An explorer of existence /Sudip Chattopadhyay
First of all I do attribute that what I am going to write is
neither a review nor a critique, only my feelings I have developed after
reading the collection of graphical text, ‘Kika Cutout’ of Subimal Misra.
Before
this collection I was not acquainted with any other work of the author. So, for
me, it is very difficult to express even a few words on him who has been travelling
the world of Bengali literature for more than forty years. All the readers of Misra are earnestly beseeched
to consider my effort as a glimpse of this unsung genius. This book contains
three short stories (according to general terminology), and an uncommon
obituary on the great Bengali novelist, Sandipan Chattopadhyay along with the
rest of tropic.
When Bengali
literature is running into doldrums, when a very few utterly selfless and
dedicated writers like Kamal Kumar Majumdar, Amiyabhusan Majumdar and Sandipan
Chattopadhyay bade us adieu from their mortal abode living the field of Bengali
literature as almost a barren land; being the true successor of them Subimal
Misra is restoring harmony of the unconventional sphere of Bengali literature.
Misra’s paradoxical
treatment of theme and multidimensional plot along with sharp cuts present a
cinematic view to the reader and the reader himself is bound to weave a
parallel story that is totally interlinked by with the main vision.
Thus Misra is a
writer with difference to whom writing a story is not just fleshing a few
imaginary characters and telling a story, demanding of the audience little more
than passive attention. The way of looking at different things for Misra is
unique, completely different from others. In the first story, ‘Syphilis Holeo
Lenin Lenin-i’, he pits his man against numerous women with the sensual lust.
And also his woman travels the same path but with different experience, and at
the end of the story his man receives a great mental blow that elevates him to
an admirable élan. The whole story is led by a vivacious composition of Lenin.
Thus the author boldly posits his characters in the map of his historiography.
The second story
‘Jalchhalchhal’ really enchants us by his languages and vision. It welcomes us
to a surrealistic world, but at the same time the author throws us into the
stark reality but assimilating some heart rending facts those are going on our
society. The author efficiently plays with ‘time’ and ‘space’ and hideously
scathes our real existence.
The last story
of this collection is also a collage that reminds us the bitter experience of
history -- the inhuman activity of militia exodus; destitute people one after
another, and with this some contemporary facts and facets are juxtaposed. The
author’s critical treatment and naked representation of vulgarity and
voluptuousness of mankind cast a traumatic experience on us. Volleys of
unanswered questions arise in our minds – What is civilization? What is the
actual goal of civilization? What is the real agenda of politics? What role has
been setup for the grass root people by our so-called civilized society?
Subimal Misra is
a compelling writer whose works explore the notions of conflict that individuals
undergo when searching for their true identities. One does not need to wend
one’s way through the intricate labyrinths of our social milieu or analyses
complex philosophies to know why. One just has to look at these oddly
disturbing presentations of the author through his short stories.
It is very
important to notice minutely the form, style and theme through which we can
avail ourselves to receive the surrealistic attachment to magic reality, and
also can enjoy the taste of graphic literature; very often he ruffles
establishment feathers, and lashes the middle class sentiment bitterly by
incorporating slang, sex and violence. He does not disguise his loathsome wrath
for the ‘so-called’ civilized society and its mentors. He arrests our
‘collateral-damaged’ heart; our lunatic existence tastes the cacophony. He gears
up our soul, we are startled by his repetitive hammering that aware us of our
unpredictable beings who have a burning desire to touch feathers were fallen
apart many years ago in the midst of palpable world of civilization-- a
civilization that points out a hazy, smug zenith, but in true sense, is crippled
to indicate the right path to flourish the mankind.
Like the other unconventional
writers such as Kafka, Borges, Marquez, Kundera, etc; Misra has also come in
the field of literature not for delivering some clichéd maxims, his utmost
effort is to find out the entity of mankind. For from any gospel or preaching
he start his journey through the ‘seven deadly sins’ and distinguishes our
naked disposition. He affirms us that no word can be obscene or blasphemous in
literature and in respect with its significance in our life.
In true sense,
Subimal Misra is neither a historian nor a prophet; he is an explorer of
existence, a worshipper of truth.