A Bird In Search of A Nest
“This
is not a revolt against religion, or a plea for any religion. This is only a
wailing. This is only a cry.”
These
are the last few lines from one of Kamala Das’ short stories “An Incomplete
Love Story.” It is a sad love story about a love between a Muslim and Hindu,
which was first published in Malayalam and then translated into English by the
author herself.
Being
short-listed for Nobel Prize in1984, Das possessed a significant position in the
Indian literary scenario. Writing in English and Malayalam, Das authored many
autobiographical works and novels, several well-received collections of poetry
in English, numerous volumes of short stories, and essays on a broad spectrum
of subjects. Since the publication of her first collection of poetry, Summer in Calcutta in 1965, Das has been
considered an important voice of her generation who exemplified a break from
the past by writing in a distinctly Indian persona rather than adopting the
techniques of the English modernists.
In
her life, Kamala Das was also put into controversy for her inclination for
Islam and for the man behind this inclination, Sadiq Ali, who was an Islamic
scholar and a Muslim politician who became an MP from Malabar. Needless to say,
there was a strong love relationship between them despite a significant difference
in age and a bar of religion in between them. Eventually, they decided to marry
and for that, Kamala Das changed her religion and then became known as Kamala
Suraiya. The wedding hall had been booked and plans had been made for a
ceremony but strangely enough, Ali absconded before their wedding day.
Kamala
Das had written “An Incomplete Love Story” before the failure of the scheduled
marriage but ironically, her last love actually did become an incomplete one.
Here,
we will discuss the pathos fate of female sexuality with respect to Kamala Das
alias Kamala Suraiya’s life. The poetess
herself describes the myths and facts regarding female sexuality through this
autobiographical observation in one of her poems:
“I was child,
and later they
Told me I
grew, for I became tall, my limbs
Swelled and
one or two places sprouted hair.
When I asked
for love, not knowing what else to ask
For, he drew a
youth of sixteen into the
Bedroom and
closed the door, He did not beat me
But my sad
woman-body felt so beaten.
The weight of
my breasts and womb crushed me.
I shrank
Pitifully.
Then … I wore
a shirt and my
Brother’s
trousers, cut my hair short and ignored
My
womanliness. Dress in sarees, be girl
Be wife, they
said. Be embroiderer, be cook,
Be a
quarreller with servants. Fit in. Oh,
Belong, cried
the categorizers. Don’t sit
On walls or
peep in through our lace-draped windows.
Aches which
are not yours. I too call myself I.”
[‘Composition’
by Kamala Das]
An Introduction to Kamala Das
Poet
K. Satchidanandan elaborated on Das’ views explaining that “the woman cannot
change her body; so the poet changes her dress and tries to imitate men. But
the voices of the tradition would force her back into sarees, the saree
becoming here a sign of convention. She is pushed back into her expected gender
roles: wife, cook, embroiderer, quarreler with servants: the gender role also
becomes a class role.” (Satchidanandan, K., “Transcending the Body” Only the Soul Knows How to Sing by
Kamala Das. Kottayam [DC Books, 1996])
Merrily
Weisbord, a Canadian non-fiction writer wrote a book in 2010, The Love Queen of Malabar: Memoir of a Friendship with Kamala Das (ISBN:
0773581413, 9780773581418, published by McGill-Queen's Press) based on her
decade-long friendship with Das and in a chronological narration which travels
through pain, desire, hope and despair, has documented a riveting decade in the
life of the great Indian poetess. Weisbord first met Das through her poems and
found the verses resonating with a kindred spirit. In a brave moment, she
decided to pursue a further connection and visited Das in Kochi in1995. In
return, Das visited Canada twice. Weisbord
visited Kochi six times between 1995 and 2005 with the idea of writing a book
on her friend poetess. In the process, she got closer to the writer and the
woman in Das like no one else.
Nominated
for the 2010 Writers' Trust Non-Fiction Prize, this book is not only an intimate
portrait of Kamala Das but also a truly original example of cross-cultural
adventuring, typically with an Asian focus. In these memoirs, Weisbord pries
open a hermetic Asian culture and exposes it to broad view with real understanding
and style.
Who Was Kamala Das?
Daughter
of the renowned Malaylam poet Balamani Amma, Kamala Das had writing in her
genes and was further deeply influenced by her uncle Nalapat Narayan Menon, a
prominent writer. Her formal education was limited to a short span of schooling
– a European School in Calcutta. Married to a quite matured man (more than
double her age) shortly before her 16th birthday, Das never enjoyed sex with
her husband, though became mother of three children from that marriage.
According
to Weisbord, her husband consummated the marriage with a penis longer than most
and consequently, Das bled profusely and needed surgery. What Das experienced
in her sexual life is not new for many women. At this juncture, we are reminded
of Sylvia Plath, another woman writer who also underwent the same trauma as Das
did. In
one of my stories in Odia “Doora Pahadara Chhabi” (the story is yet to
translated into English), I describe how the protagonist gets raped by her
lover husband during their first night mating, causing bleeding of her vagina.
Most
women are taught to suppress their libido and it is thought to be the
conspiracy of patriarchy in order to maintain its hierarchy. Women are valued
for their unique qualities and "rulers," either from the religious or
socio-political spheres, tell us, in essence, what a woman should think and do.
Once again, the question of women empowerment deteriorates into another form of
what it is intended to eliminate. Direct about sex and uninhibited, a woman
cannot approach a male if she so desires. She doesn't need the hierarchy to
tell her when it is right. She doesn't play games, because the games are meant
to limit her to begin with. Taboos and myths are shattered. The truths about
sexuality are not important for a woman; they are only meant for men.
Das
had a very vague idea about female sexuality in her teen days before her
marriage. In my college days, like Kamala, I was not taught what ‘sex’ actually
was. Madhav Das, the husband of Kamala, was actually a homosexual who brought boys
to his bed but would also introduce her to his bosses to help him to get job
promotions and encouraged her to share their beds with her; he would ask
detailed questions later about her activities with them. When Kamala was 37,
her ovary was removed for constant hemorrhage and she was under the treatment
of estrogen hormones, which lead her to experience a heart attack at a young
age. (Weisbord, M, The Love Queen of Malabar: Memoir of a Friendship with Kamala Das, McGill-Queen's
University Press | September 30, 2010 |)
She
was not an academic nor could she be placed with enlightened writers if we
measure her writings from a metaphysical point of view. What we can say is she
was a trendsetter in her own style and her own conviction. She was an original poet and writer known for
the intensity of her emotionally charged diction. Even Linda Hess, a ruthless
critic of Das, also concedes the poetess had “a genuine poetic talent” in her
poems. (Linda Hess’ essay "Indian Poetry in English," Quest 49 April
- June 1966, 37-38).
We
cannot catagorise Das with her contemporaries. She is not a feminist if we
apply feminist methodology to all her poetic works. Rather, we can place her along with this
articulation of feminine concerns.
Examples from Das’ Works Regarding Her
Identity as a Woman
Kamala
Das’s poems are a very strong expression of her femininity:
“I am every
woman
who seeks love
I give a
wrapping to their dreams
A woman voice
And a woman
smell”
[‘Glass’ by
Kamala Das]
Her
poems “Jaisurya” and “The White Flowers” are expressions of her maternal
instinct and celebration of filial love. The poem which best expresses her
consciousness of identity as a woman is titled “Gino.” As a patient lying in a bed, she is ‘dreaming
of home’ and imagines herself performing all traditional feminine chores and
roles:
“I shall be
the fat-kneed hag in the long bus queue
The one from
whose shopping bag the mean potatoes must roll across the road
I shall be the
grandmother-willing away her belongings, those
Scraps and
trinkets
More lasting
than her bones.”
[Gino by
Kamala Das]
The
same tone can be encountered in her prose. She writes:
“First I will
strip myself of the clothes and ornaments. Then I will peel off this light
brown skin and shatter my bones. I hope at last you will be able to see my
homeless, orphan, intensely beautiful soul, deep within the bone, deep down
under, beneath even the marrow…will you be able to love me, will you be able to
love me someday when I am stripped naked of this body…” (from “Ente Katha,” the
Malayalam version of “My Story”)
Das on Religion
Kamala
Das was seriously and creatively concerned with her own identity as woman. She
met the definition of ‘confessional poet’ who pours out her agonized heart,
tortured feelings, sufferings, and psyche in her prose and poems. When we read
her writings, we encounter a common woman’s life. Her entire life and writings were a quest for
true love which she could neither get from her husband nor from any other lover.
Her concept of love was all-inclusive where she wanted not only physical but
also emotional and spiritual fulfillment as well.
For
her, religion didn’t have any distinct meaning. To her, there were no
differences between Krishna or Mohammad. She once told an interviewer she was
going to take Krishna from the Guruvayur temple, rename him Mohammed, and make
him a prophet. She relied more on Krishna than his lovers because she never
found true love from any man. She only agreed to convert herself to the Muslim
religion because Sadiq Ali, a much younger man, came into her life and assured
her he would marry her if she joined Islam.
What attracted Das, however, was not really Islam but the love for which
she longed her whole life.
After
her conversion to Islam, Das wrote the following letter to her aforementioned friend
Weisbord:
Dearest Merrily,
Life has changed for me since
Nov. 14 when a young man named Sadiq Ali walked in to meet me. He is 38 and has
a beautiful smile. Afterwards he began to woo me on the phone from Abu Dhabi
and Dubai, reciting Urdu couplets and telling me of what he would do to me
after our marriage. I took my nurse Mini and went to his place in my car. I
stayed with him for three days. There was a sunlit river, some trees, and a lot
of laughter. He asked me to become a Muslim which I did on my return home. The
Press and other media rushed in. The Hindu fanatics, Shiv Sena, and the RSS
pasted posters all over the place, “Madhavi Kutty is insane. Put her to death.”
I refused the eight policemen sent to protect me. There are young men, all
Muslims, now occupying the guest flat and keeping vigil twenty-four hours a
day. I have received court orders restraining me from going out or addressing
more than six people at a time. Among the Muslims, I have become a cult figure
all dressed in black purdah and learning Arabic.
My Hindu relatives and friends
keep a distance from me. They wish to turn me into a social outcast. My sister
visited me twice but wept all the time. I cannot visit my old mother. Otherwise
life is exciting…
Affectionately,
Kamala Das (Suraiya)
But
alas! Das couldn’t marry Ali. Here again, patriarchy was at work. Ali could
sleep with a 67-year-old woman when he is 38 but could he marry such an old
lady? Personally I can never differentiate anything between Madhav Das and
Sadiq Ali. And I can realize the pathos of her poetess heart when she wrote:
“The only
secrets I always
Withhold
Are that I am
so alone
And that I
miss my grandmother.”
(“Only the
Soul Knows How To Sing,” page 23)
