Tuesday, 10 September 2024

Pati Parameshwar 🌸

 


🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 

1. 

The one to be my Husband ... 

This is the kind I crave 

Like the Sarva Shreshtha Pati ... 

ShivShankara Mahadev  


2. 

The Adi Purusha who is 

The epitome of Divine Masculine

Far from a coward and effeminate

Not arrogant, narcissist or vain


3. 

Usullied by negativity

As toxic-resistant as Neelakanth

Simple, humble and decent

As benevolent as Bholenath 


4. 

That firmly controlled Adiyogi

Who reduced Cupid to ashes

A Celibate I claim sole rights on 

Pure, Loyal and Monogamous 


5.

The Ardhnarishwar for whom 

Wife is Ardhangini, Better Half 

NOT item, chick or babes

A mere trophy or show-off 


6.

That Lord Shiva

Who without Shakti is Shava 

Two beings of One Soul

Intertwined like Bhavani - Bhava 


7.

The Kailashpati for whom 

Marriage is NOT mere fun & infatuation

with a spoilt Princess 

But it's about Family and Future 

together with Gauri, The Goddess 


8.

That Gyanmurti who 

Doesn't want to just chatter and gossip 

But talks about Life, Death, Earth and Heavens ... And such topics so deep 


9.

The Dakshinamurthy who is

Wise with Awareness complete

Not a petty empty holder of 

Some fancy degrees obsolete 


10.

The Mahayogi for whom 

Over-materialism is dust 

As minimalist as Asutosha 

Self-contentment is a must 


11. 

That Nataraja for whom 

Art itself is Spirituality 

Soulful Art with Cosmic Connect

Inspiring my own creativity 


12. 

The Viargi who abhors 

Normal modern society 

And has his own little world 

Created away from all insanity 


13. 

The Sarvopari Premi in all ways

As enamoured as Kameshwara 

Amorous channeled through Arts

Lasya, Sangeeta, Ananda Tandava 


14. 

Immortalising his Beloved 

He showed the World how 

54 Shakti Peethas he built 

Each with its own Bhairav 


15. 

Such pleasing countenance

Like Kanta Kamalaksha 

Ungroomed yet handsome 

The rugged Sunderesha 


16. 

The Mahesha who fills 

the Void left by my Father 

The Dayaesha who gives me 

the care of my Mother 


17. 

The Sarwesha who is my All

and makes me Whole 

Together for life and beyond 

Like Parvati - Paramesha 


 18.

The Avyagra who provides stability

Rock solid support as Achala

Makes me realise my essence 

And sets me free of dogmas like Hara 


19. 

Rudra and Sadashiva 

The best among men

A gentle gaint balanced

Knowing which to be when 


20. 

Lies low under feet of Angry Kali 

Handling all seasons of Prakruti

Takes pride in wife's success 

Like the messenger for Shivadooti 


21. 

The Shambhu who

Makes me look up and think ... 

Is he really just a human? 

It cannot be ... He's definitely DIVINE ! 


22. 

Compromising on these 

standards ... I will never

My Pati must definitely be ...

quite like PARAMESHWAR


23. 

A Spiritual Love I seek 

One like Uma - Maheshwar

Mutual Respect and Support

A Divine Relationship forever 


24. 

The Cosmic Law says

For every She , there is a He

So there is someone out there

Just for ME ... Just like ME

Sunday, 13 August 2023

An Ode to Dad 🪔

🌟 An Ode to My Dad 🌟


*Dear Dad, with intense love and faith 

Back home, do you I summon 

Come and catch a glimpse of 

Your little girl grown into a woman


*A MasterChef, I'm called 

But all the culinary skill is waste 

What's the use of it , Dear Dad

When even a morsel from my hand, YOU can't taste 


*For functions and grand occasions

Now I wear a saree

But what value holds any compliment

When YOU don't see the look I carry 


*PhD scholar, I am 

Creating a thesis worth a doctoral 

But on many lonly nights, I grapple alone without guidance 

Without OUR deep talks, habitually nocturnal 


*Books, poems, music, photo edits

Art of all kinds I still explore

But whom should I share my ideas with 

Without YOU around, my Creative Side gets less adore



*A smartphone now I have 

With all social networking sites

But I keeping thinking how it would be

To exchange with YOU all the jokes, edits, comments or likes 


*Slightly extroverted am I now

Taking deep interest in each festive celebration

But I feel a gaping void every time 

That YOU aren't around to see my tasteful decoration 


*You are missed a lot, Dear Dad 

So far, yet I feel you near 

With your memories of you, your ideals and principles 

Which I will always hold dear 


*Be it any situation

How much ever troublesome

I just need to remember you

To feel the warmth of your blessings wholesome


 *Any tight spot

When my vision gets blurred

In my mind, it flashes  

Your timely wise word


*Amist the tide of degenerate modernity 

When overwhelmed with scruples

As a guiding light and boundaries

Come handy your principles 


*Dear Dad, with my heart full of your memories, I promise to honour

Everything You had imbibed when I was a bud 

And without even a thought of overstepping the line 

To always uphold the honour of your blood
































Thursday, 6 October 2022

Daughter of Durga

🪔🌺🙏


 *Being a woman as I am 

Is all wrong they say

Listen to me, they teach

What's the right way 


*Tumeric powder for fair skin

Suggests the all-knowing traditional trad

Na, better to use creams and bleach

Advices the snobbish ultra-modern mod 


*Fully dress up and decked - trad says carry your belief on body like a doll inert

Mod dressing is exotic and catching up the latest style expert

Well, don't both deny comfort ?


*Trad says English speaking is bad, especially for a girl

Mod feels mastery over mother tongue to be backward, rural 


*Trad opines that too much of education corrupts females 

Mod expects one to be a know-it-all, memorizing world's all tales 


*Trad favous the family above all

Mod is in favour of friendships standing tall - Both ignore the individual inner CALL  


*Trad life is all full of blind beliefs and superstitions 

Mod life is totally rational, devoid of emotions 


*Trad demands to change lifestyle and tastes according to husband

Mod too demands constant change, but according to latest trend


*Trad overglorifies marriage and motherhood, reducing women to drudgery and reproduction

Mod overglorifies ambitious career, leading to stress and forced masculization


*Trad buries self underneath 

In name of being rooted 

Mod gives wings to fly 

Leaving one fully uprooted


*Trad life’s fulfillment comes 

Living according to Tradition 

The Mod asks are you even alive, Without being up-to-date Modern 


*Both say they advice out of love & care 

To make their crap seem sensible 

They all talk and laugh behind my back

And are Gossip, Bitchy, Judgemental 


*This way or that

Caught between the Deep Sea and Devil

I decided to take cream of both sides 

And filter out the husk of Evil


*A middle path I choose to create 

Away from all mindless scrutiny 

I'm not here to fulfill expectations

I'm born with my own Destiny 


*Can't pick one side of these two 

As they both are wrong 

As I can Remain a Woman 

And also be Strong 


*With flaws and fails and virtues and wins

I am what I AM

Unmindful of incessant chatter 

March to the beat of my own Drum 


*Making annoying assumptions 

Both are two sides of the same coin

Never really fully acknowledge and appreciate 

the vastness and depth of the Feminine 


*Which is why I finally turn towards the Divine 

While fully retaining control of

sane own mind of mine 


*Shielded away from madness, I'm my own Queen secluded in Purdah

Always cared and loved, I'm proud to be,

Daughter of Mother Goddess Durga 🪔🌺🙏

Tuesday, 7 June 2022

ZIRA : One Shot



Prince Kezin let out a deep sigh as he sat on his bed with closed eyes, legs outstretched. There was a terrible pain ransacking his leg, due to a wound caused by an arrow. The pain was unbearable, but it was nothing in comparison to the turmoil ranging in his mind. 


He had imagined this battle to be a wonderful opportunity to fulfil one of his long-cherished childhood dream. But a cruel twist of fate had now dashed all his hopes to the grounds. 


As with any other day, the Prince had called in the medical staff to get treated for the day's injuries. The royal doctor, on close examination of a particular wound on the leg, had declared that the Prince had been hit by the vicious 'Nanjjiu' arrow. 


This meant that a seemingly simple arrow, which had struck the Price, had been tipped with a kind of deadly poison. The poison had already entered the blood of the Prince and would take hardly a day to spread throughout his body and kill him. The only known antidote of this poison was available among the tribal folks, and was almost impossible to procure within a day. The tragedy was so bad that even arrangments for the funeral rites of the Prince had already started. 


The Prince’s mind went numb when he tried to process all the happenings. This particular battle was very crucial, not only for his kingdom but also for himself on a personal front. This was because of the announcement made by the King just before the troops set out. The one to return to the capital with the highest number of severed heads would be awarded with the most prestigious, highly revered ancient sword, ‘The Zira'. 


As with any other royal kid, winning the Sword was the most cherished dream of Prince Kezin, right from his childhood. The Sword had mythical origins, and was said to confer Divine Powers upon its owner. Owning that Sword was a matter of great honour to any royal male. The Sword changed owners at regular intervals of 25 years, and a new owner was often decided on the basis of martial prowess. Every male member of the royal family dreamt of owning that Sword. That particular Sword was as much coveted as the Royal Crown. 


But now, all of his hopes and dreams had evaporated into thin air. He barely had a day to live. What was the way out? Was there even a way? 


Sound of approaching footsteps jerked the Price out of his deep thoughts. He saw his stepbrother, Prince Karvarn standing in front of him. He held a tiny gold jar in one hand and a scroll in another. He had a kind of triumphant smug look on his face which made Prince Kezin suspect some foul play. 


Prince Karvarn had come to the bedside of his dying stepbrother with an offer. He claimed that the tiny jar in his hand contained the antidote which he had managed to procure from tribal folks. The scroll was a declaration, singing which would mean permanent excommunication of Prince Kezin from Royalty, which, in turn, would make him unfit for competing for the Sword. Signing the letter would make him a permanent bonded slave of his stepbrother, but in return, he would get the life-saving antidote. And he didn’t have much time to think; the poison was already acting up. It was a choice between dying as a warrior with an unfulfilled dream, against living as a menial bonded slave for his stepbrother. 


Caught between the Devil and the Deep Sea, Prince Kezin remembered the words of his mentor to always act like a true fierce Royal. A 'true' , 'fierce', 'ruthless' royal. 


"Life brings many opportunities. Death brings none. So, ALWAYS chose Life over death." 


Accordingly, Prince Kezin signed the letter and swallowed the antidote. But the first among the heaps of severed heads he carried back to the capital was that of his own stepbrother. He declared that his brother was a brave martyr who was killed by the enemy, and he had brought back his head in order to commemorate his sacrifice. Prince Karvarn was duly honoured for his sacrifice. His severed head was embalmed and set up to stand as a symbol of bravery and martyrdom. Alongside, in a grand celebration, the bravery and examplary courage of Prince Kezin was extolled and he was awarded 'The Zira'. 


Prince Kezin carried no guilt in his heart. His brother had played a very lowly trick on him, which was unbecoming of a royal. He, on the other hand, had acted as a true royal by upholding the age-old principle of 'eliminating threats at the first chance'. He was a true royal, by values and deeds, and he believed, with all his heart, that he indeed was only one deserving of the Sword.


-----

Friday, 17 September 2021

Iron Man for the Land of Ore

 Hyderabad Karnataka Liberation 



A fictional retelling of the Liberation Movement of Hyderabad-Karnataka area, through the eyes of an enigmatic archetype with mythological connotations.


         1.Submerged  
         2.Resistance
         3.Salvation


Submerged

HE sneaked out of his abode and strolled contemplatively across the far-stretching sacred rocky hills of the Deccan plateau; with a number of majestic ancient temple-towers rising behind and places worth a mention in history lying strewn all around below him. Black wild boars were indigenous to this region and too common a sight, unless one had the insight to realize. But right now, the people right here were quite disturbed to notice it. There was something – a huge thing – happening among the, the visuals of which were just too gory.

HE knew it.

HE had witnessed it all.

Through all the times and ages.

This particular place had always peculiar. An oasis of sorts.

An oasis of hope and prosperity during turbulent times.

An isolated bit of chaos and trauma during otherwise happy times.

One day, it was the homeland of mighty kings and lofty philosophers.

Next day, it was the massacre ground for plundering invaders.

Flowers turned to thorns. Saviours turned to traitors.

It was the same now.

HE was witnessing the land that was once the mighty Vijayanagara under the whimsical fist of the Nizams, whose rule shut out every possible ray of light and hope

While its neighbours were busy basking in their victory and breathing in the fresh winds of freedom and independence, a huge black cloud of gloom and terror loomed over this particular area.

All because of the tyrannical Nizam, Mir Osman Ali Khan, who was one of the most powerful people of that era, wanted his own rule to continue in the region. He was not only extremely powerful but had also accumulated enormous wealth, which drew attention from not only all the corners of India, but also the world (Time Magazine). He was considered to be one amongst the wealthiest people of those times. His affluence was the reason behind his insolence.

The Nizam stubbornly refused to hand over the reins to the newly formed Indian government. On the very day (15 August 1947) that the country declared itself Independent, the Nizam had openly declared his state of Hyderabad as an independent territory, in spite of repeated requests from the national leaders of that time.

Worse still, he threatened to take advantage of the horrific Partition and make his territory a part of the newly formed nation. He had been granted a year’s time to make a final decision. Taking advantage of this, the Nizam involved in secret alliance with his ideological homeland and supplied funds for its upcoming war with India, with the idea of merging his territory with it.

The natives ran the risk of being totally alienated from their neighbours.

They would be moored on an island amongst a union of states.

They would be said to be citizens of another country.

The freedom of the neighbours had in fact, doubled the troubles of the people here. The fight that the people might put up was feared by the rulers. So, the citizens were now being treated as criminals in their own homeland. Their own home was now worse than a torture prison.

And the basis of all of this mayhem was the army of Razkars.

Razkars were common citizens, who were turned into militants by ideological impact. They were people for who their ideology was higher and dearer than anything else in the world. They feared on one, not even the Nizam. The Nizam, in fact, was a puppet ruler in their hands. They bowed only to their One True God. They were ideological extremists, who were prepared to go to any extremes and followed their holy scriptures right to the last word.

This self-formed army unleashed a regime of terror in the region. Every kind of torture imaginable was inflicted by them upon the citizens – be it dacoit, plunder, murder, kidnapping and sexual abuse of women. The very mention of this extremist organisation induced tremors in the hearts of the masses. The army, though made up of amateurs, proved to be a tough nut to crack.

Resistance

HE was the witness for one more layer of history was being encrusted onto the already deep and myriad history of this place.

The wheel of time rotates. History repeats.

Same plundering. Same murders. Same threatening.

Same fleeing. Same fighting. Same resistance.

The strain of oppression and fear of alienation forced the people to revolt.

Some turn to flight mode. They fled from their places, leaving behind their ancestral lands and mansions.

The brave-hearts chose to stay back and fight. Simpleton villagers had to turn into hardened warriors overnight, in order to fight and defend their village.

Flee or die.

Cower and bow down to the undue demands of the power-wielders to earn the basic right to exist.

He also knew about the multifaceted revolt of the residents.

What started out as a petty peasant revolt had now blown out of proportion into a full-fledged civil war. The Nizam and his close ones owned about 40% of the total land in their region. Forceful bonded labour system was followed there, wherein landless people were forced to work for bare minimum maintained in the fields of their masters. Slavery too wasn’t uncommon. Heavy taxes were leaved on those who did own property. This naturally led the poorer sections of the society to protest against the brutal feudal system.

Patriotism was now a sin. Anyone found praising the idea of a united country was punished for indolence. Love towards the mother land was deemed as treachery against the ruler. Vande Matarm continued to be a cry of revolt and revolution, for long even after the British had left. The Vande Mataram movement continued here, as a cry of the people to be recognised as citizens of the newly formed nation.

The bifurcation of the nation had deeply scarred the psyche of the people. It had, in a way, dissected the very soul of India. People who had come together as one in their fight against the British had now again been divided on communal lines. And hence, not belonging to the same community as the ruler of the land was a crime, for which the only penance was to perish.

The giant black wild boar stood stoically upon the far-stretching sacred rocky hills of the Deccan plateau; with a number of majestic ancient temple-towers rising behind him and places worth a mention in history lying strewn all around below him. The places lying below were in the process of creating history, as revolt was rising in every tiny village of the region. Some of the places even created a permanent place for themselves in history by displaying exemplary resilience and bravery under the harrowingly tyrannical times.

The village of Gorta in Basavakalyana, Karnataka would go on to be known as the Jallianwala Bagh of the South. People would sing folk songs (Bhulai Pada) and install stone plaques to commemorate the bravery and sacrifice of their townsmen of yore, who were butchered mercilessly by the razkars.

Malli village in Jewargi taluk of Kalburgi district, Karnataka would be remembered as the village of patriots, who had dared to hoist the Indian National Flag right under the nose of the Nizam’s rule and face vicious persecution and massacre for it.

The Bairanpalli village of Telangana would earn the epithet of Veera Bairanpalli, in honour of its brave residents who fought the brutal razkars tooth and nail. Not only men, but even women – who were dishonoured by the razkars, put up a brave face and fought back.

The festival of Battukamma was tainted with the traumatic events of this period. The beautiful festival involved merry dancing by women of all ages, together in honour of the Mother Goddess. The tradition was unique to Andhra Pradesh, it was the pride of the local culture. But the razkars had ensured that this glorious bit of tradition was forever stained with the muck of shame in the psyche of the people. The razkars forced the women to do the same dance, but in a naked manner, as a sign of making them dancing to their tunes. This one particular tradition would henceforth be remembered in relation to the atrocities of the razkars.

Many more villages would hold the memories of the camps built in there. There were hundreds of such camps along the borderline of the Nizam region, which acted as refugee camps for the terrorized people and also as a site for assembling martial forces. A number of such camps were set up, the most important one being set in Mudagire, Bellary, Solapur, Bijapur, Dharwad, etc. – These camps were protection and military bases for the common masses who were organizing themselves and joining hands to fight back their oppression.

Guerrilla warfare was the go-to form of warfare. People made use of their crop fields as a suitable hideout to launch attacks on the advancing army of the razkars. Old desolated forts and temples also came in handy. The common masses, armed with rustic equipment and loads of courage, did everything within their power to fight back their captors.

The bear was aware of the various sources which had poured in help Organizations like the Arya Samaj and the Hindu Mahasabha had extended their helping hands to the courageous folks who were holding fort against the Nizam. A number of leaders had sprouted up, in various fronts, to lead the masses to organized agitation. The spirit to fight had risen from within.

Knowledge was the need of the hour for the uneducated masses. The Library Movement came up to cater to this need. The movement not only opened up libraries but also launched up the concept of mobile library. Books were placed alongside food and beverages in roadside eateries. Passing on knowledge in local, comprehensible language was of utmost importance. The educated people themselves rose to the occasion and created the Library Movement, for the people, by the people.

Vande Mataram was still the war-cry of the resolute masses. Singing it got students debarred from the Osmainan University. This turned the movement gain even more momentum. Vande Mataram was something which irked the Nizam Government to no end. Ramachandra Rao, who led the struggle in this direction, was to be remembered as Vande Mataram Ramachandra Rao.

Swami Ramananda Teertha of Arya Samaj was on the forefront of this fight. He was an educator and a fighter. He was the prime figure who spearheaded the liberation movement of Hyderabad, using non-violent satyagraha movements as his primary defensive measure against the violent razkars.

Then, there was Hardikar Manjappa, who was known as the Gandhi of Karnataka, led the struggle by uniting Hindus irrespective of castes and popularising khadi as a symbol of revolt.

Even tribals weren’t left behind. The Gond tribe took an active part and liberated 12 villages from the clutches of the Nizam’s feudalism. Their leader, Komaram Bhim Gaaru was the mastermind behind the guerrilla warfare and self-sustenance during the fight.

Salvation

HE observed that, just like the land which held tons of iron, but in the form of ore; the people of the land were brave, no doubt, but they were still amateur and inorganized, which forced them to remain in defence mode.

There was the need of offensive attack, of attacking the very roots and overthrowing the Nizam rule once for all.

Then it happened!

HE had observed that the past 5 days of the struggle have been different. There was a change, a drastic change and the entire atmosphere of the struggle had changed overnight.

Operation Polo – it was called. The operation was a direct police action against the razkars.

There was a man leading them.

He was the man who had addressed the Nizam rule as cancer.

The one leader who dared to brush aside defensive and deferential tactics and launched a straightforward attack at the razkars.

Who was he?

The land of iron ores demanded nerve of pure iron.

And that exactly what he was!

The land of iron ores was saved by the Iron Man of India.

The Iron Man of India … Sardar Vallabhai Patel. The first … Minister of Independent India.

The date was 17 September 1948.

It was the day when ‘a cancerous tumour in the belly of India’ was removed.

The day when the mighty Nizam of Hyderabad bowed down his head in surrender.

The day when the Hyderabad State breathed freely.

The day when its citizens experienced the taste of freedom for the first time.

Operation Polo succeeded in overpowering the razkar army.

The aristocrats of Hyderabad fled.

The Nizam surrendered to the Nation.

Hyderabad was now officially a part of the Indian State.

Rising his snort high into the air, the giant boar let out an echoing triumphant roar, which revibrated throughout the rocky hills. Motherland was safe again. The demons had been slayed and the masses drowning in misery had been uplifted. Varaha then disappeared back into the sacred hills, heading towards the ringing bells of his temple.


Streams of blood had flowed. Lives lost.
Families displaced.

The pathos of the region remains.

The suffering and sacrifices would remain entrenched in the minds of the people.

But this was neither the first time, nor the last time.

Every time it happened; a leader rose.
Every time it happens; a leader needs to rise.


Thursday, 28 January 2021

The Crystal Ball 🔮

 ** The Crystal Ball **




🌒

When I'm clouded 

By confusion, fear or Doubt

I turn to the Divine Crystal Ball

To reveal the answers sought 


🌓

Crowned with Holy heavenly halo

Glows with soft celestial grace

Its mere sight evokes introspection

Into its mythical depths I gaze 


🌔

Fogggy obscured sometimes

For it to clear do I patiently wait

And mirroring our earthly lives

Goes through phrases like our Fate 


🌕

Formations visible on it

Activates my inner clairvoyant

Mind quientens up to decipher

The upcoming worries and enjoyment 


🌖

Sometimes a silent whisper

Sometimes a intutive thought

The way differs everytime

But the message is right brought 


🌗

It lies high up there ...

The sacred otherworld sphere

The doorway to higher realms

Allures me to fly away from here 


🌘

It lights up The Dark

The silent black Night

Illuminates All Mysteries

All psychic powers ignite 


🌙🌊

Magnatising charm it holds

It rises powerful waves

It alchemises everything

Putting light into the deepest caves


🎑

The intoxicating immortal

The Oracle, Primeval Rune

The core of all Mystical

It's mundanely called the Moon

Monday, 14 September 2020

"Untouchable"


UNTOUCHABLE 🌸



🌼🌼🌼

The side door swings back and forth
As in and out they run
A mischievous lot, they were
My maid's little children

Grandma frowned at them
Run round, they dare?
Outcaste and impure
Untouchables, they are

Grandpa smiled and said
Right you are indeed!
Untouchable they are
From vanity, pride, greed

Untouchable to sorrow
Nothing ever soils their joy
Untouchable to any worry
Smile fades not from their eye

They mind not of the world around
Untouchable to ideals so high
Their hearts are filled with love alone
Innocence they personify

Untouchable were their souls
For the insults and abuse hurled
Untouchables they indeed were
For the harshness of the world

Untouchable for the ways of the world
With joy and love they shine
Untouchable for the evils of mankind
They embody a spark of the Divine

They play and laugh gleefully
Standing by the threshold
Untouchable for the reality outside
So bitter, cruel and cold

They peek outside curiously
May this threshold they not cross
Innocence, laughter, smiles and joys
All are an irreversible loss

Moist eyed smiling nodded granny
Ceased being a tryanny
Through their play, frolice and fun
A valuable lesson I did learn

Play and run around as they wish
May their smile always sparkle
Unsullied by any malicious bias
May their eyes always twinkle

All the prejudices, vile and awful
May the world spoil them never
From the dirty murky mankind
Let they remain untouchables forever

🌼🌼🌼

Sunday, 31 May 2020

Somewhere around the BORDER



PC: Internet 


Alpha and Luna sat in silence over the hilltop, in deep contemplation. There was something – a huge thing – happening among the humans living around them, the visuals of which had deeply disturbed them. It was all just too gory and bloodstained. That human beings would turn so very bloodthirsty,
that go against their own species, was a mind-blogging thought for the parents of the wolf pack.

Soon, a group of five cubs surrounded their parents. They too had seen the gruesome sights of the happenings around, and it had piqued their interest. Their parents had forbidden them from investigating the matter on their own, so it was now on the shoulders of the parents to quench the curiosity of their young naïve cubs.

Alpha snapped out from his contemplation when he noticed all the inquisitive eyes around him. He looked at Luna, who gave him a short nod. Signaling his kids to come closer to him, he begins his narration.

“It’s a case of marking territories. Just like us, human beings too mark territories and don’t like any trespassers.”

“Wow! Humans seem to be as territorial as animals.” exclaimed Vinexa, the second among the siblings.

Alpha nodded “They indeed are. The concept of territory is deeply ingrained in their brains, just like for us. Migration within territory happens, but in case of other territories, only visiting is usually allowed. They are very possessive over their territories.”

“Such possessiveness about territory is encouraged, just like among us. They call it patriotism.” added Luna.

“But how do they mark territories? I haven’t seen any human releasing their scent. Nor are there any natural territory boundaries here, like a river or a mountain.” observed Wang, the eldest sibling.

“No, they don’t use natural markers as boundaries. They make their own boundaries. They create drawings of landscapes and mark boundaries on that. Such drawings are called maps.” Alpha explained.

“They mark boundaries on drawings! That sounds so artificial.” squeaked the youngest one, Koko.

“They are indeed artificial. But when have these humans ever done anything natural?” sneered Luna.

All of the pack jeeringly approved.

“Yes” said Alpha. “These humans are heavily inclined towards everything that is unnatural and artificial. Look at this particular case. We divide territories on the basis of natural divisions like genetics and bloodline, but these humans here are diving it on the basis on the basis of religion, which is again a man-made construct.”

“Religion?” enquired Lomb, the third sibling.

“Well, it’s what the humans call their ritualistic practice of trying to connect to their Primordial Sense.” Alpha clarified.

“These humans have gone too far from Nature. They are too much dependent on their mind, which has led to them being cut off from their own hearts and gut. They can no longer hear the Higher Call. One clear example is the way they die en-masses when any disaster strikes. They can’t sense it
beforehand, even with all the brainy stuff they use. They can’t escape like us in advance. This shows how lost and far they are from the Primordial Sense. That’s why they have developed religions – with
exaggerated, over - elaborate practices to help them connect back to their instincts which they call the “Inner Truth”. Luna elaborated.

“And there are a number of religions among the humans. Each differs from the other in its practices. These differences often cause conflicts among humans.” sighed the wise old Alpha. “Same is the case here. They have marked boundaries on the basis of religion and people are rushing about to be on the
correct side of the border, based on their religion. This is the cause of all the mayhem we are presently witnessing.”

All the cubs let of sighs of relief, with “hmm” and “ooh” sounds – indicating that their curiosity was finally satisfied. 

Suddenly, the thoughtful Shwna spoke up. “It means that these humans are killing each other only due to their difference in the way they connect to the Primordial Sense? How ironic and idiotic!”

Alpha gave a wry smile. “Yes. It is indeed ironic. Killing without reason (food/defense) shows lack of empathy and compassion, which just shows how far these humans are from the Higher Sense. Killing for seeking to connect with the Higher Sense in a different way … that’s something which is really silly and absurd.” 

“And then, these people have the audacity to boast of being the most advanced among all creatures! They think of civilization as being as far from Nature as possible. They are disconnected from the Primordial Sense itself and depend on pretentious rituals to connect back. Also, they make big claims about all the brainy stuff they use. But one should look at them when a calamity strikes! They suffer horribly, despite all the luxuries and comforts they allegedly have.” Luna ended her rant with a deep breath. 

Wang took after his mother’s rant with one of his own. “Worst of all, they think that equalizing them to animals is an insult. Rather, equalizing yourself to us is an insult to US! Please stop it! We may be cruel, beastly, cunning, uncivilized, barbaric – whatever you think of us to be. Our brains may be not as developed as yours. But we are way better off. We live in the lap of Nature. And we are connected to the Primordial Sense. We rely on our gut instincts for survival, which has always proven to be far more efficient than your brainy stuff. You kill your own species on trivial matters … your species itself seems to be a nuisance for Nature.” 

All of the pack smirked in agreement.

They then turned towards the setting sun to take note of the time, so as to continue with the day’s duties. 

Being a TRUE Woman

PC: Internet 

I’m an introvert in an extrovert world.

I’m a feeler in a world of thinkers.

I strive to be authentic in a world of fakers. 

And worst of all, I’m a woman in a (supposedly) man’s world.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌗🌗🌘🌑

“One gets birth of a woman due to past life sins” – declares the Hindu scriptures. This seems to just be a casual rant of a misogynist who later gained fame as a philosopher (as it often happens in patriarchal societies). But the Indian (especially Hindu) society makes sure that these words come true. Society makes sure that women feel cursed for just being born as women – by burdening them with roles, duties, expectations, judgements, traditions, etc. 

… ... ... 

Religion is said to be a path to self-realization. It’s supposed to make people shun away the
distractions of the world and make them turn inward, towards the Inner Truth and Authenticity. 

But in reality, religion was hardly any of this - it encouraged mindless superstitions, endless rites and rituals and other such rubbish. It felt hallow, with no substance – it was very shallow with no depth or meaning.

But I am a “modern”, “educated” woman, right? Why should I bother about religion?

Well, to be honest, being educated just makes it worse. 

I can no longer remain blissfully ignorant and turn a blind eye towards all the blood boiling injustice meted out by religion. 
I can no longer buy into the bunkum that all the restrictions are beneficial for women and does good to them. 

Also, the so-called “modern”, “educated” society was in no way better than the “orthodox” “traditional” society. It was just as fake and superficial. It was quite pretentious in nature, with people who boasted to be broad-minded but in reality, were cold-hearted.

Both the societies are equally misogynist – just that one is open about it and the other more subtle.

Both have expectations about women – both expect women to uphold certain standards – both judge women for not being good “enough" ... 

Enough !!! 

I have had ENOUGH !

I just wanted to leap out of all this mess.

*Neither religion nor education gave answers to my haunting questions about life. 
*Neither of them fulfilled me nor did they give me any form of peace or solace in
life. 
*I wanted to break free from this restricted life – shackled by religion on one hand and modernity on the other. 
* I wanted to live on my own - find my own purpose of life and live authentically, all on
my own, without the need to be pretentious and fake.

A woman leading her own life, leaving behind her family, was traditionally unheard of. Indeed, the very idea was scandalous. A woman was ALWAYS supposed to adjust and compromise with her husband’s family, in spite of facing grave problems. 

And here, I didn’t even have any such problem. I wasn’t harassed by my husband or in-laws, so according to the standards of the society, me thinking of leaving my family behind was just an outburst of frustration caused by routine life. “Don’t worry, it will gradually fade. Just worship this particular deity every day. Recite this stotram, you will get peace of mind.” – This was their standard reply.

And then there were some gossip-mongers, who slung mud on my character, saying that I was planning to elope with some other guy.

HUH!

A guy who does the very same thing (of leaving behind family) becomes a saint, a Guru. But a woman who even thinks of it becomes a whore!

Religion had heavily restricted the whole concept of attending the Ultimate Truth only to men. Women were immersed in the darkness of superstitions and weren’t allowed to seek the Truth, perhaps due to the fear that they would cease to be slaves if they did! 

And what to say of the modern society? It was certainly not free of gossipers and mud-slingers. But unlike the orthodox society, it didn’t object to women leaving behind their families, as long as they became corporate wage slaves and immersed themselves in the mire of materialism. Finding the Ultimate Truth, in their context, often translated to finding a job which one enjoyed. I didn’t want that; I didn’t want to erode my energy trying to fend for myself – so the modern society didn’t approve of me. 

Also, the “modern” society only liked to side with women who were “victims” – widows, domestic violence sufferers, abandoned women, etc. I was neither of these – and was therefore considered to be unsuitable for their support and charity. The “modern’ society only liked to pity women and sympathize with them – it didn’t actually seem interested in any form of solidarity or empowerment. 

My idea of leaving behind my family, when I had no problems within sight, was always met with ridicule. “See a physiatrist, dear. You need counselling.” was the oft-repeated advice I received from the modern, educated society. 

Hounded thus by people of both sides, I one day took the bold step and escaped into the forest. 

I saw the old haunted mansion there. As I neared it, an old lady came out and looked deep into my eyes. 

There, in her eyes, laid all my answers … 👀👭🔥🔴

Saturday, 30 May 2020

When WOMEN connect ...

Characters : Virmati (Difficult Daughters), Rosie (The Guide by R.K. Narayan), Priyanka, Esha, Radhika (One Night at a Call Centre by Chetan Bhagat) 




Virmati’s eyes turned all around the café as she sat sipping coffee. She was waiting for her friends - four of them - who were her soul sisters. Though Virmati had tons of friends in her personal and professional circle, the bond she shared with these four women was unique – it was more soulful. It was not just blood-bound or professional. It was more of matching wavelengths - born out of shared ideologies and experiences.

All of them (including Virmati) were “modern, educated” Indian women, who were independent and opiniated. This was something which was totally radical in Indian society, and had therefore alienated these women from the rest of the society (including their own families). Besides ideology, bitter experiences due to patriarchy was another thing which these women shared in common. The lives (both personal and professional) of each of these women had been hounded by patriarchy. While this was a common thing for almost all Indian women, what set these five women apart was that they chose to rise above it and took their own lives into their own hands and decided to work out their own destinies.

Rosie, who happened to be one of Virmati’s oldest friend, was not even an Indian. She was the wife of a British archeologist, Marco. Her “educated” British husband had bound her up in unseen chains; he had forbidden her from following her passion of dance. However, she later found an ally in Raju, who helped her pursue her passion. But this very ‘ally’ turned out to be a nuisance later on, when he wanted to make as much money as possible from her dance performances. He even started to assume that he had control over Rosie, as he had given her a second chance at life. Thankfully, Rosie had ditched him and was now leading an independent life.

“Poor Rosie, she just jumped from the Devil to the Deep Sea.” mused Virmati. She would relate a lot to Rosie, as she herself had been foolish enough to fall in love with a (already married) man, believing that he would help her follow her dreams.

“Depending on any man to fulfill our dreams is never a good idea, no matter how-much-ever friendly he seems. It’s always best for women to be self-reliant.”

Virmati had decided to impart this very piece of wisdom to her three young friends: Priyanka, Esha and Radhika. All three of them were quite young and it was only natural for them to seek male partners. Two of them – Priyanka and Esha were already dating, while Radhika was a recent divorcee.

All the three girls were quite smart and determined. They also had significant dreams – which Virmati feared would go haywire if they fell in ‘love’ and started to depend on their man to “support” them.

The three of them were former colleagues at a call center. A strange call one night had changed their destinies forever, when they decided to face the battles of their life upfront and live out their own dreams. Each had already been disowned by their families – but they lived together and supported each other, giving strength and encouragement. Their sense of solidarity and sisterhood had impressed Virmati a lot, and she had taken the three into her guardianship – becoming their matriarch.

Priyanka had been a victim of her mother’s internalized misogyny, just like Virmati. She had to constantly put up with her mother’s double standards at home and had to even fight off a forced arranged marriage, which she had been coerced to agree to by her manipulative mother. Priyanka had discovered that her would-be husband was a spineless momma’s boy, who had lied to her and was trying to trap her by flaunting his wealth and riches. Her mother had continued her scheming drama and had faked three heart attack when Priyanka called off the alliance, but Priyanka stayed strong and didn’t bow down to her mother. This had made Priyanka’s relations with her family turn sour. Virmati would easily relate to her; Priyanka was as much a ‘difficult daughter’ as she herself had been. Priyanka had now quit working and had gone back to study B.Ed. (with her own money), as she dreamt of opening a nursery playschool. She had also gone back to dating her ex-boyfriend Shyam. He was her colleague and the two of them had dated for several years, until Priyanka’s nosy mother caused disturbances in their relationships, ultimately leading to their breakup. The two of them had now prioritized their career and were working hard to build up a stable career before entering into a stable relationship (marriage).

Esha had the worst experiences of all in the group. She had modelling aspirations, which had led to her being sexually harassed. She had once “sinned” i.e., had agreed to be used as a sex-object by a creepy old man who promised her modelling chances. That had caused her a lot of guilt, shame and trauma. She was now slowly recovering, helped by her friends (her family had already disowned her because of her modelling dreams). She was working for an NGO and was also dating Varun, her colleague from the call center. He was the same guy who had abused and called her names for her "sin”. He had, of course, apologized, but Esha’s choice of dating him was not something Virmati approved of. Virmati also hoped that Esha doesn’t give up on her modelling aspirations due to fear of societal judgment and the sexist setup of the field - but would continue to pursue her passion, fighting every hurdle that came her way.

Radhika’s story was that of a typical modern Indian girl. Fell in love in college - got married against parents’ wish - became a slave – harassed by husband and in laws – blinded in love - discovers she is being cheated upon - divorce. She was now depressed, with her confidence and self-esteem shattered. Realizing that her “love” held little value in the eyes of her man was itself a huge blow for her. And her parents were rubbing salt to her wounds, by repeatedly pointing out her “mistake” of not obeying them. She had no other source of emotional comfort now, except her friends. Her husband had made several attempts to cajole her (as he wanted a maid for his family), but Radhika had toughened herself up and didn’t heed his pleas. Her friends were helping her in healing her wounds, even as she continued to work at the call center to financially support herself. 

Virmati let out a deep breath as she sat pondering over the lives of her friends. She took a sip of her hot coffee, as she sat waiting for her friends.

Monday, 16 March 2020

A Letter to Dad ...



Dear Dad,

Haaaaiiiii

*hugs*

HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!!

*tight hugs*

*sniffs*


I think I need not tell you about how I'm doing …

After all …
 It's all your guidance and blessings …


But Papa …
I have no words to express how much I miss you …

Your words …
Encouragement …
Appreciation …
Guidance …
JUST YOUR PRESENCE !!!


I was numb with shock and traumatized for a long time after your abrupt departure …
But I have now managed to bounce back …


I am happy and proud to tell you that all the seeds you had sown are bearing fruit, Papa.

I feel like I'm finally being true to myself and becoming the best version of myself …
Just like you had always wanted to see me …

I have learnt to talk, communicate, socialize, be independent (to an extent) , take decisions, etc …


Papa, I remember how you had subtly adviced me to take up Arts and Literature as my field of study … back when I was in Class 10 and was overenthusiastic about taking Science ...
Your advice made sense … though I realised it a bit too late …


Papa … I'm now doing my Masters …
And let me tell you how much I miss you …
Even now … the void left behind by your departure has not healed one bit …
It's still the same as it was around 6/7 years ago …


I miss you when I write an assignment …
I miss you whene I do a presentation …
No amount of marks or compliments can equal your approval and appreciation …
I remember … how I used to do a mock Presentation at home in front of you when I was in school …


All my write - ups , poems …
I feel it's waste to write anything now …
When you are no longer around to read and review …
I remember … your  detailed talks and constructive criticism …

All appreciation and accomplishments amount to nothing due to your absence ...

All my milestones and success in life lack luster ... As you are no longer around to celebrate them ...

.

.

.

Ok Papa …
I don't have the heart or energy to put down all my feelings into words anymore …

I will stop here …

Hope you are happy and proud at my progress and  transformation …


Always wanting and waiting for your guidance and blessings …


Love you ,

Your Munna




Monday, 24 February 2020

Film Text Analysis : "The day India Burned - Partition" (A BBC Documentary)


Indian Writings in English – II
Assignment 1


The Day India Burned - Partition (A BBC Documentary) 

Film Text Analysis



Page 1

     The Partition of the Indian subcontinent into India and Pakistan can be said to be one of
the darkest moments in the history of humankind. The joy of gaining independence from the
colonial masters, the British, was heavily overpowered by the heart wrenching brutality of the
Partition. Pain, suffering, separation, uprooting of people, mass exodus, refugee camps,
murders, rapes, violence, hunger...the horrors of the Partition took up innumerable forms. These
wounds continue to bleed till today, as the traumas are ingrained in the minds of the families of
people who were affected by the Partition.


     The Partition of the subcontinent into India and Pakistan garnered attention worldwide. The
division of a diverse and culturally rich country like India on the basis of religion was indeed
something unthinkable. The British were peculiarly interested in it. Though they were the one
to have sown the seeds of the Partition, they artfully separated themselves from it and shrugged
of any blame or responsibility coming their way. Even 60 years down the line, the attitude of
the British remains unchanged, as is evident from the BBC documentary, Partition: The Day
India Burned.


     This BBC documentary was made for the 60th anniversary of that event in 2007. It gives an
overview of the political events that led up to that disaster. Blended into the film are eye-
witness accounts of people who had lived through the Partition, historical footage of political
leaders and dramatized reconstructions of some of the events. The title of the documentary is
something of a misnomer, as India didn’t burn for a day – the period of time involved was
around a year, as the various communities tried to shift from their ancestral homes to areas with
similar communities; and the burning of homes and villages was only a small part of the
violence.


     The documentary is introduced as being “about the effects of Britain's withdrawal from
India in 1947 which triggered one of the biggest migrations in history”. These words seem to
imply that the Indians were unable to take care of their country on their own, after the departure


Page 2


of the British. It’s trying to suggest that the inability of Indian to govern their country was the
reason of Partition, while in reality, the seeds of Partition were sown by the British themselves.
They systematically created hatred between the Hindus and Muslims during their rule, under
their Divide and Rule Policy. This was done in order to prevent them from uniting against the
British.


     The documentary pits the three major religions of India (Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs)
against each other and shoves the blame of the Partition entirely onto the shoulders of Indian
politicians and the general public. It kind of opines that the communal harmony among Indians
was superficial and the cause of the violence was the deep-rooted hatred and religious divide
among Indians. The role of the British in creating the communal unrest is nowhere discussed.
Also, the hand of Lord Mountbatten in this disaster is wiped clean, while in reality, his hands
were the one which drew the Partition lines and sparked off the unrest among people.


     “India was once the jewel in the British Empire's crown. But when it came to pulling out of
the country in August 1947, things turned into shambles.” - This introductory sentence kind of
sums up the colonisers’ perspective about the Partition. India is referred to as having being “the
jewel in the empire’s crown for nearly 200 years”. This is a clear reflection of colonial
mentality. Its not a matter of pride for India to be referred to as the jewel of the British Crown.
To address it as such, even in today’s days, is an act of arrogance. Also, the British didn’t care
for India like a jewel. The very reason for things turning into shambles in India was the 200-
years long of plundering by the British.


     The documentary needs to be applauded for one reason though: that is, it brings across the
human tragedy of Partition so very well. It emphasises on eye-witness accounts of the suffering,
the bravery, the hatred and the helplessness felt during those days by people who were directly
involved in the events. The film does a good job in narrating the harrowing reality and
unimaginable violence and murder inflicted upon the 15 million trying to flee to their new
country. Mass violence resulted in long-time friends and neighbours killing each other because
they were the 'wrong' religion. Entire trains of people were slaughtered, schoolgirls raped and
women had their breasts cut off. 15 million were displaced from their own land and more than a
million lost their lives.


     The story is mostly told through the testimony of people who lived through the time of
Partition. These people talk about how they had lived together with people of other faiths for
centuries, but were forced out of their homes as one of the most ethnically diverse nations in the


Page 3


world was spliced into two. The film gathers an impressive number of contemporary
eyewitnesses to tell their sides of the tale, including Nehru’s niece, Mountbatten’s daughter,
and Gandhi disciple Ashoka Gupta. Dramatized reconstructions are used to evoke some of the
mistrust, violence and upheaval that ensued. Also, historical video footage and photographs are
effectively made use of at appropriate places.


     The 90- minutes long documentary talks about the following important events which led to
the Partition:

• British motivation for leaving India after World War 2 in a quick manner;

• the underlying distrust of Hindus and Muslims of each other despite centuries of living
together;

• Muslim educational and economic backwardness relative to Hindus and their fear of
Hindu domination in a united India;

• the failure of the March 1946 Cabinet Mission in Shimla on account of Nehru's refusal
to a agree to a decentralized Subcontinent,

• the beginning of the Hindu-Muslim communal riots with Jinnah's call for Direct Action
in Calcutta in August 1946;

• the desperate attempts made by Gandhi to effect Hindu-Muslim unity via appeal to their
humanity;

• and the pressure exerted on most Princely States to agree to ascension to India.


     The documentary strikingly describes the manipulation of people by political leaders in the
name of religion. It depicts the slaughter, looting, raping, and mayhem among different
communities at the village level; the deep reluctance of people to abandon their generational
homes; the brave attempts of certain individuals to save their neighbours of other communities
from forcible ethnic and religious cleansing; the horrific price paid by women for defending
their honour; the utter lack of governmental preparation for a mass migration of people; the
needless human massacre caused by Mountbatten's decision to speed up the pre-planned


Page 4


Partition; and the decline of previously culturally rich and cosmopolitan cities like Lahore due
to bloodshed and loss of communal diversity.


     Another admirable point of the film is that it makes one thing clear: no one religion was
guilty or nor was any one religion blameless. All the three major religions of India (Hindus,
Muslims and Sikhs) were at each other’s throat during the Partition. The Partition took part on
religious lines. Muslims were said to belong to Pakistan, while Hindus and Sikhs were to live in
India. Both of these sides were equally guilty for the violence unleashed during the Partition.
Both sides suffered severe casualties. Both sides were equally guilt and had equal share in
blame. It was not a case of an assailant group and a victim group. Both groups had both equal
proportions of both kinds of people. Victims were on both sides, so were assailants. This clears
the misconception of lying the entire of the violence on any one religion.


     Leaving behind the escapist and arrogant supremacist standpoint, the film is a pretty good
piece of work. Gathering together a number of survivors and eye-witnesses is no joke. Also, it
can be said that the film doesn’t reduce the gravity and intensity of the Partition one bit. It is
quite detailed and strikes the imagination of the viewers. It can be said that the film presents a
clear picture of the brutality which occurred due to the Partition.


     The Partition of India was of the greatest humanitarian tragedies in modern times. People
were unsuspectingly divided along communal and religious lines, and turned against each other
in a fury of violence. The tensions sparked off at that time dominate the region even today.
Every now and then, it explodes and it had led to one of the longest separatist wars in modern
history (Kashmir). All of this stem from the fateful decisions that were made at this time. This
documentary is highly recommended for anyone who wishes to understand why such things
happen, as it presents a part of the background story in a hauntingly effective manner.



Significance of Dalit Literature for Social Uniformity with reference to the novel "Chomana Dudi"

SIGNIFICANCE OF DALIT LITERATURE FOR SOCIAL UNIFORMITY

WITH REFERENCE TO THE NOVEL

CHOMANA DUDI

by Shivram Karanth (Kannada)

Image result for chomana dudi


- Kiranmayi M
R19MAE12
MA English, 2nd semester



Page 2



Untouchability: A Social Evil

The advent of 20th century brought many reforms to Indian society. The arrival of
English education let people to question their age-old beliefs and practices. One such
archaic practice put under scrutiny by the reformers was the inhuman custom of
untouchability.

              The caste system existed in Indian society right from the time of recorded history. It
was an integral part of the Hindu society. The system was not just strange and irrational,
it also gave rise to many coldblooded beliefs, superstitions and practices in society. One
such wretched offshoot of the caste system was the practice of untouchability.

              The traditions followed in the name of untouchability were all horrifyingly brutal and
inhumane. People who belonged to the so-called untouchable castes were treated little
worse than cattle. They had to live on the outskirts of the village, eat leftovers and eke
out a living by doing menial jobs for the so-called upper caste people. They were subject
to several restrictions. They had no right to live a decent and dignified life. Far from
living, it was considered blasphemy for them to even dream of living a good life!

              Many reformist writers took upon the task of presenting the disturbing realities of
untouchability through their plays and novels. Though untouchability pervaded all across
the country, the customs and traditions associated with it varied greatly with each region.
So, each writer brought forth new facets of the horrendous custom.


About the author

One such writer was K. Shivram Karanth from Karnataka. He was a multi-faceted
talent. Apart from being a writer, he was also a social thinker, reformist, dramatist, social
activist, filmmaker and several other figures package into one. In the literary front, there
is hardly any genre he has not worked upon. Be it a novel, short-story, drama, satire,
humour, travelogue and other forms, Karanth has shown his expertise in every kind of
literary expression. He was, in fact, compared to Rabindranath Tagore in this regard. His
contribution to the Kannada Literature is an all-time record, as he wrote, apart from his
forty-seven novels, thirty-one plays, four short story collections, six books of essays and
sketches, thirteen books on art, two volumes of poems, nine encyclopedias, and over one
hundred articles on various issues.

               Shivram Karanth is considered one of the most influential novelists in the Kannada
language. Most of his novels are widely read and have received critical acclaim. In the 47
novels which he penned, Shivaram Karanth has explore a plethora of themes. The themes
include social, political, spiritual, anthropological and other relative issues. One such
powerful and popular novel of Karanth is “Chomana Dudi”.



Page 3


The Novel

               Chomana Dudi revolves around the life of Choma, who is a bonded laborer from an
untouchable caste. The novel traces the life of Choma till his death – taking one through
his dreams and difficulties, trials and tribulations, humiliations and heartbreaks. It deals
with the series of injustices heaped on Choma, the resultant pain and anguish leading him
to the inevitable tragic end- all this because he belonged to a down trodden community.
The novel artfully brings out the multi-faceted nature of untouchability and its
consequences through Choma and his family.

                The story has a central theme of untouchability. While doing so, it covers the entire
scope of oppressive and exploitative practices which result out of untouchability. It
shows how the concept of untouchability has both immediate and far-fetching effects on
the lives of people.

Background and Setting

                The time setting of the novel is the early part of the 20th century.

                The place setting of the novel is a fictional village called Bhogana Halli in Dakshina
Kannada district or South Canara. In the preface of his book, the author gives details of
the treatment meted out to untouchables in this region. He says that, “In South Canara,
the slaves were treated as untouchables. They had to erect huts at a distance from all
other inhabitation and were not allowed to approach the houses or person without certain
prescribed distances. The holeyas (so-called untouchable castes) of the district were
divided in to various sub-castes such as Mera, Byra, Ajila, Mari, Mundala and others.

The treatment meted out to them also varied as per the practice prevailing from region to
region.

                Only Mera holeyas were allowed to undertake cultivational activity. But the society
did not allow the Mari holeyas, treated as the ‘lowest of the low’ caste, that opportunity.
There are people who say even their shades are to be avoided. They had to survive by
eating the left- overs, or the dead cattle, or undertaking despicable menial jobs. In the
northern parts of our district, they are not called for daily labor even to this day. In the
southern parts, they are however called for daily labor.

Page 4

                This description makes it clear that the practice of untouchability is a web of
complexities. It is not simple or uniform. It varies greatly all through the country, from
state to state, district to district, region to region. Furthermore, there are a number of
divisions or sub-castes within the so-called lower/untouchable castes. So, Dalit
Literature plays a significant role in bringing out and highlighting all the subtle
complexities of the untouchability issue.

Choma: A Bonded Labor


                The protagonist of the novel is Choma, who is a holeya belonging to the Mera sub-
caste in the South Canara district. He is a bonded labour serving the house hold of
Sankappayya, a land lord of the village named Bhogana Halli. The bondage has run
through several generations. Choma’s forefathers in the past, Choma now, and his
children in the future were, is, and are going to be tradition bound to serve the lineage of
Sankappayya. The bondage was unbreakable as the former cannot desert their lord /
Master and the latter is obligated to keep them under his tutelage.


                This indicates that untouchability had given rise to another social evil i.e., bonded
labour. This was another inhumane practice, wherein generation after generation of one
family (from the so-called untouchable castes) was “bonded” to be slaves of one family
from so-called upper castes. This practice was hindered the hope of a better life for the
slaves and constrained them from even thinking or dreaming of a better life! Thus, Dalit
Literature plays an important role in bringing to light the social issues which have
branched out from the root cause i.e., untouchability.


                The service offered by the bonded labourers were mostly is manual and menial labour
and is usually compensated with meagre allowances. In the novel, the payment of Choma
for his service is with 2 quarter seers of rice and 5 quarter seers of paddy a day. This is
too little to maintain a family of six, and therefore, the life of Choma and his family
members is characterized by abject poverty, hunger and misery.


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Choma: His Dreams and Difficulties

                Despite his poverty, Choma spends most of his earnings on toddy and tobacco. These
are his vices, which he simply couldn’t get rid of. He squandered all of his money on
these two, leaving little to no money to take care of his household.

                Due to his vices, Choma is pushed to take loans from his master. As he would never
repay his loans on time, his family is caught in an acute cycle of debts and interest.

                Another important passion of Choma was beating ‘dudi’ - a small hand drum beaten
with bamboo sticks. Choma compulsively involves himself on beating the dudi,
whenever he felt happy, sad, furious or miserable. or happy and elated. Beating dudi
was like giving his feelings an outlet vent.

                Choma had one major dream in his life i.e. to become a farmer. Tilling a strip of land,
even a small one, was his dream. But it was unattainable as the customs and traditions
prohibited a holeya becoming a farmer. His keen requests for a small strip of land were
repeatedly rejected by his landlord, much to the despair of Choma. Moreover, the mother
of the landlord curses Choma for ‘having the audacity to even think of tilling land’!

                Choma would have got a piece of land from the government, but the, where would he
get seeds from? How would he sustain himself till his crops grew? His landlord had made
it clear that his daily wages would be stopped the day he dared to till a piece of land for
himself.

                Conversion to Christianity is also an option open for Choma, but he is too proud of his
faith to leave it. Missionaries try to lure him with promises of land and money. But even
though he is ill-treated because of his faith, Choma refuses to abandon it and embrace a
new faith. He accepts everything thrown his way as his fate and God’s Will. This shows
the amount of indoctrination of blind beliefs and superstitions.

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                So, the untouchables had not even the right to dream and have ambitions. They had no
right to cherish hopes and desires within their heart, because tradition would ensure that
they would remain unfulfilled. Also, they dare not think of rebelling against society or
religion as everything that happens is due to their fate and God’s Will.

                Choma’s life ends in misery as he loses all his children. On his last day, he shuts himself
in his home, drinks heavily and beats his drum till his last breath.


Choma’s Family


                Choma’s family consists of six members – himself, his 4 sons and a daughter.

• Two of his elder sons work in a distant coffee estate trying to pay off their family
debt. One of them dies of cholera and the other one converts to Christianity by
marrying a Christian girl.

• His daughter, Belli works in the plantation and falls for the charm of Manvela, the
estate-owner's contractor. She is raped by him and the estate owner, who then
writes off Choma's debt. She returns home and tells everything to Choma. Choma
later finds his daughter in a compromising position with Manvela in their home.
With anger, he beats her and kicks her out of the house.

• His youngest son drowns in a river, with nobody coming to save him because of
him being an untouchable.

So, it is clearly seen how untouchability affects the lives of people in such diverse ways
that it tears Choma’s family apart.

Lack of food, hygiene and basic health facilities leads to the death of one son
from cholera.


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Lack of basic human rights and dignity in his own faith leads another son to
convert to Christianity. He is lured to the new religion as it promises him a life of
dignity and civic liberties in his new faith.

Being underprivileged in society leads to the exploitation of Choma’s daughter,
Belli. She is sexually exploited, and then lured away by manipulative men with
promises of writing off her family debts. Men of power demand sexual favors
from her in return to writing off her family’s debt; taking advantage of her social
and economic backwardness. This is a case of caste, class and gender abuse.

• Finally, the last son of Choma is left to die by onlookers due to his caste. People see him drowning, but on one comes forward to help him, because he is an
untouchable. The insensitivity of people can be realized in this case. People are so
clouded by their rigid beliefs and superstitions that they turn a blind eye to a
fellow human being in trouble. The cries of the young boy fall on deaf ears, only
because of his caste.

All these cases show how untouchability leads to various forms of abuse and neglect.

Literature as a step towards Social Uniformity

                 Summing up, it can be said that Chomana Dudi is an excellent example of how Dalit
Literature can lead to social uniformity. The novel throws light on the denial of basic
human essentials and dignity to people like Choma and highlights the immorality of
society. It is able to tear up the eyes of the readers and tear open their hearts towards the
suffering of the downtrodden. The author’s purpose to create an awareness among the
public as regards to the evils of untouchability has found adequate success through this
novel. So, it can be said that novels like these can prove to be invaluable in spreading
awareness and sensitize the public towards the suffering of the so-called lower castes.
This would lead to concern, mindfulness and social uniformity in the long run.