Reviews, Vol I, Issue IV
Traditional history stockpiles bitter
memories of the past which slush hatred and create divisions. Literature has a
leading edge over traditional history as the creative powers of writers have
always invested on tales of love, compassion and friendship. Synchronically,
literature mirrors ‘human frailties’ and most of the times, these frailties are
routed towards regret and purgation. En masse, the canvas of literature never
presents a woebegone world, the one beyond repair. Amos Oz, the Jewish writer
underscores the import of literary “remedial insights” (Partitions, 83) into the past, to counter half-truths of hatred by
asserting exemplars of ‘great affinity and empathy.’
Going by the Nietzschean commandment,
shared in his seminal work, The Use and
Abuse of History: a rich blend of the unhistorical, the historical and the
super-historical, can serve as medicant to the “disease of history” (Nietzsche
43). Nietzsche defines the “disease of history,” as the tendency of those in
power to control history by suppressing the voices of the vanquished. The
unhistorical are the memory narratives laid in the stirrings of human heart,
and expressed in oral-histories, which owing to their amnesiac tendencies are
bound to be lost if not timely preserved. The historical is conventional
history; and the super historical which integrates in, the vast regimes of
literature and other allied arts has a sense of cultural vision.
The tour de force of the novel, Kitne Pakistan (2000), written by
Kamleshwar in Hindi and translated as Partitions
(2006) in English by Ameena Kazi Ansari, is to patron humanitarian concerns by
liquidating all the dissident and belligerent constraints of the world torn
asunder. The novel mourns over the
unnecessary divisions and myriad segments which continue to fissure mankind;
and the title of the novel is suggestive of the presence of such chasms and
cracks in the various cultures from the days of the Sumerian hero, Gilgamesh to
the latest demolition of Babri Masjid at Ayodhya, India. The perpetrators
guilty of wrecking injustice, oppression and dislocation are questioned and
cross-examined in the “people’s court” set up in the novel. Mughal Emperors
Babar and Aurangzeb, Spanish adventurer Hernando Cortez, Lord Mountbatten,
Adolf Hitler, and Saddam Hussein invite ‘contempt of court’ on charges of
creating countless fractured nations.
The unnamed narrator-protagonist of the
novel, called ‘adeeb’ which literally means a litterateur or poet, in the role
of an ‘arbiter for suffering humanity,’ sifts and scans through some first-hand
accounts of the victims of man’s brutality, from the killing fields of
Kurukshetra to Kargil and Hiroshima to Bosnia. Adeeb’s scholarly court as the
“court of humanity” is open to all victims of human tyranny unlike the other
courts endorsed by the “cowardly, paralysed legal system” (Partitions, 87).
Another likeable character of the novel,
the ‘ashruvaid’ is an old man who collects and analyses the tears of the
oppressed, destitute and those pushed untimely into the throes of death. Behind
his pursuit of studying man’s sufferings, lies his urge to efface pain and
destitution from the face of earth. Ashruvaid approaches adeeb’s court and
insists on collecting the litterateur’s tears and analyse them. He makes clear
his motives to adeeb: “We have to find a way of making life take precedence
over death. Your tears are needed to help achieve this end. Tears alone can
breathe life into mere existence” (17). During the period of colonialism, when
the colonial masters in order to access cheap labour, resorted to forcibly
transporting slaves from Africa and Asia, ‘ashruvaid’ starts collecting the perspiration
of the slaves and labourers. The plight of these ‘chained beings’ is brought
out in a detailed way in the novel.
And post-nuclear testing in Pokhran,
India, followed by the same at Chagai, Pakistan, the ‘ashruvaid’ engages
himself in yet another human cause of collecting “shattered fragments of
dreams” ( Partitions, 363) of
mankind. On a hopeful note, ‘ashruvaid’ salvages these dreams from dying eyes
and renders them to the living eyes, keeping alive his faith to see these
dreams being fulfilled. The novel illustrates the effect of “the toxic ashes of
the atomic testing” (366) on nature. Adeeb’s heart bleeds at the infliction
these atomic tests caused to the peacocks of Pokhran region, pushing them to
the limits of near extinction. He could visualize similar fate for the
honeybees in the palms of Chagai. One can assess from it the immense havoc the
nuclear weapons can unleash, if God forbid, they are targeted at the human lot:
Buddha
Purnima-11 May 1998. Three forty-five p.m. The arteries of the desert had burst
open. The ground had trembled. Nine hundred feet below the surface, in the womb
of Pokhran, three explosions had occurred. The wind had dropped as the
temperature shot up to ten lakh degrees, matching the heat of the sun. Below
the sands, hundreds of thousands of tons of rocky cliff had crumbled, melted
and turned into clouds of vapours. A mile- long stretch of sand had risen like
a gigantic mushroom cloud and lay suspended over the desert.
The
adeeb had suffered another heart attack. (Partitions
362)
In the novel, love comes as an antithesis to all the destructive
and divisive manoeuvrings of man, when lovers transcend the narrow confines of
religious identities, in their quest to find fulfilment beyond all boundaries.
The novel presents many tales of human love, which evolve during the times of
bloody massacres that ensued amidst the subcontinent’s Partition in 1947. But
unfortunately all of these promising relationships get consumed in the fury of
partition riots and other such meaningless conflicts. The first love story that
one comes across in the novel is that of Vidya and the litterateur ‘adeeb.’
Partition creates a distance between the two, abducted and raped by her
co-religionists during the partition; Vidya is rescued and escorted by a Muslim
family during the partition riots.
The author avers that, “sometimes women
were raped by members of their own religious community and given shelter by the
other religious community” (Bhalla, Partition
Dialogues, 215). This proclaims how the riots of partition created an
opportunity for men to commit sexual atrocities on women and cloak it under the
garb of religion. There in Pakistan, Vidya converts to Islam, is married to a
Muslim, Nadeem Khan and is baptised as Parveen Sultana, fondly called as
‘Pari.’ Her son ‘Pervez’ comes to India as a Pakistani diplomat; this is how
she happens to meet ‘adeeb’ again and for the last time towards the end of the
novel. But there is nothing they can do about their relationship at that stage
except to reminiscise their bygone days and be nostalgic about them.
Forlorn and soaked deeply in her
memories, the adeeb often weaves his own castle of dreams centered around her.
Her memories and dreams bring in some respite in the otherwise humdrum life of
the adeeb. These escapades of adeeb also entail the readers towards an
awareness of how human entrapments curtailed many relationships from
blossoming, leaving the lovers in the lurch of unrequitedness.
The novel hitches in yet another love
story of Buta Singh- an illiterate farmer and Zainab- a young Muslim girl. Love
evolves between the two during the times of bloody massacres that ensued amidst
the subcontinent’s partition in 1947. Pursued by a savage in the guise of man,
Zainab is sheltered by Buta Singh. Buta Singh earnestly relinquishes his
hard-earned savings in the kitty of Zainab’s pursuer and liberates her from his
clutches. A brief excerpt from the novel speaks volumes about Buta Singh’s
empathy and uprightness: “So what if the borders of Hindustan and Pakistan have
been demarcated? The honour of women cannot be apportioned to any particular
side because of the Hindu-Mussalman divide!” (Partitions 24).
The village elders advise Buta Singh to
marry her as living together outside marriage was not an acceptable social norm
at that time. With a mutual consent both get united in matrimony. This news
disturbs Buta Singh’s three elder brothers who were always keen on laying their
hands on Buta’s share of land. God showered his benediction on Buta and Zainab
and blessed them with a beautiful girl. The couple named her Tanvir Kaur. Adeeb
celebrates their love in glowing terms, and implores his assistant, Mahmood to
let him narrate this story with “all its nuances of searing beauty and pain” (Partitions 321). He fervently wishes to
immortalise this love story for centuries to come, by conferring on it the
“aesthetic form of an epic poem” (321). An excerpt from the text is presented
here in avowal of adeeb’s endeavour to narrate this passionate story in an
exuberant manner: “They alone had dared to eat the apple of love. But for such
events, love would never have flourished and the world’s gutters would have
been choked with the bubbling blood of lust and hatred” (320).
But this saga of love too turns out to
be one of sacrifice due to man’s cruelty. As per an agreement between the
governments of the twin nations-India and Pakistan, abducted and abandoned
women on either side of the border during the upheaval of partition are
retrieved by the various refugee camps before being handed over to the next of
their kiths-and-kins. On Buta Singh’s nephew’s information Zainab was handed
over to her people in Pakistan. To get her back Buta Singh converted to Islam
and became Jamil Ahmed and Tanvir Kaur becomes Sultana. They both illegally
enter Pakistan by crossing the border in Rajasthan. Despite all these
hardships, Zainab’s parents and Pakistani court refuses to permit Zainab to join
back her loving family. Heartbroken Buta commits suicide by jumping onto the
tracks with Sultana in his arms. Adeeb’s court mourns over this colossal loss
of hope with yet another tale of human love sacrificed at the altar of man-made
partitions.
Inspired from the Epic of Gilgamesh (circa 2100 BC), the novel’s guiding force and
talisman is the mythical love story of Runa- the beautiful devadasi and Enkidu-
a brutal beast with divine powers. Love fructifies between the two when,
Gilgamesh-the Sumerian hero of the Hittite civilization sets out on his mission
to not only overcome pain and privation, but also to vanquish death itself, in
his quest to create a better world for his people. This besets a pandemonium
amongst the divinities of the various pantheons.
The Sumerian and Babylonian gods and
deities are all frightened that if Gilgamesh triumphs over death, the pristine
environs of their abode may get polluted. So in compliance with Anu, the
Sumerian deity, they send Enkidu to earth in the guise of a human to
exterminate Gilgamesh and his plans. Luckily Gilgamesh learns about the
conspiracy of the gods. Familiar with the lustful ways of gods, Gilgamesh tries
to tackle the beast-man by enticing him with the feminine charm of Runa.
But to the utter dismay of Gilgamesh and
the gods, Enkidu and Runa get bridled in passionate love. Even after satisfying
his lust, Enkidu remains ever enrapt in Runa’s love. An excerpt from the text
articulates this: “More ancient than the history of the pyramids is the saga of
human love. It was born when Runa and Enkidu, having gratified their carnal
instincts, looked into each other’s eyes and discovered their souls” (28). Love
brings a change of heart in Enkidu, and after an initial bout with Gilgamesh,
the duo become the best of friends. The gods then send a fearsome bull down to
the earth to kill Gilgamesh. Enkidu gets seriously injured by the ferocious
beast, as he tries to save his friend Gilgamesh from its lethal attack. Despite
Gilgamesh and Runa’s best care and efforts, Enkidu succumbs to his injuries.
This is how world’s first love story meets its end due to the machinations of
none other than the gods, but not before blessing mankind with the discoveries
of love and friendship.
After the passage of many centuries,
Gilgamesh still struggles to come back with the antidote to cure death and
suffering and to scavenge all the earth’s venom of hatred. But Runa managed to
hide in her navel, King Gilgamesh’s eternal and fearless voice, well protected
from the reach of gods who were always on a lookout to suppress it. Runa
entrusts Gilgamesh’s voice to the care of ‘adeeb’ as she believed that “only a
man of knowledge and integrity can keep it alive for centuries to come” (Partitions, 34). Adeeb heartily accepts
Runa’s gifts of love, friendship, peace and prosperity on behalf of the entire
mankind and infuses Gilgamesh’s voice into his bloodstream.
The metaphoric significance of this
episode is to accentuate the role of litterateurs as ‘goodwill ambassadors of
humanity.’ The bond that made Runa and Enkidu remain in eternal love with each
other and discover spiritual solace is bequeathed to the sensibilities of man,
and lives there forever shielded from destruction and desecration, through the
innate human goodness, portrayed and promoted vis-a-vis the conduit of good
literature.
The novel concludes on an optimistic
annotation, a character of the novel, ‘blind Kabir’ like the fifteenth century
mystic poet Kabir, with an ektara in his hands, and a bag hung on his shoulder,
sets out on a journey of reconstruction. He plans to plant banyan saplings at
Pokhran and Chagai both. He is hopeful that “like Shiva, the roots of the banyan
can absorb all poisons” (Partitions, 367).
The symbol of “bodhi vriksh” is reminiscent of Lord Buddha, and it sends across a
message that we can escape ‘the turning wheel’ of life and death by considering
all forms of life as sacrosanct, and by triumphing over the vices of greed and
hatred.
The novel questions indiscreet human
acts of lapse as well as episodes of ‘fall from grace’ of divinities.
Kamleshwar, the novelist juxtaposes tales of love and friendship with
narratives of man’s barbarity and images of bloodletting and debauchery only to
let the readers surmise that love ushers in solace, growth and camaraderie
while acrimony amongst races and people breeds distrust, hatred and divisions.
Celebrating the literary pursuit of
‘free spiriting’ the world from the slavery of religion with
supplanters of love and empathy, nothing
sounds more apt to conclude than by taking a leaf from poet Keats’ love letter
to Fanny Brawne, penned down on 13 October 1819: “I have been astonished that
Men could die Martyrs for religion-I have shudder’d at it-I shudder no more- I
could be martyr’d for my religion-Love is my religion- I could die for that- I
could die for you.” Nonetheless, bards know it well not to limit this
revelation to their inner sanctums but to bring it on in the public domain and
make it Everyman’s principle of existence.
Works
Cited and Consulted
Bhalla, Alok. Partition Dialogues: Memories of a Lost Home. New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 2006.
Kamleshwar.Partitions. Trans. Ameena Kazi Ansari. New Delhi: Penguin Books, 2006.
Kamleshwar.Partitions. Trans. Ameena Kazi Ansari. New Delhi: Penguin Books, 2006.
Nietzsche, Friedrich. The Use and Abuse of History.
Trans.Adrian Collins. New York: Macmillan, 1957.
Hanson Marilee. “John
Keats: Selected Letters.” EnglishHistory.net.N.P.
2003.Web.05 July 2015.
Reviewed by Manjinder Kaur Wratch
She is working for her doctoral degree on Partition literature from University of Jammu. She has actively participated in various national and international conferences and has also contributed more than fifteen research papers for certain critical anthologies and reputed journals-national as well as international. Earlier she has served as Faculty English Language and Literature in many institutes of the country. For her M.Phil dissertation she worked on the translated in English works of the legendary Punjabi and Hindi author, Amrita Pritam.
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