Translation
Different crossovers
JANHAVI ACHAREKAR
|
A compelling novel about gender and rural politics, the work holds a mirror to a society and a terrain that the author knows only too well.
|
Just as the festering wound of the inflicted tattoo announces “Alma Kabutari” on the arm of the protagonist, so also does the novel by the same title expose the canker of caste conflict that continues to riddle post-modern India. At a tim
e when the term “crossover” has come to symbolise the writing of the diaspora and of cross-cultural exchanges in a globalised world, Maitreyi Pushpa’s Alma Kabutari brings us down to ground reality with crossovers of
a different sort. A compelling novel about rural politics, the work holds a mirror to a society and a terrain that the author knows only too well.
A few niggles
Translated by Raji Narasimhan, this is yet another brilliant work to be made accessible to the country’s English readership by Katha. However, the presentation is disappointing with crucial pages missing and typographical errors galore. And while the translation retains most of the original Hindi flavour, attempts to anglicise colloquialisms with phrases such as “m’lad” often jar and distract from the narrative.
The winner of the SAARC Literary Award 2006, Alma Kabutari is in the style of the author’s previous works. A strong female protagonist in the backdrop of rural and gender politics as well as the exploitation of the so-called c
riminal tribes is a theme that finds resonance in most of Maitreyi Pushpa’s writing. Her previous novels, Edennmam and Chaak too portrayed women on the fringes, emboldened by a strong sense of identity and a pr
oud awareness of sexuality. Although victims by circumstance, Pushpa’s women rise above their horrific experiences and turn tragedy to their advantage. In Alma Kabutari, she introduces the reader to the kabutara community, a trib
e labelled criminal and whose origins are the stuff of folklore. Kabutara legend has it that Rani Padmini did not commit sati. She escaped along with a band of guerilla forces and entered enemy territory, eventually co-habiting and producing children whose descendants are the kabutaras.
A different “now”
In the novel, Alma is the modern-day Padmini, albeit without her troops. However, the author chooses to revise history. Unlike the heroic versions of male historians, she berates the romanticism of legend, of the actions of historical figures such as Jhalkari Bai and Panna Dai, and brings up the issue of helplessness versus martyrdom as glorified by historians. However, in her story, Alma is neither helpless, nor a martyr. An educated kabutara woman, an oddity in the community, Alma shares the fate of her illiterate mother-in-law-to-be Kadambai and that of her grandmother Bhoorie before her — a fate of repeated sexual exploitation. Deserted by her kabutara lover and fiancé, Rana, and orphaned upon the death of her father, she finds herself in the throes of the political machinations of the region. However, unlike her predecessors, Alma is empowered by education and by an innate sense of individuality. Intended as an instrument of pleasure for higher powers, she ultimately finds herself as the widow of a dacoit-turned-politician, and uses her status to create a power base for herself.
Revising history
The novel begins with an introduction to the kabutaras. Indeed, the author begins with an extract from Nehru’s criticism and negation of the Criminal Tribes Act. Having established that the tribe is compelled into thievery and is not born criminal (by introducing the sensitive character of Rana, a boy who nurses ambitions of becoming a policeman), the author illustrates the dynamics of the relationship of the kabutara with the upper caste kajjas. Finally, the protagonist Alma is introduced and the rest of the novel is her trajectory from a self-willed and sexually aware young girl to a woman sexually abused and beaten but not broken by life.
Strong women characters
It is significant that Maitreyi Pushpa’s female characters overshadow their male counterparts. Kadambai’s rapist-paramour, Mansaram, falls to kabutara status himself, Alma’s father Ram Singh is killed by the powerful forces he plays informer to, Rana is turned insane and Dheeraj — Mansaram’s besotted nephew who helps Alma escape — is made impotent. What begins as the passionate love story of Rana and Alma is transformed with dexterity into Alma’s story and her personal triumph. When she scales the wall of her captor’s home with help from a kajja, she is a “she-pigeon who takes wings” but she is ensnared yet again as the mistress-turned-wife of Shriram Shastri. However, to the new-age Padmini, suicide is not an option and indeed, jauhar is nothing but cowardice (“Alma is not afraid. If she is alone, so is Shriram Shastri.”). Finally, when she lights the pyre of her dead husband before a shocked audience, it is
she who has destroyed the forces of power. Her fire rages on and she rises like a phoenix from the ashes to take on the world as a leader.
In the end, as Alma asserts in the blackest moments of her life — “Alma means Atma”. And the atma or spirit is never broken.
Printer friendly
page
Send this article to Friends by
E-Mail
Literary Review
