Kochi: Awards and accolades sit lightly on the shoulders of C. Radhakrishnan, the gentle giant of Malayalam literature. He has won many in his illustrious career as a writer including the Murthi Devi award given by the Jnanpith committee, the Kendra and Kerala Sahitya Academi awards, the Vayalar award and the Odakkuzhal award to name only a few. Asked about the shower of such honours, especially of late, the humble author just waves his hand in reply, dismissive in nature though not contemptuous.
The Ezhuthachan Puraskaram, the latest, however, must have been especially sweet for him not just because it is one of the most prestigious in this part of the country. But because, after he had published his insightful biography on Thunjath Ezhuthachan titled Theekkadal Kadanhu Thirumadhuram, he faced ridicule and protests from a section claiming to represent the Ezhuthachan community. They took out marches and burned him in effigy and threatened to disrupt the publication and distribution of the work, which won him the Murthi Devi award. Their complaint was that he portrayed Ezhuthachan as a Nair, while they believed the Father of Malayalam was actually a member of their caste. The author had developed an interest in the subject ever since his childhood when his grandparents told him that Ezhuthachan was actually his own ancestor and his historical research showed that the word Ezhuthachan was not a caste name but a title given to a teacher.
The latest award thus comes as a vindication of not only his literary and historic standpoint but also of his universal worldview that takes precedence over caste considerations. “The award becomes precious to me on two counts: it is a blessing from the Father of Malayalam Language; it is approbation from the entire community that speaks Malayalam,” says C. Radhakrishnan. “I was told at age 11 by my grandparents and mother that Ramanujan Ezhuthachan was an ancestral uncle of the family. They also handed down the account of his life and experiences as handed over through successive generations.”
Days before the latest award, the versatile writer had brought out the English version of his anayalis of the Bhagwad Gita. The scientist-turned author has made use of his scientific knowledge and Vedantic erudition to attempt perhaps the first ever scientific reading of the Gita. Perhaps the most well known of his fiction works is Munpe Parakkunna Pakshikal, which has been translated into English (Birds That Fly Ahead). It is actually one of the three novels that form the Arjun trilogy, which in turn is the last one of the three three-novel clusters (navakom) published in Malayalam and later translated into English.
Born to a Hindu mother and a Christian father, Arjun the protagonist of Munpe Parakkunna Pakshikal finds his niece, nephew and only sister being decimated by his greedy uncle to grab their share of the family property. Arjun joins left-extremist forces and much bloodshed and drama follows. The author uses his experience as a journalist to bring out the political intrigue in the country’s capital. The second part of the trilogy deals with the trials and tribulations faced by Arjun’s sister Anuradha during the infamous Emergency era while the last one deals with the final part of Arjun’s life when he develops a special relationship of love and sacrifice with a tribal girl.
In his unpretentious yet poetic style, the author brings out the inner conflicts of the various characters, especially the protagonist and sketches his journey of atonement and self-realisation. At another level, the trilogy documents the political history of the country during one of its most turbulent phases that saw the assassinations of Indira Gandhi and her son Rajiv Gandhi.
It is a pity that though these novels, dealing with a pan-Indian theme, have become best sellers in Kerala and are being read by generations of Malayalis, they have not been noticed enough at the national level, even though the English translations are now available. Perhaps, a situation faced by most eminent writers of Indian languages. “It is true that languages spoken by fewer people offer the writers of them only lesser fame and dime,” admits the author. “But technology now comes to the rescue of merit. Anyone can go global through mechanisms like Amazon Kindle. Of course, there are limitations still but there is a way if there is a will!”
His boundless energy to keep on writing and the sheer volume of his work are unmatched in Malalayalam. “Unlike poetry, prose involves stupendous and tedious effort,” he says. “Editing, re-writing and even throwing hundreds of pages of prepared copy into the shredder is no joke. A pleasant job, however, gets easily done even if it ultimately proves thankless (thank God most often it doesn't)!”
Most discussions with authors or conversations invariably come to a close with the question, 'what next'? “The next thing I aspire to take up is the exploration of the likely scenario on earth after a thousand years,” says the writer, who interestingly dons the garb of a farmer when he is at his place, Chamravattom, where he has reconverted fallow land to paddy fields along with like-minded souls. He adds about the novel in the making: “The extrapolation is too far-fetched to attribute much credibility for the inferences made but the exercise may help generations to come evolve with at least a marginal difference in the pain of the paradigm shift. I find I have to read a lot more and make notes before I start. All of us are already launched on a course to it, so kindly buckle up and say a prayer for me!”
