Book Review| Punjab to America: Saga of a ’60s Housewife
Simply and well told, it’s a tale of people who survive the loss of their culture, who live without belonging
Susham Bedi’s Havan, published in Hindi in 1989, was first translated into English by David Rubin. Why a second translation came about is not clear, but from the little publicly available of the Rubin translation and the Hindi original, Jerry Pinto’s translation is clearly far superior.
Guddo plans a havan, the fire sacrifice of the title, in her home in New York City, ten years after arriving there. A comely widow, she has two daughters, Anima and Tanima, both in their teens at the time of her migration, both good students, both to be married off, and a son, Raju.
Before she came to America, she dithered about whether to go: She had just lost her husband. The lack of support from her in-laws and from her own family convinced her that she would be better off in America. Her youngest sister Anita persuaded her, sending her tickets for herself and Raju, while the girls both stayed back in hostels.
Guddo had another sister in New York, Gita, also married, closer to her in years but not otherwise. Despite her doing most of the housework for whichever sister she stayed with, it became clear very soon that she would have to make her own way. She found work at a newspaper stall near a railway station, and a humble place of her own. That job ended when a pistol-wielding arm thrust in through the stall window robbed her of the day’s takings. The unsympathetic owner, also an Indian, told her that there were lots of jobs, and plenty of people available to do them: she left, giving up a week’s wages.
Staying with Anita, she did get another job, discovering soon that she was expected to do her job and most of the housework. She found herself another job, and moved out to live on her own. Bound by the values she imbibed through her life in India, she took care of her responsibilities. She kept Raju’s studies going, and managed eventually to arrange for Anima and Tanima to come to America as well.
Yet she found those very values under continuous attack, and struggled to keep to them, with a few significant failures. There was useful Mr Batra, married and a father, who, back in India, made a pass at her in a car. When she rebuffed him, he asked only for a single lock of hair from “down there”, as Pinto’s translation delicately puts it. Years later, he turned up in New York, and she gave in to him, though she felt cheapened afterward. And then it turned out that his pregnant daughter Mita plans to deliver her child in the US so that it will get citizenship… Then there was pleasant Dr Juneja, also married, who got her drunk beforehand, and with whom she continues.
By the time of the havan, her greatest sense of loss is with regard to her three children. Anima completes her PhD and lands a respectable job, and marries Rakesh, who expects a docile Indian wife and gets something very different. Anima walks out on Rakesh, much to Guddo’s horror. Tanima, who marries another doctor, Anuj, is wound up with making money, and has given up her dream of returning to India to found a clinic. And Raju, with a degree in computer science, lands a good job, but grows distant. Nothing survives the havan. Nothing survives that fire…
Simply and well told, it’s a tale of people who survive the loss of their culture, who live without belonging. The story might have been written four decades ago, but it still strikes a chord. Guddo’s character with all its quirks and strengths shines through the telling. The relatives who hurt her are no villains, but people driven by their own compulsions. And, most of all, parts of the tale resurface in your mind long after you read it.
The Fire Sacrifice
By Susham Bedi
Tr. Jerry Pinto
Speaking Tiger
pp. 232; Rs 499