Category: Memoir/Translation
Publisher: Penguin Random House India (forthcoming)
Mannu Bhandari’s memoir is a remarkably forthright account by a supremely talented writer who published fine short stories, novels and also worked in television and theatre. Through her characters, Bhandari gave a voice to the newly emerging Indian middle-class woman, her battles and victories, her desires and internal conflicts.
Mannu begins her book by asking herself a question: why hasn’t she written even ten lines over the last ten years (that is, the ten years before the publication of her memoir)? Is it because her relationship with life itself has been slowly crumbling and she has been withdrawing into herself?
Mannu Bhandari traces her literary journey over the years, delving into the origins of many of her well-known short stories (Ekhane Akash Naye, Trishanku, Stree Subodhini, among others) and her acclaimed novels, including Aapka Bunty, about a married couple who get divorced and the impact this has on their child, Bunty.
The youngest of five siblings, Mannu had something of an inferiority complex because she was thin, dark-skinned and sickly, especially compared to her fair-skinned, pretty older sister. As a young girl, she was caught up in the stirring years of the freedom movement of 1946-47, joining in prabhat-pheris, processions and strikes. Her father’s forward views didn’t extend beyond his daughters enjoying the freedom to read, interacting with others and expressing their opinions within the four walls of the house. He didn’t take too kindly to Mannu’s desh bhakti activities. But she stood her ground – something she continued to do, right up to the time she decided to marry Rajendra Yadav against her father’s wishes.
Mannu met Rajendra Yadav after she had written her first seven or eight stories. As for Yadav, he had already gained fame as a writer, particularly with the publication of his major novel Ukhde Hue Log. They became friends and the friendship ended in marriage. Mannu was stunned when Yadav told her soon after they wed that though they would share the same roof, their lives would be independent – separate, free. The concept of a ‘parallel marriage’ was completely alien to her.
The marriage certainly did end up with the two of them leading separate lives – all the responsibilities and problems fell to Mannu while Yadav’s life revolved around his personal relationships and the freedom to leave home and go whenever and wherever he pleased. The ‘I need to write’ card was put to good use by him.
They moved to Delhi in 1964 – fellow writers and close friends Mohan Rakesh and Kamleshwar were already there, urging them to come to the capital, a city more suited to Hindi writers than Calcutta. But moving to new city didn’t help the marriage. Yadav’s financial situation was always precarious and it was left to Mannu to bear the responsibilities of running the house. Her health deteriorated. Eventually, after thirty-five years, Mannu finally told her husband she could not live with him anymore. She had tried to end the marriage earlier too, but had always faltered at the last minute. Why couldn’t she stick to her decision? No sooner would Yadav display a little warmth and love, and she would relent.
Once they did split, Mannu moved to her Hauz Khas flat in south Delhi, a flat that she’d bought with her own money despite financial difficulties. But though she was now free from a difficult marriage, the question remained — why couldn’t she get back to writing?
The translator: Poonam Saxena