Gajendra Thakur
A PARALLEL HISTORY OF MITHILA & MAITHILI LITERATURE- PART 13
Dalit Literary Criticism: Telugu, Gujarati, and Odia Dalit Literature in Maithili Translation
7. *Black Ink*: Shriya -A Complex Child-Character
Shriya is the story's **most significant literary achievement**. She is **simultaneously**:
**Innocent** -compassion for animals, writing a diary, helping an elderly person.
**Curious** -wanting to know everything, asking questions.
**Loving** -natural affection for the speaker.
**Caste-conditioned** -the **unconscious carrier** of her parents' caste-prejudice.
This character-complexity is the most subtle portrayal of **caste socialization**. Shriya does not practice caste distinction **knowingly** -she has been **taught** it. Her parents' "no Harijan friend" -this has become **natural** in Shriya.
Piaget's **child-development theory** (in which he argues that children learn social rules through **imitation**, not through reasoning) comes to life here. Shriya imitates her parents' **caste-behavior** -without understanding what **moral problem** this creates.
Through this character Vinodini poses a **difficult question**: where does the **reproduction** of the caste system take place? In the parents' **explicit teaching** -but even more so, in their **silent behavior**, which the child takes as **natural**.
---
8. *Black Ink*: "Mahima" -The Presence of an Absent Character
In the story there is an **absent character** -Mahima -who is of utmost importance.
*"Once I ate the snack served by her mother in my friend Mahima's house. I wrote that in black ink."*
Mahima is "Harijan" -Shriya says so herself. Eating in her home was **"black ink"** worthy.
But Shriya **makes friends with Mahima** -only **eating** in her home is forbidden. This demonstrates the **subtle division of caste-behavior**: **personal contact** possible, but **food-sharing** -which is the deepest prohibition of caste -impossible.
B.R. Ambedkar said in *Annihilation of Caste* that the most rigid rule of the caste system is the **roti-beti** (food-marriage) rule. Shriya's behavior shows the **"roti"** rule **in the child's mind**.
---
9. *Black Ink*: The Final Image -Butterfly and Caterpillar
The story's final line:
*"All the dried butterflies in the room turned into caterpillars crawling on me."*
This **figurative transformation** is the **poetic essence** of the entire story.
At the story's beginning Shriya was a **butterfly** -beautiful, free, flying. At the story's end she becomes a **caterpillar** -crawling, earth-bound, ugly.
**"Dried butterflies"** -symbol of dead beauty. What **seemed living** -was in fact **dead**.
In this image lies the **entire thought-essence of the story**: the childhood innocence that seems a **butterfly** -is in fact the **caterpillar** of caste-conditioning. The beauty that seemed **smiles** -was the **cover** of caste-hatred. The flight that seemed **freedom** -was **privilege**.
Virginia Woolf's **stream of consciousness** technique -in which the speaker's inner experience and external events **become one** -is here used by Vinodini **in an Indian-Dalit context** most effectively.
---
10. Comparison of Both Stories: Two Poetic Visions
**Similarity of Subject Matter**
The **caste system** is at the center of both stories. In both, **ritual and practice** -giving food, making friends -shows the **caste-line**.
**Difference of Perspective**
*The Crow* -the caste system at the **community-level**: the ritualistic life of an entire community.
*Black Ink* -the caste system at the **individual-level**: the sudden revelation of caste in one relationship.
**Difference of Temporal Sense**
*The Crow* -**centuries-old** system. "Bandodu comes every night to a special family to beg for food." -this is a perennial ritual.
*Black Ink* -**a single day's event**. But in that one day a centuries-old system **is revealed**.
---
11. Poetry versus Story: The Distinctiveness of the Medium
This raises an important literary question: for the expression of the Dalit experience, which medium is more powerful -**poetry or prose**?
**The power of poetry**: intensity, density, signal. Bhimanna's *Burning Skulls*, Gauri's *Henna-Stained Hands* -these poems **make a moment eternal**.
**The power of prose**: expansion, complexity, child-psychology, the detail of social ritual. In *Black Ink*, Shriya's **gradual transformation** -from smile to hatred -**was only possible in prose** this powerfully.
In *The Crow*, Bandodu's **complex social position** -Dalit among Dalits, powerful among the powerless -could not have come so extensively in poetry.
Both mediums are **mutually complementary**. The **completeness** of Dalit literature is in both poetry and prose.
---
Conclusion
Kolakuri Enoch's *The Crow* and Vinodini's *Black Ink* are both **important achievements** of Telugu Dalit prose-literature.
*The Crow* -**the complexity of the external system**: liberation and curse are one, power within powerlessness, the indispensable within the disgusting. A **community-level** philosophy.
*Black Ink* -**the agony of inner experience**: caste-hatred hidden within innocence, a **caterpillar** hidden within a smile. A **personal-level** shock.
The final question of both stories is the same:
*The Crow* -**"Should there be so much revenge for not giving food due to poverty?"**
*Black Ink* -**"We are friends, and is it necessary to know all this?"**
Both questions remain **unanswered** -left for the reader, for society, for history to answer.
And until this answer comes, Dalit literature -in poetry, in prose, in Maithili, in Telugu -**will continue questioning**.
---
Part XI: *Forever Friend* (*Jigiri*) -A Telugu Novel
Peddinti Ashok Kumar
---
Prefatory Note
*Forever Friend* (original Telugu: *Jigiri*) is **structurally different** from all the works studied so far in this review series. After poetry and short fiction, an excerpt from a **complete novel** is presented -and this excerpt traverses the novel's **entire emotional-philosophical journey**.
At the center of this novel is an **extraordinary friendship** -between a human (Imam) and a bear (Shadool) -which becomes the metaphor for the **social-political crisis** of the Dalit-marginal-Qalandar community. In this sense the novel opens a new dimension of **Dalit-tribal literature**: not caste, but **ethnic-cultural extinction** is at the center.
---
1. The Novel's Structure and Technique
**Beginning: In Medias Res**
The novel begins with a **delayed revelation** technique. The first line -*"The sun rose. The sun also set."* -expresses a **cosmic indifference**. The sun doesn't care whether Imam is there or not. This **existentialist** opening establishes the novel's fundamental question -*Does human existence have any value?* -from the very first line.
Imam and Shadool's introduction occurs **comparatively**:
*"Imam, a human, who wandered around his animal like an animal"* -and *"Shadool... actually not human, but an animal... had become a gentle creature."*
In this **inverted introduction** lies the novel's central paradox: **human like an animal, animal like a human**. In this paradox the **dehumanization** of the Qalandar community and Shadool's **humanization** are expressed simultaneously.
---
2. Character Analysis
**Imam: The Tragic Hero**
Imam is a **classic tragic hero**. His *hamartia* (tragic flaw) -if it can be called a flaw -is the **limitlessness of his love**. He loves Shadool so much that he cannot accept **practical reality**.
But in this novel blaming Imam would be **unjust**. His tragedy does not arise from personal weakness -it arises from the **social-political system**. Land rights, police oppression, animal protection law -all together present Imam with an **impossible choice**: his friend or his family's future.
Imam's internal monologue -*"Why do you follow behind me with your eyes closed, trusting me completely, Shadool? Why don't you kill me?"* -expresses both **guilt** and **helplessness** simultaneously. This self-accusation is one of the most poignant moments in the novel.
**Shadool: The Humanized Animal**
Shadool's character is the novel's **most significant literary achievement**. He is neither merely an animal nor merely a figure -he is the **unity of both**.
Shadool's **emotional intelligence** is portrayed with great subtlety: *"From the tone of Imam's voice, Shadool would gauge the situation."* He reads Imam's happiness-sadness, fear-hope -all without words, without language. He was the **most sensitive member** of that family.
In the final scene -*"Shadool came and sat beside him, resting his head in Imam's lap"* -this is **unconditional love**. Shadool doesn't know that Imam is planning his death -and in this unknowingness lies the **supreme agony of betrayal**.
**Bibamma: Symbol of Change**
Bibamma is the novel's **most complex woman-character**. She who used to say Shadool *"must have been my child in a past life"* -the same woman ultimately urges her husband to abandon Shadool.
This **moral transformation** is not villainy -it is the result of **survival instinct**. The dream of land -which never before seemed possible -seeing that dream, Bibamma's **priorities** changed.
In this character the novel's most realistic aspect is **moral ambiguity**. Neither is Bibamma a villainess, nor a victim -she is a **human** making a life-choice in impossible circumstances.
**Chand: The Aspiration and Cruelty of the New Generation**
Chand is the novel's most **controversial** character. On one side -he loved Shadool, considered him "two Babus." On the other side -he plans to bury Shadool alive.
This **contradiction** is the symbol of **generational shift**. For Chand's generation, **land-stability** is more important than love for Shadool. He is the symbol of **new India** -which wants to be free from traditional bonds, but does not see the **cost** of this freedom.
One new dimension of Marx's **alienation** theory appears here: Chand is **alienated from his cultural identity**. Shadool is not merely a bear -he is the **living symbol** of Qalandar culture. When Chand abandons Shadool, he in fact abandons **his own community's history**.
---
3. Bear-Dancing: Cultural Economics
The novel's central **cultural-economic** conflict is: **animal protection law versus Qalandar livelihood**.
**The Paradox of Law**
India's 1972 **Wildlife Protection Act** and later the **Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Act** declared the Qalandars' traditional occupation -bear-dancing -illegal. The law's **moral foundation** was: animal welfare. But its **unintended consequence** was: the **economic destruction** of the Qalandar community.
The novel presents this paradox **justly** -neither simply supporting the law, nor simply opposing it. Imam loves Shadool -he is **not cruel**. But without Shadool his **livelihood** is gone.
Amartya Sen's **capability approach** -in which he argues that human development is not merely economic, but the **complete development** of cultural-social capacities -is pertinent here. From the Qalandars, their traditional skill, their cultural identity, and their livelihood -all three are being **taken** simultaneously.
---
4. The Philosophy of Friendship: The Novel's Central Thought
The word *Jigiri* in Telugu means **"close friend"** -the most intimate friend. But in the novel this friendship is **not between human and human, but between human and animal**.
Albert Camus says in *The Myth of Sisyphus* that **solidarity** -between two beings bound by the same fate -is the only means of creating meaning in a meaningless life. Imam and Shadool's friendship is the finest example of this **Camusian solidarity**.
Both are society's **"abject"** (disgusting-excluded). Imam -nomad, lower-caste, uneducated. Shadool -wild, impure, dangerous. Society considers both **useful but unacceptable**.
*"Those without a voice, even crows consider them light"* -this line from the short story *The Crow* echoes in *Jigiri* as well. Shadool cannot speak -so his **absence of voice** makes him **less important** in society's eyes.
**The Betrayal of Friendship**
The novel's **most agonizing** moment is: Imam hands the poisoned molasses to Shadool.
*"Imam's hands trembled while handing over the molasses. Shadool took it and began to chew. Imam kept watching, his eyes blurred with tears."*
In this scene there is an echo of the **Judas kiss** -the ancient mythological symbol of betrayal. But here Imam is not voluntarily a traitor -he makes an **impossible choice** in impossible circumstances.
Dostoevsky shows in *Crime and Punishment* that **moral guilt** is more terrible than murder. Imam kills Shadool physically -but **dies himself spiritually**.
---
5. The Land Question: Dalit-Tribal Politics
In the novel, the **land document** is a **Mcguffin** (story-driving object) -which drives the entire narrative tension.
**The Politics of Land**
The Qalandars were **historically denied land rights** -because they were **nomadic**. How can someone who does not permanently reside on land own it? In this **administrative logic** lies the Qalandar community's entire existential crisis.
The MRO (Mandal Revenue Officer) who sets the condition -*"the bear should not be seen in the vicinity again"* -is a symbol of the **modern Indian state**. The state **simultaneously** gives the Qalandar land (rehabilitation) and destroys their identity (bear-abandonment). This is **paradoxical modernization**.
---
6. The Final Scene: The Aesthetics of Silence
The novel's final section -Shadool's death -is written in minimal language:
*"After a few moments Shadool began to stagger. He gave a soft moan and collapsed. Imam sat beside him, his hand on Shadool's head, until the bear stopped breathing. The forest was silent."*
This **minimalist prose** is extraordinarily powerful. What was left unsaid -Imam's wailing, Shadool's thrashing -is **more eloquent in silence**.
Hemingway's **"iceberg theory"** -in which he argues that in the finest prose what remains unsaid is more powerful than what is said -applies here most exquisitely.
*"Imam felt that a part of him had died with Shadool."* -this single line leaves an **irremovable ache** in the reader's heart.
---
7. *Jigiri* and the Dalit Literature Series: Comparative Place
In this complete review series -poetry, short fiction, and now novel -*Jigiri* occupies a **special place**.
**Bhimanna** -the **bird's eye view** of Dalit history (macro view).
**Subhadra** -the **microscopic view** of daily labor (micro view).
**Kolakuri Enoch** (*The Crow*) -the **middle view** of communal ritual (meso view).
***Jigiri*** -this most **extensive narrative** -in which personal friendship, family conflict, communal politics, and state power -all are contained in a single narrative.
In this sense *Jigiri* is the **epic voice** of Telugu Dalit literature.
---
Conclusion
Peddinti Ashok Kumar's *Forever Friend* is a **multi-layered outstanding work** that:
**At the literary level** -through the friendship of human and animal, presents the poetics of **love, trust, and betrayal**.
**At the social level** -preserves the **cultural extinction** of the Qalandar community in literary memory.
**At the political level** -justly questions the **paradox of animal rights versus human rights**.
**At the philosophical level** -reveals the tragic reality of **the impossible situation of friendship** -where love and survival are mutually contradictory.
The novel's final truth -*"The land was his, but its price was beyond what Imam could bear"* -encapsulates the **central question** of all Dalit-tribal literature in a single sentence:
**Can "development" and "rights" be purchased at the cost of the murder of a community's soul?**
---
Final Synthesis: Dalit Literature in Maithili Translation
A Comprehensive Assessment of a Tri-Linguistic Literary Project
---
1. The Nature and Importance of the Project
In this review series we have read Maithili translations of Dalit poetry, short fiction, and a novel from three different Indian languages -Telugu, Gujarati, and Odia. The poets and writers are: Boyi Bhimanna, J. Subhadra, Challpalli Swarooparani, Darishee Shashinirmala, M. Gauri, Madduri Vijayashri (Telugu); Anish Garange, Rajendra Vadel 'Jeeta', Umesh Solanki (Gujarati); Basudev Sunani (Odia); Kolakuri Enoch, Vinodini, Peddinti Ashok Kumar (Telugu prose).
This project is **not merely translation** -it is a **cultural-political initiative** that works simultaneously on several levels.
---
2. Comparative Conclusions: Three Poetic Traditions
**Telugu Dalit Poetry**
Telugu Dalit poetry in this collection is the most extensive and diverse. The six poets -Bhimanna, Subhadra, Swarooparani, Shashinirmala, Gauri, Vijayashri -together create a **complete poetic universe**.
**Gujarati Dalit Poetry**
Gujarati Dalit poetry is **urban-centric** and **political-historical**. The Gandhi-Ambedkar controversy, the invisibility of urban life, the critique of nation-building. The **male voice** is prominent.
**Odia Dalit Poetry**
Odia Dalit poetry is **philosophical-mystical** and **farmer-centric**. Questions of existence through natural images, the intellectual-farmer controversy, the poetics of invisibility.
---
3. What Was Preserved, What Was Lost
**What Was Preserved**
The **central argument and political message** was preserved almost entirely. Bhimanna's counter-mythological argument, Shashinirmala's three-fronted struggle, Solanki's Gandhi-irony, Sunani's "always" -all are secure in Maithili.
**Indigenous symbols** -Indian laburnum, tamarind, Maisamma Devi, Laanda, Avva, Mankenapuvvu, Alisamma, Jigiri -were kept as-is. This was a **wise translation decision**: attempting to translate would have destroyed the original cultural-geographic specificity.
**Emotional intensity** -Imam's trembling hands, Vijayashri's curse, Shriya's smile's transformation from butterfly to caterpillar -the Maithili reader also experiences all this.
**What Was Partially Lost**
**The phonological beauty** -Telugu, Gujarati, and Odia have their own musicality that was partially lost in the English and further lost in Maithili.
**Ambiguity** -"Gudiselu" (skull/hut) in Telugu's double meaning, the special stress on "na" (mine) in "Naa Varasatvpu Hakkulu" -these were partially lost in Maithili.
---
4. New Poetic Principles Introduced in Maithili
Through this project several **new poetic principles** entered Maithili literature:
**First** -*Anger is an aesthetic category*. In traditional Maithili poetics -in the tradition of Rasa theory -anger (*Raudra Rasa*) is generally considered an auxiliary *rasa*, not primary. Dalit poetry proves that **anger is itself a complete poetic emotion** -with its own aesthetics.
**Second** -*Ordinary objects can be the center of poetry*. A sari's edge, a clay pot, Laanda, a poster -these could not be considered poetic subjects in the Maithili poetic tradition. Through these poems, **Dalit object-poetics** enters Maithili.
**Third** -*The body is political terrain*. In Maithili Shringar-poetry the body is the subject of **beauty** -idealized, poetic. In Dalit poetry the body is the subject of **labor, pain, and resistance** -this **new poetic vision** had not come to Maithili before.
**Fourth** -*Testimony is a poetic mode*. The **testimonial mode** of the Telugu women poets -in which the poem assumes the form of judicial evidence -is the introduction of a **new poetic mode** in Maithili.
---
5. Historical Significance: The Absence of Dalit Voice in Maithili
A Critical Appraisal of Dalit Literature Translated into Maithili through the Lens of Indian Rasa Theory
*By a Professor of English Literature*
---
Introduction: The Question of Rasa and Dalit Literary Experience
At the heart of Indian literary theory lies the *rasa* doctrinefrom Bharata to Abhinavagupta, the conception that literature's purpose is not *socialization* but *aesthetic experience*, that it transports the reader beyond *laukika vritti* (worldly engagement) into a realm where pleasure and pain become objects of *āsvāda* (aesthetic savoring). Dalit literature poses a complex question to this framework: a literature that presents itself as a document of *dard* (pain), that makes *ākrośa* (outcry) its primary voicehow does it enter the category of *rasa*? Can *vībhatsa* (the odious) and *raudra* (the furious), as *sthāyibhāvas* (permanent moods), culminate in *rasa* as do *śṛṅgāra* (the erotic) and *karuṇa* (the compassionate)?
This anthologycomprising Maithili translations of Telugu, Gujarati, and Odia Dalit poetry, short fiction, and a novelraises this question with remarkable intensity. This appraisal evaluates this literature within the framework of Indian *rasa* theory, examining how these works generate *rasa* through the combination of *vibhāva* (determinants), *anubhāva* (consequents), and *vyabhicāribhāva* (transitory states), and whether that generation becomes an experience of *āsvāda* for the *sahṛdaya* (the sympathetic reader).
---
Chapter I: The Inversion of ŚṛṅgāraLove, Separation, and the Dalit Body
Classical *śṛṅgāra rasa* takes *rati* (love/desire) as its *sthāyibhāva*. It manifests both in *sambhoga* (union) and *vipralambha* (separation). Dalit literature, however, presents a radically transformed *śṛṅgāra*. J. Subhadra's poem "The Edge of the Sari" (Sāṛīk Kor) inverts the traditional iconography of love and the female body:
> "Hungry, my belly hollowed, the edge of my sari hangs loose upon it, like the goddess 'Maisamma' at the threshold of the courtyard."
Here, the *vibhāvas* of classical *śṛṅgāra*the beloved, beauty, the desire for unionare displaced by *labor*, *hunger*, *motherhood*, and the *stench of the body*. The sari's edge, which in classical poetics signifies ornamentation, modesty, femininity itself, becomes here the cloth that wipes sweat, the cradle for the child, the covering for menstruation, the cushion for carrying water pots. This is a complete transformation of *vibhāva*. The *anubhāvas* of classical *śṛṅgāra*subtle gestures, coy smiles, sidelong glancesare replaced by *vībhatsa* (the odious) and *karuṇa* (the compassionate) *anubhāvas*: licking the dust from the body, soaking menstrual cloths, burning fingers at the hearth.
The Dalit female body, in this literature, is not the *alankārika śarīra* (ornamental body) of classical poetics but the *body of labor*, the *body of livelihood*, the *body of torture*. In Abhinavagupta's terms, the process of *sādhāraṇīkaraṇa* (universalization) operates differently here. Classical *śṛṅgāra* universalized *rati* into a shared human experience; Dalit literature insists on the particularity of *labor* and *deprivation*, resisting universalization. This refusal of *sādhāraṇīkaraṇa* constitutes a fundamental challenge to *rasa* theory.
Challapalli Swaruparani's "Mānkenāpuvvu" (Red Like the Silk-Cotton Flower) makes this inversion even more explicit:
> "At home, male-control slaps one cheek, while in the street, caste-control slaps the other."
The *vipralambha* of classical *śṛṅgāra*the pangs of separation from the belovedis replaced by the doubled violence of caste and patriarchy. *Kāmadeva*, *rati*, *viraha*these *sthāyibhāvas* give way to *the chains of slavery*, *endurance*, *rage*. The poem's closing"I shall bloom like the *mānkenāpuvvu*!"suggests not *sambhoga* (union with the beloved) but *vidroha* (rebellion), a turn toward *vīra rasa* (the heroic). Yet this *vīra* does not emerge from the classical *āśraya* (patron)the king, the warriorbut from the Dalit woman's struggle for self-sovereignty.
---
Chapter II: Raudra and VīraRage, Resistance, and the Rasa of Identity
The dominant mood of Dalit literature is *krodha* (rage). Classical *raudra rasa* takes *krodha* as its *sthāyibhāva*. According to Abhinavagupta, the *vibhāvas* of *raudra* are: cause for anger, indignation, insult, falsehood, injustice. The *anubhāvas*: reddened eyes, furrowed brow, trembling lips, agitation of limbs, brandishing weapons. The *vyabhicāribhāvas*: impulse, ferocity, impatience, self-reproach, fear.
Boyi Bhimanna's "Our Ancestral Right" (Hamra Paitṛk Adhikār) manifests *raudra* in its full force:
> "Vyasa, the architect of Aryan identity, was himself a man of low caste. Today he is a caste-Hindu, while we, of his own caste, are Dalit-outcastesthis is Indian tradition!"
The *vibhāvas* here: Vedic greatness usurped, exclusion, deprivation. The *anubhāvas*: digging the graveyard, searching for ancestral rights, declaration. This *raudra* differs fundamentally from classical *raudra*, which typically manifests in the destruction of *asuras* and *dānavas* (demons). Here, the *āśraya* (subject) of *krodha* is the Dalit community itself; the *viṣaya* (object) is the historical crime of savarna Hindutva. This *raudra* aims not at *śānti* (peace) but at *nyāya* (justice).
Yet the question arises: can this *raudra* be *āsvādita* (tasted aesthetically)? Abhinavagupta insists that *rasāsvāda* requires *vaiparītya* (aesthetic distance). But Dalit literature, in its urgency, refuses distance. The reader does not observe rage from afar but experiences it from within. This complicates the very possibility of *raudra* as *rasa*. Is it *rasa* for the *sahṛdaya*, or is it *sandēśa* (message)? Does it yield *ānanda* (aesthetic pleasure), or does it produce *asuvidhā* (discomfort)?
Rajendra Vadeil 'Jita's' "Sexual Union" (Sambhoga) stages a lethal convergence of *raudra* and *vībhatsa*:
> "My soft lips touched yours; I felt the roughness of the upper caste. When your hidden gaze found my moist eyes, the ghost of rape danced before me in broad daylight."
Here, the *vibhāvas* of *śṛṅgāra sambhoga*soft lips, the touch of lips, moist eyestransform into *vībhatsa* (rape) and *raudra* (rage). This is a trivenī (confluence) of three *rasas*. Classical *rasa* theory permits multiple *rasas* in a single work in *aṅgī-aṅga* (principal-subordinate) relationship. But here the *rasas* are mutually antagonistic*śṛṅgāra* and *vībhatsa* rarely coexist in classical poetics. Their convergence here marks the distinctiveness of Dalit literature: love and violence inhabit the same space.
---
Chapter III: Karuṇa and VībhatsaThe Aesthetics of Suffering
Classical *karuṇa rasa* takes *śoka* (grief) as its *sthāyibhāva*. Its *vibhāvas*: loss of the beloved, curse, calamity. Its *anubhāvas*: tears, lamentation, fainting, bodily collapse. *Vībhatsa rasa* takes *jugupsā* (disgust) as its *sthāyibhāva*. Its *vibhāvas*: stench, blood, flesh, excrement, the corpse.
In Dalit literature, *karuṇa* and *vībhatsa* frequently move together. Kolakaluri Enoch's story "The Crow" (Kauā) exemplifies this convergence. The *Bandodu*a beggar belonging to the tenth sub-caste of the Madiga (leather-worker) communitykills and eats crows. Those who refuse him food face crow attacks on their homes. The story's *vībhatsa vibhāvas*: crow flesh, the stench of rotting meat, vomit, bundles of wings. Its *anubhāvas*: the *caw-caw* of crows, the pecking attack, eye-gouging, pain.
Yet the *āsvāda* of this *vībhatsa* differs fundamentally from classical *vībhatsa*. Classical *vībhatsa* is experienced *from a distance*. Here, there is no distance. This *vībhatsa* is integral to livelihoodtanning hides, starvation, the struggle for survival. The *Bandodu* kills crows because of *hunger*. *Vībhatsa* here signifies not disgust but helplessness:
> "He is death for crows! In truth, he looks like them. His hair is like a thicket of thorns. If a crow pecks his head, it gets entangled and is caught for the day's meal."
The *Bandodu* himself is not the *subject* of *vībhatsa* but its *victim*. This *vībhatsa* merges with *karuṇa*. His very presence drives crows away; at the bottom of the social hierarchy, in the world of crows, he is *power*. This paradoxthe conjunction of power and helplessnessgenerates a fusion of *karuṇa* and *vībhatsa*.
Vinodini's "Black Ink" (Kārī Masi) presents an even more intense *karuṇa*. Eight-year-old Shreya, who loves her Dalit neighbor "Auntie," when she learns her caste, her face transforms:
> "Are you really a Harijan? Tell me the truth!" The child's face gradually lost all its colors, taking on a grey hue.
The *vibhāvas* of *karuṇa* here: the loss of love, the innocence of childhood, the horror of the caste system. The *anubhāvas*: the change of complexion, running away fleeing, the gaze of disgust. This *karuṇa* differs from classical *karuṇa* rooted in the loss of a lover. The loss is of *friendship*. The cause is not divine calamity but the *poison of the caste system*. This *karuṇa* approaches *raudra* but does not fully become itbecause of the impossibility of annihilation.
---
Chapter IV: Śānta and AdbhutaThe Other Aesthetics of Resistance
Classical *śānta rasa* takes *nirveda* (renunciation) as its *sthāyibhāva*. *Adbhuta rasa* takes *vismaya* (wonder) as its *sthāyibhāva*. In Dalit literature, these two *rasas* appear rarely but not entirely absent.
Basudev Sunani's Odia poetry, in translation, intimates *adbhuta*:
> "There is a droplet in the sky that shines even when indistinct, dreaming a sweet rainbow dream, vowing again and again to color the vast sky."
This *adbhuta* is the *adbhuta* of resistancea drop of light amidst sowers of darkness, the possibility of creation amidst destruction. But this *adbhuta* differs from classical *adbhuta*, which arises from the vision of the divine. Here, *adbhuta* is of *hope*, of *possibility*, of *incompletion*. The poet declares: "Much still remains to happen." This *adbhuta* is *adhūrā* (incomplete), *apūrṇa* (unfinished).
*Śānta* rasa is almost absent from Dalit literature. Why? Because *śānta* demands *nirveda*renunciation of the world. Dalit literature is a struggle for *worldly attainment*land, dignity, rights, identity. *Śānta* demands *virāma* (cessation); Dalit literature is *saṅgrāma* (struggle). The only exception appears at moments of death. At the end of the novel *Friends Forever*, when Imam poisons Shadul, there is a moment that intimates *śānta*:
> "The forest was silent. Imam felt that a part of him had died with Shadul."
But this is not *nirveda*; it is *śoka* (grief)a *karuṇa* so intense that it stumbles at the threshold of *śānta* without entering.
---
Chapter V: The Absence of Rasa and New Forms of Rasa
Dalit literature's greatest challenge to *rasa* theory is that it is a literature of *abhāva* (absence)absence of food, of clothing, of shelter, of dignity, of rights. *Rasa* theory is a theory of *ānanda* (aesthetic pleasure). How does *ānanda* emerge from *abhāva*? This question marks the limit of *rasa* theory.
Umesh Solanki's poem "Let Something Sink into the Ground" (Lok, Jami Jāy) offers an aesthetics of *abhāva*:
> "Let the tea sink into the kettle, let the betel-nut piece turn to stone. Let the vegetables turn to stone, let the fritters become gravel."
Stone and gravelthese are *vibhāvas* of *vībhatsa*. But here, *vībhatsa* is *jīvan kā yathārth* (the truth of life). *Abhāva* reaches such a pitch that food itself becomes stone. This surreality creates a new form of *vībhatsa*.
Anish Garange's "Poster" presents another form of *abhāva*:
> "These posters with rough faces are like our mirrors. ... Posters of missing persons change faces every day."
Here, *absence* becomes *presence*. The posters of missing persons become the *mirror* of the Dalit face. This is a *vibhāva* of *adbhuta*the presence of absence. But this *adbhuta* generates not *vismaya* (wonder) but *sandeha* (doubt). The face is present, but identity is absent. Presence is there, but existence is not.
---
Conclusion: Toward a Reconsideration of Rasa Theory
Dalit literature raises several fundamental questions for *rasa* theory:
**1. Is rasa only ānanda?** Abhinavagupta defines *rasa* as *ānanda* (aesthetic delight). But Dalit literature documents not *ānanda* but *satya* (truth)pain, rage, disgust, helplessness. Can these culminate in *rasa*? If *rasa* is *ānanda*, how does the *anānanda* (non-delight) of suffering transform into *ānanda*? This question demands a reconsideration of *rasa* theory itself.
**2. The limit of sādhāraṇīkaraṇa:** *Rasa* theory universalizes the particular. Dalit literature insists on the particularthe Dalit woman's specific body, the specific violence of the caste system, the specific hunger of the leather-worker. Does this particularity undergo *sādhāraṇīkaraṇa*? If so, how? This question demands a revaluation of the process of universalization.
**3. The number of rasas:** Classical *rasa* theory enumerates nine (or, following Abhinavagupta, ten) *rasas*. Dalit literature presents new forms*śrama rasa* (the rasa of labor), *abhāva rasa* (the rasa of absence), *pratirodha rasa* (the rasa of resistance), *āstitva rasa* (the rasa of identity). Can these be accepted as *uparasas* (subsidiary rasas) or *aṅgarasas* (component rasas), or as *new rasas* altogether? This question demands an expansion of *rasa* theory.
**4. The politics of āsvāda:** *Rasa* theory rests on the concept of the *sahṛdaya*one capable of universalization, one who can maintain aesthetic distance. Can the reader of Dalit literaturewhether Dalit or notmaintain such distance? Is *āsvāda* of pain possible? If possible, what is its ethics? Does the *āsvāda* of pain risk reproducing the violence it represents? This question foregrounds the politics of aesthetic experience.
This anthologyMaithili translations of Telugu, Gujarati, and Odia Dalit literaturereveals both the limits and possibilities of *rasa* theory. On one hand, this literature demonstrates the inadequacy of classical *rasa* theorythe traditional frameworks of *raudra*, *vībhatsa*, and *karuṇa* cannot fully account for the *āsvāda* of this literature. On the other hand, this literature reveals the potential for expanding *rasa* theory*śrama*, *abhāva*, *pratirodha*, *āstitva* as new *sthāyibhāvas* could generate new forms of *rasa*.
Ultimately, the most significant question this literature poses is: is this literature for the *sahṛdaya's āsvāda*, or for the *sahṛdaya's awakening*? If *āsvāda*, what is its nature? If *awakening*, what is its aesthetic? These questions remain open before Indian literary theory, and this anthology poses them with unprecedented intensity.
The translator's note to *Friends Forever* (Jigiri) observes: "This translation is not merely literary or linguistic; it is aware that no culture can be separated from its language." This holds true for *rasa* theory as well: *no literature can be separated from its theory of rasa*. Dalit literature demands a *new rasa theory*one that recognizes *labor*, *absence*, *resistance*, *identity* as *sthāyibhāvas*, one that explores *āsvāda* not through *distance* but through *proximity*, one that seeks not the transformation of *pain* into *pleasure* but the *āsvāda* of *pain's truth*.
This anthology marks a significant milestone in that search for a *new rasa theory*.
---
*Critic's Note*: This appraisal employs the classical framework of Indian *rasa* theory critically, not dogmatically. It recognizes *rasa* theory not as a closed system of rules but as a living, evolving tradition of thought about aesthetic experience. Dalit literature does not mark the end of *rasa* theory but calls for its renewal, its expansion, its rebirth.
**Canonical Maithili Literature and the Dalit**
In Vidyapati's Shringar-poetry -the highest standard of Maithili literature -Dalit life is was said to be **absent**, however the parallel literature of Maithili proved that it was not (See Annexure-1- Vidyapatis verses, from the Vidyapati Padavali edited by Nagendranath Gupta). Modern Maithili poets wrote from a Brahmin-Kayastha perspective in which Dalit reality remained **peripheral**.
No independent tradition of **"Dalit literature"** has been established in Maithili -as Namdeo Dhasal and Daya Pawar in Marathi, Bhimanna in Telugu, Omprakash Valmiki in Hindi.
The reason: in the Mithila region the Dalit communities -Musahar, Dusadh, Dhobi, Chamar -were historically **denied literacy**. The opportunity to build a written literary tradition was simply never provided. **Oral traditions** -folk songs, stories -existed, but they were never transformed into **written canonical literature**.
**Videha's Intervention**
Facing this historical absence, Videha's strategy is **two-tiered**:
**Immediate strategy**: bringing translations of Dalit literature from other Indian languages and making Maithili readers familiar with the **taste, language, and politics** of Dalit literature.
**Long-term strategy**: the **emergence of Maithili Dalit writers** inspired by these translations -who will write in their own language, from their own experience.
---
6. Translation Theory: Three Philosophies in Practice
In this project -whether consciously or unconsciously -**three different translation philosophies** have been applied:
**First** -**Foreignization** (Lawrence Venuti's strategy of maintaining the foreignness of the original): "Laanda," "Avva," "Mankenapuvvu," "Alisamma" -these were **translated not at all, merely transliterated**. The reader was **drawn towards** the original culture.
**Second** -**Domestication** (in which the original is assimilated into the target language's culture): "revolutionary act," "accumulated pain," "objectification" -these were translated into language **familiar to Maithili readers**.
**Third** -**Testimonial translation** (in which evidence of pain is presented in the target language without destroying it): "beaten with a stick," "wood burning in the hungry stove," "spine that has not bent" -these are poetic evidence that retains its **judicial force** in Maithili.
The **balanced use** of all three philosophies makes this project **excellent**.
---
7. Potential: The Planting of a New Poetic Tradition
The most important long-term contribution of this project may be that it **inspires Maithili Dalit writers**. When the Musahar, Dusadh, Chamar, Pasi -the Dalit communities of Mithila -see Dalit literature in their language, when they understand that their life-reality **can be expressed literarily** -then self-writing (*auto-writing*) will become possible.
The **"Vidhan Parishad" canonical pressure**'s resistance -Videha's Dalit translations present **alternative standards** to the Maithili Sahitya Akademi canon. What literature is "worthy" of being canonical -it expands that definition.
---
Final Conclusion
Audre Lorde writes in *The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action*: *"Poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity."* For Dalit poetry this is literally true.
Videha's Dalit literature translation project -from this comprehensive perspective -works simultaneously on **five levels**:
**Linguistic level**: **Bridge-building** between Telugu, Gujarati, Odia, and Maithili.
**Literary level**: **Entry of the Dalit voice** into the Maithili canon -with new poetic principles.
**Cultural level**: **Preservation** of the cultural memory of various Dalit communities -the Qalandars' bear-dancing, the cobblers' Laanda-knowledge, the Dalit woman's sari's edge.
**Political level**: Showing the Maithili reader the **pan-Indian reality** of Dalit oppression -with the message that the **Dalit of Mithila** and the **Dalit of Andhra** are partners in the same fate.
**Historical level**: The **planting of seeds** of a Maithili Dalit literary tradition -which will not itself be Videha's translations, but the Maithili Dalit writing inspired by them.
In Basudev Sunani's words -this is the literary form of that **vow**:
*"Here a seed has vowed to germinate *
*with the wish to make everything green."*
**This seed has been sown.**
The soil in which it has been sown is the soil of Mithila. The seed that has been sown is the seed of **truth, of justice, of human dignity, and of the Dalit voice**.
And the tree that will grow -that will be the tree of **Maithili Dalit literature** -with its roots in the soil of Mithila, its branches in the thought of Ambedkar and Bhimanna, and its leaves made green by the energy of Videha's Parallel Literature Movement.
Annexure-1- Vidyapatis verses, from the Vidyapati Padavali edited by Nagendranath Gupta
Translation from Maithili: *Vidyapatis Bidesiya* [Original Maithili Gajendra Thakur; English Translation: Gajendra Thakur] (The Exiles Song)
There exists a parallel universe to Vidyapati's *Bidesiya* the Maithili plays of Vidyapatis *Nach* tradition. This universe includes the Ramkhelavan Mandal of the village Katghatra, in Shivajinagar block, Samastipur district, along with Bindeshwar Mandal. There, the Maithili chorus would rise with songs like "Mother, oh Mother, get me a gun, for I shall be a soldier"a sentiment that still echoes in peoples hearts. This troupe would stage verse-plays such as *Reshma-Chuhar*, *Sheat-Vasant* (Winter-Spring), *Alha-Udal*, and *Natua Dayal*.
From Purnia, the team performing *Piya Desantar* (Maithili *Bidesiya*) would travel to places like Supaul, Saharsa, and Samastipur. They would perform plays like *Hasan Husan*. The Ramraksha Choudhary Natyakala Parishad, from the village Gayaghat, Kariyan Panchayat, Post Vaidyanathpur, Samastipur district, took Vidyapatis plays all the way to Gorakhpur. Other plays staged by this troupe include *Laungiya Merchai*, *Vidyapati*, *Chini ka Laddoo*, and *Basat*.
While Bhojpuri literature is less rich than Maithili in terms of *quantity*, in terms of *quality*, it surpasses Maithili in several domains. I speak of this in the context of Bhikhari Thakurs *Bidesiya* from Bhojpuri. Bhikhari Thakur lived as a migrant in Calcutta, and when he returned, he wandered from village to village, singing his sorrows with such poignant force that his *Bidesiya* play was born. In Mithila, migration is a recent phenomenon; villages stand deserted. The people of Mithila have spread to every corner of the country. But earlier, the kind of mass migration seen in the Bhojpuri region was unknown in Mithila. Migration was largely limited to Morang, which is part of the Mithilanchal region of Nepal. Consequently, there is a significant lack of detailed folk narratives in Maithili. What exists is not the story of a folk hero, but rather the elaborate, often cumbersome, depictions of epic heroes in Maithilinothing comparable to Bhikhari Thakurs *Bidesiya*. Consider the narrative of *Salahes*. It transcends regional boundaries: Salahes transforms from king to thief, and from thief to king. Similarly, Chudamal crosses regional limits; where Salahes becomes king, Chudamal becomes a thief, and where Salahes is called a thief, Chudamal is known as a king or a powerful figure. Yet, no research has been conducted on these figures.
In this context, while examining the verses of Vidyapatis *Padavali*, a variety of songs appeared before me. Most of them contained descriptions of the pangs of separation between loversfar removed from the core concept of *Bidesiya*, which is migration born of economic necessity. It was then I found some pure *Bidesiya* verses, which Vidyapati called *Piya-desantar* (Beloved gone to another land). Most of these were naturally found in Vidyapatis *Nepal Padavali* and one in a collection edited by Nagendranath Gupta. Morang, being a part of Mithila located in Nepal and historically known for out-migration, is a likely reason for this.
Based on this foundation, this conceived play is presented.
---
Vidyapatis *Piya Desantar*
Scene 1
On stage, our *Bidesiya* (the migrant) is bidding farewell to go work abroad, while a woman (the wife) sings. Amidst the song, a traveler appears. On another side of the stage, thieves are lurking. On yet another side, the *Kotwal* (constable) sits with a superior air, his hands placed on his belly, clad in a spotless white dhoti.
**In Raga Dhanashi** (from the Vidyapati *Padavali* obtained from Nepal):
*Ham yuvati, pati gelah bides.*
*Lag nahi basae padausihu les.*
I am a young woman, and my husband has gone to a foreign land. Not a trace of a neighbor remains nearby.
*Sasu nanand kichuao nahi jaan.*
*Ankhi rataundhi, sune na kaan.*
My mother-in-law and sister-in-law understand nothing. Their eyes are clouded, and their ears do not hear.
*Jaagah pathik, jaah janu bhor.*
*Rati andhar, gaam bad chor.*
O traveler, stay awake, thinking it is dawn. The night is dark, the village is full of thieves.
*Sapanehu bhaaor na dea kotbaar.*
*Paolehu lote na kare bichaar.*
Even in a dream, the constable does not keep watch. And if you trip, he gives no thought.
*Nrip ithi kaahu karathi nahi saati.*
*Purakh mahat sab hamar sajaati.*
The king here punishes no one. All the great men are of my own kin.
*Vidyapati kavi eh rasa gaab.*
*Ukutihi bhaav janaab.*
The poet Vidyapati sings this rasa. Through this verse, the emotion is made known.
Vidyapati, the poet, enters. A man in a white dhoti arrives, accompanied by a poor man. The *Kotwal* instinctively delivers a judgment in favor of the man in the white dhoti. The young woman seated at the other corner of the stage wails in despair. The last four lines of the song are sung by the poet Vidyapati.
Scene 2
The young woman has opened a shop, symbolically. From the other side, the mother-in-law and sister-in-law depart. As a traveler approaches to make a purchase, the young woman begins to sing. After each line, Vidyapati appears on stage, explains the meaning, and then dissolves into the darkness. However, for the final line, Vidyapati sings, and the young woman then elaborates on its meaning.
**In Raga Malava** (from the Vidyapati *Padavali* obtained from Nepal):
*Badi juri ehi taruk chhaahari, thaame thaame bas gaam.*
The shade of this tree is most cool. Villages are settled here and there.
*Ham ekasari, pia desantar, nahi durajana naam.*
I am all alone, my beloved is in a foreign land; the name of no wicked person is known here.
*Pathik he, etha leh bisaraam.*
O traveler, rest here.
*Jat besaahab kichhu na mahagh, sabe mil ehi thaam.*
Whatever you wish to buy, nothing is expensive. Everything is found here.
*Sasu nahi ghar, par parijan nanand sahaje bhor.*
My mother-in-law is not at home, my relatives are far away, and my sister-in-law is simple by nature.
*Etahu pathik vimukh jaab tab anaaiti mori.*
Even after all this, if you were to leave disappointed, then I would be truly helpless.
*Bhan Vidyapati sun tane yuvati je pur parak aas.*
Vidyapati says: Listen, O young woman, you fulfill the hopes of strangers.
Scene 3
Vidyapati is not present in this song. The young womans sister-in-law is seen turning away a traveler. Seeing this, the young woman is reminded of her own beloved, gone to a foreign land. Addressing her sister-in-law and a friend, she sings. A friend interprets the meaning after each line.
**In Raga Dhanashi** (from the Vidyapati *Padavali* obtained from Nepal):
*Paratah parades, parahik aas.*
*Vimukh na kara, abas dis baas.*
In a foreign land, one is always at the mercy of strangers. One should not turn anyone away. Shelter must certainly be given.
*Etahi jaana sakhi piatam-kathaa.*
O friend, understand this as the tale of my beloved.
*Bhal mand nandan he mane anumani.*
*Pathike na bola tutali baani.*
O dear sister-in-law, judging right from wrong in your mind, do not speak harshly to the traveler.
*Charan-pakhaaran, aasan-daan.*
*Madhurahu vachane kara samadhaan.*
Wash his feet, offer him a seat. With sweet words, console him.
*E sakhi anuchit ete dur jae.*
*Aor kara jat adhik badai.*
O friend, it is not right for him to go so far away. Instead, sing his praises even more.
Scene 4
The young woman and her sister-in-law have arrived in the city. When a traveler comes seeking shelter, the young woman sings, and the sister-in-law explains the meaning after each line. In the middle, four lines are sung from backstage without explanation. Then the young woman continues singing, and the sister-in-law again provides the meaning. At the end, Vidyapati appears and sings the final two lines. As the scene ends, the sister-in-law remarks, The day I was turning away the traveler, you did not approve. But today, why did you not give shelter to this traveler?
**In Raga Kolara** (from the Vidyapati *Padavali* obtained from Nepal):
*Ham ekasari, piatam nahi gaam.*
*Te mohi taratam deite thaam.*
I am all alone, my beloved is not in the village. Therefore, I am torn about where to offer shelter for the night.
*Anatahu katahu deaitahũ baas.*
*Dosar na dekha padaosio paas.*
If anyone were nearby, I would show you shelter somewhere else.
*Chhamah he pathik, kara hame kaah.*
*Baas nagar bhami anatahu chaah.*
Forgive me, O traveler, and go. Seek shelter elsewhere in the city.
*Aantar paantar, saanjhak ber.*
*Parades basa anaaiti heri.*
The frontier is vast, it is evening time. Staying in a foreign land, one must consider the future.
*Mora man he khanahi khan bhaang.*
*Jauvan gopab kat manasij jaag.*
My mind breaks from time to time. How long can I hide my youth while desire awakens?
*Chal chal pathik kara pa kaah.*
*Baas nagar bhami anatahu chaah.*
Go, go traveler, do... what? Seek shelter elsewhere in the city.
*Saat pach ghar tanhi saji del.*
*Pia desantar aantar bhel.*
I had prepared the house for him, seven or five homes worth. But the beloved went to a foreign land, and distance has grown between us.
*Baarah varsh avadhi kae gel.*
*Chaari varsh tanhi gela bhel.*
He was to be gone for twelve years. Four of those years have now passed.
*Ghor payodhar jaamini bhed.*
*Je karatab taa karah pariched.*
The clouds are thick, the night is deep. Whatever is to be done, decide accordingly.
*Bhanai Vidyapati naagari-riiti.*
*Vyaaj-vachane upajaab piriiti.*
Vidyapati says: Such is the custom of the city. With seemingly harsh words, love is actually fostered.
Scene 5
Vidyapati is not in this scene either. A traveler arrives, but the mother-in-law and sister-in-law, seeing no one, hesitate to offer shelter and move on. The young woman sings.
**In Raga Ghanashi** (from the Vidyapati *Padavali* obtained from Nepal):
*Uchit basae mor manmath chor.*
*Cheria burhia kare agor.*
My situation is fitting for the thief named Cupid. An old female servant keeps watch.
*Baarah varakh avadhi kae gel.*
*Chaari varakh tanhi gelaan bhel.*
He was to be gone for twelve years. Four of those years have now passed.
*Baas chaahit hoa pathikuha laaj.*
*Sasu nanand nahi achae samaaj.*
The traveler is ashamed to seek shelter. Neither mother-in-law nor sister-in-law is here for company.
*Saat paanch ghar tanhi saji del.*
*Pia desantar aantar bhel.*
I had prepared the house for him, seven or five homes worth. But the beloved went to a foreign land, and distance has grown between us.
*Padeos vaas joenasat bhel.*
*Thaane thaane avayav sabe gel.*
The neighbors house now feels a hundred yojanas away. All my family and relatives have left for far-off places.
*Nukaabia timirak saandhi.*
*Padausini deae phadaki baandhi.*
The crowd of people has vanished into the darkness. The neighbor-woman has latched her gate.
*Mora man he khanahi khan bhaag.*
*Gaman gopab kat manmath jaag.*
My mind breaks from time to time. How long can I hide my departure while Cupid awakens?
Scene 6
In this scene as well, there is no sister-in-law, no mother-in-law, and no Vidyapati. A guest arrives just as the rains begin to pour. The young woman sings.
**In Raga Dhanashi** (from the Vidyapati *Padavali* obtained from Nepal):
*Apana mandir baisali achhalihũ, ghar nahi dosar keva.*
I was sitting in my own home, there was no one else inside.
*Tahikane pahia paahon aael barisae laagal deva.*
Just then, a traveler-guest arrived, and the heavens began to pour.
*Ke jaan ki bolati pisun patausini vachanak bhel avakaase.*
Who knows what the gossipy neighbor will say, now that she has the opportunity to speak.
*Ghor andhaar, nirantar dhaara divasahi rajani bhaane.*
The darkness is deep, the rain incessant. Day seems like night.
*Kanone kahbah hame, ke patiaet, jagat vidit panchabaane.*
To whom shall I tell this, and who would believe it? For the deeds of Kamadeva are known throughout the world.
Scene 7
On one side of the stage, the mother-in-laws body is being carried out after her death, and the stage goes dark. When light returns, the sister-in-law is being taken away by her in-laws. A traveler stands among the audience. Gesturing toward the audience, the young woman sings. Vidyapati explains the meaning after each line. For the final two lines, Vidyapati both sings and provides the meaning, repeating them several times.
**From the *Padavali* edited by Nagendranath Gupta:**
*Saasu jaraatur bheli.*
*Nanandi achhali seho saasur geli.*
The mother-in-law has grown ill. The sister-in-law has also gone to her in-laws.
*Taisan na dekhia koi.*
*Rayani jagaae sambhaasan hoi.*
There is no one to be seen. For conversation, one would have to stay awake all night.
*Ehi pure ehe bebaare.*
*Kaahuk keo nahi kare puchhaare.*
This is the custom in this city. No one asks about anyone else.
*Mori piatamka kahaba.*
*Hame ekasari dhanikat din rahaba.*
To whom shall I tell my beloved? I am alone; how many more days must I live?
*Pathik, kahaba mor kanta.*
*Hama sani ramani na tej rasamantaa.*
O traveler, tell my lord. A woman like me does not long retain her youthful zest.
*Bhanai Vidyapati gaabe.*
*Bhami-bhami virahini pathuk bujhaabe.*
Vidyapati sings. The woman in separation wanders and wanders, explaining the path to the traveler.
As Vidyapati sings, he seems to stumble. As darkness begins to spread, a figure emerges from the shadows towards the young woman. Is it she? The one from *Piya Desantar*?! Yes! Or is it not?!
A blurring occurs*Piya Desantar* dissolvingand amidst the music on stage, a final tableau is struck.
This concept of *Piya Desantar* is thus presented before the discerning audience. Amidst the current plight of the Maithili migrants (*Bidesiya*), this offering is presented with deep respect to the great poet, Vidyapati.
---
*(Based on Vidyapatis verses, from the Vidyapati Padavali edited by Nagendranath Gupta.)*
अपन मंतव्य editorial.staff.videha@zohomail.in पर पठाउ।