The River Churning 8185107696

Citation preview

The River Churning · a Partition novel

4M O~C~157 Code l·E 95

:.4

Jyoti rmoyee Devi Digitized by

Go gle

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

Digitized >Y

Google

•

iN -5 1996

Dlgitlzedb/

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

Dlgitlzedb/

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

o,g;t""° ,y

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF M CHI GAN

Digitized ,y

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF M CHI GAN

THE RIVER CHURNING

Dlgitlzedb/

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

Digitized ,y

Google

Onglnal from

UNIVERSITY OF M CHI GAN

G

THERIVERC (Epar Ganga Opar Ganga) a Partition novel

JYOTIRMOYEE DEVI ? Translated from the original Bengali by

Enakshi Chatterjee

kal1for women

~

Digitize1l >y

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF M CHIGAN

PK 1730,2~

,Yb ~

c&3

The River Churning was first published in 1995

I q 15

by Kali for Women B1/SHauzKh.u New Delhi 110 016

C 1995 Jyotirmoyee Devi Trust C> 1995 This translation, Enakshi Chatterjee

© 1995 Translation of "Beginnings", Rimili Bhattacharya

All rights reserved

Cover illustration: Chandralekha

ISBN 81-85107-69-6

Typeset by Shruti Designs, New Delhi 110 085 and Printed at Crescent printing Works Pvt. Ltd., Connaught Place, New Delhi 110 001

Dlgitlzedb/

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

G~

Pl '-I t 6 -") 14 t -~,~

Contents Beginnings vii

Introduction xxiv • Author's note XXXlV Adi Parva: The ijeginning 4 Anusasan Parva: The Imposition 31 Stree Parva: The Women 67

Dlgitlzedb/

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

•

Digitized ,y

Google

Onglnal from

UNIVERSITY OF M CHI GAN

Tot~ tortured and exploited women ofall ages and lands

Dlgitlzedb;

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

Digitized ,y

Google

Onglnal from

UNIVERSITY OF M CHI GAN

Beginnings JYOTIRMOYEE DEVI

It is a story of long ago, more than half a century old. Suddenly, in the hitherto straight path of my life there was a complete break. A line that cut deep. And immediately, life lost all its familiar aspects. Even now, so many years later, it is difficult to try and explain the effect this crisis had on one's mind, on one's life and on everyday living. It is the sort of crisis that occurs only in the lives of women; the lives of men are not similarly affected. This I have understood from my very own experience. Just as people caught in nightmares have trouble breathing: they understand what is happening to them but appear to be paralysed; and just as the earth shif~ and moves away from under your feet when there is an earthquake ... the calamity had a somewhat similar effect on me. And as the earth continues to exist within the cycle of day and night, the sun and the moon, so too was I surrounded by my people and friends; but inside myself, this experience made me aware of an extraordinary emptiness and loneliness. It was as if I had suddenly come to a directionless frontier of my mind. As if there was not a soul to be found in that region. But human beings cannot do without company. Even if you want to realise god you search for the company of holy men, the company of honest people. In the material world too, rivers, mountains forests are not to be found in isolation. In the worlds of literature, music and the arts, man is constantly in the search of companions. It is in the light of companions that he can see himself, confront his own shortcomings; share with

and

..

Vll

o,g;t""° ,y

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF M CHI GAN

them the excess of his own feelings and his personality. This need is felt by both big and small, the talented and the ordinary, the good and the bad. But women never get men for friends, nor do they have women friends. One who loves singing does not find a companion to sing with; nor does the one involved in literary activities find another of her kind. So much so, that even she who wants a companion in cooking a.nd sewing does not get one. Yet women need companions just as as as men do. However, as I've already mentioned, women's lives are structurE;d entirely around crises and struggles. Men have no restrictions on their movements. And no restrictions either on whom they may choose for friends. A man may go wherever he may find a talented individual or one who is to his liking. But women are a friendless tribe. It is said that the word sahitya comes from sahit or sath, and sahit means sannidhya. Sannidhya, closeness or the companionship of another human being, is a rare treat in our lives. That may be, but all that sahitya can come to mean now is reading and learning from books. And it was sahitya of that kind which came with its precious burden of katha - stories from some divine land - with tidings of the world of art. W.ith an overwhelming beauty, of the kind that captivates. But after all, it was the education of a bygone age! We had no opportunity to experience its depth, its sweeping realms. Five books by Vidyasagar - from Part I to Bodhoday comprised all our learning. And, ·we heard the Ramayana, the Mahabharata and the Puranas. Leaming began around the age of five and was over by the age of ten or eleven. That marked the entry into domestic lifemarried life. Sometimes, very rarely, we were taught the First English primer or the alphabet: so that we might be able to address letters! It is not really possible to enjoy

...

VIit

Dlgltlzed)y

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF MiCHIGAN

literature with such little learning and knowledge. In fact, at the end of it, there's not even any learning. Even so, you manage. It's like limping along, like a blind person groping. That is why in the midst of such grief, I felt that day that while god played his lila with a human life, society too joined in with its own cruel joke. This was Samaj, with its unending flow of rules and regulations for women. As though we are not human beings but machines run by society. Women today, who have had the chance to mix freely and easily with others in the course of their studies will not know of our times. Besides, in those days, you were likely to come across very few books that you might find were worth reading. Of course, the ones that were available were not unreadable. And because there were so few of them, you kept turning to the same ones. You read them over and over again. It seems in retrospect that it was not such a bad thing after all. I read them over and over Bankimchandra, Roineshchandr.a , Vivekananda, Ramakrishna's Kathamrita, Rabindranath's poetry and Kathasahitya. Along with them I read too, Mankumari, Kamini Roy, Priyamvada and the narrative poems of Girindramohini, Swarnakumari, and eventually fiction of Anurupa Devi, Nirupama Devi, Shanta Devi and Sita Devi. Like the Ramayana, these books that one read 'a score or more' times, were quite good. There was no harm in not being able to get hold of a book that simply could not be read. I lived as though there was an everyday world and at the same time as though no such world existed. As though there was work to be done, but no pleasure to be got out of it; my own kith and kin around me but no real companion, although the huge extended family of those days was in some ways like a companion. In the midst of a life that was without work, joyless, fearful, I • ix

Digitized ;y

Google

Origil'al from

UNIVERSITY OF M,CHIGAN

wrote at times, a few lines here and there. Awkward, disconnected, badly written lines. Around this time I had to come to Calcutta. And this time too, I came into an extended family. Suddenly, all around me were gathered human beings of a different sort. Suddenly I became aware of a different species. It .was a world like any other I had known, but unlike the others, it did not have any of the rude upheavals or petty concerns of the household. These too were my own people; but they did not live immersed in domestic affairs: it was though they were living in a boarding house, an inn or a dharmasala, en route to a pilgrimage spot. Now it seemed in the dark interiors of my mind a lamp suddenly burnt bright, its light like laughter. The lamp in our mind has enough oil in it, and matches by its side. There is a wick too, but the match is damp. Iy

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF M CHIGAN

"Perhaps Ma-Saheb felt that you had a soft spot for Sutara." Aziz smiled, "We have lived together as neighbours since childhood, knowing that we belong to two different religious communities. There is no scope for such soft spots. I, too, have vivid memories of that night, you know. Baba rushed to their house when he heared about the fire from the servants. He took us along. 1here was not a soul in sight Nor was Gopal Babu anywhere around. Karim, Rahim and the rest quietly escaped. "Sutara's mother and sister were not there. Father immediately understood what had happened - the spark from the Calcutta riots had reached our village. The cowshed was in flames. The entire Bamunpara locality was engulfed in fire. Screams could be heard, and a wild uproar. Baba was looking forSutara and the rest. Suddenly he saw a bundle of clothes under the porch. He went near and found it was Sutara, lying in a pool of blood. The door was ajar. Father asked us to come in. Nobody else was around. "We carried Sutara home - myself, Moinu and the servant with father keeping watch. Ma and Sakina were waiting nervously. As soon as she saw us, Sakina burst into tears and said, 'Ba-jaan, is she dead?' "Mother was wiping her tears. Ba-jaan replied, 'No, she's alive.' Then he turned to mother and said, 'Change her clothes, put her in bed. Give her some warm milk. She is badly hurt and has lost consciousness.' "We took her to Ma's room and put her on the bed. · After all, she was Sakina's age, I had seen her in their group, going to school, playing, swimming in the pond, collecting fruits on stormy days. I neyer thought about how old she was or what she looked like. Besides, she was a caste Hindu, there was naturally no question of .entertaining other thoughts. What she has told Sakina is the real truth, I have yet to hear truer words than that.

100 Digitized ,y

Google

Onglnal from

UNIVERSITY OF M CHI GAN

"And what you said is also a historical truth. Mar.riage by force is not a marriage of consent. The underlying idea should be love and respect. "You may remember that Hindu scriptures provide _ for marriages of emergency like Rakhasa, Pashava, Asur and Pishacha. If you can call them marriages, that is He smiled. Ali Saheb grinned in agreement. "You see, continued Aziz, "thoughts about marriage had never occurred to me earlier, or later. Ali I felt was pity for that girl. We all felt sorry for her-homeless and miserable. We had never experienced such bloody encounters. All civilised Muslims resented it but unforhmately we were powerless in the face of the wild orgy." Aziz paused, then went on, "But after what I heard today, that girl has earned my respect. One can love her, but like a sister, a friend. Not as a wife. The question of force and consent would always be there. I think both of them are absolutely right. Such an idea would be quite unworkable." Their mother's voice came through, "Sakina, where are you? Get the milk J9r the children, will you?" Sakina left the room. Moinuddin was a young man now teaching at a college in Karachi. He had been listening quietly all along but now he spoke, "In history we have seen Rajput princesses become Mughal begums after some kind of a ritual marriage. They even bore future Mughul princes. But they retained their Hindu culture, religious practices, everything, though they had no more links with their earlier homes. In the Mughal household they had Hindu temples, Hindu maids. They did not take to Muslim customs or religion, even though they had been through a Muslim wedding. But there was no other interaction between the two families. In our eastern societies, alliances through marriage, the forging of

101 Digitize1l >y

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF M CHIGAN

new relationships is considered very important. Racial and religious prejudices go deep. Charumati Bai (the princess of Rupnagar, the Chanchalkumari of Bankimchandra's Raj Singha) of Kishangarh sought the help of Raj Singha, Rana of Mewar, because she was afraid of such a match. She did not want to be the begum of a Delhi Badshah. It was this religious belief which led Padmini, Iy

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF M CHIGAN

we'll be back by nine. Get ready, we'll take .a taxi or a scooter." Sutara came down after a quick change of clothes. They got into a taxi. "Which way are we going? Delhi has expanded now." "How about the Qudsia gardens of Old Delhi? It's cool and clean, there. Have you been? It's named after a Begum of Aurangzeb's or some other emperor." "No, I haven't been there, it's so far away. The gardens of New Delhi are more popular, made by the new emperors." They both laughed. "I teach history but I have no idea who this Qudsia Begum happens to be," confessed Sutara. "But one can hardly be expected to keep count of all of them, especially the less important ones. We only know of the chief Begum." "It must have been quite a job, managing all those Begums!" said Promode in mock deperation, "Frankly, why did they need so many wives?" "Good question. But think of our kings and emperors, they had no less! We read about them in mythology and history. Even now, in spite of the law against polygamy, you find them in the interiors of royal palaces. The rulers of the princely states may have lost their titles but marriages made in earlier times have not been

declared invalid. They are all there, in many harems of Rajasthan." The taxi pulled up near the gate and they entered. Qudsia Bagh was an old-fashioned garden with large · trees casting deep shadows. Here and and there some attempt at modernisation had been made, with the laying of new flowerbeds. They strolled along the garden paths for a tong time, till it was quite dark. Norm.ally, dusk tends to linger in the north-west, but in the garden the thick foliage obscured the soft glow ofsunset. "Let's sit on that bench," suggested Promode. "It's

127

Dig1tizeo by

Google

Original 'rom

UNIVERSITY Of MICHIGAN

not even past seven yet. I'll take you back by eightthirty." The winter flowers were still in bloom, rose and marigold. There was a mixed fragrance in the air-wet earth, creepers and other unknown flowers. "Tell me about your pilgrimage," said Promode. "I think you're making fun of me! But, you know, I found it a very interesting, very pleasant experience. Call it what you will - the thrill of adventure, of discovering unknown places, making friends, even the sorrow of parting. When you're on the road you learn not only to share but to forget your own worries." Promode laughed. He said, "You are absolutely right. Since you don't meet people from the familiar world it's certainly different to discover the unfamiliar." He gave her a wicked smile.. "No wonder sadhus roam among the unknown, leaving the familiar circle of people!" Both of them grinned and sat in happy silence. All of a sudden Promode said, "You know, I'm going abroad. I've got a chance to work in a big factory-that was why I came to Delhi last time, to interview. And it's all settled now." "When are you leaving?" asked Sutara. She was wondering why Promode was telling her all this. Perhaps he wanted someone to talk to, but what could she possibly say? "Perhaps the beginning of July," said Promode, "depending on when they want me." Both fell into a long silence. Night descended under the hig trees though faint traces of light still lingered in the sky. Children playing in the garden had gone home, only a few young people and some older ones still strolled or sat around. · At long last Sutara broke the silence. "Let's go~ it's getting late." "It's not eight yet, we'll get some transport easily. It 128

Digitized ;y

Google

Origil'al from

UNIVERSITY OF M,CHIGAN

won't take long. I hope it's not a problem if you're late by a few minutes?" · "No, but I should reach by nine." .. They lapsed into silence once again. Promode said abruptly, "My parents want me to get married before I leave." Again, Sutara was surprised by this confidence. "That's a good idea," she said politely. "The girl my mother has chosen is the. beautiful daughter of very rich parents." Her surprise mounting, Sutara said, "I see!" "But I'm against it. I would like to get married when I return, once I'm settled in the job." Not knowing what else to say, Sutara said, 'That's a good idea, too!" A pause. Then Promode asked abruptly, "You wouldn't mariy someone else in the meantime, would you?". Sutara was flabbergasted. "Me? Marry? Why do you ask?" "That's why I'm here, to ask you. Will you wait for me till I come back?" "Me? Are you ... " she couldn't go on. Promode caught hold of her hands. "Yes, Sutara. I want to know what you feel about it." She stared at him, dumbfounded. Then she looked down. Slowly, the tears began to form in her eyes. All the while Promode kept a hold of her hands. She couldn't wipe her eyes. Promode's hands were quite wet. Finally she managed to free one hand and use the end of her sari to wipe her tears. But they kept flowing. Softly, very softly, Promode said, "I hope you won't say no. We talk of you often, Subha and myself. We like you so much. I don't know about love, ~ut we felt so sorry for you. Can you try to like us?" Sutara wiped her eyes and took some time to answer. "I always knew that I had nobody to call my own. I

129

Dlgitlzedb/

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

never dared to think about myseli. Of course, I was very young then, but even later I made no plans for myseli. I had nobody in the whole world. And now you ..." She wiped her eyes again. "Well, then, it's decided. Till I come back. You agree, don't you?" For a few moments Sutara did not know what to say. Then, "Are you saying this just because I have no one? Is that why?" What she wanted to ask was, are you doing this out of pity? Charity? Was this love? Was this kindness? But she·could not bring herseli to utter these thoughts. She did not want pity, she was sure about that. . Promode caught her hand again in the darkness. Sutara could sense that he was smiling though he said nothing. She asked hesitantly, "But what about your people? Will they accept it? Do your brothers and boudis know? Your parents?" · Promode took some time to answer. "Yes, I have told them. Father has no objection, but mother does." Sutara stiffened. Her hands in Promode's grasp were wet and clammy. "I know your mother does not like me at all," she said. "Yes, you're right." "Let us go now. We won't talk about it" "But if I can convince mother?" Sutara was silent. She was weighed down by worry, the burden of disjointed thoughts that couldn't be expressed. The nightmare experience that changed the course of her life came alive in a moment. Nothing had changed. She felt numb, heavy, unable to move her limbs. She had nobody, she has nobody: this n-alisati.on surged within her. Her eyes fell on Promode sitting next to her. Was she dreaming? Was it real? Suddenly

130

Dlgltlzed)y

Google

Original from

UNIVERSITY OF MiCHIGAN

her heart was filled with a strange, unfamiliar feeling. Hope, faith, dependence - she had forgotten what they meant. These twelve long years she had walked alone, like a sleepwalker, with nobody by her side to cheer her, reasslJl'e her. Nobody asked her to come close, they were all scared. Why were they afraid? What about Promode? Was he not troubled by the same fear? She came back to the present with a start.- Apprehen'."' sion overcame her, banishing all hope. She said quietly, "But Promode Babu, wouldn't you ... ?" She left off, not knowing how to say the words. Promode too seen:icd preoccupied. He said, "Go on, wouldn't I what?" · Sutara began after a pause, "Well, for a long time-" Her words came out in disjointed phrases, "You might change...it might occur to you later . . . about me, I mean. I stayed with Tamij I