A daughter’s view
I’m lucky to have history professors for friends, and one of
them sent me this book as an example of what a biography could be. When I
started reading, I was compelled by the simple, emotional narrative of an
elderly woman writing her memories of her father’s life, an excellent translation from Marathi. By the end of the
book, however, I realised that it was the content and the way it was presented
that had most impressed me.
Kharemaster was an unusual person for his time because he
made sure that all his children got educated. At a time when Hindu girls were
‘married off’ at the age of eight or even younger; a time when for even a boy to
complete high school and be ‘matriculate’ was the privilege of very few, he was
determined that his daughters would get a university education. When they were
little, he worked with them himself, developing their awareness and giving them
knowledge about the world. As they grew older, he went to great extents to find
ways for them to get the best possible education.
Still, the book is not a hagiography. Kharemaster’s faults
and weaknesses, and in one case a rather shocking incident, are presented with
the same warmth and confidence as every other aspect the book covers.
Vibhavari Shirurkar was in her eighties when she wrote this
book. All her life, she had written books about the women around her, and these
naturally revealed the ways in which they were exploited and dehumanised by the
norms of society. The books were admired but they were very controversial.
Right from the first one, they were written under a pseudonym. Though she did
reveal herself early on, perhaps retaining the pseudonym as her brand, this
book goes further. It is not just the biography of Kharemaster but also a
complete exposition of the identity of the well-known Marathi litterateur
Vibhavari Shirurkar: Balutai, one of the daughters of Kharemaster, and the
circumstances in which she grew up and became the person she became.
The story starts with Kharemaster’s own writing, notes from
his diary given to Balutai by her mother after her father dies. Then,
influenced by an old friend of her father, Balutai takes a decision to write
the book by projecting her imagination into the events she remembers and trying
to interpret them in her own way. This is a device that works very well, except
(to my mind) in one place. Towards the end of his life, Balutai depicts her
father as lonely and depressed, preoccupied with feelings of rejection. I did
feel that this particular projection might have resulted from feelings of guilt
and regret this sensitive woman felt for her parents and their needs, and the
conflicting pressures of her own life which prevented her from giving them the
attention and care they may have craved. Maybe Kharemaster wasn't all that lonely and depressed after all, maybe he spent his last years in the glow of silent achievement, knowing that all his children were well-off and well settled because he had made sure they got well educated.
One of the things I enjoyed most about this book is the
skilled depiction of life in those days, and I learnt a lot: a deeper
understanding of the way women were perceived and their own perceptions of
themselves; the relevance of caste in society; the human angle of religious
conversion, and much more. It was interesting to know that, during the First
World War, young Indian men were kidnapped and sent by force to join the
British army. It was also interesting to see how the emergence of women as
individuals made marriage more difficult because it took an unusual man to accept
that perception. Modern and educated young Indian men and women today are
rejecting marriage, refusing to enter into a contract that forces them into
traditional roles that they cannot and will not fulfil. It was a movement that
began with the dedicated actions and sacrifices made by rare people like
Kharemaster.
