Showing posts with label writer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writer. Show all posts

Monday, 14 May 2012

Books: Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni ~ 'Immigration gave me the passion to write'


(I did this as-told-to Aditi De interview for Man's World in 2003)


I’M A writer. A teacher of creative writing at the University of Houston. A social activist. And the mother of two sons, Abhay (10) and Anand (13). I also teach ‘India in the Writer’s Eye,’ a fiction course focusing on how you depict a culture differently, depending on who you are. I try to interweave these complementary roles.

My mother was a schoolteacher.  So was my grandfather’s father.  In fact, when I finished my Ph.D. at the University of California, Berkeley, I started teaching literature. I fell into writing much later.

I come from a sheltered, traditional Bengali household in Kolkata, where I never thought about my Indian identity. Immigration was really an eye-opener. It gave me the passion to write.

            I recall my mother saying, ‘The day you start at Presidency College, only saris for you.’ All my friends are wearing bell-bottoms! At 19, the minute I reached Wright State University at Dayton, Ohio, for my M.A. course, I got into blue jeans and a T-shirt.

            On my second day in Dayton, I was walking on the streets with a relative, when a group of kids called out, “Nigger!” It was such a shock. (Passionately) For many years, I never even told anyone about it. A short story in ‘Arranged Marriage’ (1990) deals with that experience. I hope my books create a sense of the complexity of immigrant culture, for all readers.
           
Gradually, I became aware of the ambiguous experience of being a woman of colour living in the US. I now wear Indian clothes for all my formal US activities. I’m saying: ‘You will accept me on these terms. I am good at what I do, no matter what I wear.’

            My community and my culture are central to my writing. I’m very much a South Asian American writer, whose Indian roots are important. I want to create a dual dimension between the mythic and contemporary reality of India.

I think all art is a search for the self. Kafka once said: “A book should be an axe to shatter the frozen sea inside us.” (Reflectively) If literature works well, we experience what our scriptures tell us: ‘We are all one.’
           
For the past 15-20 years, I’ve been influenced by Indian spirituality. In my recent novel ‘Queen of Dreams’ (launched here in March 2005), both the main woman characters are going through a subtle process of spiritual questioning. What is the meaning of life? How do I relate to the rest of humanity? How do I find strength within myself? How do I counter hate in the world? And the reality of 9/11 affects Rakhi’s dream of America.

            In 1991, I co-founded Maitri (a helpline for immigrant women victims of domestic abuse). Their courage, grace and hope move me deeply. It’s very inspiring to see what they achieve with a little help.

For a year, I wrote a column about the immigrant experience in the US for ‘India Today.’ About inter-generational gaps, parenting roles, the problems of elderly parents as visitors. In ‘The Unknown Errors of Our Lives,’ (2001) a story deals with arranged marriages. Our young people benefit from the resources that America offers, as from strong family support. With rising US divorce rates, many are returning to marriage as a considered action within the family.

            In the post-65 generation, most Indians Americans were professionals. From different communities, socio-economically they were a homogenous group, a model community. But after the 1984 Family Reunification Act, there’s a layer of small motel, gas station and 7/11 owners, factory workers and taxi drivers. This has caused a real schism within our community.

            Instead of wishing these new immigrants were invisible, why can’t we make the American dream more real for them through integration? Such as providing scholarships before these less privileged youth join gangs? I think one of my future works is going to be about this.

I’m excited that my first novel, ‘The Mistress of Spices’ (1997) is being made into a film by Gurinder Chadha. She’s a strong feminist director, totally in tune with the immigrant experience. I’ve no problems with Aishwarya Rai playing Tilo. I thought she did a good job in ‘Chokher Bali.’ 
 

(My husband) Murthy and the boys are getting cameo roles when Gurinder shoots in California on the March 19-20 weekend. (Laughing) Since I’m in India for two weeks, my cameo will be the cover of ‘India Currents,’ on which I appeared a while ago! They’ve promised to put it in.

            If you look at the history of literature, it’s mostly men telling the stories of men. It’s important for women to tell the stories of women. If only men would read more woman-centric novels, it would deepen their human experience.

Some men have been offended because I deal with women’s issues. ‘You make Indian men look bad,’ they complain.  Often, women are equal participants in perpetuating certain situations. In ‘Sister of My Heart,’ (1999), the mother-in-law is very keen on having a grandson, not a granddaughter, as the first child of the family.

My books are about the problems Indian Americans face as a race in the US. Men who have experienced prejudice appreciate that. And those who’ve been activists react positively. Right on, they say.


Thursday, 3 May 2012

Writing: CS Lakshmi ~ The little bird's long journey

(I wrote this in 2005)


The purpose of SPARROW is... to inspire people to find sustenance in the stories of women who have lived before them and women who live and work amidst them.
— Annual Report, SPARROW, 2003-04 

C.S. LAKSHMI of the Mumbai-based Sound & Picture Archives for Research on Women (SPARROW) is distinguished by unusual personal qualities. She was in town for the recent release of The World of Maya, a SPARROW trust publication in tribute to the late political cartoonist, Maya Kamath. Originally set up in her bedroom in 1988, its founder-trustee and director Lakshmi took time off to cue us into the archive's work. Such as conscience-stirring workshops for college-goers following the 1992 Mumbai riots.

That's besides documentation of women's studies pioneers such as Dr. Vina Mazumdar and Dr. Neera Desai, legendary writer Mahasweta Devi, theatre activist Mangai and lawyer-activist Flavia Agnes under the Global Feminism Project. Or photographic records of Women and Work in Chennai (including a fishmonger and an idli vendor). Even a book on three generations of women in a Kodava family. Or a tongue-in-cheek, insight-bright media watch on underwear advertising in print — and its impact on customer identity!

"At this point, I see myself as a feminist who has lived without compromise," declares Lakshmi, who holds a Ph.D. from Jawaharlal Nehru University on US policy towards 1956 Hungarian refugees from communism. "I've never compromised where my writing in Tamil (as Ambai) is concerned. Nor about funds for SPARROW (mainly from the Dutch agency Hivos since 1997). That's because all our trustees — Dr. Neera Desai, Dr. Maithreyi Krishna Raj, Dr. Divya Pandey and Dr. Roshan G. Shahani — are committed to women's studies and issues."

How did SPARROW, now housed in 2000 sq. ft. of temporary rented space, come into being? While studying women writers in popular Tamil journals in the 1970s, Lakshmi met a generation from the 1930s-50s. "My constant query was: where does their mental and physical space for expression come from? You get amazing answers to that," stresses Lakshmi. "I admired their principles, even when we didn't see eye to eye."

That's when she chose to further research women through non-traditional source materials — such as diaries, letters, even oral history — in a trust initiated with personal funds. "These were considered soft materials, unlike official documents," asserts Lakshmi, still engaged in an illustrated social history of women in Tamil Nadu.

A painting exhibition in 1992 was SPARROW's first major fund-raiser, enabling the archive to shift to a small Juhu room with a part-time librarian. "But when the Mumbai riots happened, we were totally shattered," Lakshmi recalls. "That's when we decided to have a five-day workshop on communal harmony for college students. We showed them films from the Partition onwards. Many participants were attending without telling their parents. We realised how much more we needed to do."

That experience led to oral history student workshops on Dalit life, even tribal struggles. And visual history ones on traditional sculpture or classical dance. Even film-based sessions on popular movies or filmi geet. Transcript-based booklets emerged from each of SPARROW's 14 workshops.

What fans the sparkling-at-60 fire within Lakshmi? Perhaps her nationalistic, Gandhian overview from a post-independence generation. Or could it be her avatar as the lauded Tamil fiction writer Ambai, which first bloomed at 16? Her short stories focus on relationships, brilliantly observed, wryly commented on, totally contemporary. This characterises the Sirakukal Muriyum and Vittin Mulaiyil Oru Camaiyalarai collections, some rendered into English as A Purple Sea. But Lakshmi is equally celebrated for her 1984 critical work, The Face Behind the Mask, a study of women's images in modern Tamil fiction.

"To me, a feminist is a woman who leads a non-degraded life," Lakshmi concludes. "That is every woman's right." To the SPARROW trustees, their work no longer signifies a commonplace bird. Instead, it could be a viable cry in the wilderness.

(The Hindu Metroplus, Bangalore, 2005)