Saturday, March 30, 2013

                 Coetzee: An Experience
It was dusk. I was deeply involved in my studies when I came across first time to John Maxwell Coetzee, one of the literary strongmen, in every aspect, to date. I remember yet clearly, in those days, I was studying for competitive examinations in 1999.Particularly, I was reading current affairs. A page caught my sight where it was written in the biographical format that this year’s Booker Prize goes to J M Coetzee, an African writer who writes about colonalisim,who has his own identity as a penman of odd issues in those days, who picks up a very simple theme and develop it with his high potential, whose characters are both black and white, who has complete empathy for his characters,who is very reclusive, whose only son died by an accident and whose personal life is an example of never ending grief and pains.
Next paragraph made me more curious about the writer. The book says –His Disgrace is considered as a modern classic. The use of language and his treatment to the plot is unique. Mainly, Coetzee is known for multi-dimensional treatment to his plot. Apparently looking tiny novel leaves many opportunities to the reader to think over his theme, charecters and so on.
This brief introduction of Coetzee aroused a deep curiosity in my mind. Very next day, I got a copy of Disgrace and ended it within next three days. I was astonished after turning the last page. Frankly speaking, I could not understand all aspects of the novel in first reading. It made restless for a while. What impressed me most was Coetzee’s daring to narrate David Lury’s, the protagonist of the novel, downfall as a teacher and secondly his allegoric treatment to the story. I felt that he is a writer of the first rank in world literature. Then I started my own search of his other writings. One day, in our college library, I found ‘Waiting for the Barbarion’, another masterpiece of Coetzee that was fully wrapped with many years old dust. I thought I was the first reader of that novel who was dusting off it. How nice! Just 170 pages. I could finish it within next two days, an immediate thought erupt in my mind. But when I started to read it, every page made me exhausted. I found it was difficult me to enter in the fictional world of Coetzee. His characters do not allow me to come up with them easily. With their movement in the plot, they crushed down every literary norm I ever pondered in my mind. I found, his characters have their own strenth, their own nature, their own human identity and above all their own grief and own mark of acceptance.Still, I was reading. Moving in the forest with the magistrate, the main character, trying to understand the pains of so called barbarians and inhuman treatment they receive from the world they circled in. Very slowly I was proceeding with the plot. Most of the things were very difficult me to understand.Initially,to see the size of the book, I thought that  I could read it within two days, but it took ten days to turn the last page. Much of the things still remain ununderstandable to me. ‘Reading Coetzee is a painstaking experience’.-that was my comment I still remember. But the greatness of Coetzee as a novelist made me his fan and still I am having same opinion.
Some of three years ago, I got an opportunity to translate his Disgrace in Marathi, my mothertounge.It was challenging, but I accepted it and within period of six months I completed its translation which was critically acclaimed work.
It was a memorable day when I personally met Coetzee in Jaipur literary festival where I could shoot photos with him and listened him as a contributor of that festival.
Today M Coetzee has a cult like status in the world literature. Many research projects have been under taken on hid work. Lots of conferences are organized to discuss Coetzee. You can’t think about modern literature without discussing Coetzee. But in the seventh decade of his age, he still stick up with his reclusiveness that is the special and much talked aspect of his personility.Coetzee is known for not receiving Booker Prize personally and criticized foe leaving South Africa and immigrated to Australia.
Considering all above issues, one cannot deny the greatness of Coetzee as a penman for years and years.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Pieces of life-1
          I knew you knew that I liked her. Frankly speaking I was in her love. It was not possible me to express but it was a truth. I must accept, her appearance could make me happy and it was the only mood changing phenomenon for me. Her absence or delay in college used to made me restless. It resulted in bunking daily periods. A sincere and regular student like me, now, becomes a subject of wide discussion. Many rumors were spread like an uncontrolled hurricane that had no mercy for me. Some said I have lost my temper, some where blaming my ever growing closeness with the boys who have not good reputation in college. Some blamed my sound economical status and criticized as, ‘Money spoils youngsters.’ But, yet, they express concern for me as, ‘It is unfortunate.It should not have happened with me.’
I was also confused about the changing pattern of my day today life. Irregularity was become a key-word to refer me. I used to stay in my own world. Not a single moment could have passed without her thought. She had filled up my universe. I started to see her in every substance I came across. She was everywhere. On blackboard, in the face of my teacher, in my books, on the moving leaves of the tree and where not? But I had not any daring to talk her or utter even a single word before her. That is what I could do was to observe her keeping a long distance from her and dreaming for hours and hours,restlessly,without caring time and space. Air was filled up with her fragrance. Nature had borrowed its beauty from her. Her melodious voice was not human, but it was blessed. In those days, I always felt, she was not from this world; she was an angel, Gods special creation.
Sometime, I had observed in the premises of my college, thousands of eyes were chasing her. It brought a wave of jealous in my mind. I used to get angry for a while. My heart was running with uncontrollable breathings. Many thoughts came to destroy my peace of mind. A day came when I had lost my temper.I caught her speaking with a boy, an unknown creature whom I had not seen ever before. They were talking over a cup of tea in college canteen. She was laughing, holding a cup with one hand and picking up her hairs those playing with her chicks and placing them forcefully behind ears. I felt jealous for those hairs. How nice, if I could have been one of them. She was very busy; both were looking familiar to each other for long time. But who was he? It was not fair that she spend her time in this way. What will people think? I could not endure if anybody expresses bad words for her. I would kill him. People have tendency of searching issues for gossip. They make mockery on others. She might be become a victim. But she should be careful about that. It was better if she should not sit in canteen with any unknown boy. I was standing here in the shades of a tree that quiet away from them. From there, she could not see me, but everything was visible to me. And then it shocked me when I saw, they rose up and went towards parking area. I observed them with extreme curiosity, both were looking very happy in each other’s company. He touched her hand while walking. She also responded and fondled his middle finger .Breathlessly, I was observing everything. And he picked up his bike, dragged it out of the parking and kicked it. She also sat delicately on the back seat placing her palm on his shoulder. She was sitting very close to him; even air could not pass between them.
She was executing his directions, I meticulously observed. On his demand, she again moved ahead and just stick to his back then put her feather like hand on his thigh. I was looking everything like a dark and horrifying nightmare. I was helpless, devastated. He twisted accelerator and run the bike speedily. I felt, he was crushing my heart under his bike. Some drops gathered in the corner of my eyes. I was seeing them without a movement of my eyelid. They were riding on bike, but I felt they were swiming in my tears…..