There was an almirah in my grandfather’s house. Of course there were many other interesting things there viz. a prism, a magnate, neatly arranged sparkling test tubes, a little flask with a cute little stopper, a brass compass, a room that was always kept locked, a grave of frogs in the garden, a turtle that my uncle used to spot during the monsoons and never I, a huge field behind the house where one could spot a buck and a peacock sometimes, a dingy room covered with corrugated tin sheet in which my uncle used to keep his barbell, plates and dumb bells, two nun chucks, a pair of badminton rackets dangling from nails placed symmetrically on the left and right of a door, two long wooden almirahs full of treasures that brought water to my mind’s mouth (some of them still tantalize me so much that I want to just ‘borrow’ them), and that brings me back to the topic of almirahs.
So, there was that almirah in the room where my grandfather used to sit in his long armchair. There was the provision of lock in that almirah but I never saw an actual lock on it. Who’d dare to open it in his presence? My interest in that almirah dates from the time period that begins a couple of years after his passing away. I don’t remember how, but it so happened that by some accident I got a glimpse of its top two shelves full of books, some of them carefully covered with brown paper, others with colourful jackets beckoning me with their invisible fingers. I never knew or suspected their existence. I don’t know how I convinced my eldest aunt who had inherited the room, the almirah and the books, to let me touch them with my fingers made of human leather. I had a reputation for destroying things, especially those that are valued by the civilized people all over the world. I sure must have behaved very gentlemanly for over a month to deserve a liberty like that. In fact I somehow managed to please my aunt enough in the course of time to be blessed with the gift of one collection of short stories that came from that treasure house of books. I have kept that book safe till today.
Before that I just used to take her permission to read a book and sat in that very room to finish it, or to read as much as I could in one sitting and then return for more in my next sitting. I vividly remember two books from that collection even today. It becomes important because: one, I have a notorious memory, and two I did not know till very recent past that I had remembered not only the books but also their story lines, and in one case, probably a few photographic plates within one of them. The book with those photographs was Prithvi Vallabh.
The other book was Shivprasad Mishra “Rudra”‘s Bahti Ganga. I had actually forgotten the name of the second book and everything about its existence until I bought that book online one day. By the time I had read the third and the fourth stories, those of Dataram Naagar and Bhangar Bhikshuk respectively, I knew where and when I had read those stories for the first time. No, it was not déjà vu. You may want to ask how I can be so sure about that. Well, I have experienced that unsettling feeling too, and I know the difference between reminiscence and déjà vu.
For want of a more appropriate category let’s place it in that of historical fiction. So, this series of short stories in the form of quasi-historical fiction was first published in 1952. There are seventeen stories in the collection starting with the birth of Chait Singh, who would become the king of Varanasi in 1770. The author did not want the reader to take it as merely a “story”, and he makes it amply clear by giving it a very significant title that also performs the function of connecting it to the Hindu tradition of beginning an auspicious enterprise with the praise of Lord Ganesha. “Gaiye Ganpatii jagbandan” is from the hymn of praise for Lord Ganesha from Saint-poet Goswami Tullsidas’s Vinay Patrika. The poet had spent a long and significant part of his active writing life in Varanasi. The poet, the poem, the phrase and its strategic positioning perform multiple cohesive and defining functions before the reader starts reading the text. The titles of most of the stories are lines or phrases from famous folk songs or poems e.g. “Ghode pe hauda au hathi pe jeen”, “Nagar jala kalapaniya”, “” Sooli upar sej piya ki”, “Sivnath-Bahdursingh ka”, “Ehi thaiyan jhulni herani”, “Chait ki nindiya” etc.
The next story is again from a phase of Chait Singh’s life. It’s from 1781, the year in which the King’s loyal subjects had routed Hasting’s force and had made forced him to flee ignominiously from the city. The story introduces Dataram Naagar, and the next story that takes place nearly two years after that performs the function of placing him in the tradition of Babu Nanhkusingh Najeeb, the hero of Jaishankar Prasad’s short story “Gunda“. The author makes the outlaws of the East India Company or of British era hero of many of his stories. In doing so he follows the tradition of Prasad’s story mentioned above. In one more way he follows the pattern set in “Gunda”. He makes a courtesan or a prostitute one of the important characters of many of his stories.
Before we go any further, let me mention here for those who know the city of Varanasi, its lanes, ghats, temples and general layout, for such readers these stories are of additional interest. “Rudra Kashikey” belongs to the city and his prose is steeped in his love for Kashi, another name for Varanasi. And yes, unlike what I did at the end of the previous sentence, he does not explain all that gives a strong local flavour to his stories. He leaves it to the reader’s previous knowledge of the city, or to his willingness to research and understand it better. His target reader is definitely not in the West.
The events in fourth story take place six months after Nagar was sentenced to imprisonment at a jail in the Andaman and Nicobar islands, i.e. in 1784. It’s the story of Bhangad Bhikshuk, a rebel friend of Dataram and the man responsible for the graves of Englishmen near Chait Singh’s palace at Shivala. Thus we see that the first four stories are more or less interlinked. They can and should be read as one unit. The author has probably such intentions when he refuses to put his work in the pigeon holes of either a novel or a short story. It’s both, and more.
The story of Dataram Nagar and that of his friend do have a definite love angle. In fact, many of the stories in the collection are woven around the theme of heterosexual love, expressed or unexpressed. The next love story, judged from the contextual evidences, especially due to the mention of the name of the District Magistrate Mr. Bird, is set in 1809, the year of great Hindu-Muslim communal riots in the city and introduces Prasidha Narayan Singh, the King’s brother and Rakiya aka Multani, a Muslim girl of eleven or twelve years. For Rakiya to even desire for the King’s brother is impossible. She does the impossible and loves him till the end of her life at the age of fifty-eight in September 1858. The Shivnath-Bahadursingh story is set in nearly the same time period (approximately 100 years before 1952, i.e. around 1852), and is narrated by an old man, instead of an omniscient third person narrator.
“Ehi Thaiyan Jhulni Herani O Rama” and “Ram-kaj Chanbhangu Sharira” are set during the Boycott of foreign clothes in the Non-Cooperation Movement, more specifically before and after 6 April 1921. Dulari and her love for Tunnu feature in both of them but in the second story another love story from the time of Ram Halla on 15 April 1891 is added towards the end. The master narrative of “Mrisha Na Hoi Dev Rishi Vaani” takes place on 15 August 1947. The story is about Baba Kinaram’s curse to King Chet Singh in 1770’s or 80’s. So, the stories cover nearly two centuries of the history of Varanasi, from mid-eighteenth century to mid-twentieth century. Kashiraj Chait Singh is a significant presence and although not a protagonist, he joins many stories of the book. From kings to the common man, “Rudra Kashikey” succeeds in bringing them together to tell the story of one city he loved, a city that has so many names: Kashi, Varanasi, Banaras, Benares, Avimukt, Mahashmashan, Anandvan and many more
Mishra, Shivprasad ‘Rudra’. Bahti Ganga. New Delhi: Radhakrishna, 2010. Print.
rajnishmishravns 