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Death of a prophet
"I have always felt that there are two kinds of writers: those who reflect the real world with its space and life, and those who create a parallel world with its own space and life. Vijayan belonged to the second genre," observed poet and once a Vijayan clone, K. Sachidanandan, secretary of the Kendriya Sahitya Akademi in New Delhi. He said the Legend of Khazak was perhaps the most widely read Malayalam fiction, after Changapuzha Krishna Pillai’s poetic opus Ramanan.
The language media and the writers rooted in the social mores of Kerala never quite warmed up to Vijayan’s works, and to Vijayan’s eternal regret, he was never ever considered for two of the most prestigious literary awards: Saraswati Samman and Jnanpith. His English translations were not considered for major literary awards, either. No wonder, when he was selected for the Padmabhushan Award in 2003, Vijayan’s immediate reaction was, "Why me?" Away from the Malayalam literati, Vijayan was an icon of a novelist, short-story writer, cartoonist, columnist, journalist and a thinker. His economy of words, intensive brooding and blooming imagination, made his characters break the boundaries of region and religion, to gain appeal everywhere. Kushwant Singh wrote of Vijayan’s The Saga of Dharmapuri: "Not the kind of novel you forget in a hurry." In his writings, as with his drawings, his strokes were both bold and subtle, traditional and modern. An inclusive writer, his mind and the little world around him were his oyster. His first foreign trip had come much too late in life, in 2003, when he travelled to Paris, but his world vision was so panoramic that it was difficult to believe that he did not venture out often. Even though Parkinson’s disease had made his final months disconcerting, he remained as calm as a sage until he died at the age of 75 in a Hyderabad hospital, with his wife Theresa and son, Madhu, by his side. Oottupulakkal Velukutty Vijayan, born on July 2, 1930, at Palghat in Kerala, was a sickly child, who suffered from various ailments, which prevented him from going to a formal school till the age of 12. But he had a way with the craft, and with his finely etched lines and bold strokes with chalk and charcoal, had displayed early promise of his drawing skills. Expectedly, he earned his spurs first as a cartoonist before making his mark as an author. His stand-alone cartoons were not to be cast aside after a mere glance and a chuckle, but the once Left-leaning Vijayan lost his appetite for cartooning after the crash of the iron curtain. He taught English to college students for some time before coming to Delhi in 1958 at the invitation of Shankara Pillai to join the Shanker’s Weekly. He then moved to the Patriot and Link, The Hindu and The Statesman before quitting cartooning and journalism, and finally leaving Delhi, which had been his home for 42 years. Though Vijayan’s first story, Tell Me, Father Gonzalves, appeared in a Malayalam journal way back in 1953, it was not until the birth of the Legend of Kazak that Vijayan was accepted as a writer. His long years in Delhi and his association with gifted Malayalam writers and journalists living there brought out the genius in Vijayan. This group often met at the Kerala Club in Connaught Place and the members read out their unpublished works. Vijayan also had a studio in Connaught Place, which was a meeting point for friends and fans. Unable to cope with the pressures of the literary world, he made an unwilling exit from Delhi in 2000. Vijayan did not have a house of his own anywhere. His last wish that his funeral be held at his birthplace in Palghat was fulfilled, but Vijayan was laid to rest not in his own land, but at a public burial place. Vijayan was a man rooted to his bearings, as he always wore the traditional Kerala dhoti and kurta. His pet Siamese "Pooh" was as famous as Vijayan in the literary circles of Delhi, and he was touchy about his cats. Vijayan wrote six novels, nine collections of stories, a book of cartoons and a few collections of essays. He drew cartoons both in the English and Malayalam press, and his acerbic lines and words brought him international acclaim. His engagement with the Communist politics did not endear him to many, and his disillusionment with the Red Brigade eventually forced him to look inward. Kazakhinte Ithihasam came out in 1969 after 12 years of laborious drafting and redrafting. Even then, the readers could not fully comprehend Vijayan’s metaphors and imageries. It took three-four editions of the book for Vijayan to strike a rapport with them. His second novel,
Dharamapuranam, was a political satire, which was condemned for its
"imperialist" stand by the Left. The book, written before
Emergency, found a publisher only in 1985. Vijayan had said that the act
of writing the novel was a process of self-cleansing. He then wrote Guru
Sagaram, Mathuram Gayati (Sweet Music) and Pravachankate Vazhi.
He had plans to write a couple of more books, but his health
deteriorated and he died unhappy. His dream of setting up an academy for
cartoonists remained unfulfilled. |
T
Sachidanandan recommended
Vijayan’s name for the Padmabhushan Award three years ago, but Vijayan
was surprised by the choice. Vijayan’s works covered a wide range and
he invented a literary idiom hitherto unknown to the Malayalam readers.
His literary progress, like his novel Prophet’s Path
(Pravachakante Vazhikal) exemplified, was not swift. He had to tackle
hurdles, prejudice, hostile critics, and even insinuations of
plagiarism.