Here is Dr. Sarojini Sahoo, a trendsetter in post-modern Indian (Odia) literature, who is painfully aware of the suffering and torture of the ‘second sex’ in a male-dominated society.
Harsha, the protagonist of the novel, is given in marriage at the age of nineteen against her wish, at the desire and insistence of her grandfather, who was an orthodox Brahmin of Puri. She was a very good student and dreamed of becoming an I.A.S or so, after completing her post-graduation. Her colourful dreams and aspirations are shattered to pieces with her marriage to a doctor who is thoroughly addicted to drinking. She is totally disillusioned by the man’s ill treatment, his unbearable possessiveness as if the wife is an instrument for the gratification of the wild passion. The man is a very good surgeon but too brutal to touch the heart of a young girl. When her torture, physical and mental, becomes intolerable, she deserts her husband and comes back to her parents, determined never to go back. She joins a course in Journalism in Delhi University. During her stay in Delhi, she develops an association with a visiting professor in Philosophy named Alberto whom she meets at the Car Festival in Puri. Alberto is a Portuguese and has immense respect and interest for Indian philosophy, her ancient history and heritage. At the beginning he suggests to Harsha to play the game of questions-and-answers, a common game in Portugal, to know each other and come closer. This game provides a greater scope and also a powerful medium to the novelist to bring in myths, stories and anecdotes from the Bhagabat, the Mahabharat and also eminent personalities of the East and the West. The questions-and-answers reveal the personal likes and dislikes of both Harsha and Alberto, throwing adequate light on their characters. Eventually, they are drawn to each other and tied in the bond of love. Harsha is glad for the revival of a new life, a fresh urge to live with the foreigner friend and lover. The woman for whom all the doors were apparently closed from all quarters finds the new found love reinvigorating and life-sustaining. She unhesitatingly accompanies Alberto to Rishikesh and they are lost in the amazing beauty and splendour of nature, there they are physically united. It is for her a fulfilment and consummation. But Alberto claiming himself to be a Buddhist and believing in abstinence does not take this physical relationship normally.
In the meantime the husband of Harsha reaches Delhi in search of her, forcibly takes her to a hotel with the exclusive right of an owner and assaults her sexually, regardless of her mind and heart. After she is raped in the hotel room, she somehow escapes from her monstrous husband when he lay unconscious. She tries her best to hide from him moving here and there, and finally she goes to Alberto’s place with the hope of finding a safe shelter. She has a strong faith in his love, but is disappointed. When Alberto describes his meeting with another girl in Benares who impresses him with her knowledge of the old city and Indian philosophy and when he calls the new girl ‘wonderful’, jealousy as it were, Harsha cannot bear this candid admiration of the Benares girl. His interest, as it seems, is acquisition of knowledge about India, his relationship with Harsha is only an escapade during his stay here. A realization dawns upon her that there is absolutely no difference between that man and Alberto: “For that man Harsha was a plate of rice which he would devour like a cow and for Alberto, she was a book which he would underline every page of it. Both would use Harsha in their own ways. The truth remains that she is used. The man would go leaving out the plate after eating and Alberto would throw away the book. But why should they?”
The protest of Harsha is loud and clear. She leaves the place of Alberto in total distrust of the so called love. On the way she thinks of going back to Alberto but reaches her own room. When she opens the room, she was awe-struck to find that beast in red rolling eyes sitting tightly on the cot to exert his ownership over her. The novel ends here with an existential choice: whether she is bound to go with the man or she would take an extreme step. However, when the question of deleting the mobile number of Alberto arises in her mind, the novel concludes with the line, “Let it be there.”
The novel raises a number of pertinent questions, the issues discussed are really perplexing. Is a woman an individual with her own will and freedom of choice? Is the ‘second sex’ destined to be used and exploited? Can she maintain a separate and independent existence without any social taboos, scandals and character assassination? Can she not sever her marital relationship in the wake of discord and disharmony? Can she unlock her heart freely? All such questions have varied answers depending on space and time and also attitudes and mindsets of people. Thinking minds and feeling hearts have dwelt upon them assiduously. However, Dr. Sahoo envisages a world order celebrating equality of both the sexes, despite the biological differences between the two which she considers quite natural and marginal. She boldly affirms that a woman is free to express her sexuality with no ambiguity and inhibition. There should be no gender bias, no discrimination, she advocates. For her, she is a beautiful creation of God with equal potentialities like her male counterpart, an integral part of the whole. Her sufferings and torture are unwarranted and unfortunate. She cannot ordinarily carve out a separate identity extricating herself from the soul-killing society. Can she make her life meaningful, and the world livable by embracing her will and choice?
The woman represents ‘Shakti’, the dynamic source of energy and creation, but in the present scenario, she is engulfed by sorrow and depression. The protagonist is a sad replica of the divine feminine, in perpetual depression. The title bears testimony to it. In addition to the rich content, the novel adopts a new technique of narration, truly innovative. The plot unfolds through the game of questions-and-answers making a brilliant exposition of Indian myths, puranas and legends; various allusions to the East and the West are illuminating. Sarojini’s range of mythology, history and culture is superb and provides an interesting study of the feminine psyche.
Excerpt
A scene of marital rape from the novel ‘Goddess in Exile’, published by Authorspress , Delhi, India.
“She was as if on the operation table
A body senseless shrouded by a white sheet
The heartless man under a green mask and in green apron
Eyes glowing
Knife in one hand and a forcep in the other
Her sorrows and agony unreachable to him
His throbbing heart alien to poetry and love
As if he knew only
the parts of the heart, veins and arteries,
Heart was merely a pumping machine
Quite unaware of the region where a line
Of poetry lay hidden.
The man treated Harsha as a lump of flesh
to be squeezed and pressed
She lay on the operation table
A motionless body in pain
Her groaning never reached him.
His both hands in glove
On her pair of soft and tender blossoms
His hands harsh bereft of any thrill
The titillating touch could have excited her
But she was hurt and wounded
The beastly man entered the dark lane with a knife
As if hungry for a long time
To satiate the insatiable.
Yes, to quench the insatiable hunger."
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Harsha was thrilled recapitulating the afternoon experience. She had bared out her body on Alberto’s bed exhausted after love-making. She didn’t know how all these things happened. Harsha had displayed her showcase of sorrows, which she had never done earlier before anybody. All the suppressed agonies were let loose from a closed cell after a long time. Have some tears rolled on along with the sorrows? Why did Alberto lift her up to his chest? The long standing stillness of their bodies suddenly broke and both of them unconsciously merged with each other.
She felt sleepy at the tender touch of Alberto. She began to melt down at a moment she knew not.
< An Excerpt from the novel ‘Goddess in Exile’>
She stretched herself bare like the fodder to be eaten
Lord had leaned upon her with passionate hunger
A wild fire ran through all her veins
To be extinguished by the hope of the Lord
Showed He the ‘Biswarupa’ the mystery of creation
The original source of energy, all the worldly essences of science
The Lord bowed down with folded hands
Saw the apple in the garden of Eden, setting aside the creepers and bushes
Licked the first softness with the tongue of Basuki
To the last drop of the pot of nectar on the lips
Satan also changed at the moment
What was apparently a sin, I thought
Now turned into a merit (Punya).
Harsha lay on the bed contented like an enkindled soul. Alberto also lay supine on the bed. It was difficult to delve deep into the recesses of his mind. As though he had given everything and become penniless. Harsha was afraid to touch him. Both of them were speechless. Nothing to speak, neither a thing of joy nor sorrow.
As though she experienced it for the first time: an overflowing warmth in her body. Her life had attained a fulfilment at the very first union, uncanny though. Of course, Alberto lay beside her lifeless. Setting his legs aside slowly, Harsha got up from the bed. But Alberto continued in the same posture. She was eager to softly move her hand on Alberto’s body, and read his feelings. She wanted to know the feelings of Alberto. This unimpressive man also appeared to her as the most handsome; she called: ‘Alberto.’
Alberto got up and sat leaning against the cot. An indefinable void in his look. As if he had been internally torn to pieces and had been totally drained out of his energy. Somewhere was there an agony: it was clearly perceptible in his eyes. Harsha hesitated to speak anything. Alberto smiled but it did not naturally go with the depression writ large on his face.
Are you all right, Alberto? Are you not unhappy? She wanted to put a lot of such questions, but was afraid to do so. It is quite natural for a woman to be upset at such an incident. She had to brood over with a sense of guilt, her existence would have been shattered to pieces. Harsha would have felt as if she had lost everything, but it was other way round. Was Alberto unhappy because his abstinence was gone? Has this Buddhist been battered both in heart and soul by his sense of sin stemming out of his transgression? Is the man who firmly believed in abstinence unhappy for treading on the path of instinct? No, it was not the time to raise such questions. It is better to leave him alone: ‘Let me go, Alberto’, said Harsha. He uttered in a half awakened state: ‘Bye’. He did not come even to see her off. Harsha came out of the place with a tremendous sense of distress and pain.
Harsha felt as if a sage had broken down in grief for moral degradation. Whatever happened was not at all predestined but only an accident. A dormant desire as though had been waiting for a chance to be quenched. Both of them had entered an enchanting world, having been under the magical spell for a moment. Alberto had forgotten about ‘Nirvana’ (Salvation), Harsha also forgot her frigidity, her agony.
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Harsha and Alberto. Eventually, they are drawn to each other and tied in the bond of love. Harsha is glad for the revival of a new life, a fresh urge to live with the foreigner friend and lover. The woman for whom all the doors were apparently closed from all quarters finds the new found love reinvigorating and life-sustaining. She unhesitatingly accompanies Alberto to Rishikesh and they are lost in the amazing beauty and splendour of nature :
< An Excerpt from the novel ‘Goddess in Exile’>
When the dark clouds shrouded all around
Give signals of downpour of torrential rain
A gush of cold wind,
With the drops of rain, drip, drop, drop;
The dry earth gets wet
The spiralling warm smell of the soil stirs the mind
and maddens the heart
Where would she hide herself?
Where are the walls and the protecting roof?
Where is that loving lap of promises?
Leaving the deep dense forest
Can she lie in mother’s lap protected?
Should she hide herself?
Can she avoid the smell pungent of the soil?
The fall of incessant rains
No, no fear for hailstorm nor lightning
No mind to go back leaving the deep dense forest
She could know as if a drop of rain
Flowed down her undergarments secretly,
moved towards the pair of tender flowers
Without the notice of anybody and with the touches
When eyes were closing in happiness
the rain held her in close clasps.
While enjoying the affection of rain
All through the body she understood
nothing is there in her control.
Being exhausted she would know
the down pour of rain on the body
Her mortal coil submerged under water
The rain all through her veins and arteries
She had nothing to do
And she could do nothing.
(Note for readers: It is for Harsha a fulfilment and consummation. But Alberto claiming himself to be a Buddhist and believing in abstinence does not take this physical relationship normally.)
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Harsha, the protagonist of the novel, married to a male chauvinist doctor who is thoroughly addicted to alcohol, to whom she deserts and comes back to her parents, determined never to go back. During her stay in Delhi, she develops an association with a visiting professor in Philosophy named Alberto whom she meets at the Car Festival in Puri. Alberto is a Portuguese and has immense respect and interest for Indian philosophy, her ancient history and heritage. But did they love?
Below, a realization of Harsha, excerpted from the novel Goddess in Exile.:
Now I have to return along the road
that I have trodden for the last one year.
Some familiar trees
some houses known
know not whether they are still there at the particular places?
Walked along together for one year
In order to get over the fatigue of walking
I unlocked my grief stricken heart
And you simply nodded like the fairytale Prince.
Because you were there by my side
I did not look at the yellow birds on the road
Nor did I care to glance at the rainbow
Nor did I look at the tiny mud-coated bodies of small children
Nor did I see the sprouting or withering of flower petals
But you simply nodded your head like the fairytale Prince.
Never did you tell your sorrow
What kind of journey is this?
How long one can walk together
With a traveller like you ?
Your ego devoured you each time and takes you out,
Every time you get depressed and take rebirth
before you said something.
Ego is the sandals of your feet
the dress of your body
the glasses of your eyes
your wrist watch
and the powder of your face.
So many days we walked together
I narrated my sorrow and you simply nodded
You were so hard beneath a simple ‘yes’
Had I known earlier, I would have enjoyed
the yellow birds on the boughs
the rainbow in the sky, the muddied small children.
After making an insurance of tremendous faith and hope
when I knew
that your pocket contains the plan of a future town.
With the addresses of the motels and the brothels
I know that your new town is ahead
And you will be lost in the crowd, but you will carry
With you my sorrowful story that I narrated during our walk together.
My second book is about a boy who has Asperger's Syndrome and is bullied to the point to where he shoots up his school. I have divided the excerpts from it into three parts: Before, during and after the shooting.
As deafness, illness, and demonic forces close in around him, Ludwig van Beethoven must summon his faith and genius to complete the Missa Solemnis—a sacred masterpiece he believes could bring divine light into a darkening world.
A teenage boy struggling with the coming-of-age issues of sexuality, religion, and peer approval is overwhelmed, but soldiers on. After several years, he comes to understand the family forces that have left him so deeply troubled, and the process of
