‘TRIVENI’
HAS SHED LIGHT ON MY PATH.
BLESSED BE HER NAME!
‘THE
TRIPLE STREAM’ 1
Re-drawing the Map
After the integration of the princely States,
achieved through the determined will of Sardar Patel, the next logical step was
to re-draw the map of India in accordance with certain well-defined principles,
keeping in view, however, the superior and over-riding claims of the Indian
Union. India is one, and a common citizenship is guaranteed by the
Constitution. Regional loyalties are valid, and even helpful, only so long as
they do not conflict with the primary allegiance to the Union. Any
re-organisation of States by way of re-grouping them or re-adjusting their
present boundaries, must be justified on the ground that the resultant units of
the Indian Union are homogeneous and well-knit, and that the people of each
region are satisfied that their legitimate claims as citizens of Free India
have received sympathetic consideration. From this point of view, the three
distinguished publicists constituting the S. R. Commission have fulfilled their
task with remarkable skill, balancing
regional and national interests, and never for a moment allowing their vision
of a united and progressive India to be dimmed.
Since
the publication of the Report three weeks ago, criticism of certain
recommendations of the Commission, particularly with regard to the States of
Bombay, Visalandhra and the Punjab, has been very vocal and insistent. In
addition, nearly every State has reiterated its claims to certain areas bordering
on it. But in all this outpouring of regional emotionalism neither the
sincerity of the Commission’s approach to the problems of re-organisation, nor
its fundamental sobriety of outlook, has been seriously challenged. No State is
completely satisfied, but each recognises that an effort has been made to
understand its point of view.
Judging
from the trend of discussions at the all-India and State
levels, the recommendations are likely to be implemented almost in their
entirety. Possibly Maharashtra and Gujarat will emerge as
separate States, with Bombay City as a distinct unit. Possibly, too, the
formation of Visalandhra may be expedited on account of the cogent reasoning of
Sri B. Ramakrishna Rao, the Chief Minister of Hyderabad. A few adjustments of
inter-State boundaries as between Madras and Andhra, and Andhra and Mysore, may
be effected by mutual consent. The Working Committee of the Congress and the
Chief Ministers’ Conference at Delhi have prepared the way for friendly
consultations on various aspects of the Report. The month of November will
witness a rapid harmonising of the viewpoints of the various interests
involved, and after the State Legislatures have expressed their opinion,
legislation on agreed lines will be undertaken by Parliament early next year.
The
members of the Commission recognise that language is an important factor when a
scheme of re-organisation is discussed, but they have given due weight to other
factors like administrative convenience and financial viability. In many instances
where a change was demanded, they preferred to maintain the status quo. While
they admit that the national fight for freedom, especially after 1920, gained
in vigour and intensity by the re-grouping of Congress circles on the basis of
language, they are definitely of the view that over-emphasis on linguistic
affinity and the emergence of linguistic warfare in several border-areas, are
unhealthy tendencies, Measures should therefore be devised to combat these
evils, and to strengthen the forces that make for harmony and goodwill.
Among
the major decisions of the Commission are those relating to the disintegration
of Hyderabad and the abolition of the institution of Rajpramukhs. These
decisions will facilitate, the re-grading of the component units of the Union
into ‘States’ (without distinction of A, B and C) and Centrally-administered
‘Territories’. Each of the present States, even the smallest like Coorg or
Himachal Pradesh, would like to retain its separate statehood, for any ‘merger’
in a larger unit is believed to be harmful to local interests, and likely to
prejudice the State’s future development. Vidarbha, for this reason, prefers to
stand apart from Maharashtra, Telengana from Andhra, and Mysore from Karnataka.
In theory, of course, there can be no objection to one language area having two
different administrations. Indeed the Commission do not accept the principle of
‘one language, one State’ or the allied one of ‘linguistic home-lands’. But in
actual practice, a united Maharashtra, Karnataka or Andhra will be more
advantageously placed, from the point of view of economic progress or
administrative efficiency. A unified control over river valley projects is an
important consideration.
The
denial of Seraikella to Orissa, of Berhampur to Andhra, and of Bellary to
Mysore, has caused discontent in the respective States. A valued friend from
Berhampur argues that, if the Commission had taken into account the majority of
the Telugu-speaking population in the area actually claimed by them, and not
the majority in the Ganjam District as a whole, the coastal belt ought to have
been included in Andhra. Similar complaints haw been voiced from several other
States. But the feeling is gradually taking shape that any agitation to redress
such grievances ought to be of a peaceful nature and, further, that when the
Government of India have taken a decision, all controversies must be set at
rest. What is heartening in the Commission’s attitude is their awareness of the
problem of linguistic minorities, and the steps they envisage for the
safeguarding of the rights of such minorities all over India. Statutory
recognition is to be accorded to such rights, and the administrative
arrangements suggested are to be implemented under the supervision of the State
Governor acting under the authority of the Central Government. This is in
effect a Charter of Rights for linguistic minorities in every State, and
particularly in the bilingual border areas like Bellary and Berhampur. But it
is important to remember that the rapid growth of the sentiment of a common
nationhood is the surest remedy for the evils born of linguistic fanaticism.
When the new States settle down and apply themselves to the great tasks that
await them, the antagonism of the recent past will be remembered as an ugly
dream that has dissolved. While the politicians and the champions of vested
interests wrangle about the boundaries of States, it is up to the poets and
artists of the different regions of India to function as the unofficial
ambassadors of goodwill and weave the fabric of a New India, worthy of Gandhi
and Nehru, Tagore and Aurobindo.
Among
the dreamers who are weaving the fabric of New India is Sri Rukmini Devi,
Founder of the Kalakshetra of Adyar. Twenty years ago, she invited a few friends,
including Sri P. V. Rajamannar, Sri K. Chandrasekharan, the late R.
Krishnamurti (‘Kalki’) and myself, to join a new organisation styled “The
International Academy of Arts.” This was to be an Art-Centre devoted to the
renaissance of classical Indian music and dance. From small beginnings, the
Academy developed into the present Kalakshetra. Eminent musicians and
composers, masters of the Kathakali and Bharata Natya, and students of Art from
all over India, were attracted to Adyar and they helped to shape the
Kalakshetra, under the guidance of the gifted Founder. In an open-air theatre
situated in sylvan surroundings, and with the aid of a stage-technique of great
beauty and simplicity, Sri Rukmini Devi produced a series of dance-dramas of
surpassing charm–The Light of Asia, Bhishma, Kutrala Kuravanji and
Kumarasambhava. All these were welcomed by art-lovers as expressions of “the
splendour that was Ind.” They established the reputation of the Kalakshetra as
a living embodiment of all that is noble and elevating in Indian Art.
But
Sri Rukmini Devi’s greatest ambition was to produce the Ramayana
in a sequence of three dance-dramas, with the help of the
famous composer Sri Vasudevacharya of Mysore who set the slokas of Valmiki to
music. Sita Swayamvaram, the first of the series, was presented to a very
distinguished audience in the Museum Theatre of Madras on the 26th of October.
That
was an unforgettable evening. For over two hours, the rasikas of Madras
were transported to the ancient Indian cities of Ayodhya and Mithila, as they
watched the young Princes, Rama and Lakshmana, who accompanied the Sage
Viswamitra protected his sacrifice, redeemed Ahalya, and
entered the palace of Janaka. The wedding of Rama and Sita was the crowning
glory of the performance. Music, costume, dance, were all of
the best, and one felt grateful to the Kalakshetra for the unmixed delight
afforded on an auspicious day like Vijayadasami.
Under
this title Sri K. V. Ramachandran writes in the present number of Triveni
about the life and achievement of the late V. Narayanan. Triveni owes a
great deal to both Ramachandran and Narayanan. They contributed exceedingly
valuable articles on Indian art and literature in the early years, before the
Journal migrated to Bangalore. I remember it was Narayanan who introduced me to
Ramachandran in the latter’s medical store in Luz Church Road, Mylapore.
Narayanan had written about ‘The Gods of the Tamils’ to the inaugural number of
the Journal in December 1927 and followed it up with others on Kalidasa,
Valmiki, and the Sangam Age in Tamil Literature. He was also present, along
with K. S. Venkataramani, T. G. Aravamuthan, V. S. Venkataraman (now President
of the Burma Indian Congress) and Khasa Subba Rau, when the inaugural number
was published at a special function. But our friendship had begun, much
earlier, when we studied Law in the Madras Law College. Narayanan was vitally
interested in Triveni, and always on the look-out for fresh
contributors. So, when he brought me and Ramachandran together, he insisted on
the latter writing something. I then wondered how Ramachandran, a ‘vendor of
medicines’, could do anything for Triveni by way of literary
contributions. But his ‘Dance Traditions of South India’, ‘Frescoes from Kerala’
and ‘Our Sahitya Parishats’ were among the finest things published in Triveni.
For choice of diction and for mastery of the technical details of the
subject, Ramachandran had hardly a peer. Then came his ‘Silpa Sree’ a
short-lived but wonderfully edited art journal in Tamil.
As
I glanced through the type-script of Ramachandran’s tribute to Narayanan, many
old memories, sweet as well as poignant, were awakened. Luz Church Road in
Mylapore and Basavangudi in Bangalore are the two spots that Triveni
holds most dear. Here were gathered the friends who sheltered the infant Journal
during long years of travail and enabled it to fulfill its function as the
exponent of the Indian Renaissance in Art and Letters.
Venkataramani
and Narayanan are no more. As writers and thinkers they take high rank. They
and their compeers of that generation were idealists to whom material success
was of small account. Theirs was the joy that comes to
all devoted servants of the Muses–the joy of creative endeavor.
Ramachandran,
in his article, feels sad at the thought that Narayanan did not win due
recognition for his scholarship. But he will always dwell in
the memory of a select circle of friends who knew his worth, and learnt to love
him for his many excellences. Between him and me there was the bond of
comradeship. We strove, in different ways, to interest the public in the things
of the mind and the spirit. But I always realised how much more learned and
versatile he was. Among the blessings Triveni brought me, not the least
precious is the memory of the love that Narayanan bore me.