‘Shrilal Shukla’s contribution to the modern Hindi Literature:

On 30^th January, 2013 I had the privilege to coordinate a discussion on ‘Shri Lal Shukla’s contribution to contemporary Hindi literature’ with two renowned authors: Ms. Gillian Wright and Mr. Amitabh Bagchi (of ‘An Average Boy’ and ‘The Householder’ fame). While Gillian Wright has translated Shrilal Shukla’s awarded creation ‘Raag Darbari’ in English, Amitabh Bagchi acknowledges Shrilal Shukla’s influence on him. The discussion was of an hour and despite being extremely involving and productive, it did not allow us to touch upon the diverse canvas of Shrilal Shukla due to time constraint. I felt I must share some of the discussed points along with my views on Shrilal ji’s world of concern.

 ‘Raag Darbari’ – in its totality sounds like a cry of a disillusioned heart – reminds me of Cardinal Newman’s expression ‘amidst the encircling gloom’, but Sri lal Shukl neither prays to the divine for leading him through this gloom as Newman does, nor does he smirk at the hard facts and realities that he had to face along with his countrymen collectively.

In his comical portrayal of decaying values and endemic growth of rascality in the post-independence Indian society, he makes a much hyped village (remember, all plans & programmes of Independent India are for villages – the beholder of India’s soul – they say) the protagonist of Indian model of development and people like ‘Ramdas’ of ‘Sooni ghati ka Sooraj’, ‘Langad’ of ‘Raag Darbari’, ‘Jasoda and Satte’ of ‘Pahla Padao’– the immensely patient and resolute laughing stock, symbol of the common man. In all his writings there is a loud uproar of conflict between the ‘haves’ and ‘have-nots’, the ‘able’ and the ‘unable’ giving it a spontaneous shape of a critique for all that was being done and is being done in the garb of development. At places, his ‘have-nots’ stand like the ‘Common Man’ of R.K.Laxman’s cartoons who acts bewildered at the frequent appearance of his name in the corridors of power. Narayan of ‘Makan’ makes it painfully candid by saying: "वे मुझे मेरा स्वर्ग नहीं दे सकते तो कम से कम अपने जिस निजी नरक में मैं रहना चाहता हूँ उसी में चुपचाप पड़ा रहने दें। ....." Gillian Wright rightly observes that language of satire, oblique remarks full of wit, humour and pun is a shield for Sri Laal ji to evade the abrasive face of cynicism emerging out of the frustration, dejection and helplessness he wants to reflect on. However, the Thinker running parallel to the Novelist becomes agitated like Ram Vriksha Benipuri in his novel ‘Raat-Din’ when he cries: "...आदमी, तू आदमी की क्या गति करता है आदमी?...." I hear similar moans of concern when Sri Laal Shukl says in ‘Sooni Ghati ka sooraj’: “सहमा हुआ, सिसकता हुआ, मुरझाता हुआ जीवन। शिकार सदैव वही रहता, शिकारी ही बदलते। ...." or, remember that dalit boy Basant of ‘Agyaatvaas’ saying: "....आपने जेठ की तपन में झुलसता हुआ ईख का खेत देखा है कभी? उसी के सहारे एक पूरे परिवार का साल कटता है। और यही फसल जल गयी। .....ये मंगरू, लालू,लोटन, इनके घर दो-दो दिन के बाद चूल्हा जलता है। आप यह भी नहीं जानतीं। सिर्फ आपको ये गीत अच्छे लगते हैं? आप हमारा रोना नहीं सुन सकतीं। गाना ही क्यूँ सुनना चाहती हैं?..."

Yet another heart-wrenching excerpt from ‘Pahla Padao’: "तुम ट्रेजेडी का अर्थ नहीं समझती, तभी ऐसा कह रही हो। ट्रेजेडी एक भयावह चीज़ है।किसी से प्रेम हो और उससे शादी न हो पाए - यह ट्रेजेडी नहीं है। आज की सामाजिक व्यवस्था में ज़िन्दगी के हज़ार क्लेशों में यह एक क्लेश भर है, ज्यादा से ज्यादा कुछ लम्बे दौर का न्यूसेंस है। ...ठीक इसी वक़्त इसी देश में न जाने कितनों की हत्या हो रही होगी, कितनी मासूम बच्चियों को कोड़े मार कर वेश्या बनाया जा रहा होगा, न जाने कितने बलात्कार हो रहे होंगे, कितने बच्चों के हाथ-पाँव तोड़ कर उन्हें अपाहिज बना कर भीख मांगने के लिए मजबूर किया जा रहा होगा .....I "

"ट्रेजेडी को लेकर अब मुझसे कभी ऐसी हलकी बात मत करना।"

Once we know that Gillian has co-authored “Slow Motion in India” – a collection of essays and stories covering diverse topics like farmer suicides in Maharashtra to child labour in the north, we can assess her natural attraction towards tales like the one is carried in ‘Raag Darbari’.  Essays and stories of ‘Slow Motion in India’ reflect her deep understanding of evolution of the warped Indian socio-political milieu which is a sad portrayal of a pretentious, feudal and colonial mindset. The public service here is considered to be the vehicle of being served by the public instead of being in the service of the public. That reminds me of the opening episode of Pavan Verma’s ‘Being an Indian’ where he has hilariously described the feudal and sick behavior of a Parliamentarian who enters an airport with his cronies steamrolling all the security procedures and norms laid for the safety and security of people at large.

Gillian rightly observed that ‘Raag Darbari’ is not seen to be discussed in the social circles of Delhi, and I am sure many of them would find it boringly descriptive too as most of them would not understand the use of native and colloquial phrases and expressions of Awadhi and thereby, the pun which brings out the best of humour, and even black humour, out of a common place transaction between characters and circumstances.   I remember from one of the biographies of Suryakant Tripathi ‘Nirala’, the icon Hindi poet of both romanticism and experimentalism asking Pandit Nehru, way back in 1939, as to why did he call Hindi poets to be Darbaari implying that it is bereft of original imagination and modern thinking. He informed him that it was an insult to Premchand, Jayashankar Prasad & Ramchandra Shukl who were present there in that ill fated gathering and were courteous enough not to retort as the function was to facilitate Pandit Nehru. It left Pandit Nehru dumb stuck and visibly angry because he could not have feigned ignorance of Hindi language being a person from Allahabad himself – the Mecca of Hindi literature those days. I see similar indications in Gillian’s somewhat circumspect observation about the Delhi social circles having high intellectual pretensions.

While reading ‘Raag Darbaari’ I clearly hear Gajanan Madhav Muktibodh imploring:

ऐ मेरे आदर्शवादी मन, 

ऐ मेरे सिद्धांतवादी मन,

अब तक क्या किया?

जीवन क्या जिया !

उदरम्भरि बन अनात्म बन गए 

भूतों की शादी में कनात-से बन गए,

किसी व्यभिचारी के बन गए बिस्तर!

दुखों के दागों को तमगों-सा पहना 

अपने ही खयालों में दिन-रात रहना,

असंग बुद्धि व अकेले में सहना,

ज़िन्दगी निष्क्रिय बन गयी तलघर,

अब तक क्या किया,

जीवन क्या जिया! !

.......बहुत-बहुत ज़्यादा लिया 

दिया बहुत-बहुत कम,

मर गया देश

अरे, जीवित रह गए तुम!!

....भावना के कर्त्तव्य त्याग दिए 

ह्रदय के मंतव्य - मार डाले!

बुद्धि का भाल ही फोड़ दिया,

तर्कों के हाथ उखाड़ दिए,

जम गए, जाम हुए, फँस गए,

अपने ही कीचड़ में धँस गये !!

विवेक बघार डाला स्वार्थों के तेल में 

आदर्श खा गए!

अब तक क्या किया?

जीवन क्या जिया!....."

He seemed to me as a person involved with continuous experiment terms of both – the subject and style of writing. While Sri Laal Shukl appears to be a light hearted satirist in ‘Angad ke Paon’ he becomes a serious novelist with issues of grave concern in ‘Sooni Ghati ka Sooraj’ (his 1^st novel). Stark absence of woman and woman related issue in ‘Raag Darbari’(1968) gets prominently visible in ‘Pahla Padao’(1987) and opens into the intricacies of man-woman relationship in ‘Bisrampur ka Sant’(1998).

‘Kuchh Zameen par Kuchh Hawa Mein’ – he has gone a step further to even mock and ridicule his own ‘self’ and people of his ilk – reminds me of Gajanan Madhav Muktibodh again:

"....हमने बताई तो 

दण्ड हमीं को मिला,

बाग़ी क़रार दिए गये,

चाँटा हमीं को पड़ा;

बंद तहखानों में - कुओं में फेंके गए,

हमीं लोग!!

क्योंकि हमें ज्ञान था 

ज्ञान अपराध बना। ...."

(एक भूतपूर्व विद्रोही का आत्म - कथन) 

In ‘Makaan’ he takes an interesting dig on Pandit Nehru’s letters written to his daughter (Indira Gandhi) when he mentions about the ‘Vishwa ka Bhugol’.

       I recently read Amitabh Bagchi's 'The Householder' and I could gather some distinct influences of Shri Lal Shukla's literature in the novel. I find Naresh Kumar’s reaction of running away from the family and the whole affairs of Household and the world around him very similar to Rangnath’s situation in ‘Raag Darbari’ or Kunwar Jayanti Singh of ‘Bisrampur ka Sant’ taking refuge in Sundari’s ashram and finally committing suicide. However, Naresh Kumar’s return to his Household reminds me of the Son described in Shukl ji’s  story ‘Ye Ghar Mera Nahin’ (written in 1962) who shows similar dejection to his house, of course, in much different situation, and informs his family through a letter that he’s leaving forever and would be dead by the time they receive this letter. Later, he is found sleeping on a bench in a nearby garden in the midnight. I don’t really know whether the author, Mr. Amitabha Bagchi, our co-panelist, agrees to this striking correlation or, considers it to be a mere coincidence.