A View From Within

It started with a birthday gift. A book of poetry in my mother tongue. Today, I am part of another journey because of it.An anthology – a collection of selected writings that have been translated into English- is now taking form. I hope it gives joy and serenity to the readers when published.

Another wonderful translation project of a novel is taking off. The title and blurb are being discussed. The excitement of another intellectual adventure is giving me wings! The edits will begin soon. The searching for words : which will capture nuances, accommodate different reading sensibilities, transcend language barriers, convey scalpel sharp emotions, and yet remain unique!

Answering the intelligent questions of multiple editors, defending the choice of phrase or giving way gracefully, listening to the concerns of the author as her beloved child enters into a different world( Will she stumble? Will she float? Will she walk and run at ease into the readers’ heart?)….these are the challenges known only to a translator. Sometimes I reflect that being mother to two daughters- strong, self willed, opposite as chalk and cheese- has prepared me for this role. You should have no ego when it comes to this assignment. You just let the words flow through you, with a silent prayer.

My friends often ask me about how I find time to do my  translation assignments.  My answer is simple. It gives me joy, so I find the time. It energises me, so I often run to it. It is incredibly fulfilling, so it is worth the effort.

Actually, if you sit before a 200 paged novel and dream of translating it at one go, it will never happen. But if you decide to take one paragraph at a time, and one page at a time….then the mind becomes confident. It is all about our perception after all.

‘So, why don’t you write your own books?’  I grin and say that I translate better than I write! Believe me, I have tried both. The  reviews and the award long/shortlists came faster with the former!

Besides, have you ever tried to get inside another’s head? It is akin to a Psychologist’s job! And so, I translate! 😀

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Asking For More

Why are vernacular languages treated as second cousins, springing from a particularly  impoverished wing of the extended family of languages? The ones, who  if one were to use a phrase of the Dickensian era, would be found snuffling around in  workhouses, “asking for more!”

There are  volumes of screenplays being compiled in Malayalam, which delight as gems of literature. But when you search for English equivalents  from other vernaculars, apparently, no publisher commissions  such a translation.

In the Literary festival recently, a speaker quoted figures. Of the four crore Hindi speaking populace, 0.01%  is the target audience- namely, 40,000. Of these around 4000 reads books, and the literary space is dominated by them. I wonder on the figures for English literature. How many of the best sellers sell more than 4000 copies in India? I can bet that vernacular best sellers, at least in Malayalam, sell in multiples of those numbers. And the ordinary readers decide what/who/how to read.

How do we empower a powerful reading milieu? By indulging in safety zones of comfort literature-  like absolute potboilers on love, more love, more and more love? Or, give voice to themes that question our very way of existence? Who decides popularity?

Unless you introduce the readers to literature in various life enhancing hues,( for which always, they had been readers)and unless that culture becomes deep- will not mediocrity, small cliques of publishers, small close circles of critics and intellectuals decide the way we read?

What will come first- chicken or the egg? Will it start with a vision in publishing industry or will they depend on what sells currently to determine the way for future too?

I remember an anecdote  told by a teacher who was teaching about Rammohan Roy’s and William Bentick’s efforts on banning Sati. When the protectors of the Sati rite shouted that “this is our way of handling death…,” a nonchalant Bentick apparently erected a gallows next to the burning site and said, “Sure. Go ahead and push the widow into the pyre- then get ready to hang for murder. This is our way of handling death…”. Suffice to say, no woman was burnt that day.

If “our way of life” gets repeated without debate, many life enhancing views will get burnt by the fire of indifference and lack of attention. We need visionary leaders who will also lay down new pathways.

Ultimately, whether in policy making or literature, giving a voice to the voiceless, has always been a hallmark of greatness. Let Oliver Twists in many human languages get his/her due without having to beg for it. The world will be a better place due to that generosity of vision based on equality.