For all my misgivings over the text, I want to fundamentally distinguish between the first two parts of the Tirukkural .—dealing with morality and materialism, society and statecraft—and the third, which is love poetry. Given the underlying fact that the institution of the family is of ultimate importance to the institution of the state, the first two sections demonstrate adherence to the structure of a household, the roles of husband and wife. The third part does not suffer these notions. It is a world that two lovers conjure together: gossip and social censure do not interfere with their sexual passion; instead, they feed its flames. Society does not separate the lovers; it exists outside of them. Love and sex are acts of equality and democracy—without any inherent hierarchy, they are available to everyone.
Songs Of Love And Longing
The Tirukkural, the highly regarded 2000-year-old text composed by the Tamil poet Tiruvalluvar, has three parts. Each kural in the book has two lines: the first consists of four feet, and the second, three. Meena Kandasamy’s feminist translation of the third part of the Tirukkural carries powerful messages about female sexuality, agency and desire
‘Chastity’ is not what the original text intends, and so to use it there is an imposition of post-dated cultural values on a classical text. As a poet, translator, a woman and a feminist, I wanted to avoid the burden of regressive ideas foisted onto a text that actually burns with longing, only ever concerning itself with shame in order to speak of the shame itself.
So, when my turn came to translate nirai in this kural., I chose ‘unwavering mind’—after all, nirai means fullness, strength, containment. I wanted my translation to incorporate a sense of self-fulfilment, of something that does not have to wander or waver, to challenge the lazy patriarchal notion that women have fickle minds. Here is my rendering of Kural. 1251:
The heroine is caught in the whirlpool of passion, a battle-axe that breaks through to her—and as much as it is a metaphor, it is also about a mental state
The battle-axe of passion breaks down the door
of my unwavering mind, bolted with my coyness.
Like its close cousin virginity, ‘chastity’—upon which most translators have fallen back—denotes something physical, the classification of relationships as chaste or unchaste implying something situated in the woman’s body. But the heroine here is caught in the whirlpool of passion, a battle-axe that breaks through to her—and as much as it is a metaphor, it is also about a mental state of being.
In my bid to create a feminist translation, I also took the decision to avoid words that have often been rendered in English as ‘husband’ or ‘wife’. I wanted to stop burdening this text of love with a social custom whose contemporary connotations may be far removed from how they were employed in Tiruvalluvar’s time. Instead, I have used the words ‘man’ and ‘woman’, and wherever possible, the gender-neutral ‘lover’.
I believe that feminist translations of classical texts like this one are necessary interventions, correcting the course of what has been happening with the Tirukkural. for the past several centuries
Longing for Sex
1281
Not wine
but it is sex that gives
sheer delight at thought
and such pleasure at sight.
1282
No, not even a little-millet pout –
total non-sulking is essential
when sexual desire overflows
and stands as tall as a palmyra.
1283
He does not care for me,
he does just as he pleases;
yet my eyes know no peace,
not having seen my man.
1284
Petulant, I went to pick
a fight, dear girlfriend –
but my heart forgot that,
and ran after him for sex.
1285
Like eyes that cannot see
a kohl-liner while it defines them,
I do not see my lover’s faults
when he is in front of me.
1286
When he is with me,
I see no faults at all.
When we are apart,
I see nothing but faults.
1287
Like those who dive, aware
they will be dragged away,
I learnt the futility of anger
by fighting with my lover.
1288
Like drink, that reduces
the drunk to objects
of ridicule, so does the
chest of this charmer.
1289
Softer than flowers
is making love...
Few obtain
its elegance.
1290
Her eyes held tears
as she sulked–we hugged,
trembling with desire;
her haste surpassed mine.
A Lament for Lost Self-Control
1251
The battle-axe of passion
breaks down the door
of my unwavering mind
bolted with my coyness.
1252
What goes by the name of love
is blind, is unkind, and runs
the business of controlling
my heart even at midnight.
1253
I try and conceal
this lust of mine—
With no intimation,
it materialises like a sneeze.
Advertisement
1254
I am perfect, I have such
self-control, I would say,
but my hidden-away lust
betrays me, proclaiming itself publicly.
1255
Those suffering from lovesickness
shall never know the magnanimity
of not running behind those
who (now) hate us.
1256
So graceful of you,
my dearest grief,
that you run after
the one who scorns me!
1257
That something called shyness
remains a stranger
when desire drives lovers
to indulge in the excess.
1258
This sly enchanter and
his artful words, are they
Advertisement
not the army that breaks
into our womanness?
1259
I went, in a mood to quarrel.
I hugged him,
seeing my heart melt
for our coming together.
1260
Having just had sex,
is it possible to brood
and bicker, for these hearts
that melt like fat in fire?
(This appeared in the print as 'Songs of Love and Longing')
-
Previous Story
Kicking Up A Storm -
Next Story
Book Excerpt: 'Latitudes of Longing' By Shubhangi Swarup
