Indian literature is one of my favourite genres, particularly regional Indian literature translated into English. These books offer a peep into the worlds that despite being a part of India, are so different from my own. It is not just a matter of geography or even of a different language; it’s the combined effect of these two and several other factors that paint that world in a unique manner, which makes us conscious of its strangeness and familiarity at once.
Gopinath Mohanty’s Harijan, originally written in Odia, takes us into the world of Mehentars- a community of untouchables, who clean latrines. Theirs is a blighted existence where life is lived one day at a time, with no future to look forward to. Each day is coloured by the same misery- while their mornings marked by the horrendous task of carrying excreta on their heads, their evenings are drowned in liquor.
Just next to their basti (slum) lies the ‘big house’ of Avinash Babu, where lives are lived in complete contrast to these slum dwellers. Avinash Babu is planning to evict the mehentars from the land on which their huts stands. What happens when those who own nothing are left with even less?
The central figure of the plot is the fourteen year old Puni, who has to take up her mother’s job of cleaning latrines when she falls ill. Her life is transformed, on her first day at work, when she realises her fate as a mehentrani.
How much can a fifteen-year-old comprehend about the future? Puni was restless to begin her life. … She was going to work, like her friends; she world earn her living, not hang like a stone from her mother’s neck….
Puni crouched low, shivering, and looked in to the darkness. The stink rose in waves to hit her. Her senses were reeling. The everyday life of mehentrani lay spreadeagled before her, waiting. This was to be her life now! Lost to the world, she surrendered herself to this hell…
This is how she would have to live- carrying basketfuls of shit, with her head lowered to the ground, so she could feed herself and remain alive. This was God’s gift given to her on the day she was born!
This pivotal point in Puni’s life is the most remarkable part of the book- the way Puni encounters her fate, the way she finds herself thrust into this horrendous livelihood and the trauma that it does to the mind of young Puni. She is transformed, and she can never be the same. She resigns to this fate, for she knows now that life doesn’t hold anything better for the likes of her. Mohanty has painted the world of mehentars with great poignancy. He shows how these people are caught in a vicious circle, and that any attempt to uplift themselves is bound to fail.
The general tone throughout the book is sad and gloomy, in accordance with the events taking place in the lives of the characters. I feel the lives of the people living in the ‘big house’ could have been portrayed better and more richly. They seemed to be mere lifeless characters. The characters from basti, however, have been very well drawn. Despite this being a translated work, I enjoyed Mohanty’s writing, particularly the use of colloquial language. However, I feel that a glossary of the Odia words used in the book should have been provided to enhance the reading experience. All in all, I enjoyed reading this book and I definitely recommend it.
My Rating: **** (4/5)
What do you think about this book? Have you read anything from Odia literature? Do you enjoy reading regional literature too? Do share your views. Thanks.
I was kindly sent a copy by the publisher in exchange for an honest review. Views expressed are entirely personal and unbiased.
Also check out my review of another masterpiece of Odia literature, Six and A Third Acres.
Books N Myself 