Agni matthu Male in English becomes ‘Fire and Rain.’ But ‘fire’ does not capture the sacredness that agni embodies. ‘Fire’ would only mean fire, benki in Kannada. At a deeper level, the combination of the words Agni and Male connote sacred vs profane,” said Girish Karnad, speaking on the intricacies involved in the process of Translation at a three-day literary festival, Lekhana . Translating from Kannada to English, in his experience, actually involves translating the cosmology of Kannada culture.
Being a playwright, Karnad specifically spoke on translating a play. “It requires further considerations. A good translator of poetry or prose need not necessarily be good at translating plays. As play is in a dialogic format, use of English must necessarily be in spoken form. As most Indians use English as official or academic language, its spoken form is rarely reproduced,” he lamented. Karnad had observed, when Alyque Padamsee had expressed his desire to stage his play Tughlaq in English, his own friend and widely acclaimed novelist, A.K. Ramanujan, though good at translating poetry, believed in getting across the meaning on the printed page neglecting the flow of the spoken language, much required for drama. Therefore, Karnad decided to translate his plays into English himself. Karnad advised the writers to sit down with the translator during the process of translation, as it would enable the translator to understand the intent and purpose of certain words and structures.
Remembering his childhood, he said, “India is a repertoire for Translation. Being a Konkani, I went to Marathi schools, learnt Kannada and loved English. For me, translation began at birth. India, being a multilingual space, provided that scope for translation.” If asked whether he writes for English audience, Girish expressed, “the playwright should belong to the culture for whom he writes his plays. Therefore I stick to Kannada.”
Speaking on the ethics of translation, Karnad posed the question, “where does Rasa , the emotional strength, of a play lie? Is it with the writer, translator, director, artists or the audience?” The success of the play, Karnad concluded, is said to depend on the involvement of the audience. “If the audience laugh, cry or think along with the character, then the play is believed to have fulfilled its purpose. Therefore, a translator has on his shoulder the mammoth task of bringing out the Rasa of the play,” Karnad remarked.
If Karnad spoke on what happens to languages during translation, Perumal Murugan, who is news in the recent times, spoke on how caste hierarchies get translated to the domain of freedom of speech and how language is used to perpetuate hierarchy.
Murugan pointed out, “certain words like ‘us, them, ours, theirs’ are used to demarcate caste identities. Different dialects of Tamil are treated differently in the State, assigning caste colours to them. Standard or official Tamil is often played by the main characters in drama and film whereas, colloquial slangs are spoken by the comedians and servants. These practices further reinforce caste hierarchy.” Semiotics of how a student stands before its teacher, he claimed, can be traced back to how lower castes were expected to stand before their superiors –shrinking the body and covering their mouth. “This was used as a method to enforce discipline by the higher castes. Disciplining is nothing but translating the bar on freedom of expression on lower castes” argued Murugan.
“Disrespectful words like da were used for dalits whereas Ayya and Sami had to be used for addressing their masters. The tone of the oppressor was also characterized by authoritativeness and ridicule. Acceptance, resignation and oppression were all that were left for us. When an objection is categorized as disobedience and a difference of opinion as talking back, where can freedom of speech arise breaking the barrier of caste?” questioned Perumal Murugan.