Thursday, December 25, 2014

The Hour Before Dawn


The Hour Before Dawn
Rajen Barua
"The stars were beginning to fade in the in the patch of sky that showed through the trees towering over the rooftops. A lone star flickered to stay alive, fanned by an areca leaf swaying in the breeze. A bird screeched somewhere nearby – cheep- cheep, cheep-cheep, and a child in one of the homes let out a series of long wails. … It seemed as though the bird's call had started the crying, just as the distant howling of foxes had set the neighbourhood dogs barking a few hours ago." …That is how the novel begins, with a description of a pre dawn hour scene in a remote village in Assam.
`The Hour Before Dawn' is a translation of a famous Assamese novel `Ontorip' (projection) by late Dr Bhabendra Nath Saikia, the renowned Assamese writer and film-maker. It is also one of his best novels for which he received several literary awards including the prestigious `Assam Valley Literary Award'. Later Dr. Saikia also made the story into a popular Assamese film `Ognisnan' (fire-bath) which also won him lots of acclaim from critics as well as from his fans.  Now, Ms. Maitreyee Siddhanta, an Assamese house wife from Bangalore translated the full length original novel into English. The book is published by Penguin India. The Book is also available in www.amazon.com and other book-shops for the international readers. (ISBN:9780143063858).
Translating an Assamese novel into English is not easy. The translation  becomes even more difficult if the author happens to be a master craftsman in Assamese like Dr. Saikia whose magic in Assamese writing lies in depicting rural scene and environment with minute details. However, reading the English translation in ‘The Hour Before Dawn’, one would feel that Maitreyee Siddhanta did a good job. In real life, Maiteryee was very much influenced by the Dr. Saikia.  The translation is, as she puts it, "an attempt to bring some of Dr Sakia's magic writing to non-Assamese folks."
The story of the novel is set in pre-independence time in India in a small village in Assam that  reflects the pleasingly pastoral rural life of Assam. Behind its rustic background, it is a  haunting story of conjugal retribution not commonly seen in rural conservative Assamese society. From that aspect the story is a protest against conjugal betrayal. "She had given her husband four children, had bared her body and soul to him. Why then he wants to remarry?" That was the question with which the story unfolds, and that was also the central and lifelong question for Menoka, the heroine of the story. Menoka, unlike a typical Indian housewife, instead of accepting it as her fate, decided to take fate into her own hands. After her initial anguish, she finds new strength, and decided to revolt, and she revolted by embracing an illicit relationship with a village outcast. Thus the story shows not only an woman's inner strength in her darkest hour, but also shows the unforeseen bond that develops between unlikely people in unlikely circumstances. This is a universal theme which would be repeated in any society and in any time.
   One reason of her success may be, besides her mastery in English language, that she translated the novel with her heart.  This success of her translation can be seen for the following few samples, beside the beginning. Here is a scene where Menoka, the housewife, sets out from her house secretly, at dead of one night, for the first illicit encounter with Modon, a village outcast.
"Holding her breath, she slid the bolt with as much care as when taking off a long-worn glass bangle grown tight on one's wrist. She couldn't recall if the door cracked. Very slowly, she opened one plank. No sound yet. She squeezed through the narrow slit and eased it shut. She looked out at the darkness - what should she do now? Which part of the garden should she go? When the pounding of her heart made standing difficult, she sank on to one of the narrow steps leading down from the room. After a while, starlight seemed to dispel the darkness and she could make out the outlines of the familiar trees. Insects screeched all around her, but Menoka heard none of the noise as her ears alerted themselves to catch the slightest hint of one special sound.
Soon an indistinct form approached from the direction of the trees bordering Gojen's backyard. Menoka rose. There was still time; she could still get back to her room. She shut her eyes, drew a deep breath and slowly massaged her heart. Modon stopped a little away from the star-fruit tree. Menoka stepped down and wordlessly walked past him, into the further end of the garden. 
The tips of the bamboo drooped over to kiss the top of the jack-fruit tree. The bheleu stump lay where it was, and Menoka settled herself on one end of it. Modon came up and stood near her. They gazed deeply at each other, fully aware that each could see the other in darkness. .... 
A light, short gust blew, and something creaked in the bamboo grove. Menoka tried to speak, but the words would not come. A night patrol blew his whistle in the distance. This time, she drew herself close to Modon....." (pp 105) 
In these  translations, one can feel equally not only the emotions and excitements of human drama but also some of the magic of the original Assamese writing depicting a moonless starry night scene in a village in Assam where 'areca tree leaf`, ‘bamboo groves', `jack-fruit trees', `bhelu stumps' etc are typical rural scenes full with their own ethnic ethos. Also phrases like ‘fox howling’, ‘dog barking’, 'something creaking in the bamboo grove', 'the tips of the bamboo drooping over to kiss the top of the jack-fruit tree', ‘a night patrol blowing his whistle in the distance’ and others, not only bring alive the realty of a typical village night scenes in Assam with vivid audio-visual imagery, but also they carry their own symbolism.  Critical night scenes like these also make the title of the book "The Hour Before Dawn" very appropriate.
Here is another scene from the novel which shows the unusual courage of an Indian house-wife to speak to her husband. 
`Suddenly, her voice grew sharp again. "But why should I suffer alone? What have I gained from it? Simply suffer until I'm dead? Will I go to heaven then? Will I become a Sita or Sabitiri? For what sin of mine have I burnt in these fires of hell? My parents had taught me to emulate Sita and Sabitri. If I could not quite be like them,

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