Introduction
In the foreword of the work “Legends Speak: Bengali Women’s Narratives in Translation, Avenel press)” professor and former Dean, Faculty of Arts, Calcutta University, Dr. Sanjukta Dasgupta says: “The reputed translators, Chaitali Sengupta, Lopamudra Banerjee, and Amita Ray’s focussed endeavour in representing Bengali women’s creative fiction, spanning a wide trajectory, from the colonial period to the post-colonial period, and thereafter the era of globalization, are undoubtedly commendable. The translators have selected novellas written by Swarnakumari Devi Ghoshal (1855-1932), Ashapurna Devi (1909-1995), and Suchitra Bhattacharya (1950-2015).”
She further says, “Bengali fictional narratives have reiterated the inexorable marginalization of the second sex, addressing the abjectness of women of all classes, their lack of identity and independence, and the uninhibited exploitation and oppression of women in a patriarchal social system. Women writers have sensitively represented the nuanced inter-personal relationships that interrogate the binaries of power and disempowerment that are inherent in the masculine and feminine cultural constructions.”
Swarnakumari Devi, as we know her to be the elder sister of our Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore, was one of the pioneers of the women movement in Bengal. She is also said to be one of the first prominent women writers of Bengali literature. About Swarnakumari’s contribution to Bengali literature and culture, famous Tagore critic Chita Deb wrote: “Except for Rabindranath no one else in Tagore’s family had written as much... Yet Swarnakumari has not yet been given her rightful place in the Bengali literary tradition. And yet with Bankimchandra at one end and Rabindranath at the other, we can refer to Swarnakumari as the bridge between the two.” [Thakurbarir Andarmahal, Kolkata, Ananda Publishers, page 32]
In Dr. Dasgupta’s words: “Experienced translator Chaitali Sengupta’s subject of translation, Swarnakumari’s novel Chinna Mukul (The uprooted blossom), was published in the year 1879. It is written against the backdrop of the nineteenth century. The protagonist in the story is a young woman called Kanak. It is the story of her failed love for Hirankumar, a deputy magistrate in Alipore court. Through her tribulations, the novel depicts how women were not given the freedom to spend their lives as they chose and helps us to understand patriarchal domination. Historically, Chinna Mukul (The uprooted blossom) may be regarded as the first nebulous evidence of a feminist voice interrogating gender inequality. This is, of course, done in a covert manner, noticeably different from Bengali women’s writing of the post-independence period.” (Foreword, Legends Speak)
An excerpt from Swarnakumari Devi’s novella Chinna Mukul (The uprooted blossom)
THE GROWTH OF THE SAPLING
In the morning hour of dawn, sailing through the gentle breeze, a beautiful boat graced the waters of the Ganges. In one of the two rooms on that boat, a sick woman lay on the bed. On her sides, two young men waited on chairs, and near her feet, a maid sat. One of the young men asked the other one, “How is she today? Do you think she’ll survive?”
The physician replied, “Better than the previous days, but I can’t say for sure before another two or three days.”
Days flew by. The young man stayed close by the woman. Now and then, he’d feel her pulse, check her body temperature, and continued to irritate the physician with his queries on her state of health. The physician’s assurance did not convince him at all. He kept on staring dejectedly at her half-closed eyes, almost like lotus and derive pleasure.
At the close of three or four days, the pain seemed to subside and after a couple of days, the woman regained her consciousness. Finding herself amidst the young men surprised her, but slowly thoughts returned to her. Kanak remembered the night Sushila passed away and how she had drowned in the river. Although she could hardly recall anything else, she understood that these two men must have saved her. Shewondered who they were and what made them save her? Deathcould have solved all her problems. Why did these two people save her?
These thoughts made her look up to her savior, and as their eyes locked, Kanak looked away in subdued shyness. Her pale cheeks suddenly brightened up, filling with color. The young man asked in a quiet voice, “How are you feeling today?”
The physician cautioned him. “You must not ask her anything now, she’s rather weak.” But the young man’s curious query made Kanak look up to him, her eyes locking with his in surprise, as she stared at his handsome face. Other than Sushila, nobody else had shown any curiosity towards her. A stranger would be eager to know her well-being, the very thought mesmerized her.
Within a month, she was in the pink of her health, making the doctor’s presence rather irrelevant. When the doctor left, the young man decided to take Kanak back to her own people, in Allahabad. In this past one month, Kanak developed a close friendship with the young gentleman. She bared her heart out to him, sharing minute details of her life with him.
“How old were you when your father passed away?” he asked one day, sitting next to the bed where she lay. “Do you still recall those days?”
“Well, yes, I have some remembrances of those forgotten days. I guess I was around four or five years then.”
“It’s rather strange that you can recall moments from such young days.”
“I didn’t spend my days being pampered by my parents, like others. Had it been so, perhaps I would not have remembered them.”
It pained the man. “I’m so sorry to know that. Did no one ever treat you with love and affection, Kanak?”
“I would have remembered, if they had.”
Her words moistened his eyes. In his mind, he said, “As long as my heart beats, I shall pamper you with the love of a thousand parents.” The tears pooling in his eyes amazed Kanak. She had found no one who would empathize with her.
In utter awe, she began noticing him. A little of her scepticism became perhaps apparent to him, and her quiet incredulity again, rubbed his heart raw. And as Kanak observed that painful expression on his kind, adoring face, trust thrived in her heart, and she let her heartbeat only for him. He earned not only her trust but also her love at that moment. As she was always bereft of love, she took little time to entrust her heart to the one who promised selfless love to her.
In an anxious voice, wiping his eyes, he then asked, “Wasn’t there anyone, Kanak, who showed some affection, some tenderness to you, in your childhood days?”
“Not that I can remember. There was once a boy who was rather kind to me. I still remember that incident.”
“What kind of kindness, Kanak?” he asked.
“He stood up for me, talked on my behalf. Nobody did that for me ever. And that is why I still remember the day. Right after that, we came to Allahabad with my maternal aunt, and she truly cared for me. But I could hardly forget the kindness that boy showed me.”
And then, she shared with him the story of the day from her childhood, when a young boy stopped Pramod from hitting her. A small, insignificant moment of gentleness that left deep imprints in her heart like the sweetest of song. It surprised him.
Without further comment, he just said, “I’ve written to your brother that you’re alive and well. Do you know that? I’m sure he’d be overjoyed to get this news.”
With a deep sigh, she only said, “I hope so!”
“Why do you doubt that Kanak?” Her face took on withered look as he snubbed her with gentle words. “You shall go home, meet with your loving brother, wouldn’t that be nice? Wouldyou not rejoice at seeing him again?”
Slowly, she said, “Yeah, indeed I would.”
“And once you’re back with your brother, immersed in his affection, would you ever remember this unknown stranger?”
Her face expressionless, she stared at him in silence. She noticed how his eyes turned moist as he asked and how to hide the tears in his eyes, he went out of the room, and stood on the verandah of the boat.
Chaitali Sengupta is a published writer, translator, Dutch language teacher and reviewer. Her Debut collection of prose poems CROSS STITCHED WORDS won the Honorary mention award at the New England Book Festival 2021. Her recent work of translation is titled TIMELESS TALES IN TRANSLATION, a collection of 12 short stories by famous Hindi and Bengali authors. She has contributed to esteemed anthologies and print/e-journals. Presently, she is working on a translation work featuring the Dutch author, Louis Couperus.