Tagged! Indian Authors: Of Experiences & In Anticipation

When Amrita Rajan, a fellow author at Desicritics informed me that I had been tagged, I was overjoyed to see the topic of choice: "Indian Authors That I Had Read Or Wanted To Read". Finally! Would this include Indian Poets too, I wondered, as I sat down pulling out of memory every delightful book I had ever read. I decided I would make this slight variation myself and add a few poets to the mix; I am sure Amrita won't mind. For after all, every beautiful string of words is worth a thought and every creative exploit deserves analysis. Moreover, I personally believe that the more successful of authors have the ability to inculcate poetry into their prose.

In addition to the legendary greats, this list will also include a few poets and authors whose work, may not commercially popular but very different and enlightening on several literary levels. Some of them don't have portfolio of works but a single piece managed to make an impression on me. Each author or poet that I list has a story that somewhere along the line merged with my own:

NISSIM EZEKIEL:

My mother finished her English literature thesis at University of Mumbai (then Bombay University). One of her favorite professors was Nissim Ezekiel and she had a book of his poems tucked away near her nightstand. I remember giggling away as she read "Goodbye Party For Miss Pushpa T". These poems light-heartedly mocked Indian-English. Not the accent but the direct translation of Indian phrases. I have never seen such a direct and simple source of humor as the Ezekiel poems. Years later I read V.S.Naipaul's "The Mystic Masseur" and the rib-tickling phrases had me reminiscing of Nissim Ezenkiel's style. As is known, Indians translate Hindi or other Indian languages into English with amusing results. A question as simple as "What are you doing?" gets flipped around into "What you are doing?", "How you are doing, what you are doing?".

Mr.Ezekiel's poetry was the first to show me how cultural faux-pas could contribute to literature without being grammatically accurate. What a unqiue and informal way of inculcating culture into poetry! My mother had promised me that she would take me to meet Mr.Ezekiel but sadly he passed away in 2004 after a long drawn battle with Alzhiemer's. Even as I shed the rhymes of verbose and romantic English poets, Nissim Ezekiel's simple, lucid and rich language settled over my first attempts at free verse.

Recently, my mother and I shared a laugh trying to imagine what Mr.Ezekiel would've thought of the catchy "Beedi Jalay Le" number from "Omkara".

"It is so cold, get somebody's glove. Go get fire from the neighbour's stove", he would've said and guffawed.

DILIP CHITRE:

Bilingual writers fascinate me. They get the best of both worlds and with good reasons; the puns, the verbal gymnastics (as I like to call figures of speech), the metaphors that get lost in translation, are all in the perception of these writers. Kudos to these few literary beings for translating the wisdom, the humor and the insight of one language into another. They are the ones who truly share literature while the rest of us selfishly indulge.

Do people remember Smita Patil and Om Puri's riveting drama, Ardha Satya? The verse that summarized the film was Mr.Chitre's poem by the same name.

"Ek palde mein napunsakta, doosre palde mein paurush, aur theek tarazu ke kaante par, ardh satya"

There have been people who have translated this poem based on their own interpretations or sometimes very literally. But to me, these lines have a universal meaning. Literally translated these lines mean the following:

"On one side of the scale is the weakness of neutrality, on the other side, the strength of man, And on the needle of this fine balance, the Half Truth"

"The Half Truth" to me is an interesting concept because it leaves room for interpretation. It means that it is not just our angle, our perspective but our positions in this cosmos that determine our vision of the truth. Mr.Chitre might just shake his head and dismiss my far fetched interpretation but since this is the meaning that makes the poem sublime for me, I will stick to it. This is one of the reasons I would like to read more of Mr.Chitre's books. Reading more than one book by an author provides greater insight into the author's thinking and outlook. He has translated works by some of the exalted Marathi saints, Sanata Tukaram, Santa Dnyaneshwar and my literary psyche tingles in anticipation of a poet's view on religious verses.

MIRA BAI:

Ok, before people roll their eyes and wonder why a religious bhajan writer of the 16th century is listed among Indian authors, let me clarify. I have forever been in awe of Mira Bai's poems and have wanted to translate them from the perspective of an Indian woman of my generation. Most of the raw sensuality in these poems has been doused by the religious connotations, which is a good and a bad thing. Good, because it allowed the poetry to be preserved in spite of the stringency and taboos associated with sensuality and especially female sexuality. Bad, because what literature wants to explore with passion, is now married to religion. Any translator venturing into the sensuality aspect will probably face the irrational wrath of political parties. I can almost picture my effigy being burnt.

An example of the beautiful, romanticized and sensual poetry is as follows:

"Chhandon langar mori bahiyan gahaun na
main to naar paraye ghar ki, mere bharose gupal rahau na,
Jo tum meri bahiyan dharat ho, nayan jor mere praan harau na,
Vrindavan ki kunjgali mein rit chhod, anriti karau na,
Mira ke prabhu Giridhar naagar charan kamal chitth tare tarau na"

Literal translation-by Aditi Nadkarni (Do Not Duplicate)

"Leave, naughty one, don't hold my hand,
I belong to someone else, do not trust me at all,
Even if you do hold my hand,
don't conquer my soul through my eyes,
In the forests of Vrindavan, do not abandon convention,
Do not accept wantonness,
Mira's Lord Giridhar, do not take away the lotus of your feet,
That resides in the depths of my heart"

The above literal translation hints towards the naughty banter between lovers and although the mention of Lord Giridhar (Krishna) brings in religious connotation, this verse has a lot of lovelorn references that use wanton lust as a metaphor for devotion.

Mira Bai's verses are on my list of poetry readings for this year!

KIRAN NAGARKAR:

Speaking of Mira Bai reminds me of Kiran Nagarkar's 'Cuckold', the story of the prince of Chittor, Maharaj Kumar who was married to the saint Mira Bai. This reference shifts the focus a bit from ancient to contemporary and from poetry to fiction.

Mr.Nagarkar's much talked about work, for me, more than anything else is an exploration of the male psyche; something women have always scrutinized with great interest. He too is a bilingual writer who has published works in both English and Marathi. Sadly, believe it or not, I have read only book reviews of 'Cuckold' and plan to read it this year.

I like to be in the story, if you know what I mean. If the story is about someone, I immediately find a character who I could be and then take great delight as that persona is explored and mourn when they are killed or eliminated. With 'Cuckold' I want to find myself in the 16th century and be there to witness what the Maharaj Kumar thought. For after all, fiction allows us the liberty of escape.

R.K.NARAYAN:

This man wove the touching tales around which my childhood revolved. Practically every Indian belonging to my generation, remembers 'Malgudi Days'. Deftly exploiting my eagerness to watch the 'Malgudi Days' television series, my mother has had me wolf down many a leafy, green vegetable, that I would've otherwise promptly turned up my nose at.

In Malgudi Days, the 'coming-of-age' plot was dealt with such sensitivity that I now feel I knew Swami and his friends and have actually been to Malgudi. The informal style and the lack of rich vocabulary that is characteristic of R.K.Narayan's classics has been widely criticized. However, I feel, that is precisely what makes each of his characters so endearing. The protagonist is always someone who Indian readers can identify with. Not many people know this but the Dev Ananad starrer, 'Guide' was based on R.K.Narayan's book by the same name. Every story has a moral, a social message and at the center of it all, a character who we can empathize with. R.K.Narayan is undoubtedly, one of my favorite Indian authors.

RUSKIN BOND:

An Indian author from the days of the British Raj, Bond's writing describes in great detail the picturesque northern India. I have to admit, I liked his short stories more than the novels. His style is what I adapted when I first started writing short stories. Set the scene, identify the characters, set a routine for each of the characters and then one day have something happen that changes everything. Rsukin Bond I think is best at imagery. Once I began reading his book I could never quite step outside the scenes he created with his words. The plots were simple but the characters were so well-developed that the intensity of events left you riveted. His description of the natural beauty of India's foothills makes me want to visit and find those places. As the story starts, one can imagine an old caretaker, the small bungalow in Kasauli, the darkness of an evening as shadows swallow treees and hills in their wake, the rustling of a thick forest, the quiet railway stations where a traveller has just arrived and our journey will now begin with his.

Ruskin Bond's 'The Blue Umbrella' was recently adapted to a film by Vishal Bharadwaj ('Chhatri Chor'). Below is a scene from the film.


VIJAY TENDULKAR:

I credit one of my earliest feminist influences to Mr.Tendulkar's story, 'Umbartha' starring Smita Patil. There wasn't a single point during that story where I didn't have goosebumps. His contributions towards non-mainstream cinema that brought attention towards social issues are particularly noteworthy. Screenplays of poignant Hindi films such as 'Ardha Satya', 'Manthan', 'Nishant', 'Akreit' and 'Kamla' were written by Vijay Tendulkar.

When I was younger, my parents warned me against being selective towards English authors. I read Marathi books but by the time I reached an age when I could read Vijay Tendulkar's books, my reading, quite regretfully, had skewed much towards English authors. When I was fifteen or so, my father bought us tickets to the Marathi musical 'Ghashiram Kotwal' and that is when I truly was able to appreciate a Vijay Tendulkar play. I hope someday to rejuvenate my Marathi reading and treat myself to some more of Mr.Tendulkar's stories.

RANI DHARKER:

I read one book by Rani Dharker and was bowled over. Her 'Virgin Syndrome' left me laughing, raising my eye-brows, turning pages eagerly and then wanting more. I am not sure if Ms.Dharker wrote any more such noteworthy books but her one literary exploit delved into the female sexuality of an Indian middle-class woman with subtle shades of autobiography that I so love.

SHOBHA DE:

Yes, I know, she has had plenty commercial (some times undeserving you say?) success thanks to generous inclusions of sensationalism and sexuality. I also realize that she isn't the kind of author you would expect to find in the list such as this one. I can almost feel Vijay Tendulkar glaring at me for including his work with Shobha De's racy novels. But let me explain.

I have read two types of De Novels: Ones that were heavily tinged with the Jackie Collins style and then ones that weren't. Her 'Speedpost' surprised me quite pleasantly. I must say that Ms.De's 'Speedpost' is something I would recommend as a Mothers' Day gift for, ahem...daughters. Yes, you heard me right.

Unbeknownst to many, Ms.De was Ms.Rajadhyaksha before marriage and that makes her a Saraswat Brahmin like myself, before she married into a Bengali family. So some of the references she makes in 'Speedpost' were identifiable for me. Description of her mother's coconut aamti, the environment in her home when she was growing up in Bombay and the little, stray things that are so characteristic of the Bombay middle-class, made me nostalgic. This book of hers, confirmed my hypothesis that the success of a book depends largely on how much of themselves, authors reveal within the story. So if there's a De non-fiction in sight, I'd say try it out.

ANURAG MATHUR:

I would love to have feedback (and free copies!) of Anurag Mathur's 'The Inscrutable Americans'. I have heard so much about this book from fellow-desis in the U.S that I HAVE to read this one before 2008. Yes, I am starting to give myself deadlines; unfortunately between writing and research, reading does take a backseat.

SUKETU MEHTA:

On my last visit to India, I started reading 'Maximum City' and left it behind. Exploring Bombay's under-belly without evoking grimaces is a truly diffcult task. The packed railway stations, the harassed middle-class, the crumbling chawls, the happy brown faces of street children, the traffic jams and the quiet ocean that fringes this sublime craziness are all part and parcel of the city's unique spirit. I wouldn't trade it for anything. This side of Bombay is as endearing or possibly more than the glitzy face and it always leaves me a little disappointed when people treat it with excessive criticism. What city doesn't have issues that need attention? Bombay, has more than just those. It has a soul. If as critics say, Suketu Mehta has managed to capture this soul, then he definitely has my respect.

An autobiographical account as a first book, however, I find a bit worrisome because it makes me doubt whether the author will be able to follow it up with a second one that can match expectations. Nonetheless, 'Maximum City' has been touted as one of the best travelogues and I plan to get back to reading it on my upcoming India trip.

I can hardly wait to visit my beloved book stores near the Fort area, where out of sheer habit, I will happily haggle with book vendors even in the rain, something I miss doing at Barnes & Nobles here. Ha! The things we miss!

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I could go on and on and write about a few more authors that I haven't mentioned in this post but as Tagore would say "Love does not claim possession but gives freedom". So I will now scour blogs looking for an appropriate person to pass on this very fortunate tag. Thank you for the opportunity Amrita. I had a blast writing this one!


UPDATE: For those of who read this post, the follow-up of the tag is available on Vivek Sharma's Blog:

http://viveksharmaiitd.blogspot.com/2007/05/indian-authors-ive-read-and-plan-to.html

It is a very comprehensive list. Hope you guys have fun reading it!

My Dad, The Feminist

It is my father's birthday today (May 17th) and my first, very pungent post about feminism went up on Desicritics.

Last night after I sang a lengthy "Happy Birthday" rendition for him over the phone he very sweetly asked me why my mum received so many honorable mentions in my articles while he didn't. I told him it was because I wrote about feminism. "I'm a feminist too" he answered in all sincerity and I chuckled but it did make me reminisce about how and why my own early opinions of feminism, man-woman relationships and marriage in general, blossomed.

My dad, I suddenly realized, had a lot to do with my own expectations from men. When I tell people that I expect a man to respect my intellect, my social status and not be threatened by it, they shake their heads incredulously. The only reason, I still continue to believe that men like that exist is simply because of my father.

On a rainy afternoon, when I was in kindergarten, my father told me that every person should be able to describe themselves in one word.

"Just one?" I asked, immediately starting to think of all the wonderful things that defined me.

"What word describes you?" I suddenly asked my dad.

"Self-made" he said without missing a beat.

"You made yourself?" I asked in amazement and he smiled nodding.

As I grew older I found out what "self-made" truly meant. At my sixteenth birthday, I told him that I remembered the incident.

"You do, huh?" he asked with a frown, "Then we are going to have to find me a new word to describe me."

"Why?" I asked slightly taken aback.

"Because I might've been self-made before I met your mother, but after that she's had a lot to do with my achievements and success" he said with a smile as we sat back, watching my mother put icing on my birthday cake.

My mother completed her thesis after marriage, while my sister and I were still toddlers. My father would babysit us on days that my mother took her exams. By the time we were in school, my mother was a full professor. I remember the quiet nights in Bombay, when I would get up in the middle of the night, thirsty and walk towards the dim light in the kitchen. From behind a curtain, I could see my mother calling out numbers from marksheets as my dad deftly entered each digit onto the calculator and tallied the totals. I could see how sleepy they both were and yet how much fun they seemed to be having over this little midnight project they had teamed up on. My father could've easily left my mom to tally up her report cards and gone back to sleep so he could be rested before the morning's early shift. But he sat there making jokes to keep her awake and wiping her glasses for her as she yawned widely. For some reason, that scene has stayed with me and sums up the kind of support that a wife expects from her husband.

There were times when my father's effusive pride over my mother's achievements caused my sister and me a great deal of amusement. My mother once directed a play in the college she taught. At the end of the play, when she was called on stage and the audience applauded, my father stood up and clapped, as my sister and I ducked our heads in embarrassment. He was oblivious to our discomfort as he gave her his own singular standing ovation.

The very first time he read my poetry he told me he liked my confessional style.

"You get it from your mom, you know," he told me, "I could never write like her. Her English is amazing..." My sister and I rolled our eyes and giggled while he continued raving about my mother's literary skills heedless to our mirth.

When my mother tried a new recipe, he would have us mete out compliments so she would feel rewarded. He himself never cared much about television but if one of her favorite films was coming on, he would fight us girls relentlessly for the remote control. If she'd had a late night, he would make us breakfast and ask us to be quiet around the house. During our rebellious teen years, my sister and I would get periodic long lectures from him about how we should be appreciative towards her since she does so much for us. On numerous occasions my parents would engage in fiesty debates about political or social issues and we would watch with interest as they exchanged ideas, logic and even some occasional humor. Never did he express offense at my mother having contradicted him in front of friends or relatives. Financial decisions and queries, my dad had made very clear, were to be handled by his beloved "home minister". He raised us two girls with the very ideals and philosophies that he would've imparted, had we been boys. He taught us to have the same strength of character, ambition and determination that he himself had applied to life. All this while, he had a successful career, a business and never seemed threatened by my mother's very distinct individuality.

When friends asked me why I even expected to ever find a man who could be secure, confident, supportive and yet ambitious, I always said that it was because I grew up watching such a man.

I called him up this morning to ask him how he celebrated his birthday and before I hung up, I made my admission.

"Dad, I thought about it", I said, "You really are a feminist".

"Maybe that is the one word that describes me" he answered laughing.

Casino Royale: Has James Bond Finally Met His Match?

Bond girls have forever been the hapless victims, the quintessential 'damsels in distress' who just happen to be stunningly beautiful. Feminists and film critics have vehemently criticized Bond-makers for their shallow portrayals of these women.

Researchers have insinuated that the author, Ian Fleming modeled the character of James Bond after his own personality of a womanizing jet setter, which may explain the nature of Bond's love interests. What was he thinking, one wonders, when naming one of his Bond girls, 'Pussy Galore'! Ironically, however, the fiesty Vesper Lynd of Casino Royale was his first Bond girl creation, leading me to believe that it may have been the filmmakers who slowly catered the portrayal of Bond girls, for the masses. In short, these sirens became the eye-candy assisting a film spiked with testosterone.

Quite refreshingly, the female lead of Casino Royale (2006) went above and beyond just being a Bond-girl. The beautiful Ava Green as Vesper Lynd in Casino Royale, brought intelligence, sensitivity, strength and yet shades of vulnerability to the usually uninteresting and one-dimensional persona of a Bond woman. Her spunky and quick-witted character added to the pulsating drama of the latest Bond release, a touch of intellectual feminism by impressing the suave James Bond with her wit as much as with her breathtaking beauty.

Now, let me confess, there was a time during my teen years when I used to consider myself a die-hard feminist. I was under the impression then, that feminism was a man-hating, sexist scheme and only until much later did I realize how extremist, immature and illogical my beliefs were. I have now come to the conclusion that differences between sexes are irrefutable. In fact, I would go so far as to say, that they are even essential for a smooth running social machinery. These gender based individualities are not something we could bridge by rallying and debating endlessly. Modern feminism has been largely tainted with the denial of the differences between the two sexes.

Women are intelligent, beautiful, intuitive, nurturing and sensitive beings and feminism should probably accentuate these unique feminine characteristics. 'Equality of sexes' was not a concept that urged rejection of the inherent character differences between the two genders but instead advocated equal treatment of the two in society. Somewhere along the line, extremism crept in and ill-defined feminism resulted in the rejection of feminist ideas by the majority of the male population, who have now sadly begun to associate the label 'bitchy' with feminism.

I have always felt, that the smarter and the more independent, the woman he loves, the more secure and confident, a man seems to be. As I watched Casino Royale, the new James Bond somehow elevated himself in my esteem, by the smart woman he was drawn to. When Daniel Craig became the first actor ever to receive a BAFTA nomination for a performance as James Bond, I was reminded of the saying, that 'behind every successful man is a woman' to which, over time, I have made a slightly wordy addendum: 'Behind every smart and successful woman is a man who is confident enough of his own abilities to not be threatened by her intellect.'

The persona of Vesper Lynd in this new Bond film has been very smartly designed. In addition to being gorgeous, she has the charisma to win the favor of the new generation. She is a woman one could see being as popular among the men as with women. Her intellect and wit, quite realistically tempered by her feminine gullibility, ultimately brings out the tender, unguarded side of the one man known in cinematic history for his ruthless, detached and sexually driven regard for women.

And for the first time in Bond history, like a phoenix rising out of the ashes, a new James Bond emerged from the ocean, glistening, in a pair of skimpy swimming trunks.

Hallelujah! Finally, some eye-candy for the girls!