Ente katha kamala suraiya biography
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Kamala Surayya
Indian versemaker and originator (1934–2009)
"Madhavikutty" redirects here. Present the 1973 film, regulate Madhavikutty (film).
Kamala Surayya | |
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Kamala Das (c. 1990) | |
| Born | Kamala (1934-03-31)31 March 1934 Punnayurkulam, Ponnani taluk, Malabar Part, Madras Post, British Bharat (present-day Thrissur district, Kerala, India) |
| Died | 31 Can 2009(2009-05-31) (aged 75) Pune, Maharashtra, India |
| Resting place | Palayam Juma Masjid, Thiruvananthapuram, India |
| Pen name | Madhavikutty |
| Occupation | Poet, novelist, keep apart story writer |
| Genre | Poetry, novel, wee story, memoirs |
| Notable works | |
| Notable awards | Ezhuthachan Puraskaram, Vayalar Award, Sahitya Akademi Present, Asan Universe Prize, Inhabitant Poetry Accolade, Kent Award |
| Spouse | K.Madhav Das |
| Children | |
| Parents | |
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എന്റെ കഥ | Ente Katha
I don’t keep a journal today, but I had one during my school years. And I think I was honest but only partially open. I couldn’t risk my journal being read, could I?
And then there’s Kamala Das. A writer so blindingly honest and transparent that you flinch when you read her book. I had read about her memoir “My Story” being banned for its explicit content but it’s only when I actually started reading the book that I realized just how much.
Das’ memoir begins with recollections of her childhood years – the house she grew up in, her family members, the orthodox culture, and a society biased towards the British. She goes on to talk about her infatuations, her growing sense and understanding of sexuality, of marriage, and her ensuing depression. There are lyrical passages where I got lost in the descriptions and took me away with them, like this one.
“In Delhi, the winter is full of enchantment. The sun falls over the city gently like a sliver of butter on a piece of toast. Everything smells of the white, kind sun, not the grass alone or the berries fallen from the trees, but the children with their red cheeks roughened by the night’s chill and young men drin
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[This translated chapter is from Kamala Das’ Ente Katha, which has been one of the most controversial memoirs in Malayalam. The shock waves it produced in Kerala in the 1970s are hard to describe: she was attacked by both the liberal humanists and the leftists, abused as a harlot clad in a good housewife’s garb. It has also been celebrated as some of the most beautiful writing in Malayalam of the twentieth century. Kamala Das’ memoir in English, My Story and Ente Katha are related but distinctly different texts. Decades after, however, she rejected the memoir, claiming that it was entirely fictitious, written to please her husband who wanted her to make money from her writing.
From ‘Varahan’, Ente Katha, in Madhavikkuttiyude Krithikal Sampoornam, Kottayam: DC Books, 2009, pp. 468-72 ]
I knew my husband from childhood. He is my relative. Once he lifted me up from the ground and swung me above his had as though I were a fan. I was around six then. Like all lean-looking people, he too had a rough way of handling people and things. He laughed as he swung me round and round. This made my arms hurt but I was not displeased. Among all the kids who were playing there, after all, I alone received this honour. He used to come to the Nalappatt h