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POST script
MARCH 04, 2012

SEVEN SISTERS

NELit review

FIFTH WALL
UDDIPANA GOSWAMI
Literary Editor

Growing feminine gaze: women writers of Northeast

While the many women writers in English from the region are bound by some common background, Mitra Phukan finds that their works reflect the uniqueness of their respective cultures
able fire burning in our hearts My love, what shall I do? I am thinking how I may lose you To war, and big issues More important than me. And they are talking about escape, About liberty, men and guns, Ah! The urgency for survival. But what will they do Not knowing the sorrow of women. Kinships and friendships are important components of these works. Easterine Kire Iralus A Naga Village Remembered, for example, as well as Bijoya Sawians Shadow Men are full of references to kin, to the ancient tribal ties that bind strongly even in todays world. Conflict forms the basis of these fictional worlds. This is perhaps inevitable in this region today. But the texture of the conflict is different with each author. Bijoya Sawian talks of the endemic violence in Meghalaya, though she links it to the practice of a corrupt kind of matriliny among the Khasis. Temsula Aos people are ordinary folks trying to live through the decades-long turmoil in Nagaland. Rukmini, the protagonist in The Collectors Wife is caught between the state and students as she witnesses the Students Agitation in Assam. Rashmi Narzary brings to the reader the wrenching results of the constant conflict in the Bodo areas of Assam. Poet Uddipana Goswami (We Called the River Red) maps her body as a conflict zone, relating the outer world to her innermost feelings through the delicate, easily-violated barriers of the body. Such writing is uniquely flavoured by the local traditions of literature, both oral and written. Assam, with its long practice of the written word, is giving birth to writers who write in English, who are influenced by this history. If Srimanta Sankardevs luminous bhakti outpourings, the works of people such as Birendra Kumar Bhattacharjee and Homen Borgohain influence the cadences of the English that they write in and even the subject matter of their work, then the writings of Mamang Dai are inevitably influenced by the accents of the legends of her land. The Englishes that are evident in their works, therefore, are as heterogeneous as the characters that people them, and are as different as the thoughts that go into their making. Women writers who work in English in this region are finding their voice, and their feet in the publishing world. It is heartening to find that second generation writers in English from this region are making their presence felt in the literary world. Often theirs is a diasporic view of the land they have left behind, and an immigrants view of the land in which they have settled. This gives their work an added edge. One such example is Jahnavi Baruas Rebirth, where the location alternates between Bangalore and Guwahati. T

No madwomen in the attic

T has been a while since Virginia Woolf had to exhort women writers to "kill the aesthetic ideal through which they themselves have been 'killed' into art": in other words, to challenge the good woman-bad woman, monster-angel dichotomy which characterises so much of the literature about and by women. Most women writers of the Northeast have been challenging patriarchal presumptions and literary stereotypes. They have been consciously or unconsciously trying to find a rightful place for themselves and their kind in the regions narratives as real subjects. Often, breaking the stereotype has involved challenging the legend of womens emancipation in the region the myth perpetuated by those who point towards the many matrilineal traditions here, or the engagement of women in commercial activities, or their vocal participation in political protests. Sure, their lot has been much better than that of their sisters in mainland India who were forced into purdah. But they do often question the loopholes in the traditional systems which uphold the superiority of their men in indirect ways, and often by proxy. There are many all-women marketplaces all over the Northeast, where one can see the woman as the family bread-earner, often the only one in the household. How many of them however, go back home after a grueling day at the market, selling their wares, to find their husbands drunk and children unfed? And if our women were indeed so politically empowered, why do we not find more of them representing us in legislative and parliamentary bodies? 8 March is International Womens Day. This issue of NELit review is therefore dedicated to the women writers of the Northeast. We review a novel that exposes womens empowerment in the Northeast as a myth while celebrating the courage of those who have challenged repressive traditions. Our Frontispiece takes a close look at the women who are writing the Northeast today and creating a niche for themselves in the publishing world. They are writing from their real, felt experiences while at the same time, drawing from their roots in the region. This is what gives their voices the power. This is the power that should also enable them to resist being typecast as the wild tribals or the drug abusers and easy lays. Aruni Kashyap in Other Words finds that this is how the women of the region are perceived on the mainland. Just as African women writers like Chimamanda Adichie are engaged in countering their black image, our women writers should also be able to break free. There should be no madwomen in our attics, locked away and monsterised. T

FRONTIS PIECE

HERE is the view that there is no such category as womens writing. True, goes this argument, writers can be male or female, but writing can only be good or bad. A work stands on its own merit, not on the gender of its writer. But the fact remains: gender colours perspective. Just as the full flavour of a work can only be had with some knowledge of the social context in which a writer is placed, so too, is knowledge of a writers gender required to get an idea of where s/he is coming from. The life experiences of a man at the top of the caste pyramid, for instance, and a woman at the bottom are so different that they can be inhabiting different continents, different centuries, even if they live in the same village at the same point of time. Gender shapes the mind, just as milieu does. And awareness of the environment of the writer and his/her gender certainly makes for a more enriching experience for the serious reader. There is also the point of view that the term Northeast as applied to the seven states is too sweeping a term, which homogenises an essentially very diverse region. Of course nobody disputes the heterogeneity of this region where people living even in adjacent valleys do not understand each others tongue. Despite this, the undoubted truth is writers from this region, who mainly use English as their chief mode of literary ex-

pression, are bound together by certain economic and social factors that gives their work a shared commonality. There are certain linkages that make the term writers in English from the Northeast a valid one. These writers have gone to English medium schools, and have often pursued their higher education outside the region. Those who go to these schools think in a certain way, are trained to write in a certain way, have read similar books in their formative years in schools and colleges. They often belong to the better-off strata of their societies. This economic reality makes their point of view a middle class one. They know life outside the region, as well as within. Several of these women are first-generation writers in English from their respective states. This creates a bond that reaches across political boundaries of the region. Of course the underpinnings of literature itself in all the states are very different from one another. Arunachal Pradesh has had a rich history of oral literature. For the most part, written literature there over the last century was in Axomiya or Hindi. Mamang Dais The Legends of Pensam (2006) therefore, in spite of vast differences in theme, tone, style and tenor, has a common thread with The Collectors Wife (2005) from Assam and These Hills Called Home (2006) by Temsula Ao from Nagaland. All three works by

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THOUGH women writers are well-travelled and have sometimes lived away from this area, they write overwhelmingly of their own region
women were written originally in English and published outside the region. And yet the books have an extremely strong rootedness in their own states. Though these women writers are welltravelled and have sometimes lived away from this area, they write overwhelmingly of their own region. Mona Zote grew up outside Mizoram. And now, back in her home state, she writes poetry about her people and her land with a sensibility inescapably coloured by this fact. While writers such as Mamoni Raisom Goswami wrote of places outside the region, those working in English seem loath to do so. This may be from a feeling that there is so much to be mined from this region in English, yet. In Stupid Cupid, Mamang Dai, writing ostensibly about a paying guest accommodation in Del-

hi, keeps oscillating between Arunachal and the capital of the country. Villages and small towns rather than big cities are often a feature of the writings of these women, with all the baggage that this brings to the psychological makeup of their characters. The feminine gaze is apparent in all the recent works by prominent women writers in English here. Of the three books mentioned above, there is an underlying sense of helpless compassion that seems to be a feminine sentiment. Not that compassion is a prerogative of women writers only. But a particular kind of compassion, which is more static in a way than the manner in which the world is seen by male writers. That is, historically speaking, while men have gone out and shaped the world through external means like wars and inventions, women have shaped it at a domestic and, therefore, internal level. Women have awaited the outcome of wars, for the bodies to come home and were also burdened with the knowledge of expecting this sorrow to visit them. There is therefore a kind of uniqueness of vision that several of these women authors have. This is exemplified to an extent in Mamang Dais poem The Sorrow of Women: They are talking about hunger, They are saying there is an unquench-

The precipice of pain

NEW PRINTS
THE OXFORD ANTHOLOGY OF WRITINGS FROM NORTH-EAST INDIA (FICTION)
Tilottoma Misra (ed.) Oxford University Press, 2011 `595, 298 pages Hardcover/ Fiction

ipen
KUSUM CHOPPRA

Northeast
uWho is a Maibi?

NUGGETS

t A priestess of the Sanamahi religion of the Meiteis. They perform the Lai Horouba dance depicting Creation and also dance the tragic love story of Khamba (a poor boy) and Thoibi (a Meitei princess). It is a unique living tradition of Manipur.

Photo: e-pao.net

Source: Haksar, Nandita (ed.). 2011. Glimpses of North East India. New Delhi: Chicken Neck

O and give some to that lump inside too. As it is, he does nothing but eat. Asha took the rasgullas reluctantly and walked quickly away. Am I the only one in this world untouched by this festivity? thought Asha as she headed towards her quarters across the little courtyard of her home. She realized with some pleasure that she was not limping any more and that the ever present body pain was a little less too. Should I not be thankful for that? Everyone was in festive mode. It was Vijay Dashmi, the day Ma had vanquished the Asura. Across the village, in the Bangla para, women were gleefully smearing each other with sindoor and giggling about almost nothing. A huge effigy of Ravan was being given finishing touches by the village craftsmen and gangs of enthusiastic youngsters. In the Marwari and Gujju paras, fafda and jalebis were being consumed by the kilos to replenish the energies spent on nine nights of riotous garba, swaying and whirling to the mesmerizing dhols and garba songs which had everyone entranced and itching to join in. Even in the police para, the Puja festivities were rising to a crescendo for the immersion of Kali Ma. Everyone was celebrating her visit as they sang out for a return next year. Ashas steps slowed as her memories flashed back. Married at 16

from a poor home to the only police wala in a farmer family, Ashas asha was rudely shattered on the day after her frugal wedding. Ashok had showed up drunk at night, hurling abuses and shoes at her before crashing into bed. Her jethanis were stoic. Youll get used to it after sometime. He feels entitled to drink because he is a police wala and gets his drinks free. Asha discovered that Ashok was barely literate. It was his brutal hands that got him the police job. The family was happy that the

good-for-nothing son who refused to work on the land, was, at least, doing something. The police job gave him some clout. He had also learnt police torture tactics. With her hands tied behind her and a gag in her mouth, no sound emerged from their quarter when he thrashed her thoroughly, two quilts ensuring that no marks were left to justify the agonizing pain she always complained off. Asha often wondered whether the family was really so obtuse that no one had deciphered

her constant aches and pains over five years. Asha eased herself down on the top step as she mused Should I not be thankful to Ma for the strength she gave me the day she arrived last week? She had been all set to take her life by jumping off the cliff after Ashoks last bout of thrashing. By some miracle, he had pulled her back just in time. And by Mas grace, she had stopped herself from falling at his feet. Instead, she grabbed his ankles and tipped him over the edge of the cliff. Ashoks face showed shock chasing terror as he flailed his arms. Instead of grabbing her, he mouthed WHY? He grabbed at a little branch, which snapped with his rapid descent. That little break saved Ashoks life. He did not die. The crowd had helped her to pull him up. But the fall had done its damage and turned the tables for Asha: Ashok was paralyzed from his waist down and he could not speak. He lay on a cot, totally dependent on what little time she could spare for him now that she had begun to work to make up for the loss of his income. If I wanted to, I could thrash you like you used to thrash me. But what is the use of thrashing a lump of flesh that cannot even feel the pain. Dont worry, Ill not thrash you. The Navjyoti people have told me that they will get us a special cot with a hole for you. I will place it in the side verandah so the room does not fill with your smells and the metrani will come twice a day to empty the pail and give you a wash. Ma has willed it, hasnt she? Today I will celebrate Ma she emptied her little box of sindoor into her little thali and ran off to join the revelers. T

NTHOLOGY of select fiction written by Northeast writers

WOMEN IN TERRORISM: CASE OF THE LTTE

Tamara Herath Sage, 2011 `595, 242 pages Hardcover/ Non-fiction

N insight on the growing number of women engaging in terrorist activities

EMPIRES GARDEN
Jayeeta Sharma Permanent black, 2012 `750, 324 pages Hardcover/ Non-fiction

HE author traces how the settlement of migrants in Assam changed the regions social landscape.