadhyaya sounded a Bengali by birth!

***

Back to Mangalore days … A wedding ceremony was in progress. Bride - a Brahmin, the groom was a non-Brahmin. The elders overseeing the “arrangements” of this match were none other than Rajaji and Kamaladevi’s maternal uncle. Rajaji had come to play the part of the bridegroom’s father. The uncle introduced little Kamala to Rajaji.

“What do you want to become when you grow up?” Rajaji asked the feisty young girl who stood like a willow, head held high.

Kamala: I want to reform society, especially the condition of Indian women.

Rajaji: You are ambitious!

Kamala: Of course!

Softly Rajaji ‘s hand patted the girl’s head.

When Annie Besant visited Mangalore Kamala’s mother, Girijabai, had taken her to seek the blessings of the venerable lady. Girijabai was in close touch with Pune’s formidable women. She had founded a Women’s organization in Mangalore in 1912 itself. Freedom fighters, existential warriors, front door visitors, father’s drawing room buddies and mother’s pyol pals- all went into the melting pot of Kamala’s childhood. She had already come across tormented women, their tales of exploitation and deception, the solitary strife of her widowed and disinherited mother, sisters and aunt.

Kamala’s sparkling repartee to Rajaji had emerged from this backdrop… Pune’s avante garde radicals brought clarity to her life’s purpose. Gandhiji’s speech in Mangalore in 1917 mesmerised her. In 1924, during the All India Congress Conference in Belgaum, Dr. Hardikar and Smt. Uma Bai Kundapura asked Kamala’s assistance in training volunteers. This was Kamala’s debut of sorts in public life.

In 1927, the first session of The All India Women’s Conference was held in Pt. Rama Bai’s Seva Sadan, Pune. Kamala put her heart and soul as a volunteer. Noting her efficiency, the Executive Committee comprising Margaret Cousins and Sarojini Naidu selected her as the future Secretary of the Conference. Thus began the journey of responsibility, up the ladder, step by step. As Secretary, she travelled all over the country. She made the AIWC take up issues like accommodation for women labourers, crèche for their children, special allowance for pregnant women etc. She used to personally go to the Legislative Assembly to discuss laws with the people’s representatives. She ran from pillar to post, meeting key legislators, seeking their vote for Harbilas Sharada Act abolishing child marriage. She met Motilal Nehru, who looked at her, and said: “What brings you here, sweetheart?’’

“Your party must support the Sharada Bill,” said Kamala and almost immediately added: “You WILL support us, won’t you?”

Motilal: (in his typical raised voice) You slip of a girl, how dare you suggest what we should vote for!

Kamala: Oh! I see, your issue is my age! Okay, wait. I will bring along some old grannies!

So saying , Kamala fled the place. Later, whenever Motilal met Kamala, he used to laugh recollecting this. Sharada Bill was passed.

***

For the young Kamala, active participation in the independence struggle went hand in hand with the responsibilities of AIWC. She was in close contact with prominent national leaders including Gandhiji, but held her own before all eminence. If she disagreed with them, she did it with courage and conviction. A sensitive and reflective writer, she travelled through remote villages to get first hand knowledge of the real riddles plaguing the country.

Her perspective on Salt Satyagraha was unique. Gandhiji, more concerned about women than women themselves, did not favour their joining Salt Satyagraha! Kamala was flabbergasted. If women could be trusted to look after the Ashram in his absence, why couldn’t they be allowed to take part in the independence movement?

Kamaladevi went straight to Gandhiji. In the thick of Dandi March, he was camping in a village. When she appealed to him for women’s equal participation in Salt Sathyagraha, she got Bapu’s broad smile in reply.”I think you don’t know about your sisters,” he said.

“I know. That is why I am requesting you.”

She refuted all his arguments.

Finally, Gandhiji had to yield to her perseverance. What confidence the Salt Satyagraha inspired in women ! Gandhiji conceded that women were the most important weapons in the march for Swaraj !!

***

The dreamer in Kamala began to visualize a composite cultural renaissance of music, drama, painting and sculpture. If today, dhrupad, thumri and ghazals are part of artistes’ repertoire, it is due to the untiring efforts of Kamaladevi who later founded the Sangeeth Natak Akademy. Our theatre those days was just regional stage episodes - not a discipline to be studied. Kamaladevi realized the theatre practitioners’ need for a school, curriculum and training by professional teachers. National School of Drama was the outcome of this foresight.

She built a dedicated army of enthusiasts who strove to unearth weavers, the rich but dying handloom legacies of Kanchivaram, Gadwal, Pochampalli, Paithani, and Jamdani. Her autobiography, “Inner Recesses Outer Spaces’, is not just a chronicle of independence movement but a singular narrative thronging with personalities from the world of art.

***

Kamaladevi was majestic and transparent, yet very private; a perfect blend of tradition and sophistication, beauty and brains.

Her sparkling humour and mimicry would have people around her in splits. She had fashioned her own signature style, setting a trend for generations to come.

Breaking the shackles of outdated societal mores, she had carved her own path. She was a phenomenal force, an epitome of feminine grace and creativity.

An atypical stateswoman commanding love, respect and awe though never seeking the spoils of power. A true feminist in her own right and a truer woman – her life reads like a legend and a myth.

Translated by Sumathi Niranjan Karody

0 / 0
Sign in to unlock member-only benefits!
  • Access 10 free stories every month
  • Save stories to read later
  • Access to comment on every story
  • Sign-up/manage your newsletter subscriptions with a single click
  • Get notified by email for early access to discounts & offers on our products
Sign in

Comments

Comments have to be in English, and in full sentences. They cannot be abusive or personal. Please abide by our community guidelines for posting your comments.

We have migrated to a new commenting platform. If you are already a registered user of The Hindu and logged in, you may continue to engage with our articles. If you do not have an account please register and login to post comments. Users can access their older comments by logging into their accounts on Vuukle.