Tales from two frames

November 30, 2015 01:12 pm | Updated 01:12 pm IST - Bengaluru

Hindu, Marathi novel by Sharanakumara Limbale Translated into Kannada by Prameela Madhav

Navakarnataka Publications, Rs.120

Sharanakumara Limbale is an important contemporary Marathi Dalit activist, writer and critic. The Kannada translation of his novel ‘Hindu’ presents an overview of the complex nature of Dalit experiences.

The novel is set in a remote village in Maharashtra, Achalapura, which is later named after the Dalit activist Tathya Kumble who through his ‘jalsa’ folk theatre motivated Dalits in the village for social, political and even religious action. His brutal murder in a Dalit congregation by a group of upper caste men and subsequent suffering inflicted on the Dalits of the village by the scheming forces form the crux of the story. Of course, the novel is not about the mystery of the murder. In fact, there is no mystery at all in the murder of the Dalit leader. The murderers and the murdered, and the motivation for the murder are well known to everyone. But that the murder is one of the offshoots of intolerance of the upper caste towards the Dalits (like the rape of helpless Dalit woman, the nude procession of yet another Dalit woman who failed to satiate the desire of the temple priest in the aftermath of the murder) is what makes the story poignant. In this powerful and dense novel, the conflicts are too many and irreconcilable. Manipulative politics of the vested interests mixed up with murder, rape, lechery, intolerance, jealousy and hatred create a distinctive experience. The complex nature of pressure groups and affiliations among the Dalit community make it extremely difficult to find solutions to their multiple issues. The form of the novel is unorthodox in many ways. Constant switches between the first person narratives to the omniscient, interspersed with song like short poems make the reading interesting. The novel is full of rich imageries and symbols.

But, unlike the writings of Kannada Dalit writers, who contextualize their experiences within the realm of a particular socio-economic order, Limbale tries to foreground his ideological understanding of the village – in the process, though the issues that are delineated here are ‘politically’ correct, the novel demands an empathetic reader. Interestingly, in this novel, the issues of Dalit have just amalgamated with that of class of the upper caste. Of course, what is praiseworthy in the novel is that the women’s issues are on an honest plane - it is not just the Dalit women who are subjected to inhuman treatment, but also the upper caste women who are forced to lead a life subjugation and ill will. But Limbale does not recognize a single sane non-Dalit voice in this novel.

It is always very difficult to evaluate a translated work like this. The reader would not be able to either credit or discredit the translator (Pramila Madhav), since it is twice removed – Marathi to Hindi to Kannada. However, here Kannada language used is a little bizarre. For instance, “Gopala hudugaru karannu nodi vandisuttiddaru”, “Naanu abhimaniside”, “Naanu samvedanaashunyanade”. One of the reasons could be being very faithful to the structures of the original text. Thus this book certainly does not read like an original novel in Kannada despite socio-cultural similarities between Kannada and Marathi Dalit experiences.

Aadukula, a novel by Shridhar Balagar

Ankita Pustaka, Rs.150

Aadukala is the second novel of Shridhar Balagar. There are many fascinating features which make this an enjoyable novel.

Most important of them is the milieu of the story which revolves round a house, called Aadukala, situated in a modest village, Bidralli. Bidralli resembles any of the villages in Malenad. The lush and dense greenery, a long stretch of wet and cultivated land, sugarcane and paddy fields, honey bees, cattle sheds, workers and their quarters, parrots, sparrows, snakes, and the incessant rains in the village mark the distinct nature of Malenad.

The known and the unknown forces that threaten the very existence of individuals and the continued human survival despite all the complex socio-economic and cultural changes that take place within one’s own lifetime, forms the theme of the novel. Dasharath, a representative of the decadent clan, is both an observer and an unfortunate subject of decadence. Because of his predicament, he is indifferent to his own possessions and priorities. An animal intrudes into his privacy and he is made vulnerable to the manoeuvrings of people around him. He is surrounded by the greedy and selfish neighbourhood, the jealous and avaricious legatees, relatives, friends and the snooping villagers. Mystery shrouds around his life and he does not understand why things have been so cruel to him always. However, invoking mysterious elements to explain the perplexities of life, sounds problematic in the otherwise realistic narrative. The mystery of three disappearances, one, of Savithri, the wife of Dasharatha, two, of Bakhala, the honey collector, and three of Dasharatha, appear mysterious. Similarly, there seems to be something abnormal about the women in the novel. Savithri undergoes a gender change, Sharada, despite being married, remains single and indifferent to the worldly possessions, Kamakshi, though vivacious, has a hidden past and gets possessed often, Chennamma becomes Manjula after getting converted into a ‘new’ caste, and more. The eventual tragedies in the lives of Savithri and Dasharatha are contrasted with the ‘success’ stories of Ganganna, Ganapaiah, Suranna, and the film actor Kantharaj. The lone curative factor in the village represented by the Ayurvedic doctor Madguni has no place in the new dispensation of allopathic doctors who invade the life of Dasharatha.

Amidst all the problems of monotonous and depressing existence, there is yet another dimension of village life which is full of amusements. Harvest, religious festivities, sugarcane festival, honey collection, mass feeding, Kamakshi frequently possessed by a Goddess and her words having deep impact on villagers, blind beliefs - are all marked unintended happy episodes which are narrated intermittently. The lone death in the novel is depicted in allits sobriety.

The narrative in general is just delightful. Each chapter has an apt title and offers an indication of what would transpire during the course of the chapter.

There are many dialectal variations in the Kannada used in the narrative. The characters of Aadukala speak a marked dialect of Kannada which could be called Havyaka dialect. The lingayat characters speak north Karnataka dialect where as the narratorial voice is of a ‘neutral poetic’ dialect.

The novel is extremely readable in spite of its dawdling pace and a willing reader would be rewarded with a rich poetic experience. It has an interesting Foreword by N. Manu Chakravarthy.

The Kannada translation of his novel ‘Hindu’ presents an overview of the complex nature of Dalit experiences

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