‘THE TRIPLE STREAM’*

By K. RAMAKOTISWARA RAU

The New States

The 1st of November is an important landmark in recent Indian history, nearly as important as the 15th of August 1947 when India achieved Independence or the 26th of January 1950 when the Republic of India came into being. For over four decades certain linguistic groups, notably in the South and West, urged the need to redraw the map of India so as to organise the country into well-knit, homogeneous administrative units based on contiguity of territory and community of language. Stalwarts like Lokamanya Tilak and Mahatma Gandhi recognised that as a result of such reorganisation India could preserve her rich diversity of language and culture alongside of her fundamental unity of aim and outlook. Patriots of outstanding eminence–Mahesh Narayan of Bihar, Gopabandhu Das of Utkal, Konda Venkatappayya of Andhra and Gangadhar Rao Deshpande of Karnatak, to name only a few–dreamed the twin-dreams of Swaraj for India and a Province of their own. While Bihar and Utkal were carved out into separate administrative regions even when the British held sway, the others had to wait for some more years. The new States of Mysore, Andhra Pradesh and Kerala are the outward manifestations of an inner impulse to vitalise the sub-national units within the framework of the Indian Union. Maharashtra and Gujarat have been combined into the larger bi-lingual State of Bombay, mainly because of the difficulty of adjusting rival claims to the City of Bombay. The States are settling down, and the Zonal Councils will seek to promote the spirit of friendliness and co-operative effort between the States in each Zone. It has been wisely decided to make the Home Minister of the Union Government Chairman of every Zonal Council. That way lies the path of harmony between the parts and the whole.

In some ways the most important of the recommendations of the Fazl Ali Commission was the one relating to the disintegration of the State of Hyderabad and the assignment of its three divisions–Telangana, Marathwada and Karnataka–with the neighbouring States of Andhra, Bombay and Mysore. The Nizam of Hyderabad is no longer the Ruler of the State, not even Governor. He wishes to retire from active life and devote himself to the pursuit of Art and Letters. Thus does the descendant of the famous Asaf Jah, a front-rank nobleman and general of Moghul times, pass into political oblivion. But the Maharaja of Mysore has agreed to function as Governor, and with him as Head of the State the scattered areas of Karnataka are integrated into a new pattern. Mysore has always been a rallying centre for the people of South India, speaking different languages but united in their loyalty to the memory of the great Empire of Vijayanagara. The Palace of Mysore and the royal personages who adorned it maintained the Vijayanagara tradition of patronage to the arts. Musicians and painters, scholars and poets were welcomed in Mysore and made to feel that, even in a period of transition when old values are yielding place to new, the cultural inheritance of India could be safeguarded and enriched.

If Mysore is a symbol of Vijayanagara, Andhra Pradesh is the inheritor of an yet earlier tradition–that of the Kakatiyas of Warangal. Under Ganapati Deva and his gifted daughter Rudrama Devi, the Telugus achieved political and cultural unity and acted as a bulwark against invasions from the North. Under Pratapa Rudra, the Kakatiya power succumbed to the Muslims, but the chieftains of the region made common cause with those of Karnataka and helped to build the Empire of Vijayanagara. The new Andhra Pradesh begins its career under happy auspices. With its immense natural resources and its intelligent and industrious population, it is likely to win a high position among the States of the Indian Union. One hopes that the differences between rival groups of Andhra Congressmen will soon disappear, and that the Andhras will make a sustained effort to bring back harmony into their cultural and political life. There is, in all fields, plenty of individual talent but the leadership is poor, even pitiful.

Border areas where two languages are spoken will no longer present a problem, because the Union Government and the Governments of the States are anxious to implement the recommendations of the Fazl Ali Commission about the protection of the rights of linguistic minorities. When every language is fostered, the supremacy of one Language over another need not be feared. An element of discontent still lurks in certain quarters in regard to the ‘disputed’ areas between neighbouring States, and it may be necessary for the Central Government to appoint boundary commissions for the final settlement of these vexed questions. And scholars well-versed in two or more languages of India must settle down in every part of the country and promote understanding between different linguistic groups. This is an important aspect of nation-building in the India of the future. The memory of the recent unhappy controversies may be wiped out.

The Coming Elections

It is now fairly certain that the General Elections in India will come off during February next. The leading political parties are engaged in the preliminary task of choosing candidates for the Central and State Assemblies. At one time there was some talk of an election alliance between the Leftist parties ranged in opposition to the ruling Congress party. But this has not materialised. In spite of minor differences born of temperament the Praja Socialist Party is nearer to the Congress than to the Communists or to the Lohia group of Socialists. With the acceptance of the “Socialistic pattern of society” as the ideal of the Congress, the differences between the Congress and the P.S.P. have been narrowed. An Indian type of Socialism is being evolved, and since the Congress and the P. S. P. are equally interested in such an evolution, they ought to pool their resources in man-power and organisational skill and pave the way for the emergence of a strong Centre Party, opposed to the conservative elements like the Hindu Maha Sabha and the Jan Sangh on the one hand and to the disruptive forces represented by the Communists on the other.

In recent years the Congress has suffered in the estimation of the general public owing to the presence in its ranks, and even in its leadership at the State level, of self-seeking politicians whose professions of patriotism are utterly unrelated to the activities in which they indulge, particularly in their interference with the normal course of administration in their districts. At the time of elections, some of these are not up as Congress candidates, and old time Congressmen who are not enamoured of ‘group’ politics find it difficult to vote for these local bosses. But since the usual alternative is to vote for a Communist–and the prospect of a Communist administration continues to be a nightmare to democratic, peace-loving Indians–a majority of votes are cast for professional politicians sailing under Congress colours. A feeling is rampant in the countryside that, irrespective of party labels, honest and talented individuals must be returned to the legislatures. Herein lies a danger. In democratic countries a Parliamentary system of government pre-supposes the existence of well- organised political parties based on differences in objectives and programmes, but all of them wedded to constitutional methods. People who owe no allegiance to any organised party and claim to be ‘Independents’ cannot be trusted to pursue particular programmes. The slogan of “the best men irrespective of party” must lead to chaos in our political life.

So the immediate problem for the Congress organisation is to find candidates who, in addition to being good party men, are also acceptable to the electorate on grounds of personal merit and integrity. The choice of such candidates will win for the Congress the enthusiastic support of the large mass of voters who may hesitate to vote for undesirable individuals selected by the Congress. And eventually, and in any case before the succeeding General Election of 1962, the Congress and the P. S. P. must coalesce. Such a united party will draw unto itself the best elements in the public life of the country. It will also prevent the formation of miscellaneous groups swearing by individual politicians and bargaining for place and power whenever a new Ministry is formed.

The infant democracy of India is today on its trial. By the manner in which it conducts itself at the coming General Election, its competence will be judged. Millions of illiterate voters, suddenly called upon to exercise the franchise, behaved with admirable restraint during the previous election and won the encomiums of the democracies of the West. But mere orderliness at elections is not enough. Ability to assess the worth of a political party and its programmes is the crowning virtue of any electorate. The voters of India in their millions must display that ability and build up a great democratic tradition.

Role of Translators

Anyone who watches the trends in literary activity in modern India will be impressed by the increasing importance attached to the work of translation from one Indian language to another and from English into all these languages. The latter implies also translations from foreign languages other than English, but through the mediacy of English. At present there are few scholars in India sufficiently acquainted with French or German, Spanish or Russian, Chinese or Japanese to render the classics in those languages without the aid of existing English translations claiming to be fairly accurate and elegant. Even the translations from one Indian language to another are sometimes made from an English or Hindi version. Thus, the late Romesh Dutt’s The Lake of Palms was translated into Telugu by Chilakamarti Lakshmi Narasimham, not from Bengali but from English. Hindi and English are studied by several people in every part of India, and it is always possible to secure the services of competent translators who can render a Marathi or Gujarati work into Tamil or Telugu with the help of the Hindi or English version.

But sooner or later every region in India must train bands of translators who have made an intensive study of languages other than their own and may be depended upon to present in their mother-tongue the most enduring literature of other lands and of other regions of India. If such devoted literary workers are to be available for this service of cultural interpretation, the Universities in India have to endow Chairs for the teaching of three or four Indian languages and at least two foreign ones. The translator has oftentimes a task more arduous than that of the author, for his work is judged from two points of view–faithfulness to the original and elegance of expression. Good translator’s are verily ambassadors of culture, and it is up to bodies like the Sahitya Akademi and the Southern Languages Book Trust to raise the status of translators by securing for them adequate rewards in the shape of honoraria, as well as by bringing their work to the notice of a wider public in India and abroad.

Triveni has, from the beginning of its career in 1927, chosen if for its special sphere the translation of poems, stories and plays from the Indian languages into a common medium like English. It has also published critical estimates of the work of litterateurs writing in different languages. This was pioneering work which continues to be valued, and it was through such translations and critical estimates in English that scholars in the various regions were drawn into a cultural fellowship, and Kalindi Charan Panigrahi, Masti Venkatesa Iyengar, Prof. N. S. Phadke, K. Chandrasekharan and Adivi Bapiraju knew something of one another’s achievement. This work Triveni will always endeavour to do, even when the emphasis shifts in some measure to translation from one Indian language into another. English is the means of establishing contacts with many peoples in many lands, and any service rendered through English is definitely service to the cause of international goodwill.

He Served the Lord

Sri C. Ramanujachariar was a devotee of the Lord and served Him by steadfast adherence to the Gita message of unselfish action. He and his cousin, the late Ramaswami Iyengar, were familiar to the public of South India as ‘Ramu’ and ‘Ramanju’. They were Government officials working in the Madras Secretariat. They were interested in the fine arts, and Sri Ramanujachariar distinguished himself as an actor. People still remember the splendid manner in which he played the role of King Dasaratha. The Madras Secretariat Dramatic Association staged dramas in every part of the old Presidency of Madras and collected large sums for the maintenance of the Ramakrishna Students’ Home in Mylapore, which owed its inception and growth to these cousins. The stalwarts of the Madras Bar, from Sri V. Krishnaswami Aiyar to Sri Alladi Krishnaswami Aiyar, recognised the value of this work and gave financial assistance repeatedly and generously. But it was from the large section of middle-class donors that the bulk of the funds came.

The residents of Mylapore developed a great affection for the Home and the other institutions reared by Sri Ramanujachariar. To them the very presence of ‘Ramanju’ was a benediction. So when he passed away last month, a gloom spread over this beautiful suburb and spontaneous tributes were paid to his memory. At a condolence meeting held in the Rasika Ranjani Sabha under the presidentship of the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Madras, persons from different walks of life–Rajaji, Sri S. V. Ramamurti and Sir P. T. Rajan–came together and resolved to perpetuate his memory. But they were conscious of the inadequacy of any outward memorial to one who always dwelt in the presence of the Supreme, and sought no reward except His grace. That he had in abundance.