The bullies from Kozhikode haven't just stopped Kerala scholar Dr MM Basheer from publishing an essay on the Ramayana. The Hanuman Sena's actions threaten to murder an important tradition of Malayalam literature and art – An attempt to empathize with characters and stories closest to us.
From Kumaran Asan's Chinthavishtayaya Sita to Kuttykrishna Marar's Bharata Paryadanam to CN Sreekantan Nair's Kanchana Sita, the Malayalee has never shied from trying to explore how our oldest stories shape our modern lives.
If Basheer's critics want to understand how, all they need to do is look at a book of essays that won its author a Kerala Sahitya Academy award more than 40 years ago.
In 1972, Lalithambika Antharjanam became the first Malayalam writer to publish a book that re-examines perspectives on women from the epics.
In Sita Muthal Satyavati Vare (From Sita to Satyavati), a reading of 13 characters from the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, she speaks about her initial reluctance to write about the epics despite her deep familiarity with the dramatis personae.
She recounts how in 1967 an Aakashavani employee called her up to ask if she would consider writing a script on Gandhari for a show.
Antharjanam's answer was an instant No. She was caring for her granddaughters then and it didn't feel right to mull over Gandhari's gloominess. She also didn't have any reference book handy.
But that night, as she struggled to sleep, various images began to haunt her. "The unfortunate mother, Gandhari, appeared in my mind out of nowhere. The black blindfold around her eyes. A bowed head. Rigid, sealed lips. The heart that roared like a thousand seas… The mother of the Kauravas? I jumped out of bed and began writing. What remained shapeless in my mind after years of reading the epics took on a form. I had made no preparations. I just wrote. Finally, I scribbled down the speech that I'd read so many times and knew by rote – Gandhari's words to Bheema. I felt like I'd fulfilled an obligation, like I'd got a very uplifting darshan. My mind was cleansed."
The essay was broadcast on radio and was a hit with the listeners. More offers poured in.
The author began to write short pieces about women from the sidelines of the epics who she felt deserved a whole book to themselves – Amba and Kunthi and Draupadi. But when it came to the most important person, she was stuck.
"I revised and changed many essays on Sita, but I was never satisfied. Perhaps, only Valmiki could write of Sita. Maybe Valmiki wrote only for Sita. For six years, I tried hard to express the story of Sita on paper as it appeared in my mind. It was impossible. Finally, I gathered the better essays among everything I'd written on Sita, and passed on the burden of choosing to my 17-year-old granddaughter. The essay she accepted is the first in this book that introduces the old generation to the new," Antharjanam wrote in the preface to Sita Muthal Satyavati Vare.
So, why did this writer and activist think her book was important?
"The intense study of the epics reveals that the basic problems, experiences, and the forces that drive women – and the whole of humanity – remain the same through ages. Only the names of the problems differ. Sita and Savitri and Tara and Kunthi are within every woman. When you recognize them, you discover yourself."
Here, she echoes what Valmiki himself says to the twins Lav and Kush after teaching them the Ramayana: "This is a new poem. But not a new story. The Ramayana is the eternal history of the human race."
Basheer's 2015 essays for Mathurbhumi and Antharjanam's essays both draw from Valmiki's Ramayana as their source.
It is important to stress here that Basheer does not criticize the epic or any of its characters. Dhanya Rajendran's report on the controversy succinctly sums up the essence of Basheer's essays. He only directly quotes from Valmiki's text. So by gagging Basheer, is the Hanuman Sena telling us that Valmiki's Ramayana is not acceptable?
Other Malayalam poets and writers have re-imagined the story in works considered essential reading today. Even they haven't been spared the criticism over the ages.
Antharjanam takes on those who condemn 19th century Malayalam poet Kumaran Asan for giving Sita a rebellious voice in his classic poem, Chinthavishtayaya Sita (Sita, Lost in Thought). Asan infuses his Sita with the spirit of the renaissance – She questions the edicts that enslave a woman, and touches on the casteism that leads to the murder of Shambuka, a Shudra ascetic.
Antharjanam writes in a post-script to her essay on Sita: "Those who believe that Sita was a meek woman without any individuality haven't read the Ramayana. There are many who censure Asan for Sita's harsh thoughts on Ram in his poem. In reality, Sita's words (to Ram and Lakshman) are much harsher in the earlier parts of Valmiki's Ramayana...When Ram goes in search of the golden deer that she covets, her outburst against Lakshman is caustic. Her resistance to Ravana and her steely determination during the agnipareeksha reveal her steadfast nature. And what of the moment of truth in her final scene? It's her innocence and her self-respect in the face of all odds that makes Janaki an eternal symbol of femininity."
She urges us to keep in mind that social codes, conduct, and ideas of what is morally acceptable change with time. For instance, how did Ahalya, who was worshipped at par with Sita just a few generations ago in Kerala, turn into a one-dimensional symbol of an adulterous woman in the mid 20th century?
Antharjanam writes that in Valmiki's story, Ahalya is treated with empathy. She is cursed to a life of isolation and penance. She is not turned into stone literally, as most other versions describe, but rendered invisible.
"Valimiki was not a poet given to absolutes. There is no other poet who has described the conflicts, diversity, downfall, and redemption that mark human nature as truthfully as Valmiki has," she stresses.
Ahalya's story, in her view, is not about punishment, but about problems arising from a marriage between an incompatible couple and the dangers of giving in to a momentary impulse.
While Antharjanam considers the sources she knows best – Valmiki's Ramayana and Vyasa's Mahabharat – as the "correct" text, she is confident enough in her beliefs to dive into the stories she grew up with and see it afresh in the social context of her day.
Would she have been able to undertake such an exercise, steeped in Bhakti and empathy, today?
It is also strange that the Hanuman Sena claims its opposition is to a Muslim writing about the Ramayana.
The list of those who've written on the epic for the Mathrubhumi over the last two years includes some very non-Hindu names - Critics like Thomas Mathew and the late lyricist Yusuf Ali Kecheri, who has written one of the most popular songs on Rama, Janaki Jaane (Music by Naushad and sung by Yesudas - there you go, some more non-Hindu names).
In an interview with Sify.com, mythologist Devdutt Pattanaik had said that no other narrative captures the Indian mind as the Ramayana does. And yet, no other story is as difficult to write about. "All tales are essentially interpretations. As we read a text, our mind interprets it. When we retell it, the audience interprets it again. To assume there is a 'real' text is a delusion."
If the Hanuman Sena is falling in line with groups that want to impose one single version of the Ramayana on us, shouldn't they also tell us whose Ramayana is the "right" one? Like Antharjanam discovered, the stories and characters we grow up with live in the recesses of our mind and we don't need reference points to appreciate them.
What if you're equally drawn to Ezhuthachan's Adhyatma Ramayanam, Kamba Ramayanam and Valmiki's Ramayan because each has, in their own way, thrown light on some of the darkest phases or the most intimate relationships of your life?
How do you police or constrict the stories and songs you've absorbed? Who decides which parts of which version are acceptable?
The idea of trying to push one Ramayana for the whole of India is equal to saying that we should all speak one language.
You might force-feed me your movies and songs, you might change the signboards in my city, you might revise the syllabus at my school – But can you really separate me from the language I feel in?
If anyone can take on the Hanuman Sena in its own backyard, it's Mathrubhumi, the newspaper at the center of the controversy. The paper's reach (A million-plus readers) and its strong literary and nationalist tradition make it the best choice to nip this in the bud.
If a publishing giant can't convince one writer that it's safe to publish an essay, who can?
First published in sify.com in September 2015
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