Shillong-based Swarnali Biswas Bhattacharjee on her mentor, Bengali literary giant Sunil Gangopadhyay who died recently
HE BEGAN as a poet but went on to be the master of almost all other genres – short story, novel, non-fiction, travelogue, translation and youth literature.
Few Bengali writers of the modern era come close to the versatility of Sunil Gangopadhyay, born in Faridpur (now in Bangladesh) in 1934. His evergreen hero Nillohit (one of his pennames) captured the imagination of young Bengali readers for generations. His Kakababu series floored the adventure-loving youths. He used several pen names besides Nillohit – Sanatan Pathak, Nil Upadhyay, etc. – and mesmerized readers of India and Bangladesh over six decades. Several of his novels were made into films by eminent directors like Satyajit Ray, Tapan Sinha, Mrinal Sen and Gautam Ghosh.
When Sunil and his contemporaries emerged as writers on the socio-political backdrop of a turmoil-ridden era, the beliefs and ideals that had been held dear before independence began to be suddenly shaken to their roots. In that atmosphere of disillusionment and pain, they started their turbulent journey. Post-World War 2, all round anarchy made its presence felt with degeneration becoming all-pervading. Even literature was assailed by this sense of gloom and negativity which had its genesis in a despairing feeling of insecurity about life.
Sunil beautifully captured the unrest and romanticism of Bengali youths whose helplessness and angst were reflective of an uncertain, post-independence Bengal. He saw from close quarters how people struggled to survive in the aftermath of partition. Though, he himself went through the pangs of existence as a virtual refugee in his youth, he did not let that hinder his life force and energy. His experience of life and wide reading enriched his vision. His first novel Atmaprakash very well reflected the social milieu to which he had belonged. His protagonists were mainly modern urban Indians who suffered the pangs of life. Their struggle for existence was more sociological and economical than spiritual or psychological.
Sunil was the founder of the famous poetry magazine Krittibas that became a platform for new generation poets. He was a social iconoclast, always inclined towards demolishing myths, morals and hypocritical social values. The Bohemian in him was more often than not accused of promoting cacophony and vulgarity in literature, but in reality, he was a matured artiste who never attempted to sweep the hard facts of life under the proverbial carpet. Bengali poet Nirendra Nath Chakraborty said Sunil could through his writings easily go into the secret nooks and recesses of human relationships where others did not dare to peek.
Sunil’s writings through the last 50 years consistently portray the evolution of the urban civilization with all its pains and maladies. All his writings cannot be categorized as ‘eternally great’. But in most of his writings we feel an artisan’s mind, its growth, its closeness to life and above all, its transformation in search of a broader philosophical view.
Unlike others, Sunil never had the writer’s block. He was well aware of the changes that had occurred between post-colonial India and the era of globalisation. This adaptability or ability to run with time had made him modern forever, young at heart and fresh in creation, which is one of the reasons of his immense popularity. His language was vibrant as well as down-to-earth for easy comprehension.
Though, Sunil was predominantly a Bengali novelist, his writings bore the stamp of a global mindset. He never stopped reinventing himself. Never a preacher or propagandist, Sunil described life and time neutrally, sometimes in a dispassionate way. Like any other creative writer, he aimed at projecting a wider vision of life before his reader through the twists and curves of his narration. His desire for life was ceaseless.
Sunil was a rebel, out to break the social stereotypes when it came to his novels, but he was a different person in his poems penned around his muse Nira. Nira represented womanhood in its condensed totality; she was that receptacle where the lover in Sunil found his all round reflection. If we try to find an onomatopoeic similarity, ‘Nira’ and ‘Nari’ (woman) are on the same tune.
The majority of today’s sensitive readers are familiar with his time-tested epical novels, ‘Sei Samay’ and ‘Pratham Alo’ that depicted Bengal Renaissance, the socio-religious reformist movements , the rise of the middle-class, the dawn of urbanization in an epic’s style with all its depth and sweep. Another remarkable work was ‘Purba-Paschim’ (which depicted Bangladesh liberation war and the political unrest in India). He never let his works be affected by personal experience or bias. Overcoming the waves of political turmoil, religious crisis, he led his readers with great sympathy to the realm of that life-centric wisdom where his characters overreached the confinement of time and space and became universal. Here, we find Sunil as a visionary who sees beyond his time. The sublimity and lucidity, the expansion and depth of these novels are of rare quality.
I have been fond of his poetry and have had the good fortune to see him in different literary functions from close quarters. I found him very encouraging and supportive to the point that he was ready to welcome new writers from a remote north east into the vast arena of the mainstream Bengali literature. He was never indifferent to any writer however insignificant he or she was even if he was extremely busy. While taking his interviews at different times in connection with my thesis (‘Women in the novels of Sunil Gangopadhyay’) , I discovered a liberal, secular, open-minded and outspoken person in him – one who looked at life from a common man’s perspective, not haranguing from an ivory tower. He had given me every liberty to interpret his works in my own way. Under his indulgent mentorship, many of the present generation poets and writers grew up.
Bengali literature has lost a legendary writer and we have lost our guardian and the ever-inspiring Sunilda.