She wove place and people into her script

Goa and the Nilgiris formed the backdrop of many of Rajam Krishnan’s stories

CHENNAI; TAMILNADU01/02/2014;Tamil writer Rajam Krishnan on Saturday Photo: M_PRABHU

Rajam Krishnan’s works — short stories or novels — were invariably positioned in places where she spent long periods, for instance the Nilgiris, Goa and Chennai. I remember Meenkari (Fisherwoman), a short story collection, where the scene of action is Goa and its suburbs. Wish someone brought those short stories back on print although her ‘Valaikkaram’ novel based on Goa liberation was more famous.

Today marks the third anniversary of her passing and an appropriate moment to talk about her work. Only I would like to focus on the less famous stories. ‘Puyalin Maiyam’ (Eye of the Storm), for example. This novel has links to both Goa and the Nilgiris. The protagonist here is young Kathyayini, who leads an ascetic life as her husband has become a zombie having been brutalised by the Portuguese in the Goa prisons. Kathya, who works as a school teacher and her old mother-in-law, who takes care of the household and the invalid son, are the silent sufferers.

Kathya’s mundane routine breaks when she meets meteorologist Kedarinath during a train journey. With an imbecile wife and three children, Kedarinath is in the same boat as Kathya’s. Rajam handles their relationship with subtlety without compromising the emotional quotient. The language, however, is tough, totally void of English words. This novel, not discussed much, is definitely worth reading.

Stories in inimitable style

A collection of 38 assorted short stories of the author, written in the latter part of her life, was brought out recently with the title,

Rajam Krishnan Short Stories by Seethai Pathippagam. Many of the stories in this collection are rather long to be called short. Dealing with the lives and endless problems of the middle, lower middle and poor classes, they carry her inimitable style of writing. The writer’s aversion to modernity (read luxury) is explicit. So also her feminism and leftist ideals.

I happened to revisit some other collections of her short stories with the titles ‘Kanavu’ (Dream), ‘Velichcham’ (Light) and ‘Aval’ (She) all of which were published by Dagam and ‘Manidhanum Jothiyum’ (Man and Light) by Pari Puthaka Pannai decades ago. The stories in these books are sourced from magazines, including

Kalki ,

Kalaimagal ,

Amudhasurabi ,

Thamarai,

Mangai,

Dinamani Kathir,

Puthiya Parvai,

Semmalar,

Deepam and

Bharatamani . Almost all of these bear strong criticism on the changing societal values, greed and moral decadence. Some of them like ‘Achcham’ (Fear), ‘Malligai Poo’ (Jasmine) ‘Olirum Nunnizhai’ (Shining Line of Hope) carry contrasting themes. ‘Alaigal’ (Waves) is a beautiful novella on a girl child, who yearns for her mother’s love.

It is really sad that even after nationalising her works, not many publishers are interested in printing her works. True, Rajam Krishnan’s novels and their themes may certainly sound obsolete to the new-gen readers; besides, tackling her prose — with its chaste Tamil and longwinding sentences — may not be an easy proposition. If the reader is able to overcome that, what awaits is a treasure.

I met Rajam Krishnan four decades ago at ‘Ilakkya Sinthanai’ function. I visited her Tambaram residence and to my delight, found her quite talkative. She gifted me her book, Amuthamagi Varuga (Come, As Nectar), a novel written in the backdrop of the Kundah Power Project in the Nilgiris. I have preserved that book in my personal library. Her conversations would seamlessly pass through several subjects. Later, I had several opportunities to interact and discuss the topics she had handled. She always came across as a writer, who considered writing as her mission to propagate values.

Personally, I feel writers are not made; they are born. Rajam Krishnan is one such narrator and autodidact. Otherwise she would not have ventured to write her first short story (she was in her teens and very much married) on the waste papers in the house and the pseudonym she took was ‘Lekhini.’