NELit review

POST script 3
JUNE 17, 2012

SEVEN SISTERS

ipen
SUBHAKAR DAS

Goddess in every woman

Ruplekha Devi speaks to Siba K Gogoi about her novel based on the world of Kamakhya shrine

Panacea
My mother makes pickles in her times of torment: olives tucked away with mint and spices secret, all ground to a thick slurry in her stone mortar, then mixed in a porcelain vat with freshly pressed mustard oil passed through a sieve. She loves olives, but her pickle cupboard has everything - mangoes, lemon, garlic, ginger even the rotund potato unspared; fat glass jars, all bearing a pain of some sort. On sunny winter days, she put the jars out for the sun to bare her soul; wrinkled, pickled, salted pieces of pain float in the oil. She takes a ladle and stirs the oil gently, fondly, lost in thought remembering, her pain pickled.

POINT BLANK
are mistress and maidservant, but inside Shibanis house they are daughter and mother. Thus, Shibani and Lethow discover their lost mother and daughter respectively. Similarly, in the society of the time, it was unthinkable for a member of a Brahmin family to even touch a baby belonging to another caste. Unable to bear Malinis cries of pain inside a cave, Bidyadhar helps her give birth to a baby whose father is none other than his brother Umakanta. Malini dies in childbirth. Umakanta commits suicide by hanging himself in his house before Malini is delivered of the baby. Bidyadhar brings the newborn home as he believes that human life is greater than caste or anything else.

Void
One day this world will be gone. A deserted space clouds of dust and rivers of flood under a vast sky there will be no more people and no birds will fly. What if a few survive lost in kind, broken buildings and corpses in their thousands and no one to cry. In place of teeming jungles vast arid spaces and those that live lap up the water full of poison. In the towns and cities a brazen emptiness full of brevity. Broken bodies emerge like ghosts and peer from door to door only to meet past mistakes when the sickness in the air kiss their open mouths. In the silence a million voices scream the past is a mirage and time pauses. Faraway, a baby is born its cry uncertain the mother dead.

UPLEKHA Devis Anyatra Birala Devi is a remarkable creative work, not simply because it profiles society and culture in the abode of Goddess Kamakhaya, but also because it is crafted by a young writer with the heart and mind of a worldly woman. What is more it is arguably a reformist novel, set on the vast canvas of humanity, or a document of protest written in a language unique to the shrine against the shackles imposed on women by patriarchy. Anyatra Birala Devi, Ms Devis debut novel, won the Munin Barkotoki Award 2010 by virtue of being what the Munin Barkotoki Memorial Trust described as a unique contribution to Assamese literature. A Brahmin (Borpujari) family in Kamakhya, headed by Ambika Burhi, takes the centre stage in the story of the novel. Ambika Burhi has five sons Pramathesh, Rudrakanta, Umakanta, Bidyadhar and Pratap and daughters-in-law. Pramathesh is married to Gyanada, Rudrakanta to Paddar, Umakanta to Shashiprova, Bidyadhar to Shibani and Pratap to Abhoya. Pramathesh, the eldest son in the family, is the doloi (head priest) of Devidham; he is a god-fearing person and so is his wife Gyanada. Ambika Burhis family is in conflict with Rajanikantas over property and the position of doloi. The family of Rajanikanta Borpujari, comprising his only son and daughter-in-law, Surabala, sister of Gyanada, lives cheek by jowl with the Ambika Burhi household, separated by only a wall. Rajanikanta, who happens to be the son of Pramatheshs uncle, follows the tantric system of goddess worship, an anathema to the Ambika Burhi family which swears by Vedic rituals. The novel, portraying life in Kamakhya between the pre- and postindependence periods, covers a broad spectrum of issues womens place in society, woman as a symbol of love and sacrifice, child marriage, womens education, womens awareness of their rights, animal sacrifice and the wind of change blowing across Nilachal Hill. Born in Kamakhya on 23 August 1975, Ruplekha Devi is a novelist, essayist, teacher, actor and fashion model all rolled into one. In this piece Ms Devi takes the reader around the world she has depicted in Anyatra Birala Devi and speaks her mind on various issues in the context of the novel.

ANYATRA BIRALA DEVI

Ruplekha Devi Chandra Prakash, 2010 `85, 152 pages Hardcover/ Fiction
riage was a factor why women didnt get education as well as their rights in Kamarupa. Abhoya, who studied up to Class III, is the only educated daughter-in-law in the Ambika Burhi family. A change, however, comes to Devidham through Bidyadhar, the first person from Kamakhya to pass an entrance examination. When Ambika Burhi talks about Durgas marriage, Bidyadhar says, Let her study. Why destroy her bright future by marrying her off?... Girls at such tender age cant take the burden of motherhood Gyanada, mother of Durga, also says she will not marry her daughter off at any cost. Finally Durga becomes the first girl from Devidham to study in a Guwahati school. Parents in Assamese society still consider finding husbands for their daughters their prime duty. The status of women in todays Assam is, however, better than that of their counterparts in other parts of India. Crime against women and dowry system in Assam are not as serious as elsewhere in the country. Many women from Kamakhya are going places. Assamese women enjoy enough freedom. Girls from villages are even doing well in their school and college examinations.

Kamakhyan language
The Assamese language in which Anyatra Birala Devi has been written is sprinkled with words from various other languages Sanskrit, Maithili, Bengali, Nepali and Hindi. It is spoken only in Kamakhya. So you can call it Kamakhyan language, an offshoot of the mother tongues of the women who have come to Kamakhya as daughtersin-law. Many people from countries like Nepal, Bangladesh and Bhutan have also been visiting the shrine to Kamakhya Devi from time immemorial. I have tried to simplify Kamakhyan to some extent while seeking to establish it as a language.

Stephen Styris

RRRRRRT G

LEGEND has it that every woman lived in the form of Devi or Goddess Kamakhya in ancient Kamarupa. In other words, women enjoyed the status of goddesses
clined; they were shunted from their place of dignity. Their rights were stifled. Girls were married off before they reached puberty. After marriage, their main duty was to attend to the needs of their husbands. And they were just childproducing machines.

his life. He meets Malini in the natural environment and his sympathy for her blossoms into love. Shashiprova, wife of Umakanta, sacrifices her all on the altar of love, and yet she never gets to experience the beautiful feeling called love.

Sacrifices in Kamakhya
Sacrificing an animal in the name of religion is always painful. The shashtras say giving up desire, lust, anger and attachment is the best sacrifice. Man finds it difficult to renounce these evil passions. So he offers sacrifices of animals such as goats and buffaloes to gods or goddesses symbolising his renunciation of lust, anger, greed, and so on. The sight of an animal being sacrificed in public is really unbearable. A buffalo even sheds tears when it is taken to the place of sacrifice. I myself saw a Nepali woman, as I have described in my novel, lie prostrate near the gate to the NatMandir in Kamakhya, blood streaming down from her body. She performed swagatrarudhir the ritual of slashing parts of ones body offering her blood to the goddess. The woman slit the upper portion of her throat with a dagger which was lying, covered with blood, beside her. Goddess Kamakhya is the mother of us all. Will she satisfy her hunger by drinking the blood of her children? Isnt our life itself is a gift from her? I cant say if human sacrifice ever took place in Kamakhya. As regards Rajanikanta and Nidhiram worshiping the goddess with five human skulls in my novel, skulls of dead people might have been used by those following tantric rituals.

Why Anyatra Birala Devi

My father wished to write such a book but that didnt happen. Many people know Kamakhya only as a destination of pilgrimage. As I was born and brought up in Kamakhya, I wanted to present the inner world of this culturally vibrant place. I studied the heritage of Kamakhya for two years and also met elders seeking material for my work. The title of the novel, Anyatra Birala Devi, is derived from a sloka from Kalika Purana Anyatra birala devi Kamarupe grihe grihe which means Rare elsewhere, she dwells in every woman in Kamarupa. Im not fully satisfied with Anyatra Birala Devi; I feel I could have written it better. However, if it was not for the most painful phase in my life, during 2003-2007 when I was operated upon seven times for brain tumour, I probably wouldnt have written this novel.

Love and sacrifice

Love is divine. It is a spontaneous feeling; love knows no boundaries. It helps one grow into a responsible person. Bidyadhar and Shibani fall in love with each other after their marriage. Shibanis belief in love inspires her to face life confidently, forgetting the pangs of pregnancy, a matter of life and death for her. She knows that women die during pregnancy or when they give birth to babies. Though an expectant mother, she lets her husband go to study medicine in Kolkata and London. This sense of social responsibility lends majesty to the bond of love between Shibani and Bidyadhar. On the other hand, Umakanta becomes enamoured of Malini, a woman who roams the jungles in Kamakhya, sometimes picking flowers. People simply dismiss her as an insane, stray woman, but Umakanta finds in her the love of

Triumph of humanity
Caste is still prevalent in our society. Humanity is vast and it cant be restricted by dividing people on the lines of family origin and rank. Society doesnt allow any relationship between Shibani, a high-caste woman, and Lethow, a destitute midwife. Shibani, who was orphaned at a tender age, is deeply touched by Lethows love and compassion for her. She discards all social barriers and sleeps with Lethow on the same bed. For others, they

Whats next?
I have finished writing my second novel, Mrityurmahamritanga Gamayah, based on the diaries I had kept while undergoing treatment outside Assam. The title has been taken from a sloka from the Upanishads. The novel is about the traumas of an ailing person and I hope to publish it soon. T

Whispers
Therere whispers in the woods about a girl in bridal wear raped and left for dead by the prickly foliage of the bamboo forest. A faint breeze was witness to the crime, saw the groom stab himself in sorrow a mother die from shock; villagers beaten by angry soldiers for raising their voice. If you walk the narrow path by the river the wind will keep you company, whisper the soldiers were never punished because they said they werent there. So no girl was raped, the groom stabbed in a fight the mother long dead. They called everyone liars the girl raped the two dead the entire village.

Goddess and woman

Legend has it that every woman lived in the form of Devi or Goddess Kamakhya in ancient Kamarupa. In other words, women enjoyed the status of goddesses. With the passage of time, the position of women in society de-

Womens status
As I have already said child mar-

When gods mingle with men

ARUNI KASHYAP

Waste
What hurt most is not how death found him in languid repose, a gun slung across the shoulders rigored fingers holding a grenade, like an orange ripened by blood, eyes squinting at the sunlight waiting for an angel. A body fallen in surprise to the delight of a million flies, their buzz like the cheers of spectators in a gladiatorial contest. A death that came much too quickly, a farmer boy, not man enough to lift a spade, made to fight the strength of an army, a million strong.

N the version of the NalaDamayanti love story I read when I was young, the reason why Nala loses his rational faculties wrecking their relationship is Shanis influence. Once, after peeing, Nala forgets to wash his feet, a cleanliness ritual most families in Assam religiously follow before leaving a restroom. Taking advantage of his impious state, Shani enters the kings body and gradually drives him towards a path of self-destruction that brings him on to the streets, separates him from his wife. It was a cheap, slim paperback I had read. Paperbacks are sold everywhere in Assam, at the State Transport Corporation bus stations and on footpaths, and they comfortably cohabit with books such as Xasitra Jouna Xikkha, Adhalekha Dostabej, The Monk Who Sold His Ferarri and Nirbachita Kolom. But Nalas story created a fear in my mind. For a long time, I would make sure I washed my legs again and again before leaving restrooms, so that Shani wouldnt influence me, until my mother told me one day that since I was born on a Saturday, Shani wouldnt harm me. Rather, he is my Father Planet. Stories from Indian mythology are part of our daily conversations. We speak about Sita, Draupadi, Bhim and Ghototkach as if they were real people. My best friends pet name is Bishnu, and whenever visiting guests hear that, they recall Ajamils Upakhyan from Srimanta Sankardebs Kritan Ghoxa written in the 15th century. Ajamil, a Brahmin, kills so many cows and women and steals so much that long before he completes his allotted years

OTHER WORDS
name on his deathbed had washed away all his sins! Namita Gokhales collection of short stories, The Habit of Love, underlines this habitual coexistence of mythology in our daily lives, sometimes, even governing our consciousness. In this country, we speak about Arjun, Babrubahan, Bhim and Ghototkach as if they were real people. We point to a stone and say, thats where Lord Krishna rested while eloping with Rukmini. We point towards a stream and say, thats where Sita conditioned her hair with the juice of the elephant apple. As Raja Rao writes in the introduction to his novel Kanthapura about our coexistence with myths and legends, the past mingles with the present, the gods mingle with the men, to make the repertory of your grandmother always bright. The first feature that attests to this is the curious arrangement of the books stories stories of contemporary, urban India sprinkled with retellings of interesting tales from the Mahabharata. Gokhale, the teller of the long poem for children The Puffin Mahabharata now retells captivating episodes from the same long poem for adults. In the entire collection, it is these stories (on Quandhari, Nala-Damayanti and Kunti) which glitter like a constellation in the universe of stories about mundane, day-to-day lives of people living in urban India. Stories set in Delhi jostle for space with stories from the Ashramvasika Parva or Vana Parva of the Mahabharata. However, the stories set in contemporary India where events such as the death of Princess Diana (The Day Princess Diana Died) and Jawaharlal Nehru (Grand Hotel I) determine the mood of the characters, look as if they have a mythological order of their own. They follow certain recurring features that give the book coherence. According to the Authors Note at the end, these stories were written, on and off, over several years. They have been imagined in airports, scribbled during flights, corrected in traffic jams, deciphered from the backs of envelopes. All the stories, including the mythological ones, are narrated by women, or centre around women. Most of the stories are first person narratives of women who are strong-willed, independent, who have lived the prime of their lives and reflect on the events that shape their present. Life on Mars follows Delhi-based journalist Madhu Sinhas unlikely friendship with Udit Narain who is obsessed with life on Mars-meteorites-comets. The Habit of Love is about a single mother and the time she spends with her two daughters during a trip. In Chronicles of Exile, Quandharis personal servant recalls the life of the Queen after she dies in a forest fire and wonders if Quandhari walked into the fire of her own accord, just the way she had blindfolded herself adamantly after hearing that Dhritarashtra was blind. All the stories speak of loneliness in different ways, and in fact, un-

THE HABIT OF LOVE

Namita Gokhale Penguin Books, 2012 `250, 184 pages Paperback/ Fiction
he courts life imprisonment in hell according to the lengthy list of his evil deeds on Chitraguptas register. But the day the ferocious jamdoots (messengers of death) come to take his soul, he calls out from his deathbed to his youngest son, Narayan, for water. The powerful messengers of death flee in fear thinking Ajamil has taken Lord Narayans name at last before dying. After death, Ajamil finds himself in the much-coveted Baikuntha better than heaven and Kailash, Lord Narayans heavenly abode for his mention of Gods

able to deal with this loneliness, the characters look out for peculiar alternatives. In Omen I, Vatsala Vidyarthi, an Indian lady, a literal lady, a literary lady, composes not very original haiku and has a one-night stand with a stranger in a hotel who, she suspects, stole her belongings before leaving her room. Vatsala refuses to accept that she is lonely and believes she is only searching for something. On her hospital bed, Madhu Sinha realises as a result of her friendship with Udit Narain that life on Mars must be very similar to life in Delhi, difficult, tedious and painful. Ms Sinha, whose children live abroad, whose son gives her a perfunctory hug on arrival at her hospital bed, makes friends with Narain to avoid loneliness. In Kunti, the mother of the Pandavas, doesnt have the companionship of her five powerful sons in the forests and so she reminisces about how dedicated they were to her. If life on Mars is like life in Delhi tedious, painful, and difficult life during the times of the Mahabharata wasnt any different. Though the stories in The Habit of Love are set in different times and worlds, it is the thread of loneliness its female characters try to negotiate that holds the collection together, creating some meaning of a chaotic world. It doesnt matter whose story it is: Kunti or Vatsala Vidyarthi, Nala or Dhritarashtra. What matters is how the past mingles with the present in the stories and the way the stories are placed in the book to suggest how myths live with us like family members, like the village outcast or the headman, like a long-forgotten rickety chair in a corner of a storeroom. T