Catriona Mitchell
That it took Catriona Mitchell, born in Switzerland, and raised in UK and Australia, to edit and publish this anthology – about and by Indian women – is perhaps a statement in itself. In any case, I am glad she did. The flap describes it as a kaleidoscope of distinct and varied real-life stories, and I think that is just about accurate. Just about because I don’t know if it sufficiently captures the distinctness and the variety.
It covers pretty much every cross section that you can think of – language, age, geography, class, caste, skin colour, sexuality, and yes, circumstances and perspectives. The title is courtesy a renowned artist, feminist and environmentalist (and the niece of Sardar Vallabhai Patel) Chandralekha – a phrased she used to describe the connection between art and life. In the context of this book, I also see it as the journeys of the women who have been featured in it, and how they are all somehow connected in the struggle of just being a woman, and finding their own free expression of it.
I think it would be unfair to call them just stories – these are lives, some relatively privileged, some fighting for survival. Anita Agnihotri’s protagonist Taramoni struggles for basic sustenance amidst the vagaries of nature. Nirupama Dutt’s Devi becomes a victim of bad decisions (some by her, some by others) and regrets that she didn’t have a life like her sister’s. Salma just about manages to publish her writing while living with a husband who tries every trick in the book to get her to stop reading, let alone writing. An anonymous (and well-read) author has to deal with a physically abusive husband. Anjum Hasan’s Manjula fights with pragmatism and tenacity, willing herself to rise above her circumstances, and help others while at it.
Urvashi Butalia continues the fight in the second generation. Annie Zaidi wonders when she can stop looking over her shoulder even in a relatively safe place such as Mumbai. Tisca Chopra does a BTS of old-school, patriarchal Bollywood. Deepti Kapoor’s Mataji is a fascinating ‘Iron Lady’ who would brook no argument against her decisions, but shockingly believes in the country’s patriarchal social structures! Tishani Doshi dwells on the complexities of not choosing motherhood with some superb points of view. Sharanya Manivannan showcases her way with words while using her choices of wardrobe and adornments as a metaphor.
Some write about their own lives, some do it on behalf of mothers, grandmothers, sisters or just the sisterhood. But all of them use the scimitar of words (a phrase used by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni) to telling effect, and in most stories, the inner steel of women is evident. But I continue to wonder how one half of us could deprive the other of something they deserve. Practically every problem humanity faces is ‘man’-made, and I believe that many of its solutions will come from the empathy and intelligence that I have seen the smarter half of the species can provide.
