CAME THOMAS
A Novel in Thamizh by KA.NAA.SUBRAMANIAN
Translated into English by Latha Ramakrishnan
CHAPTER [2]
1. Thiruvalluvar (Tamil: திருவள்ளுவர், Tiruvaḷḷuvar ?)was a
celebrated Tamil poet
and philosopher [1] whose contribution to Tamil literature is
the Thirukkural, a
work on ethics. Thiruvalluvar is thought to have lived sometime between
the 2nd century BC and the 8th century AD.This estimate is based on linguistic
analysis of his writings, as there is no archaeological evidence for when he lived.He
is sometimes also called Theiva Pulavar ("Divine
Poet"), Valluvar, Poyya mozhi Pulavar, Senna Pothar, or Gnana Vettiyan.
2. Thomas
the Apostle, also called Doubting Thomas or Didymus (meaning "Twin," as does "Thomas" inAramaic")
was one of the Twelve Apostles of Jesus. He is best known for questioning Jesus' resurrection
when first told of it, then proclaiming "My Lord and my God" on
seeing Jesus in John 20:28. He was perhaps the only
Apostle who went out side the Roman Empireto
preach the Gospel. He is also belie ved to have crossed the largest area, which
includes the Parthian Empire and India.
3. Ka.
Naa. Subramanyam (b. 31 January 1912 - d. 18 Dec ember 1988)[1] was a Tamil writer and critic from Tamil Nadu,
India. He is
also popularly known by his Tamil initials as Ka..Naa.Su. Subramaniam was born in Valangaiman in Thanjavur District.
His first noted published work was the novel Poithevu (1946).
He also wrote poems using the pseu donym Mayan. He published many
literary journals like Ilakkiya vattam, Sooravali and Chandraodayam.
He became a literary critic in the 1950s. His reviews first appeared in the
magazines Swadesamitran and Saraswathi. In 1965,
he moved to New Delhi and
started writing articles for English language newspapers. For the next twenty
years he lived in Delhi
[*courtesy: wikipedia]
___________________________________________________________________________________________
I] down memory lane….
ON
TRANSLATING KA.NAA.SU’S NOVEL THOMAS VANDHAAR INTO
ENGLISH, UNDER THE TITLE
_‘CAME THOMAS’
latha ramakrishnan
I am never good at undertaking ‘down memory
lane’ journeys. And, twenty years is a long time. Still, a few reminiscences
about this book seem inevitable…
Two or
three years before his demise, in December 1988, veteran writer
Ka.Naa.Subramaniam had come to Chennai and was living in Mylapore, with a
failing eye-sight. Learning this I wrote a card to him saying that I would
consider it an honour to be of some help to his literary activities. Shortly
afterwards I met him and started going to his place almost everyday. I was one
of the few who could read his handwriting (it would be too small but so neatly
aligned with no corrections, addition, deletion etc.) and so was able to be of
some help to him. I could feel a sense of peace in his presence.
When he asked me to
translate into Tamil his novel ‘Avadhuthar’, originally written in English by
him I thought he was kind of evaluating my literary capabilities and nothing
more than that. But, he did get my translation published. So, when he asked me
to translate his poignant novel ‘Thomas Vandhaar’ into English I set out to do
it in right earnest.
Sad indeed that when I
was half way through the translation assignment, Ka.Naa.Su breathed his last.
Nevertheless, I finished translating Thomas Vandhaar, giving it the title ‘Came
Thomas’, in the next six months. And, when his wife left for Delhi I gave my typed manuscript to her, thinking
that in Delhi
Nothing happened in the
next twenty years for which no use blaming any body, including my own self.
Recently, when I came to know that writer Ka.Naa.Su’s books and works were
handed over to Kalachuvadu for preser vation, I contacted the son-in-law of
Ka.Naa.Su, Mr.A.R.Venkatachalapathy and the head office of Kalachuvadu in
Nagarcoil asking for my manuscript. They made arrangements for the manuscript
to reach me within a month for which I genuinely thank them.
Seeing my manuscript,
the white-sheets having turned grey and brown, after almost two decades, with
the covering letter written by me, in fact, I experie nced an eerie feeling, to
say the least.
We can perceive a
general trend around us, the ‘in-thing’ so to say, whereby if one echoes our
views he/she is hailed and approved of, and, if not, abused and subjected to
class-based and caste-based castigation. But, Ka.Naa.Su belonged to that clan
of writers who write what they feel right no matter whether they get accolades
or brickbats and who would never be the mouth-piece of any particular
individual or group.
When this novel was
serialized in a small magazine for several months it gave considerable food for
thought. I sincerely hope that this English version of it would also prove that
poignant. Whatever be the merits of this translation of mine, they truly belong
to Ka.Naa.Su and the lapses are entirely mine. Hope they are few.
There are a round 25
chapters in this novel, comprising some 230 pages. I would be uploading my
English rendering of this novel chapterwise in this blogspot of mine once in
every week. I sincerely wish to have my English rendering of this very
thought-provoking novel published in a book form. I sincerely hope that there
won't be any need for me to remind anyone that though writer Ka.Na.Su's works
are nationalized my English translation of his Thamizh novel 'Thomas
Vandhaar[Came Thomas] is not!
Regards,
Latha ramakrishnan
Chapter
2
My name is Vadhoolan.
Many a time have I wondered as to
why I was named Vadhoolan and called so. There are also those who address me as
Vadhoolaa, Vaadhoo and ‘Thambi’ and so on.
I do not like this name in any
form. There was one called Vadhoola Maharishi. That I have come in that lineage
is one reason. Whether any such person
called Vadhoola Maharishi really existed – that itself is not known. As far as
I know, nowhere in Vedas, Upanishads or in any proven and accepted
origins[rishimoolangal] we come across any such name. but, father says that as
I have come in this lineage he has given me this name. my father is not at all
sensible, I think.
By now you would have guessed that
I am born a Brahmin. That those who make much ado about Gothram, lineage and all
are mostly Brahmins, is known fact to
all.
Many a seer and others have asked
the question whether ‘Brahminicality’ comes by mere birth tself. Those great
sages, born of Upanishads, the Jain Munipangas called Men of Religion and
Theerthangaas, Gauthama Buddha have all asked this question and given various
answers.
I asked father. There came no
answer from him to this query. Anger
alone erupted. I can’t regard him as a Brahmin. When this being the case, how
can I regard myself as one..?
“Hei you, why are you thus roaming
around with all and s undry, leaving off the learning and chanting of Vedas?
How are you going to earn a good name in this world and live?”, - so asks my father in response.
When he says that I wander in the
company of all and sundry, I know who he has in mind.
In the vicinity I have only one
dear friend. It is said that he is born of some ‘low-caste’. Like my name is
given to me after my ‘gothram’ he is also given his name after his caste and
creed. Except him, I have no other close companion. Being and chatting with
him, as if observing as to how many varieties of human forms and faces are
there in people, going around the market-place, bazaar-road, places inhabited
by human species has become almost a full-time job for the past two or three
years. I derive a sense of satisfaction out of this.
How come such a friendship and
bondage has come into being, is indeed a surprise even to my own self. He, this
Valluvan, is five or six years elder to me. As for me, I am a complete stranger
when it comes to Learning. Somehow I would recite by heart those manthras and
slokas taught by father, rhythmically.
Don’t know their meanings. But, somehow, all the manthras and slokas are
known to Valluvan. Not only that, he knows their meanings too. When I told this
to my father, do you know what he said? “Scoundrel, sinner he is, learning
manthras and Sanskrit slokas. Is he telling their meanings too? He is bound to
go astray. And you, who have joined hands with him will also follow suit”, said
he.
I have no wish to become
‘something’ in father’s interpretation of those terms. Not worrying about this,
I am roaming around, with Valluvan.
When we two go along the streets,
if someone happens to see us they take only him to be a Brahmin and me as a
no-Brahmin. I have no regrets at this. In fact, with his knowledge, humility,
mental-strength and good habits, I too consider and regard Valluvan as a true
Brahmin! Valluvan never uses the term ‘Brahmin’. He would say ‘Andhanan’. Only
he who, not by birth but through his conduct, is a noble soul, is Andhanan –
says my good friend.
That my grandfather never deviated
from the path of Virtue and Morality, they say. I do not know that. But, my
father is an amoral person in all aspects. Particularly, in his lust for another
man’s woman, he has no equal at all. Indeed there is some magic in him which
lures wives of other men.
Some men who didn’t fear this power
of his – the husbands of some of the women lured by him – had given him sound
thrashing too, to weaken his alluring effect. My father’s mother – even while
being in her death-bed, called me and, before her life-breath stopped, said:
“don’t go astray like your father, Vaadhoolaa….this is my only prayer…”
What for people are born? Why do
they die?
I asked my father.
“who can say ‘why’ and ‘what’? we
should never ask why. Fate. God has destined so” – replied father.
The next day I asked Valluvan the
same question. “Man starts moving towards Death right from the moment he is
born. We refer to Utility[Use] and Time, as Time. We should live our Life, not
feeling sad whenever Death confronts us. The use of your Birth need not be
known to others.there is no necessity that it should be known to you”.
In a way this was also an
unsatisfactory answer only. For the query ‘why’ there was no answer. But, it
seemed to give, to some extent, the meaning of both Birth and Death.
“My father says it is fate” – said
I.
“True, there is that thing called
Fate too. It is fate that decides the
quality and course of Life, quality of Death and that which goes beyod Death”,
said Valluvan.
I always think that my friend
Valluvan lives in a world which is built extensively of words, where nothing
else is real. If he begins to converse, sweet beautiful words come out of him.
All those words are familiar too. Apart from Sanskrit slokas and manthraas, the
language of Thamizh too comes to Valluvan in a spontaneous and beautiful
manner. Where did he learn? When? I asked him directly.
Easily, without getting angry, he
answered. “Thamizh comes to me by constantly listening and hearing my mother
speak. I learnt Sanskrit from Aaladhi Naayanaar. From the jewish merchant
Ezekial who has come to stay in Mylapore I am learning about the language
Hebrew and the people’s habits and behaviour. I am now going to Ezekial’s house
only. If you want you can also come”.
To Ezekial’s house? Will they allow
Valluvan to enter into the brand new mansion? I had stood facing it, gazing at
it with awe and wonder. A huge, brand new bungalow. During day time its
entrance would always be crowded with people going in and coming out of the
mansion.
At the gates, there are always some
four or five ‘vasthaadhs’[men of gigantic built] standing, guarding the
palatial building. Goods and articles from very many a land, costing too high,
are forever brought to the bungalow and taken out of it. At least one half of
those boats which come sailing in the Sea for fifteen to thirty ‘Naazhigai’ a
day and stand in a row providing a pleasing sight are said to belong to
Ezekiel. I have heard them say that some two or three ships which would stand
there with the anchor laid and start sailing with their sail spread that push
them forward with the help of the wind also belonged to him.
There has spread a rumour in our
locality that, for all these affluence
he is comparatively a new-comer to this land and to the filed of business and
that when he came here he had but only a little money with him and that, with
the help of kith and kin and fellow Hebrews in various countries he bought and
sold things, earning profits and thus, within
a year he had become a millionaire. When he came he had come alone only.
But now he has a family. He has got two sons and three daughters. I know that
the girls with their large eyes and sharp nose look very beautiful, and, the
two sons, tall and with looks and activities that are peculiar to the Hebrews
are slowly turning into big-shots in our place. One son’s – the eldest _ name is David.
Don’t know the name of the second son. Likewise, I know the name of one of the
daughters. The youngest called Miriam is very brave. Without any reservation or
hesitation as to what to speak to whom she would easily pick up a conversation
with almost anyone. In this area, women driving a vehicle is a very common
sight. Tying two horses, as is the existing fashion of our place, in the cart
when she was going alone one day, to bring someone from somewhere, the local
thug called Maadan, thinking that a sixteen year old girl, being alone was a
good chance not to be missed, blocked the way and had said something, it seems.
Whether Miriam could understand his Thamizh or not – she could interpret the
motive behind his action. She brought him down with the help of the horse-ship
and beat him black and blue, leaving him bleeding all over. There was none in
our place who didn’t praise her for her courage. This incident had earned
Ezekial more name and fame than all his wealth could ever hope to offer him.
The title like tag that he is Miriam’s father has enhanced his pride and glory.
Significantly, wherever and on
whatever occasion Vaadhoolan, i.e., me, happens to see the girl called Miriam,
his heart-beats would gain momentum. There arises in me a different kind of
momentum of the heartbeats when I see Valluvan’s wife Vasuki. Vasuki cannot be
compared with Miriam and called beautiful. But then, she is endowed with the
skill of creating and preserving peace in her countenance, eyes, words and her
surroundings. It seemed to me that in the same way, but as against that, there
is that a magic in Mirium to turn the atmosphere charged.
I don’t know whether such feelings
are there in me alone. If asked, Valluvan would answer, but, somehow I felt shy
of asking.
That there never could arise any
occasion which would in some way bring together Miriam and myself, is known to
me in all certainty. I am a very poor Brahmin boy. Not even having the academic
qualification and knowledge required
for one to claim himself a Brahmin. Miriam is from an alien land. A girl with
different habits and unorthodox practices, i.e., in our view. Further, one who belongs to a rich household.
Enough if hse just moves her little finger – there would be thousand young men
following her footsteps.
Yet, I cannot help thinking that
she did notice me on one or two occasions. And, it seems that it is something
that gives me satisfaction.
The other day – recently only –
what did Valluvan say?
‘Does love have bolt that shuts one
out? Can it be true? Is my quickening heart beats, Love?” I myself cannot say
for sure.
Now my friend asks me to go with
him to the mansion where Miriam is. Will it bring about a new beginning? Will
it indeed happen?”, - Desire urges me.
But, I am afraid too. It so happens
that doing something and so being misundewrstood and so forced to face
humiliation – how to face such a situation? True, Brahmins are to some extent
brave people only, having the heart to carry out a job without fearing
anything. To that extent I am also a Brahmin. Further, Valluvan is also there…
Can cpe with the situation…
“May I also come with you?”, I
asked Valluvan.
“Who said that you shouldn’t ? if
someone says so I will tackle it. If you want to come, come. Disbelieving the
stranger is deep-rooted in us. But, Ezekial is no stranger. For, some people,
especially for some individuals there is the quality which makes them one with
any place and the native of any land and atmosphere. Such persons look familiar
amidst any people and in one and all surroundings. In Hebrews – they call
themselves Jews – this endearing quality is a little more striking. And, in
Ezekial it is especially significant”, said Valluvan.
“Have you talked to that chap?” –
asked I.
“With that chap? No, it is wrong.
He is very much an elderly person in age. Very much experienced. So, I can
think of him only as ‘that gentleman’. Not only with him; but also with his
wife, daughters, sons and the servants I haven’t spoken… in this place it is
this family that I consider most affectionate and they are real friends and
well-wishers.”
“I can’t help feeling somewhat embarrassed”,
said I.
“lLast Sunday when I was in their
house, Ezekial’s third daughter addressed me as your friend and even enquired
after you?”
“Is it? She enquired? Really? So,
they have that much freedom for women?”, asked I, greatly surprised.
“The way you have learnt what her
name is, she has learnt yours. But, don’t do anything foolishly. She is a
highly liberated girl, having a mind and vitality of her own. The way she
questions me regarding v arious things are proof enough to show how deep she
has though of and has a knowledge of very many things. Sometime I would
struggle to answer her queries”, - said Valluvan.
“Is she very much educated?”
“Not Education as such. Some have
the capacity to think and contemplate. For the educated, the ‘well’ within
springs further and further. But, it happens only some times. for many,
Education turns out to be the ‘stagnant-point’ of thinking. Also, there are
several uneducated men who can think… once upon a time I myself gad been
ignorant of alphabets, remember?” _ said Valluvan.
“But, you have learnt many a thing
through listening to others”, I exclaimed. “ I will not accept that you were
ever an illiterate even if you did not know reading and writing. I too am an
illiterate only. But, I do not possess your…”
“ _ the fact that you have lack of
confidence in your own self can become the foundation of your progress… you
know.. it can act as a stepping stone to your success. Learning depends on
things like Where, in Which place one gets it, What one gets out of Whom etc.
we should keep contemplating on all that which we see and hear”.
*******
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