Do you know Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay from close quarters? Wasn’t she your contemporary?” I asked Kota Lakshminarayan Karanth once. Cursing his forgetfulness and praising his younger brother, Dr. Shivarama Karanth’s phenomenal memory, this 91-year-old pathbreaking educationist would recollect from his “wretched” memory: “I met her only once in Mangalore. It was the year 1926 I think…What an exquisitely beautiful young lady she was! Already committed to public life, she had a vast collection of books. ‘Can I borrow some books from your library?’ I asked her. She recalled that I was a classmate of her ex-husband’s younger brother and said, ‘Why not? But remember to return them within seven days.’ I went to her place in Kodialbail, a mansion opposite the cart stand. I borrowed Trotsky’s History of Russian Revolution. I promptly returned it within a week. Kamaladevi was delighted. ‘ Nobody has ever returned my books on time. I had to be strict, you know, as books once lent just disappear into thin air!’, she said.

****

“ Age cannot wither nor custom stale her infinite variety”

Kamaladevi Chattopadhyaya – was in Bangalore to attend the Zonal Theatre Festival. Just the right height, she was by then well into her Eighties. Time had drawn its picturesque lines on her full face. The wrinkles and sagging muscles played rhythmically as she spoke. The tell-tale signs had only chiselled her into a graceful, ripe beauty. K.V. Subbanna introduced me to her as the translator of her work, “Indian Women’s Struggle for Freedom” into Kannada. Looking sharply at me, she asked Subbanna: “Has she done justice to it?” Her eyes were gleaming like the edge of a sword , sending a slight shiver down the spine. Smiles were infrequent visitors on this aristocratic visage.

There were bangles on her hands – not of gold, but what tribal women made in remote corners of India. Her ethnic handspun sari with a border and pallu seemed to derive its elegance from the charming wearer.

Not many knew her as a Mangalorean, as she left home early on to join the Swaraj movement. Only a few were in touch with her. For the new generation, Chattopadhyaya sounded a Bengali by birth!

***

Back to Mangalore days … A wedding ceremony was in progress. Bride – a Brahmin, the groom was a non-Brahmin. The elders overseeing the “arrangements” of this match were none other than Rajaji and Kamaladevi’s maternal uncle. Rajaji had come to play the part of the bridegroom’s father. The uncle introduced little Kamala to Rajaji.

“What do you want to become when you grow up?” Rajaji asked the feisty young girl who stood like a willow, head held high.

Kamala: I want to reform society, especially the condition of Indian women.

Rajaji: You are ambitious!

Kamala: Of course!

Softly Rajaji ‘s hand patted the girl’s head.

When Annie Besant visited Mangalore Kamala’s mother, Girijabai, had taken her to seek the blessings of the venerable lady. Girijabai was in close touch with Pune’s formidable women. She had founded a Women’s organization in Mangalore in 1912 itself. Freedom fighters, existential warriors, front door visitors, father’s drawing room buddies and mother’s pyol pals- all went into the melting pot of Kamala’s childhood. She had already come across tormented women, their tales of exploitation and deception, the solitary strife of her widowed and disinherited mother, sisters and aunt.

Kamala’s sparkling repartee to Rajaji had emerged from this backdrop… Pune’s avante garde radicals brought clarity to her life’s purpose. Gandhiji’s speech in Mangalore in 1917 mesmerised her. In 1924, during the All India Congress Conference in Belgaum, Dr. Hardikar and Smt. Uma Bai Kundapura asked Kamala’s assistance in training volunteers. This was Kamala’s debut of sorts in public life.

In 1927, the first session of The All India Women’s Conference was held in Pt. Rama Bai’s Seva Sadan, Pune. Kamala put her heart and soul as a volunteer. Noting her efficiency, the Executive Committee comprising Margaret Cousins and Sarojini Naidu selected her as the future Secretary of the Conference. Thus began the journey of responsibility, up the ladder, step by step. As Secretary, she travelled all over the country. She made the AIWC take up issues like accommodation for women labourers, crèche for their children, special allowance for pregnant women etc. She used to personally go to the Legislative Assembly to discuss laws with the people’s representatives. She ran from pillar to post, meeting key legislators, seeking their vote for Harbilas Sharada Act abolishing child marriage. She met Motilal Nehru, who looked at her, and said: “What brings you here, sweetheart?’’

“Your party must support the Sharada Bill,” said Kamala and almost immediately added: “You WILL support us, won’t you?”

Motilal: (in his typical raised voice) You slip of a girl, how dare you suggest what we should vote for!

Kamala: Oh! I see, your issue is my age! Okay, wait. I will bring along some old grannies!

So saying, Kamala fled the place. Later, whenever Motilal met Kamala, he used to laugh recollecting this. Sharada Bill was passed.

***

For the young Kamala, active participation in the independence struggle went hand in hand with the responsibilities of AIWC. She was in close contact with prominent national leaders including Gandhiji, but held her own before all eminence. If she disagreed with them, she did it with courage and conviction. A sensitive and reflective writer, she travelled through remote villages to get first hand knowledge of the real riddles plaguing the country.

Her perspective on Salt Satyagraha was unique. Gandhiji, more concerned about women than women themselves, did not favour their joining Salt Satyagraha! Kamala was flabbergasted. If women could be trusted to look after the Ashram in his absence, why couldn’t they be allowed to take part in the independence movement?

Kamaladevi went straight to Gandhiji. In the thick of Dandi March, he was camping in a village. When she appealed to him for women’s equal participation in Salt Sathyagraha, she got Bapu’s broad smile in reply.”I think you don’t know about your sisters,” he said.

“I know. That is why I am requesting you.”

She refuted all his arguments.

Finally, Gandhiji had to yield to her perseverance. What confidence the Salt Satyagraha inspired in women! Gandhiji conceded that women were the most important weapons in the march for Swaraj !!

***

The dreamer in Kamala began to visualize a composite cultural renaissance of music, drama, painting and sculpture. If today, dhrupad, thumri and ghazals are part of artistes’ repertoire, it is due to the untiring efforts of Kamaladevi who later founded the Sangeeth Natak Akademy. Our theatre those days was just regional stage episodes – not a discipline to be studied. Kamaladevi realized the theatre practitioners’ need for a school, curriculum and training by professional teachers. National School of Drama was the outcome of this foresight.

She built a dedicated army of enthusiasts who strove to unearth weavers, the rich but dying handloom legacies of Kanchivaram, Gadwal, Pochampalli, Paithani, and Jamdani. Her autobiography, “Inner Recesses Outer Spaces’, is not just a chronicle of independence movement but a singular narrative thronging with personalities from the world of art.

***

Kamaladevi was majestic and transparent, yet very private; a perfect blend of tradition and sophistication, beauty and brains.

Her sparkling humour and mimicry would have people around her in splits. She had fashioned her own signature style, setting a trend for generations to come.

Breaking the shackles of outdated societal mores, she had carved her own path. She was a phenomenal force, an epitome of feminine grace and creativity.

An atypical stateswoman commanding love, respect and awe though never seeking the spoils of power. A true feminist in her own right and a truer woman – her life reads like a legend and a myth.

Translated by Sumathi Niranjan Karody

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Books / by Vaidehi / October 26th, 2017

Bidar, which can trace its roots back to the third century, is steeped in history and is home to monuments such as Bidar fort, Gurdwara Nanak Jhira Sahib, and the domed tombs of Bahmani kings, among others. While its physical ‘brick and mortar’ heritage remains, the city’s ‘intangible history’ — community life, culture, cuisine and social practices — have been unrecorded for the most part.

To bring these to the public, students and faculty members of the Srishti Institute of Art, Design and Technology are working with a non-profit organisation, Team Yuvaa, to digitally archive local traditions.

They are also setting up brick and mortar museums in the walled city. An MoU was recently signed in this regard with the Hyderabad Karnataka Regional Development Authority, which will be funding the museums.

The project began with 17 undergraduate students exploring the cultural landscape, culinary heritage and the spatial transformation by talking to families in the region. “The project was initiated last year after a request from the former Superintendent of Police to set up a museum for the Police Department. Now, the students are documenting the origins of Dakhini Urdu dialect, the typography and iconography of houses, and the occupational heritage of the place, among other things,” said Shreyas Srivatsa, senior faculty member at the institute. Students, who spent four to six weeks early this year visiting households in Bidar, describe it at as a community-driven project.

“A museum is generally associated with some artefact and events of historical importance, but we wanted our museum to be a space where ordinary people’s histories are showcased. We want to look at the life of Bidiri artisans, Kulsali, Gawli and other communities and understand the city through their narratives,” said Mr. Srivatsa.

Eeshita Kapadiya, a Sahapedia UNESCO Fellow, who is part of the project is archiving information about the Dalapathi system, ancient village policing, which existed in Bidar. “The system has hardly been recorded in history. The village policing was seen as a community service and the people were never officially paid. There are people in Bidar who have served in this system and we are trying to share their memories through old photographs and oral stories,” she said. Museums will be set up at three centres in Bidar and will chronicle its police history, the century-old Urdu journalism tradition, stories of communities involved in certain occupations, old photographs, culinary practices, and historic court documents and maps of the region “Humsakavi, who served as a librarian in the police department is helping us trace the police history, an individual collector, Liyakath Ali Khan, is sharing his collections with the museum and some citizens have given away heirloom household items to us. Without the support of the community, we cannot build and run these museums,” Mr. Srivatsa said.

“The first museum is likely to open at the Old Town Police Station building in February next year,” he added. The next step would be to conduct community workshops on archiving and curating so that people can continue to tell their own histories and sustain the museums. “The content in the digital archive and museum will keep changing as and when we get new stories. We are starting it on archive.org, where Bidar residents themselves can make additions. Currently we have 200 items for the digital archive,” he said.

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home>News> Cities> Bengaluru / by Sarumathi K  / Bengaluru – October 23rd, 2017