GUEST EDITORIAL:
SOME REFLECTIONS OF TELUGU SHORT STORY
Poranki DakshinaMurty
[A paper presented at a seminar on Dravidian Poetics in Pollachi, Tamilnadu. The theme was “The Tradition of Short Story in
South India”].
Every speech community in the world has its stories to tell us. Every story lives as long as a live interest prompts the narrators to
tell and the narratees to listen—kathanOtsaaham [the interest to tell] on one side and sravanOtsaaham [the interest to listen] on
the other side. As the time went on, script was invented by the mankind. Invention of the script is a giant leap in the progress and
development of human civilization. Oral communication helped to develop written communication. A tradition for written
communication had also made its beginning at a later period. We are really fortunate to possess two traditions, one ‘oral’ and
the other ‘written’ for our all round development. We all love to cherish them and nourish them.
We know that every story that is short is not a ‘short story’. It is a specific, well-defined form or genre of modern literature known
after we came into contact with the western literature from the third quarter of the 19th century, that is, after the establishment of
the three universities in the three presidencies of Madras, Bombay and Calcutta. Stories, we have from the time immemorial, in
the oral literature. Written literature also has developed and preserved several kinds of stories in different forms in verse and
prose. Story and song are indeed twins. Stories of oral tradition and stories of written tradition have become enriched by
influencing or borrowing from each other.
To be brief in my introductory words, I would like to draw your attention to one of the interesting techniques of story telling in the
oral tradition. It is the ‘interrogative narrative technique’ of eDu cEpala katha, a story of seven fish, very popular among Telugu
children. You may be having your own versions of the story with the same or varying content, in other Dravidian languages.
The story runs like this:
anagaa anagaa oka raaju Once upon a time, there was a king.
aa raajuki eDuguru koDukulu The king had seven children.
aa EDuguru koDukulu vETaki velli EDu cEpalu teccEru.
All the seven children went on hunting and brought seven fish.
cEpalu tecchi enDalo vEsaaru. They put all the fish in the sun.
vaaTilo oka cEpa enDaledu One of the fish did not become sun-baked.
“cEpaa, cEpaa, enduku enDaledu?” “O fish, why are you not sun-baked?”
“dubbu aDDu vaccindi” “A tuft of grass had cast a shadow.
“dubbuu, dubbuu, enduku aDDu vacchaavu?”
“O tuft, O tuft, why did you cast a shadow?”
“aavu mEyaledu.” “The cow did not graze.”
“aavuu, aavuu, enduku mEyalEdu?” “O cow, O cow, why did you not graze?”
“aavula kaapari nannu mEpalEdu.” “The cowherd did not tend me to graze.”
“aavula kaapari, aavula kaapari, [aavunu] enduku mEpalEdu?”
“O cowherd, O cowherd, why did you not tend the cow to graze?”
“avva ganji poyyalEdu.” “Mother [mistress of the household] did not pour gruel [for me]”
“avvaa, avvaa, enduku ganji poyyalEdu?”
“O Mother, O Mother, why did you not pour gruel?”
“naa pillavaaDu EDustunnaaDu.” “My [male] child is crying.”
“pillavaaDaa, pillavaaDaa, enduku EDustunnaavu?”
“O child, O child, why are you crying?”
“ciima kuTTindi.” “An ant has pricked me.”
“ciimaa, ciimaa, enduku kuTTEvu?” “O ant, O ant, why did you prick?”
“naa bangaaru kannamlo vElu peDite kuTTanaa?”
“Why do I not prick when a finger is put in my golden [home of] hole?”
That is the story. The first five lines form an opening. The rest are questions and answers. Every occurrence has a cause and
each one throws the blame [cause] on another. The story, in the conversational part, with an effect and ends with a cause. In a
reversal order of the events, a flashback, the story gradually unwinds.
Surprisingly, I found the same technique used in one of the nursery rhymes of remote Assam (as quoted by Birendra
Bhattacharya, NARRATIVE – A seminar, Sahitya Akademi, 1990). The story is like this:
“The nursery rhyme begins with a flower.
“Flower, Flower, why don’t you bloom?” The flower replies, “The cow has eaten the shoot. Why should I bloom?”
Then the interrogator turns to the cow and asks, “Cow, cow, why do you eat the shoot?” The cow replies, “The cowherd does not
tend, why should I not eat?”
It goes on:
“Cowherd! Cowherd! Why don’t you tend the cow?
The cook does not serve rice, why should I tend?
Cook! Cook! Why don’t you serve rice?
The woodcutter does not give firewood, why should I cook?
Woodcutter! Woodcutter! Why don’t you give firewood?
The blacksmith does not supply chopper, why should I give? …”
The blacksmith blames the fireman, the fireman blames the clouds, which were to send rain. When interrogated, the clouds
blame the frog, which refuses to croak. The frog defends itself by saying that it is not in its nature. The primitive narrator, who is
also the interrogator, is evidently convinced that the frog’s croaking causes the rains. The first event in the nursery rhyme deals
with frog; it does not croak. Then the events follow in a certain causal order in time in real life, ultimately compelling the flower not
to bloom. The narrator reverses the order and narrates the events as it were in a flashback (p.34).
In all folk narratives, the essential technique of narration (that is, depicting the events in a certain imaginative and psychological
order in time) is invariably found.
“A close look at ancient literature may reveal narrative patterns that will give modern writers hints on how to revitalize their art.” (p.
34).
Seeing the usefulness of this interrogative narrative technique, I adopted it, some four decades ago in one of my stories written in
a satirical way, as a small story within the main story, like box kept in a bigger box—dealing with the drudgery of a proof-reader
employed in a private printing press. The small story, like the story of ‘seven fish’ runs in probing reasons for several mistakes
and howlers that have crept into a textbook. As the ant given reason for pricking the finger of a child, the English Medium of
Instruction blames the Telugu Medium for all the errors printed in the book.
Another important thing I want to share with you, is about a clear-cut specific definition of short story. It is generally said that the
prominent theoreticians of Sanskrit Poetics like Dhanjaya, Bhaamata, DAndi, Vaamana, Rudrata, Anandavardhana, Mammata,
Hemachandra and Viswanatha, did not pay much attention to the technique of short story that can be found useful for us. Of
course, there are varied classifications of prose fiction like paryaayabandham, sankalakathaa, upakathaa, mahakathaa etc.
Agnipuraanam (Chapter 337.12) also had mentioned some of them: akhaayikaa, kathaa, khandakathaa, parikathaa tathaa/
kathaanikEti manyante gadyakaavyam ca pancadhaa. Prose fiction is of five kinds, says the author of AgnipuraaNam. A definition
of short story was also given in the same chapter:
Bhayaanakam sukhaparam garbhe ca karuNaarasah
adbhutO ante sukluptaarthaa nOdaatta saa kathaanikaa.
Thus we can proudly say that the credit of giving a clear-cut definition of short story—kathaanikaa—goes to India, through
AgnipuraaNam.
One more interesting thing worth-mentioning is a rich variety of stories identified by Somadeva (11th century A.D.), the author of
kathaasaritsaggaram. He used seventeen kinds of epithets that qualify several stories (as quoted by Prof. Nalini Sudhale in her
book, Katha In Sanskrit Poetics, published by the Sanskrit Akademi, Osmania University, Hyderabad-7, pp.555-56.):
1. ramya: Katha should be pleasing to the mind;
2. hrudya: It should touch one’s heart;
3. haariNii: It should be captivating and the listener should be carried away;
4. citraa: It should have brilliance of content and strikingness of expression;
5. udaaraa: It should have richness of import;
6. vicitraarthaa: It should not be monotonous; should have an element of variety;
7. aarthyaa: It should be pursposeful;
8. apuurvaa/nuutana: It should be fresh;
9. svalpaa: It can be short yet delightful to the heart;
10. divyaa: A supernatural element can make it attractive;
11. vinodhinii: It should have entertaining qualities;
12. Sikshaavatii: It can instruct even as it entertains;
13. buddhivibhavasampannaa: It should have the strength of intellect to enrich the import;
14. ruciraa: It should be interesting;
15. adbhuta vicitra ruciraa: The depiction of wonder adds to its variety and makes it more interesting;
16. mugdhaavishayaa: It can have a ‘fool’ for the subject;
17. mahaakathaa: It can also be long and can have manifold interests.
Finally, I request that I may be allowed to quote my own definition of short story given in my Ph.D. dissertation, Short Story: Its
Strutcture and Nature(1988), after discussing the views of Indian and western theoreticians:
Ekaamsavyagramayi,svayamsamagramayina
kathaatmaka vacana prakriya kathaanikaa
(Short story is a form of prose fiction that has only one theme or point of prominence and that is self-contained.)
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