“The rains are here at last “ said Grandmother.
‘Yes the weather forecast yesterday said there would be heavy rain for a few days’ I said setting aside all my books to look at the rain drops falling on the garden roses.
It had been a very hot summer. We knew it very well. Our well had run dry and we had to fetch water from far.
“Imagine what it would be like in the villages,” Grandmother had said then. Of course I and Gita knew what it was like. We had seen it in books and documentaries; the spectacle of parched lands, withering crops.
And now here was the rain returning after nearly a year falling with a distinct sound in the verandah.
The class picnic had been arranged for the day after and I certainly liked the idea of going to the river side.
‘I wish I could go with you’ said Gita suddenly. “We were taken to the Botanical Park. There is nothing interesting there.”
“We are going to have great fun. What a sight it will be to see the river in the fury of the monsoons”. I said playfully teasing my sister.
“Didi told me they trekked some distance to reach the river” said Gita recalling the experience of our neighbor. I told my friends that day at school about the trekking part. They all agreed it would be a great adventure.
The next day was spent in preparation for the picnic, packing my bag with the necessary items. Kamal, Ravi, Dheeru, Amit and Ramesh came to the playground in the evening. They were all eager about the next day’s picnic.
“How are we going to reach the river if it goes on raining?” said Amit. “Who wants to go to the river? We are going out of school. That’s it. We could be in the bus and have lots of fun” said Ravi. I was afraid we might miss seeing the river. And specially now when it would be surging ahead splendidly. “I just hope our teachers don’t get to boring us over there with the local geography” said Kamal. We all left for home planning to be early to school to get the back seats in the bus.
It rained torrentially that night. Gita could not stop from saying before going to bed “I hope you go on the trip. I want you to get back with snaps. But with this kind of rain it could be cancelled”.
I was unhappy and just managed to arrest my thoughts and sleep. When I woke up in the morning I rushed out to look at the sky. It was clean and blue like a canvas cleaned by a brush.
At school I could see Kamal, Ravi, Amit, Ramesh and all others who had already got here. There was clapping and roaring as the bus started.
We sang songs and played games. Some of them had opened their snack boxes and a generous helping was going around the bus.
After travelling for two hours we came to the spot where we had to alight and start walking.
“You can’t take this route. It is closed. The river has cut its banks here” said one villager.
We stopped. Having come so far we weren’t prepared to go back without seeing the river.
We all got prepared for the adventure of walking down the hill slope to reach the banks. We could hear the sound of swirling waters.
‘Walk carefully. Don’t plant your feet too heavily in the mud’ the teachers were shouting. The clay was thick and brown.
It was silent all around. Now and then there was a jangle of bells from a temple afar. The river made its mighty noise. The Sun was not out yet. It was cool and the rain drops on the leaves looked beautiful.
Now we were out of the Eucalyptus wood, and we could view the river from a distance.
All of us were having problems walking with our shoes on. ‘Walk like those villagers there’ shouted Vinay hoarsely pointing to a group of women who walked easily.
They were collecting the pieces of wood and log drifting by in the river. Ramesh planted his foot in the deep slush and slid. There was laughter all around. I and Kamal too slid just for the fun of it.
It forced the teachers to shout out, “All of you come and hold hands. We will make a chain and walk on”. All of us were excited as we could sight the river very near.
Now the river was before us moving majestically. It was a grand, beautiful sight; the pure white waters gushing ahead with great force. For the first few moments there was silence amongst us. We were all of us clearly awed. But quickly the silence broke up. We rushed to the water, touching it with our feet and collecting the water with our hands and throwing at each other. I could notice a group of boys from the village watching intently. And there was an old woman nearby. She was old enough to rest at home for her age. But who knows what brought her on. She was bent and was picking up the twigs and sticks thrown by the river against the rocks.
One of us almost irreverently asked her. “Yeh keya Nadi Hai?”
There was no answer for a while. Her eyes were prayerful with the respect of being near a creator, a life giver. She made an effort to speak and still not seeing us said ’Narmadamaa’.
It was the beginning of afternoon. Our teachers were calling us for lunch. Ramesh, Amit and Ravi were pulling me. I stood to look at the vanishing foot prints of the old woman. I felt it was another world I was looking at ; a world far apart from my romantic imagining.
The river threw its specks of foam at me. The rains that year were to last another three months.
Feb 2021
Anton Chekhov
People say he is the most read author after William Shakespeare. One reads a short story expecting a twist in the tale, a sudden change in the plot, an unexpected turn of events etc, as in O.Henry, Saki or Guy De Maupassant. Sometimes the short story is an exploration of character, a delineation of a person in detail and why such and such a person necessitates a study, a deeper introspection of his/her nature, for it throws light on some aspects of humanity as in Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Pushkin or Gogol. Chekhov however seems to represent a tone of general observation, a seemingly innocuous but incisive way of looking at things. He surveys humanity dispassionately, and observes their idiosyncrasies, peculiarities, foibles and preferences. Also it is an inherently Russian way of looking at things. He does not ridicule or scorn, nor does he present a picture of amusement, rather he presents the irony in the character or the situation. People are not made out to be great. Nor are they painted as villains with black motives in their life. They are simply people caught in the vortex of society but living to realize an inner compulsion of their life that keeps them going, as in ‘The lady with the Dog, The Bet, Vanya, etc. But Chekhov’s way of expression and his narrative which is shorn of adornment succeed in locating a poignant philosophical under text in his stories. The under text identifies the sadness and cruelty that is eating into the social fabric. Chekhov’s great triumph is being able to bring this world into his short stories. They do not describe Russian life, they are Russian life itself, pining for a receding old world and not yet in complete grasp of the emerging modern reality.
Many of Chekhov stories are an exploration of the situation, a particular episode in a person’s life. The sharp, sparse way in which Chekhov writes transforms such reflective pieces spoken through the characters towards highlighting the general fatigue and ennui that permeated Russian life during that period.
Feb 2021
Travel to know more about your self
I remember a book by G.K.Chesterton that I had read in fragments. I couldn’t complete it because of the untidiness of the book and the small typeset that strained my eyes. I was extremely impressed by the small bits that I read. Chesterton describes his travels on horseback across the English country side. He is the most carefree traveler who lets place and time take care of all his needs. He has no occupation, no avocation, no serious pursuits or pastimes. He just lazes around eating what fruits he can find on the wild trees or the scraps of food that his bag keeps fetching him. His pursuit is enjoyment; precisely enjoyment of his situation, of the solitude which is uninterrupted. His company is amusement; a pleasant attitude of geniality and individualism. He makes sure he has a good stock of tobacco. I liked his description of a night scene in the English countryside: of how he had to make his bed alongside the cicadas and the foxes. He has a clean English sky to look at and lies down cross legged on his mattress smoking the most delightful cigarette of his life. Chesterton reflects on life in general and of the advantages of such a life as he leads. He is alone and desires no company. He has got his horse to talk to and may be a few personal favorites (books).
It is an immensely romantic view of life but also an allusive commentary on why happiness or contentment stirs from living like that: without attachments or possessions. Chesterton’s life is unlike Huck’s. Huck Finn cannot tolerate any sign of civilization. It is all very boring and makes him terribly sick. Chesterton has learned to live amidst people and not let anyone interrupt him. Huck being a boy cannot be so sophisticated. He chooses to run away. But it is interesting to see that both of them yearn for the same thing; a freedom that comes without any strings. Huck wants to smoke his pipe which he most certainly cannot do in front of Widow Douglas. He wants to laze around and go hunting and eat his breakfast without any frills attached. Chesterton can delve deeper into the existentiality of his situation. Huck is Twain’s design to explore the humor of life and the sad nostalgia that grips every heart. However only few people can quench it and a vast multitude has to consign it to deferral. I found Chesterton’s style absolutely exhilarating. There was no nuance or complexity in it: just delectable, straight forward, individualistic prose. (Cannot remember the name of the book. It was almost in tatters and borrowed from the public library. The post is only to share an impression made by a beautiful literary work and by no means encourages the use of tobacco).
The aftermath of this was my attachment to travel writing. I started to read more about travels and the pioneers who had ventured to write about the world. Prof Adinarayana has written several works like Bhubramana kanksha, Gypsilu, Stree Yatrikulu and Paravastu Lokeshwar ,Silk ruotelo sahasa yatra, Chattisgarh lo scooter yatra in Telugu. All delightful works which take you with them. Two works I have been waiting to read are , “In Patagonia and Travels on a donkey.” Seven Years inTibet was an astonishing read.
More about travel works and tourists in the ensuing posts. British explorers in India, Mark Tully’s travels in India. Well so many of them, one could go on reading and discovering again the world that is all too familiar now. But why do people travel. To know about the world or know the self.
“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new lands but seeing with new eyes.” Marcel Proust
Feb 2021
This is going to be only about India and the victory at the Gabba. There are certain things in life which light up your mood, bring a smile to your face, give you a sense of joy which is not epicurean. One feels like living that moment for a long time, although it does not concern you directly; It is not about your personal fame or fortune. Yet it gives you something, adds more value to your life, enriches your experience as a follower, a spectator and eventually goes down into personal lore and collective folklore. Today Sport was a winner, Cricket was the winner and India’s young , resolute, resilient ( I feel cliché ridden already since these words fit them to the T) team made this happen.
They say Cricket is a great leveller like all Sport; The invincible Aussie fortress at the Gabba had to be stormed not just taken and India did it in style with several strategies on work at the same time; the elegance of Shubman Gill , the doughtiness of Pujara and the flamboyance of Risabh Pant. Earlier it was Washington Sundar, Shardul Thakur, Siraj and Natarajan who did it with the bat and ball. It was Young India on the march. Cricket is a team sport . Individual performances matter only if they can help the team. The four test match series between India and Australia which will go down in history as one of the greatest ever had this in abundance. I doubt if the Australian bowling attack which is currently the best in the world ( Pat Cummins is the world’s number 1 ranked bowler) had been met with such counter attacking play in recent times. Fourth innings chases have mostly been about crumbling and fall of wickets in heaps. But when you have a different story to tell you script your own plot. This generation of Indian cricketers are not afraid and will play to win. Two seasoned campaigners, Hanuma Vihari and Ashwin took India to a draw in Sydney. At the Gabba with the rain being away, they did it in style , in confidence and in joy. This will be remembered for a long time for what it means to Cricket loving Indian fans, to Cricket as a Sport, about the joy it can bring albeit you are battling several little nasty things around you. Big thanks to Ajinkya Rahane and team India.
Feb 2021
The Revenant is about one man’s (Glass) resolve to seek revenge.He is the Revenant,the man who has returned from the Dead. The Dead have no words to speak and the living speak falsehood.The Revenant are the bridge between these two worlds. They have to straddle both these worlds. They must ensure justice for the Dead and retribution for the living. Leonardo DiCaprio who plays the Revenant in the film has very few words to speak in the film.He is a being, shaped and led by the forces of Nature. When he is critically injured in a bear attack,he is left to the care of his
co-expeditioners,Fitzgerald and Jim along with his son of his native Indian wife of the Pawnee tribe.Fitzgerald , to cut the labor short and earn the reward for this guard, murders Glass’s son and abandons Glass in a grave convincing Jim that he is dead.
Fitz’s brutal murder of his son singes Glass’s heart and on the corpse of his son he says ” I’am with You Son “
The visual beauty of the film counteracts the struggle of this lone warrior, for whom it has no aesthetic importance. It is rather an obstacle to overcome to achieve the objective of his life, the retribution that the murderer has to be meted out. But revenge as he remarks at the end is God’s will. DiCaprio’s performance annihilates any presence of the self and echoes the Revenant. The minimal action sequences and the majestic beauty of the scenery seem to point out the stolidity of Nature.The hostility of the expeditioners is in sharp contrast to the imposing presence of Nature which is similar to one and all.The surreal, symbolic imagery and the imaginary conversations of Glass with his wife seem to represent the empathy that is lacking in others. When all across is murder, loot and plunder especially by the invaders, who is the real villain or savage? At one place addressing the French merchant the Pawnee chief says “You took everything”
Glass’s Pawnee wife says “When you look at the branches of a tree in a storm,you feel it is going to fall,but when you look at the trunk you know how strong it is” Her wisdom and love fill Glass with the strength he needs to recover.
Of all the films that I have watched , for the pictorial beauty, and magical direction this films belongs to the class of Dersu
uzala. Watch it for being transported to another realm temporarily.
Jan 2021
సెగు – మరియసె కొండె
అది 19 వ శతాబ్దం. మొదటిసారిగా తన ఖండాంతరాల ఆవల ఉద్భవించిన శక్తుల ధాటికి ఆఫ్రికా ఖండం ప్రభావితం చేయబడుతున్న శతాబ్దం. సాంప్రదాయ సంస్కృతి, జీవన శైలి, మతం, కుటుంబ నిర్మాణం లాంటి అన్ని వ్యవస్థలు ఈ ఆటుపోట్లలో చిక్కుకొని తీవ్ర సంక్షోభం ఎదుర్కొంటున్న సందర్భాన్ని రచయిత ఆవిష్కరిస్తారు. , తింబక్తు మాలి, సూడాన్ మధ్య ప్రాంతాల్లో ఒక భాగాన్ని సెగు అని పిలుచుకుంటారు. ఇక్కడ యొరోబా, బంబారా, ఆషాంతి తెగల మధ్య జరిగిన సంఘర్షణని ఈ నవలలో మనం చూడవచ్చు.
అలెక్స్ హేలీ, Roots, Chinua Achebe, Things fall apart లాంటి నవలలు ఆఫ్రికా జీవితాన్ని పాఠకులకు ఆవిష్కరించిన తీరు అద్భుతం. ముఖ్యంగా ఒక ఆధిపత్య ధోరణి, లేదా అహంకారంతో ‘ఆటవిక లేదా అనాగరిక’ అని చిత్రించబడిన సమాజంలోని ఔన్నత్యాన్ని, లాలిత్యాన్ని, సహ్రుదయతను ప్రపంచానికి తెలియజేసిన నవలలు అవి. ఈ నవలల స్థాయికి తగ్గని రీతిలో ‘సెగు’ని రచయిత్రి తీర్చిదిద్దారు .
మధ్య ప్రాచ్య దేశాల నుంచి, ఇస్లాం ఈ గిరిజన సమాజంలో అప్పుడే చొచ్చుకొని వస్తోంది. పూర్వికులను, మత పెద్దలను, తెగ నాయకులను పూజించే సంప్రదాయాలను తెగుడుతోంది. వారందరికంటే అల్లాను (ఈ జగత్తుకి ఒకడే దేవుడు) ఆయన్ను ప్రార్ధించమంటోంది. దేశిక పెద్ద కొడుకు టికోరో ఈ మతానికి ఆకర్షితుడు అవుతాడు. తన సమాజంలోని కట్టుబాట్లు ఇస్లాంలోని కఠిన నియమాలకు మధ్య వైరుద్యం అతనిలో పలు సంఘర్షణలకు దారి తీస్తుంది. వేటకు వెళ్ళిన సందర్భంలో దేశికా రెండో కొడుకు నబా బానిస వ్యాపారులకు చిక్కుతాడు. వారితో బాటు అతను దేశాలు దాటి బ్రెజిల్ చేరుకుంటాడు . అక్కడ క్రైస్తవం స్వీకరిస్తాడు . కానీ అపనమ్మకం, జాత్యహంకారంతో కూడిన యజమానుల క్రౌర్యంలో హింసించి చంపబడతాడు. దేశికకు ఉంపుడు గత్తె ద్వారా పుట్టిన సిగా, తోళ్ళ వ్యాపారంలోని మెళకువలు నేర్చుకొని తిరిగివచ్చి ఊరిలో వ్యాపారం పెడతాడు. మరొక కొడుకు మలోబాలి యోధుడిగా పోరాట బాటను ఎంచుకొని యుద్దాలలో తలపడతాడు. ఆషాంతి సామ్రాజ్యంలో మెరుపు దాడులతో అలజడి సృష్టిస్తాడు.
నవలలో అంతర్లీనంగా అనేక ప్రశ్నలను, సమస్యలను రచయిత్రి సృజిస్తారు . సామ్రాజ్యవాదం, జాత్యహంకారం, వివక్ష, బానిసవిధానం లాంటి ప్రశ్నలన్నీ నవలలో అంతర్భాగంగా ఉన్నాయి. ఆఫ్రికా సమాజం ఎదుర్కొంటున్న అనేక సమస్యలకు బాహ్య నాగరికతలు, మతాలే జవాబులు చూపిస్తాయా? చారిత్రక ఘట్టాల నేపథ్యంలో తుడిచిపెట్టుకుపోయిన ఆఫ్రికా గిరిజన ప్రవృత్తి, జీవనవిధానం బలహీనమైనదా? దీనిని అధిగమించి ఆక్రమించిన ప్రాచ్య సంస్కృతి మెరుగైనదా? గొప్ప సాహిత్యంలో పాఠకుల స్వీయ విశ్లేషణ కోసం నవలలో అంతర్భాగంగా, మౌలికమైన ప్రశ్నలను, రచయిత సృజించాల్సి ఉంటుంది. అలాంటి ప్రయత్నాన్ని మరియసె కొండె పతాక స్థాయిలో విస్తృత రీతిలో చేశారు.
యొరోబా, బంబారా జీవనశైలిలో సామూహిక జీవితం ఉంది. సంపదను అందరితో పంచుకొనే పద్ధతి ఉంది. ప్రకృతిని, చెట్లను ప్రేమించే తత్వం ఉంది. ఆడ, మగ మధ్య సమానత్వం ఉన్నది. సమున్నతమైన, పరిపుష్టమైన ఈ జీవన విధానాన్ని కేవలం ‘Might is Right‘ అనే ఆయుధంతో కకావికలం చేసిన సజీవచిత్రమే ‘సెగు’ దేశిక కుటుంబంలోని అనేక సంఘటనలు ఈ సంఘర్షణను కళ్ళకు కడతాయి.
సెగు, సమాజంలోని పరిస్థితులు, సంఘటనలు, వాస్తవికతకు సారుప్యంగా (Realistic) ఛిత్రీకరించడం రచయిత్రి అద్భుత విజయం. చరిత్ర, ఇతిహాసం లోకి మారే సంఘటనలను, చారిత్రక ఘట్టాలను వైవిద్యభరితంగా, పరిశోధనతో, కల్పనతో కలిపి సృష్టించిన కావ్యమే సెగు. దేశిక కుటుంబం లోని వ్యక్తులను, వారి జీవన గమనం ఆఫ్రికా ఖండంలో జరిగిన ఆటుపోట్లకు చిహ్నాలుగా మనం చూడవచ్చు.
Read this novel on the recommendation of Balaram from Analpa books picking it up in the Vijayawada book fair.A revelation for me: the sweeping canvas and the fascinating narrative.