A piece of history and my brilliant career:

Puranam Subrahmanya Sarma gari preface and my two literary ventures. 

 

In the wake of Thulika’s success, my past started coming back to me in ways I never expected. Therefore, I am taking this opportunity to explain a few details and clear the air. This is particularly addressed to the writers whom I have approached with my proposals in the past 30 years. Others can skip this part and go to the article.

 

In the past, I tried to publish books twice. The first was an anthology of Telugu stories. In early 1970’s while I was in Tirupati, a famous writer suggested it. I contacted writers and gathered all the information necessary for the book. Then I left for America and the book never saw the light of day.

 

For a second time, I came to India in December1982-January 1983, with a young woman, and with a proposal to publish an anthology of translations and  interviewed several female writers. The book was supposed to offer an historical perspective of Telugu women writers and their accomplishments in 1960’s. The project came to an abrupt halt as soon as I returned to the U.S. In 2001, after starting Thulika, tried one more time to revive the project. But now I know that that is not going to happen either. It is official. I dropped the idea and instead am publishing my views on Thulika—my way of making up for those two aborted attempts.

 

The writers whom I have contacted in the past and some of their children did not forget about these two attempts of mine. They are asking me about the status of these two projects. I cannot go into details but I do hereby offer my sincere apologies for not being able to keep the two promises.

 

Earlier I mentioned that my past was coming back to me in strange ways. This article, advaitam (beyond dualism) was supposed to be the preface for the first anthology. I found it while I was going through some of my old papers. Strange because I don’t remember seeing this article in all these years, and that it should surface now, at the same time as I was translating a story of Subrahmanya Sarma garu.

 

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Puranam Subrahmanya Sarma garu was one of the progressive editors who were very supportive of women writing during 1960’s and 1970’s. Sarma’s editorial practices were a mix of contradictions. On one hand, he encouraged women writers to write and publish and, on the other, published cartoons ridiculing women writers in the same magazine, Andhra Jyoti weekly side by side. This apparent contradiction can be explained only one way, that is by referring to our cultural values. Humor is an integral part of our daily lives. Friends and family members tease each other every which way and all the time. No offense intended, none taken.

 

Title: I am not sure why Sarma garu called this preface or foreward advaitam. In Hinduism, advaitam is a branch of philosophy that professes unity of soul and god as opposed to dvaitam which differentiates the two. After reading the article, I was thinking maybe Sarma garu meant the same kind of identification between the writer or his voice/message and the story. I welcome other interpretations.

 

Having failed to bring out the anthology, I am publishing this article as my humble tribute to late Subrahmanya Sarma garu. Thirty years is a long time and some of the references are not clear to me anymore. Therefore I presented only a few paragraphs that made sense to me.

 

 --Malathi, September 2003)

 

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BEYOND DUALISM

 

By Puranam Subrahmanya Sarma (1929-1996)

 

Translated by Nidadavolu Malathi

 

 

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Life is a necessary ingredient for story; meaning, a writer must possess a sense of discernment about life. We will know an author’s potential if we pose the question: Did he write the story with a thorough understanding of life or not? That is the easiest way to decide whether a story is functional or not. 

 

There is one more questio a prospective writer also must ask—what is the writer’s role in writing a story? After reading a story, we must be able to establish whether the writer took a stand on behalf of the subject and was pleading its case or hid himself in the background and moving the story like God. Then we will know whether the author stayed above the story or submerged himself in it. In some cases, it would appear as if the author put the story in a stroller like a baby, took it for a walk, and brought it back carefully. Some stories appear to have grown up on their own.

 

Another important question is whether the story captured the reader’s attention at the outset or was boring. A reader must have a good feeling on reading a story. If a story cannot capture reader’s attention at the outset, there is no question of good feeling. Without proper diction, style and narrative technique, any story fails despite its excellent good theme. 

 

We need to figure out for whom the author is writing—for himself or the public? Could he resonate the world through himself or is he just using the medium to rub his personal woes on the world? Readers resent the writer who writes to show off how difficult it is to write a story and how smart he is.

 

A good story must be able to send the reader in to a rapture. He must experience bliss. A story must have a purpose and a goal. After reading the story, a reader must be provoked into reflection such as how things should be—like this or that.

 

A good story develops only when imagination and reality go together hand-in-hand like two horses of a cart. Writing a story based on the superficial behavior of the characters is the old method. A story cannot be called modern unless it has also psychological insights and portrayal of human psyche. There is one more characteristic without which a good story cannot stand on its own—that is native spirit. If a reader cannot feel that this is a Telugu story, and that only a Telugu person could write like this, then the ego of the entire race gets hurt.

 

However, one must be deluded to expect that a story should contain all these qualities. If one of the characteristics is predominantly presented, other characteristics fall into place proportionately.

 

Fiction writing also is like a great alchemy[sic.]. A kind of chemical reaction takes place when one writes a story and again when it is read.  Some commentators stated that a story must have nothing but the story. However if we examine in detail, we will notice that other characteristics of other genre do seep into any story. Some stories run like the strands of a top-rated lyric. In some stories, dramatization shows strikingly. A potent story erases all the demarcations and stands out on its own with its own individuality. A human being bound by the limitations, morals and tenets created by himself also breaks them occasionally. So also a story surpasses its own code.

 

Writing a story is a kind of social responsibility. We take the raw material along with inspiration from society and then return the same through a literary genre as a finished product to the society. That means the author paid his debt to the society through his writings.

 

In Recently times, a group of new writers started using the story as a powerful weapon to confront and fight back the injustices and atrocities in our society. Raavi Sastry said youth must seize swords, if not, sword-like pens. Literature has the power of not only desiring a change but also bringing about a change. Why not? A piece of paper, with an imprint of the government has the power to rule the world; that being the case, why can’t the writers, holding sword-like pens, have the power to fight the government and create a new system. Today’s young writers have recognized that the story has a responsibility of not just entertaining the readers but several other duties.

 

This anthology, under the editorship of Nidadavolu Malathi garu, contains eleven stories. All the important elements discussed above can be found in the stories in this anthology. Even as all the children of the same mother are not equally fortunate in all levels, all the stories in any anthology do not evince the same level of competency. Angara Venkata Krishna Rao garu depicted the naked exploitation in great graphic detail in his story “cheTTu kinda” [Uunder the Tree]. After reading theis story and realizing that the person who bought a house was forced down to sell the same house, We suffer a a host of emotions—fear, pity, resentment, and anger—all at the same time, after reading the story and realizing that the man who bought a house got down to the level of a seller.

 

 The story, “muuDu kotulu” [Three Monkeys], reviewed from the perspective of Freudian theory of dreams, comes out as a writing which used psychoanalysis as a shield and tore apart human behavior and human relationships. There is enough satire in the story that could provoke a reader to go out and slap every human being on both the cheeks. In this anthology this one story stands out independently like a flagpole. This is a good story inspired by the movie, “Liberation of L.T. Jones.”

 

In the story, “Madhura Minakshi,” R. S. Sudarsanam garu states through the central character, “[at the sight of Goddess Minakshi], some unique feeling filled [my] heart as if time froze; as if I drowned into the depths of the ocean of time; as if I went back to some point in history.” He, the protagonist, met Minakshi, philosophy lecturer, at the [Minakshi] temple. Why can’t the figures be one and the same? Dissociating means having no preference. That is maintaining equitable view. Change is one characteristic of creation. Advaitam preaches that we must supersede this change and experience unity. The protagonist in this story came to visit the Goddess Minakshi and met with another Minakshi. This human Minakshi handed him the message—to experience unification of his feelings. She died the same night in a fire accident. In her death, she illustrated the variance between the permanent and transient. But the author states that the humans can attain unity of the permanent and the transient only through what is transient in this world. There is a danger of this story being ridiculed. Some readers might feel that sermonizing after meeting a woman in a temple and enjoying the pleasure of her company is ridiculous.

 

In Rajaram’s story, “Anamakudu,” [Anonymous person], the expectations of the readers and the characters in the story are baffled by an expected turn of events. The surprising end first brings up a laugh and then pity in the readers. 

 

The story, “manchu debba” [frostbite] is a sad story of a childhood friend who sang the beautiful song dheerasameere at school and later wilted away by a frostbite. One would like to ask why women like Vakula should die? Why couldn’t she elope with somebody? This story showcases how badly we are treating women and their abilities; and, how we are wasting them away. We need a change that stops murdering women like Vakula. After reading Malathi’s story, my afterthoughts were that our society is rotten and our institutions of family and marriage are hankering for repairs.

 

Among the other stories, “akali”[hunger] by Kolakaluri Enoch stands out as one of the best stories. This is one line is sufficient to demonstrate the author’s skill: “Money like a flag that illustrates the superiority of the ‘haves’ and inferiority of the ‘havenots.” The author displays razor-sharp vengence in this story. This is a “small” hunger story. In the entire anthology the three stories that maintained a uniform style are “cheTTu kinda” [Under the Tree], “muuDu kothulu” [Three Monkeys] and “akali”[Hunger]. The stories seem to show that author’s individual voice and style are not developed yet.

 

Pulikanti Krishna Reddy’s story, “guuDu kosam guvvalu” [Birds for Their Nest] depicts the conflicts in the lives of Gurappa thatha who predicts future with the help of aparrot, the parrot, her cage, Ramudu, and the son-in-law Rangadu. Krishna Reddy garu deserves compliments on his effort in weaving the meticulous details, local dialect, and his style which is filled with native flavor in his story.

 

 Malathi garu called this anthology nithya jivithamlo vyasa ghaTTaalu.[1] I must admit that at first vyasa ghaTTam sounded silly to me like snanaghaTTam.[2] Later, on inquiry, I found out that ‘hard-to-comprehend’ places in a book or a story are referred to as vyasa ghaTTaalu. Hard-to-comprehend items cause pain. Pain is a synonym for poetry. All activities—from giving birth to writing a piece—are painful. I believe that writing a story causes only pain, not pleasure. Therefore, I think there is a justification in giving this anthology a name that translates as “stories and sufferings.”

 

There is one more thing I would like to add. Usually we say, “Thus ended the story.” But, to speak the truth, no story really ends. Even when we think that the story is completed, it still leaves a lot more for us to think about. Just like life, stories are also incomplete. Life and fiction are equally unfinished. Each person has a story and that is never ending. Whether one writes or not, stories keep springing up. The unwritten stories are unborn children.

 

No matter who writes in which language and in what country, all stories contain an element of universality. Each story reminds us that there are no boundaries for literature. I can ascertain without hesitation and full conviction that people who say, “What can literature do? Who wants fiction and such nonsense,” are fools, no doubt.

 

 

--Puranam Subrahmya Sarma.

 

Vijayawada –10

June 25, 1973.

 

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[1] This amused me. I don’t remember the phrase, vyasa ghaTTaalu, nor the meaning. Sarma gari explanation is interesting. I thought readers would enjoy this part. – Malathi.

[2] Bathing place next to a well or river.