Karmachari
short stories about
ordinary people
V.P. KALE
TRANSLATED FROM THE MARATHI BY
VIKRANT PANDE
CONTENTS
Translator’s Note
Anamik
Vaidya
Sadashiv
Gokhale
Deosthali
Joshi
Khambete
Sridhar
Satwalekar
Kalpana
Karkhanis
Vandana Samant
Notes
About the Book
About the Author
Copyright
TRANSLATOR’S NOTE
I grew up listening to Vasant Purushottam Kale’s – VaPu’s – ‘katha kathan’, though I had not read most of his short stories before I embarked upon this task. I was not fortunate enough to hear him live, but heard a lot of his audio-cassette recordings. It is always a greater pleasure to listen to him as opposed to reading his works. There is nothing like the author himself reading out his stories, with all their nuances and intonations, and conveying the right emotions. But I realized that the non-Marathi audience was being deprived of his stories. Hence, this translation.
VaPu’s writing is deceptively simple, and what began as an ‘easy’ task turned out to be complex. Not because he uses a language which is difficult to translate. In fact, the conversational style makes it look easy, but when I sat down to translate I realized that it was not a cakewalk. VaPu builds his characters through conversations and does not try to create a portrait by mere description. He grips the reader from the very first line. While the story may progress at a normal pace, the reader is aware of a tension accumulating, waiting to erupt. His forte lay in building up a rich story through mere conversation.
VaPu’s stories make one reflect on life. Many are poignant, but not necessarily dramatic. VaPu holds a mirror to society and makes the reader introspect. His stories represent the joys and sorrows of a normal middle-class family. Most of his stories have a Marathi touch wherein he presents their financial, social, cultural and other problems, and the associated emotions of pain, desperation, temptation, anger and joy. He conveys very effectively the mysterious nature of the human mind and the unexpected things one sometimes ends up doing. A lot of his stories are also women-centric, and his heroines, as is the case with his other characters, are normal people we meet every day. One of the hallmarks of VaPu’s stories was that he would introduce a philosopher in many of them, whom he would use to convey his message.
The world VaPu creates is all around us – which we often do not realize until we read his stories.
In Partner, one of his most famous works, VaPu tackles the age-old issues of relationships, marriage, attachment, and so on. The novel is full of his philosophical musings, but the author consciously stays away from advocating any one way of living. He paints upon a wide canvas.
In Hi Waat Ekatichi (Her Solitary Road) the feminist in VaPu is at the forefront – in this novel, the heroine leaves her parental home to raise a child born in unusual circumstances on her own. Even in Partner, VaPu gives us a male protagonist who wakes up early in the morning, cleans the kitchen and makes tea for his wife.
Vapurzha, an autobiography of sorts, has a structure that allows it to be read starting from any page. One does not have to read it in a linear fashion. The intention is to free the mind and make it receptive towards all ideas, concepts and feelings.
Coming to Karmachari – I was hooked on to the collection from the moment I read it. It attracted me from the very first line with its simplicity. The stories are set in suburban Mumbai in the ’70s, but have relevance everywhere in India. VaPu’s forte lies in creating characters that are real and with whom one can identify. One feels as if one knows these characters and has seen them in real life. Karmachari talks of people one encounters every day – while commuting in local trains, in one’s office, or in one’s neighbourhood. His ability to get under the skin of an individual is what makes the stories enjoyable. And each story makes one pause for a while and reflect upon one’s own life and self.
I thoroughly enjoyed translating this collection. As the stories are all set in Mumbai, in a primarily suburban Marathi milieu, I have retained some words from the original language. This gives it a local flavour, yet it allows the story to be enjoyed by anyone from India – or from any part of the world.
ANAMIK
It’s generally considered indecent to try and eavesdrop on a conversation between two people. It’s considered good behaviour not to. I fully agree, for I am a decent man. But what does one do if the two people are talking loudly while standing in a local train where people are packed like sardines in a tin can? I may want to stop myself from listening by pushing my fingers into my ears, but in such a crowd it would not be an exaggeration to say that there’s no guarantee of the fingers reaching the ears they are supposed to.
One of the two people was excessively loud. He was talking about some trouble at home – personal, but not something he couldn’t share with his friend. He was talking about the mess his son had got him into.
‘Arre, I was in a hurry to leave for work, you know. I have to catch the same train every day and can’t afford to miss it. I opened the cupboard and before I could take my shirt off the hanger my younger son came and, with no warning, stuck his hand inside to get to the camera. I couldn’t stop him. Then suddenly he was distracted by a loud shout from my wife and dropped the camera on the floor.’
‘What happened then?’
‘What could happen? The lens got dislodged from its groove. The camera repair guy is going to charge a princely sum of thirty-five rupees to set it right. It has totally messed up my budget this month.’
The listener didn’t respond. He was looking for the right words to console his friend but seemed unable to
