DEEPASREE DEY
“And when my voice is silent in death, my song will
speak in your living heart."
The Noble laureate Rabindranath Tagore could truly
assess what impact his songs and his works would have on several generations.
Even after 79 years of his death, this artiste continues to inspire us with his
profound and outstanding masterpieces. It is said that the artist dies but art
lives on and every time I read any piece of writing by Rabindranath Tagore, I
am bound to believe this age old saying.
My first encounter with Tagore was in my infancy
when my mother used to sing his songs to me to put me to sleep. Afterwards, I
was admitted in a school which was an avid follower of Tagore and his works, I
was first introduced to him in school itself, at a tender of 4 and since then I
have been an ardent fan and admirer of this great man and his works. Although,
I haven't read any of Tagore's novels, I am in absolute awe and wonder of his
proficiency and mastery over the Bengali language and the lucidity in his short
stories! One of the most interesting characteristics of Tagore's writings is
his characterization of a female character. At a time when a woman's life was
confined to the four walls and wicker screen of the 'andarmahal', Tagore
portrayed his women as strong-willed and unflinching individuals who defiantly
resisted social and familial norms in a conservative Indian society. Tagore's women were progressive and provided
a fresh perspective to the minds already filled with traditional Indian values.
His short stories never fail to make to wonder that how it was possible to a
man to delve into the psyche of a woman and so effortlessly and accurately
portray the myriad emotions that a woman feels in the different stages of their
lives. What's fascinates me even more is that every time I read one of his
stories, I find a different angle to it! I discover something new, something
which I hadn't noticed before or was too young to understand.
The first short story (by Tagore) that I read was
'Atithi'. As a ten year old I couldn't understand much of the story. My mother
often teased me saying that I was as spoilt as 'Charushashi'. I used to get
really angry but I did see my reflection in her. Charu was the impulsive young
heroine of the story who was the only child of her parents and the sole
receiver of their love and care. She used to create a huge mess if her hair
wasn't tied properly and then burst into tears. However, when in a good mood,
she would pull her mother in her arms and plant several kisses on her cheeks.
As a 10 year old, I felt the emotions that she felt, I understood the jealousy
that she felt when her parents gave more love and attention to 'Tarapada'. But
as a 12 year old I began to understand the insecurities that she had. As a 13
year old, I had butterflies in my stomach as I understood the strange
attraction that she secretly felt towards Tarapada, how possessive she got
whenever her widowed friend 'Shonamoni' was around him, how her pride was hurt
when Tarapada went to meet shonamoni's aunt despite her warning, and why she
broke his flute in a huff and then was filled with guilt and remorse. I was
amazed at the accuracy with which he had expressed that a young girl in love
feels.
As a 12 year old, I couldn't understand why 'Ratan'
ran away crying when the "postmaster' wanted to give her the maximum
portion of his income before leaving. But as a 16 year old, I understood that
Ratan did not serve her 'dadababu' with all her heart for any monetary gain.
Her love, care and dedication could not be measures in terms of money! She did
not want to place anyone else in the position which her 'dadababu' occupied in
her little heart. He wasn't 'just another postmaster' for her but for her
'dadababu' she was just a little orphaned girl who used to do his household
chores.
As a 12 year old, I appreciated the sweet bond that
the 'Kabuliwala' and his 'khoonki' Mini shared. I was sad when she couldn't
recognise him after he returned from jail. However, as a 16 year old, I felt an
ache in my heart when I realised that the five year old, free spirited, lively
young girl had been suppressed under the traditions and customs of the orthodox
society. She ought to learn and follow the proper etiquettes of being a 'noble
lady' by replacing her male friends with female companions, not wandering too
much even in her father's studio. She was no longer the jovial young girl who
would laugh when the kabuliwala said that he will hit the 'in-laws'. She was
the would-be bride, veiled in the 'laal cheli' and a shield of shyness, ready
to spend the rest of her life confined in the four walls of her in-law's house.
As a 12 year old, 'Khudhito Pashaan' was like a
mysterious and fantasizing fairytale for me. But as a 17 year old, I could
understand the grotesque nature of slave trade and the pain and anguish that
the 'kritadasis' had to go through who were caged in the castles forever, with
the purpose of being a pleasure toy, who would be exploited over and over again
to satisfy the sultan's lust till he was done with her youthful body.
As a 12 year old, it made me cry to think how people
can be so cruel to a newly wed bride just because they hadn't received the
appropriate dowry. I believed that Nirupama deserved a better life. As an 18
year old, I understand that a woman is not considered to be a human being but a
possession of a man just like his house or land. The treatment she receives in
her in-law's house depends on the beauty of her body and the money paid to
bridegroom and his family to 'marry'.
As a 14 year old, I was glad that doctor
'Shashishekhar' was killed. I was furious at him for playing with a girl's
heart and then deceiving her by deciding to marry someone else! But as a 18
year old, I understand that it was not the rejection but the disregard and
indifference that hurt her. Even before she could properly understand the
meaning of life, she had been married and before she could realize what
marriage was, she had been widowed within two months of marriage. Like any
other young woman of her age, she had her little dreams and fantasies. When the
doctor touched her hand to check her pulse she felt as if her dreams had taken
a practical shape. One man occupied her entire heart and her imagination. Every
evening when she had the chance to come out of the stiff shell of her widow's
attire, she wore a basanti saree and saw her reflection in a mirror while
imaging what would he think of her. And he too had shown his interest in her.
Perhaps it was lust or just an infatuation or maybe it was a social obligation
that prevented him from marrying a widow but why did he have to hide the truth?
That was why she was hurt. Did she not deserve to know the truth? Was she so
insignificant? She gave that coward his appropriate punishment but she one
could any longer see the soft yet victorious smile of her. She was just a
'konkal', a skeleton who was being used by students to learn about the human
bone structure.
There is one story however, which had the same
effect on me as a 15 year old which it has now, as a 19 year old. 'Streer
Patra'. I had clenched my fist in anger, suppressed a sob, the first time I had
read the text. Even today, the reaction is the same. For ages women have been
oppressed, tortured and abused in this patriarchal society and this story
vividly captures the agony and aspirations of women under a patriarchal milieu
that denies them dignity and intellectual space. It amazes me how a text
written more than 100 years ago is still relevant to this day! As said by
Mrinal, the protagonist of the story, 'intelligence' is but an 'affliction' for
a woman. She should not have a voice or thoughts of her own. Her sole purpose in
life is to get married, and spend her entire life in the domains of 'her house'
and take care of the 'family'.
"The
discriminatory treatment of women had existed, complacently in our society for
ages. Men must accept the responsibility for sustaining this discriminatory
practice of the past." Tagore tried to establish equality between the two
genders through his writings. He mostly portrayed women as the superior gender.
Tagore’s women were not submissive, helpless and marginalized creatures who
would have no voice of revolt – his deeply spiritual and philosophic
orientation gave his female protagonists an empowered awakening accompanied
with the ethic of care. Tagore had revolutionized women through the detailed
and skillful characterization. I cannot think of another writer who can do
justice to the characterization of a woman in the way Tagore has. His radical
ideas will continue to ignite the flame of feminist consciousness in our hearts
and souls.
Editor’s Note: Tagore has
inspired us and empowered us through his work. We continue to read his work
even today and he never fails us. His women characters have given us so much, a
sort of personal attachment with each.
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