DIDI
Author: Nirupama Devi (translated by Alo Shome)
Publisher: Rupa
Price: Rs 295
The early 20th Century in Bengal had its fair share of women writers. Nirupama Devi was one of them. She wrote novels and short stories and Didi, a novel, first published in 1915, is a captivating piece of work. The novel, translated into English by Alo Shome, is a treasure of a book. What an extraordinary piece of work – both the original and the translation! The very opening line, “It was a winter morning. The bare branches of frost damaged trees were soaking up the warmth of a blissfully sunny and cloudless day, somewhat rare for the season,” gets you hooked straightaway to read a story set in a conservative Bengali society, in which a young married man, due to no apparent fault of his other than his indecisiveness, brings home a younger bride.
In those times, the men left their villages to study in the city and in this case, Amarnath is studying medicine when his father fixes his marriage to Surama. She does not join him immediately. In the meantime, Amar is kind of compelled to marry an extremely beautiful young girl. He just cannot refuse her impoverished and dying mother’s wish that he take care of her daughter Charu for the rest of his life. In a moment of weakness for the child-woman, who really has nowhere to go, he marries her.
Amar stays away from his ancestral home and can hardly make both ends meet after marriage. His furious father calls him back, to take care of his large estate. To understand the story, we have to understand the Bengal of that time, when polygamy was accepted among Hindu men and divorce was yet to be legalised by the Hindu Marriages Act of 1955. Charu has no clue what is going on. She is guileless and takes an immense and instant liking for Surama as her didi, an elder sister.
Didi is clearly the story of Surama who then becomes the co-wife of Amar. She who was running the household extremely efficiently in his absence, with the help of the estate manager, is requested to continue doing so by her affectionate father-in-law. She is a strong woman and though she starts treating Charu with as much affection as she probably can, knowing it is not really the younger woman’s fault, it is a question of sublimating her own desires. But can Surama forgive the man who is her legally-wedded husband? This is the main pillar of the story that unfolds through a number of events and a certain coming of age for all three characters.
Marital decisions, especially for women, were taken collectively in a conservative society, which treated women as only procreators. That the widows were also treated abominably is touched upon. In a subplot, Surama has to break up a budding romance between her young widowed stepsister and a young man because it was simply not done, breaking both their hearts. The man is made to marry another but the woman has to lead a loveless life. The complexities of the heart are beautifully described and nothing gets lost in this beautiful translation that is such a pleasure to read. Savour this:
“The longings of her earlier, adolescent spirit, tortured by Amar’s ill-treatment, had long ago moved to a hiding place deep inside her inner self. Somebody was knocking at its door, unexpectedly, asking her to open it. That ‘somebody’ was Amar, who could have been her man but was not anymore. For, he was her dearest sister’s husband – entitled only to the kindness due to a brother-in-law… Charu had a right over Surama’s heart. For, was not she her younger sister? And Amar was now that younger sister’s husband. How can she ever fall for him?”
We can read this man as one who wants to have his cake and eat it too, but when Amar sincerely implores Surama to continue living in the same house, she decides to punish him by leaving, to stay with her father. This devastates Charu and angers her husband. What happens at the end is something that would probably make today’s women seethe, but we must understand the society of the times and the strong patriarchal constructs.
And what the novel showcases above all is human nature. It seems a man often acts impulsively in matters of the heart despite his capacity for rational thinking. Would a woman do the same if society was matriarchal? For even if motherhood is a societal construct, women are better nurturers; therefore, they are less rash in matters of the heart.
“She still wanted to lead the life of a single woman, going against even her own innermost impulses. A hidden struggle in her heart and mind was pulling her apart. But who cared? The world at large was already convinced of her final defeat. Born as a woman she was expected to act like one. How wretched was the paradigm of her birth!”
Nirupama Devi herself became a widow at 14 and came to live in her father’s house and ran it to perfection. Hers was a wealthy zamindari family, so one shudders to think of poorer homes accommodating young widows, which was quite common. It was Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay who first noticed Nirupama Devi’s talents as a writer, as they both lived in Bhagalpur. He mentored her initially, giving rise to gossip in the small town, but she managed to carve out an identity as a writer of repute, often writing in the kitchen. The women in her works are still stuck in the inner quarters or andarmahal as Sarat Chandra’s heroines also are.
The analysis of the then Bengal society and the gender questions apart, Didi, shortened according to the translator because of the publisher’s requirements, is to be simply enjoyed for its story of trapped human emotions. Alo Shome, a poet and translator, has done an excellent job in this modern and lucid translation.
(Review by Manjira Majumdar, a writer based in Kolkata.)
from Webdoux