Aadukala

Author: Shivarama Karanth Translator: D A Shankar

A Shrine for Sarasamma is the English translation of Sarasammana Samadhi written by K Shivarama Karanth in 1937, in his early thirties. It offers one of the most authentic and searing accounts of Indian womanhood, which consistently, and through the ages, has suffered deep anguish, humiliation and crushing insult from the oppressive patriarchal culture prevalent in all parts of India and among all castes and classes. The novel is a classic in Kannada and the English translation is an attempt to bring to the English reading audience a taste of the regional classic.

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Author: S U Paniyadi Translators: B Surendra Rao, K Chinnappa Gowda

This eponymous novel is centred on Kamale, who is an embodiment of wifely virtue. For fifteen long years Kamale lives the life of a widow to the outside world, nurturing the hopes of reuniting with the husband one day. Alone in the room, each night she wears her marks of a married woman with the dagger gifted by Umesha next to her. It could be seen as an exposition on the then existing indigenous discourse in India in the 19th century and early 20th century. Kamale, in her rigorous commitment and in retrieving her husband from ‘death’, is fashioned after Savithri in an intertextual reference to Mahabharata’s episode of “Satyavan and Savithri”. The novel might look conservative for the present-day reader, but it is a representative literary work of the time when Paniyadi, among many others, wanted to regain the independent status of the Tulu language which had somehow slipped out of its pedestal.

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Author: Srinivas B Vaidya, Translator: Maithreyi Karnoor

With a captivating start, A Handful of Sesame plunges us into the heart of the dying years of the 1857 mutiny. But the mutiny is largely a backdrop to the novel. When Kamalanabh of Kashi is manipulated by an impoverished Brahmin of Navalgund into marrying his daughter, the novel becomes basically the story of an internal migration. This is rare, and it remains one of the strengths of the novel. We are so used to speaking of migration across the postcolonial bridge and accredited national borders that we forget that India is a country of endless internal migrations – in the past and the present.

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