Anna Vadgaonkar

Those who have been reading this blog for some time will know that one of the things I mourn is that some of the great Marathi books have never been translated in any other language (the main reason I started writing about Marathi books). Keeping that in mind, here's my attempt at translating "Anna Vadgaonkar" from "Vyakti ani Valli" by Pu. La. Deshpande.

Before continuing, be warned that the following post has two big handicaps: One, it is a translation, and two, it is a translation by me. You have been warned:

Anna Vadgaonkar

The class was laughing their guts out. Those listening from outside would have thought that Prof. Vadgaonkar is performing a stand-up act instead of teaching Sanskrit in class. You won't believe it, but he was teaching Kalidas' tragedy, “Ajavilap” (अजविलाप). But this was a normal day for us students. “Wow! गृहिणी सचिवः! How great is Kalidas! How should a wife be? My good fellows, don't laugh, don't laugh. What a tragic scene! Indumati is sprawled on the ground like this. Aja is mourning – मरणं प्रकृतिः – short life my good fellows, short life. Aja is sitting like this -” showing us exactly how Aja is sitting, Prof. Vadgaonkar continued his lecture(?). “Suppose, this table is Indumati. Aja is petting her on the back like this, crying – What a Love! Modern people like you won't understand -”

And his Sanskrit class used to go like this. I learnt Sanskrit from him for two years. Diminutive stature, long yellow coat (like Parsis used to wear), pagdi on head. He always reminded me of the Dipoty (Deputy) who took my third grade's exam. He wouldn't stay on any point more than two-three minutes. But he was extremely passionate about Sanskrit literature. “Take your authors of today- I don't even remember their names – how bad they write. No literature. Consider Baan (बाण), consider Kalidas, Bhavbhuti. Great! Great! My good fellows, they were great!”

He used to teach in multiple languages. The class would start in English, and slowly slip into Marathi. Then he would remember that there are some Gujarati students in class who don't understand Marathi, and, “Oh. What I was telling to these Marathi fellows was... you see my Gujarati fellows,” and back to English. Every three-four words would be followed by “my good fellows”. After every five-ten minutes, would be “not for Gujarati fellows”. And suddenly, “Do you understand, Deshpande? You won't get any other professor with so much passion for teaching. Not just Sanskrit, I teach you English, I teach you about life. Go to any other college, no stuff. Have you seen how that Prof. *** teaches Sanskrit. See my style. I get homogeneous with my teaching. Write down, “homogeneous”. You won't hear such English words anywhere else”. And this would be a normal stuff, too. He would use some multisyllabic English word, and would make us write it down.

Once, He was teaching us “Mruchchhkatik” (मृच्छकटिक). “Oh! How beautiful was our Vasantsena. Not anaemic like her (pointing to a girl in class). Put down “anaemic”. Good word, write it down. So beautiful, even your Greta Garbo would pale in comparison. And how Shudraka has portrayed Shakar... Shakar is the King of Villains! And how that %^&$ (girls blush at this word) Shakar tortures Vasantsena... Pity! Pity! And see our Charudatta. Great! Not like your modern heroes – no butterfly mentality.” I find many such words written down in in our notebooks [rambhoru (रंभोरू)= banana-tree-thighed-one] But even then, students loved Prof. Vadgaonkar. He used to get emotional when talking about “our Shakuntala”, “our Vasantsena”, “our Malavika”. All the students were laughing when he taught us the scene of Shakuntala leaving her home. But he had tears in his eyes. “You are kids. When your daughter leaves your home – great agony. Write down – agony. Correct word.” Everybody in college used to call him “Anna”. Though he tried to act like an angry teacher in class, he would tell everybody during exam, “just scribble something on the paper, so that I can give you 30 marks. If you can't write anything else, just write down Ramraksha. Just don't give me blank paper.”

He used to take students to his house. “Rama, these are my students.” he used to introduce us proudly to his wife.

“Sir, I didn't understand 'Shankarbhashya'. Can you teach me again?” I once asked him.

“You know what... even I don't understand Shankarbhashya.”

I just kept staring at him.

He retired when I entered “Junior” class. All students arranged a send-off for him.

Prof. Vadgaonkar started his speech, “My good fellows...” And he just couldn't continue after that. After just “my good fellows...” he had to sit down.


P.S. More translations will be posted depending on response to this post.

About Pu La...

Purushottam Lakshman Deshpande (November 8, 1919 - June 12, 2000), called Pu. La. or Bhai affectionately, was one of the most accomplished Marathi artists (and believe me when I say that there is quite a competition for top spots in that category). Apart from being a famous writer, he was an orator, actor, director and music director, not to mention a very talented musician and singer.

His writings span across various fields. He is most famous for his humorous portraits (of lives of mumbaikars and others), and other humorous writings, but he has also written plays, character portraits, travelogues, dramas, screenplays and dialogues for movies. He also translated "Pygmalion", "The Old Man and The Sea" and many other famous works into Marathi. He brought "One Man Act" to Marathi theatre, and many of his acts are still remembered.

He is often compared to George Bernard Shaw or P. G. Wodehouse, but his brand of humour (when he shifts the upper layer of comedy just a bit to show the tragedy it covers in many cases), in my opinion is almost unique. Avoiding temptation to write a long post on my favourite author, I guess it should be enough to say that he is one of the leading humour writers in Maharashtra, the state which has produced many famous writers in this field over the ages.

The "Pu. La. Deshpande Foundation" is a charitable foundation, which he started with his wife, Sunitabai Deshpande, herself a very good writer. From the royalties the couple got from their books, they used to keep just the money needed for their necessities, and pass on the rest of the amount to the foundation.

In the last century, at least three generations on maharashtrians have known PuLa's writing intimately. It is very hard to find a Marathi household which does not have at least one of his books (and it will be very hard to find a true Marathi student, who does not carry at least one of his books when he flies outside India). His writings and plays are so much part of Marathi people's psyche, that people can recite the whole dialogues by heart.

If you think I am exaggerating, my post on one of his famous books, "Vyakti ani Valli" is the most popular one on my book blog, and has more views than the second and third posts combined. And I am sure the same fate awaits my next post on that blog about "Asa Me Asami".

In short, though the term "Maharashtrache Ladke Vyaktimatva" (Maharashtra's Favourite Personality, is the closest translation) has now lost the meaning due to political overuse, this is one person who truly deserved the epithet.


- The Great Eagle Has Spoken


P.S. Maharashtra Times has a great collection of quotes, poems and incidents from PuLa's life. A must read for anyone who understands Marathi.

Quote of The Day:

There is an instrument called "divider" in pencilbox. It did nothing except dividing me and mathematics.
-P. L. Deshpande, Bigari te Matric

Mrityunjayakar

When I wrote the post about Pu La Deshpande as an introduction to the review of "Vyakti ani Valli", one of my friends suggested I make it a regular feature on my blog.

Given my schedule (and other excuses I can give if you want), here finally is the second post in the series, about Shivaji Sawant (August 31, 1940 – September 18, 2002), the author of one of the most celebrated Marathi novels, "Mrityunjaya".

At the age of 27, Shivaji Sawant wrote his famous novel, "मृत्युंजय" (Mrityunjaya - translation: "Conqueror of Death") about the life of Karna, one of the most complex characters in whole Mahabharat (which is filled with grey shaded individuals). The novel is in semi-autobiographical form, with many other characters near Karna telling the story of his and in turn, their lives. The novel won several accolades and awards, and was translated into 9 languages including Hindi and English (a fate I hope more Marathi books share).

He followed the success with "छावा" (Chhava - translation: Lion Cub), a novel based on the life of controversial Chhatrapati Sambhaji, the second Chhatrapati of Marathi kingdom. Sambhaji is also a very complex character, with life full of differences with his father and his father's ministers, and warring for 9 years against European and Indian enemies surrounding the kingdom as well as against his internal enemies, culminating in his torture and death at the hands of Aurangzeb. This “Warlike Prince” (as he was called by his Portugese enemies) was also a scholar and a poet, who wrote among other things, “Budhbhushanam”, a treatise on politics and other related fields.

The trioka of Shivaji Sawant's famous novels was completed by "युगंधर" (Yugandhar - yuga = Age, I am not so sure of translation) , a novel in the same mould as "Mrityunjaya" on the life of Krishna. Although Krishna is considered a God (in fact, one of the "avatars" of Vishnu), the novel concentrated on the exploits of Krishna as a leading man of his Age, a visionary with strong sense of justice and truth, shedding the layers put on the man, Krishna, by millenniums of mythology and stories.

I haven't read any of Shivaji Sawant's other novels. But the three novels I mentioned all show his prowess as an author, as well as his command on language. Apart from being thoroughly researched (even the fictional additions he made to classical Mahabharat story in his novels don't rankle), his novels are full of lyrical descriptions in true traditions of classical literature.

A former teacher, vice president of Maharashtra Sahitya Parishad and president of Baroda Sahitya Sammelan, Shivaji Sawant died of heart attack while contesting the post of president of 76th 'All India Marathi Sahitya Sammelan'.


Update: The review of Mrityujaya is up at "Lazy Habits".


- The Great Eagle Has Spoken

Quote of The Day:

A classic is classic not because it conforms to certain structural rules, or fits certain definitions (of which its author had quite probably never heard). It is classic because of a certain eternal and irrepressible freshness.
- Edith Wharton (1862 - 1937)