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Love and Loss
Jayakanthan’s Love and Loss is a sensitive ‘slice of life’ story that explores the lives of Thangam, a construction worker and her son Chitti. The squalid slums of erstwhile Madras, now Chennai, form the grimy background to the tender drama of a woman trying to find an anchor to her life.
- GenresLove
160 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2008
18 people are currently reading
254 people want to read
About the author
Jayakanthan
132 books687 followersDhandapani Jeyakanthan, otherwise known as 'JK' among his friends and comrades, is a multi-dimensional personality, well known in the literary circle as a prolific writer, commentator, pamphleteer, film-maker and critic. He has won acclaim for wielding his pen against social injustices and economic inequality. Jeyakanthan was born in a family of agriculturists in Manjakuppam, a suburb of Cuddalore of the erstwhile Madras Presidency. Brought up by his mother and maternal uncles, he got interested in politics at a young age as his uncles were actively involved in it. Jeyakanthan dropped himself out of school after completing fifth grade, as he thought studies would hinder his political activism.
In 1946, he left for Chennai in search of livelihood, where he performed odd jobs, before ending up as a compositor in the printing press of Communist Party of India (CPI). His association with the CPI instilled the ideas of the movement, where he got to accompany leaders such as P. Jeevanandham, Baladandayutham and S. Ramakrishnan. The leaders of the party encouraged him to write. After graduating to an active member of the party, he got to learn about topics pertaining to world literature, culture, politics, economics and journalism. It was during this time, Jeyakanthan started writing for pro-communist magazines. Over the next few years, he established himself as one of the top-most writers in the party. His early works were first published in the party newspaper Janasakthi, and soon other magazines like Sarasvathi, Thamarai, Santhi, Manithan, Sakthi and Samaran published his works. His early works focused on the plight of slum-dwellers who were settled in and around the party office.
Jeyakanthan was married to his cousin. The couple had two daughters and a son. Jeyakanthan wrote his first short story for a Tamil magazine titled Sowbakiyavathi, which got it published in 1953. Following early success, Jeyakanthan started writing for mainstream magazines such as Ananda Vikatan, Kumudam and Dinamani Kadir, who published a number of short stories, particularly in the 1960s. In 1964, Jayakanthan entered films by co-producing and directing a venture titled Unnaipol Oruvan, based on his novel.
His writings reflect his views on the morals, ethics and the societal norms as a whole. His writings are vivid portrayals of life and relationships, with all the intricacies and beauty of reality, and with a profound love for humanity. He is one among the few of the original writers of the Tamil Literature. He is a man of insight, pride and scholarship whose writings expressed with unparalleled courage and utmost honesty speaks for all the generations to come. A winner of Sahitya Acadamy Award and Fellowship, Jnanpita Award, Soviet Land Nehru Award, the Russian Federation's Order of Friendship and the Padma Bhushan.
In 1946, he left for Chennai in search of livelihood, where he performed odd jobs, before ending up as a compositor in the printing press of Communist Party of India (CPI). His association with the CPI instilled the ideas of the movement, where he got to accompany leaders such as P. Jeevanandham, Baladandayutham and S. Ramakrishnan. The leaders of the party encouraged him to write. After graduating to an active member of the party, he got to learn about topics pertaining to world literature, culture, politics, economics and journalism. It was during this time, Jeyakanthan started writing for pro-communist magazines. Over the next few years, he established himself as one of the top-most writers in the party. His early works were first published in the party newspaper Janasakthi, and soon other magazines like Sarasvathi, Thamarai, Santhi, Manithan, Sakthi and Samaran published his works. His early works focused on the plight of slum-dwellers who were settled in and around the party office.
Jeyakanthan was married to his cousin. The couple had two daughters and a son. Jeyakanthan wrote his first short story for a Tamil magazine titled Sowbakiyavathi, which got it published in 1953. Following early success, Jeyakanthan started writing for mainstream magazines such as Ananda Vikatan, Kumudam and Dinamani Kadir, who published a number of short stories, particularly in the 1960s. In 1964, Jayakanthan entered films by co-producing and directing a venture titled Unnaipol Oruvan, based on his novel.
His writings reflect his views on the morals, ethics and the societal norms as a whole. His writings are vivid portrayals of life and relationships, with all the intricacies and beauty of reality, and with a profound love for humanity. He is one among the few of the original writers of the Tamil Literature. He is a man of insight, pride and scholarship whose writings expressed with unparalleled courage and utmost honesty speaks for all the generations to come. A winner of Sahitya Acadamy Award and Fellowship, Jnanpita Award, Soviet Land Nehru Award, the Russian Federation's Order of Friendship and the Padma Bhushan.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
September 8, 2007
I read this book a few months back. It's an intense story of a mother and son. Here is an extract I liked the most in the book.
There he was! His hands inside the side pockets of his blue shorts, his hair spilling over his ears and shoulders—no hair cut for three months… He appeared like a lion to Thangam.
He came and stood near her.
Staring at her right foot that extended outside the white sheet covering her, he stood with his head bowed, still not looking at her face.
‘Chitti…how come you are here!’ she asked in a weak voice, her eyes glistening, as if addressing some unknown person.
Chitti looked at her face for a moment. It appeared to be someone else’s; he looked a moment longer.
‘My master told me to… so I have come.’ Chitti mumbled, bowing his head, and fidgeting with the sheet covering her.
‘Let that noble man be blessed.’ Her lips moved. How elated Chitti’s master would have been, if he had heard the sincere prayer of a mother’s grateful heart!
She kept looking at him. He kept kneading the sheet.
Chitti felt a voice inside her heart telling him: ‘Oh! In the three months, you think you’ve become a different person! Come on, call me ‘Amma’. Won’t you? I have carried you for ten months inside me, and brought you up for thirteen years on my lap—have all those ties been severed? Oh! Chitti, you are sensitive; a very sensitive boy!’
But another voice spoke inside Chitti: ‘I have no grouse and I wear no mask! I am not able to call you ‘Amma’. I had already told you that you’re no longer my Amma. And, how can I call you that now? No. It is impossible for me to do so. After all, I’ve come here to see a mother. Is it not enough?’
‘Chitti…’ It was Thangam. She moved her emaciated and trembling hand from under the sheet with considerable effort, and held his hand. As the sheet parted, the dark scar above her hip hit his eyes. Immediately he pulled the sheet up with his other hand.
With a wan smile, Thangam appreciated his effort to protect her honour.
‘Chitti…’ She tried to press his hand.
‘Hmm…’ he moaned in reply. He could still not call her ‘Amma’.
‘Are you still angry with me?’
‘No.’ he shook his head.
‘No. You’re angry with me. I know that.’ He heard her murmur, but he continued to remain unmoved.
With a grim determination that she should speak to him, whatever the effort involved, she continued: ‘Don’t say that you aren’t angry with me. I am truly proud…that you are angry with me…that you are ashamed of me. Yes Kannu. I grew without a father or an elder brother to chastise me, to get angry with me. My father was very timid… With no one who would be ashamed of my misconduct, I acted waywardly without any control, and earned a bad name, even at a very young age. What to do? Only out of that shame, I gave birth to a sensitive son like you, full of self-esteem.’ she was getting out of breath.
‘Sit here…’ she pointed to a corner of the cot.
Unwilling, yet unable to refuse, Chitti reluctantly obliged.
After a while, she collected herself, and told him in a soft and weak voice: ‘Chitti! I had lost my honour even before you were born. And, how can you save it now? Look here… This is your younger sister. Yes, just like you, she grew in the same womb for ten months… Your own blood… Initially, I was apprehensive about the misfortune that might be in store for her, as a girl. … But, if I had had an elder brother like you, I wouldn’t have turned out like this. So, don’t ever give up your righteous anger and sense of honour. For people like us, this is a great asset, an invisible shield of security! Didn’t you see the child? Here… your younger sister…all pristine purity… sustain your anger towards me and bring her up as you like, according to your norms, my dear son! Only if you bring her up in the manner that you will be proud of her, will your an
There he was! His hands inside the side pockets of his blue shorts, his hair spilling over his ears and shoulders—no hair cut for three months… He appeared like a lion to Thangam.
He came and stood near her.
Staring at her right foot that extended outside the white sheet covering her, he stood with his head bowed, still not looking at her face.
‘Chitti…how come you are here!’ she asked in a weak voice, her eyes glistening, as if addressing some unknown person.
Chitti looked at her face for a moment. It appeared to be someone else’s; he looked a moment longer.
‘My master told me to… so I have come.’ Chitti mumbled, bowing his head, and fidgeting with the sheet covering her.
‘Let that noble man be blessed.’ Her lips moved. How elated Chitti’s master would have been, if he had heard the sincere prayer of a mother’s grateful heart!
She kept looking at him. He kept kneading the sheet.
Chitti felt a voice inside her heart telling him: ‘Oh! In the three months, you think you’ve become a different person! Come on, call me ‘Amma’. Won’t you? I have carried you for ten months inside me, and brought you up for thirteen years on my lap—have all those ties been severed? Oh! Chitti, you are sensitive; a very sensitive boy!’
But another voice spoke inside Chitti: ‘I have no grouse and I wear no mask! I am not able to call you ‘Amma’. I had already told you that you’re no longer my Amma. And, how can I call you that now? No. It is impossible for me to do so. After all, I’ve come here to see a mother. Is it not enough?’
‘Chitti…’ It was Thangam. She moved her emaciated and trembling hand from under the sheet with considerable effort, and held his hand. As the sheet parted, the dark scar above her hip hit his eyes. Immediately he pulled the sheet up with his other hand.
With a wan smile, Thangam appreciated his effort to protect her honour.
‘Chitti…’ She tried to press his hand.
‘Hmm…’ he moaned in reply. He could still not call her ‘Amma’.
‘Are you still angry with me?’
‘No.’ he shook his head.
‘No. You’re angry with me. I know that.’ He heard her murmur, but he continued to remain unmoved.
With a grim determination that she should speak to him, whatever the effort involved, she continued: ‘Don’t say that you aren’t angry with me. I am truly proud…that you are angry with me…that you are ashamed of me. Yes Kannu. I grew without a father or an elder brother to chastise me, to get angry with me. My father was very timid… With no one who would be ashamed of my misconduct, I acted waywardly without any control, and earned a bad name, even at a very young age. What to do? Only out of that shame, I gave birth to a sensitive son like you, full of self-esteem.’ she was getting out of breath.
‘Sit here…’ she pointed to a corner of the cot.
Unwilling, yet unable to refuse, Chitti reluctantly obliged.
After a while, she collected herself, and told him in a soft and weak voice: ‘Chitti! I had lost my honour even before you were born. And, how can you save it now? Look here… This is your younger sister. Yes, just like you, she grew in the same womb for ten months… Your own blood… Initially, I was apprehensive about the misfortune that might be in store for her, as a girl. … But, if I had had an elder brother like you, I wouldn’t have turned out like this. So, don’t ever give up your righteous anger and sense of honour. For people like us, this is a great asset, an invisible shield of security! Didn’t you see the child? Here… your younger sister…all pristine purity… sustain your anger towards me and bring her up as you like, according to your norms, my dear son! Only if you bring her up in the manner that you will be proud of her, will your an
March 6, 2022
It is a moving story, but reads like a 60s Tamil film- not surprising because this was made into one (உன்னைப் போல் ஒருவன், 1965). While the book attempts to stands against societal views on morality, especially in those stricken by poverty, it is rife with the same perspective. It justifies the ‘immoral’ ways without questioning the very idea. It can possibly be condoned as a product of its time.
July 11, 2020
"In the brief moment of silence that ensued, both of them were speechless - he, because he did not know what to do next, and she, from the fear of what he might decide to do."
.
Set in 1960's Madras (Chennai) Thangam bore Chittibabu when she was a 14 year old girl. It's been 12 years since Chitti's dad betrayed her after getting her pregnant; she was an ardent construction worker, a loving mother and that too, a devoted one. Chitti adored his mother. The only person Chitti respectes is Thondar Doraikannu; he inspires all the good in Chitti, turning him into a responsible son. In an overnight, it all changes when Thangam brings home her lover, Manickam, a parrot fortune teller. Thangam has begotten his child & she wants to have a real family after 12 years of solitude. Chitti finds Thangam's decision repulsive. He rebels back to show his resentment towards his "whoring", "slut", "lustful" mother. He despises his mother. His rebellious activities, drive a wedge between Thangam & Manickam. In Manickam's attempt to bring Chitti home, he leaves pregnant Thangam. Chitti taunts Thangam and leaves her for his life's betterment & peacefulness. After a while, he recieves an ill news about Thangam. Will the broken hearts be mended? Will loving one ways end up in the loss of a beloved one?
.
In theory, it focuses mostly on the Oedipal Complex; Chitti being jealous towards Manickam, usage of profanity towards Thangam, his understanding of love and sex at the age of 12. But it also talks about the plight of people during 1960's when cigarette's were smoked by children of 10 & 12, the living conditions of slums all over Madras, the "matured kids" at an early age, child labour, and familial infidelity.
.
This is a Tamil to English translation. Surprisingly, it's sense for sense translation. It captured the original essence & portrayed the reality, beautifully. Jayakanthan's works are natural yet soul crushing.
.
Rating: 4.7/5 🌟
.
Set in 1960's Madras (Chennai) Thangam bore Chittibabu when she was a 14 year old girl. It's been 12 years since Chitti's dad betrayed her after getting her pregnant; she was an ardent construction worker, a loving mother and that too, a devoted one. Chitti adored his mother. The only person Chitti respectes is Thondar Doraikannu; he inspires all the good in Chitti, turning him into a responsible son. In an overnight, it all changes when Thangam brings home her lover, Manickam, a parrot fortune teller. Thangam has begotten his child & she wants to have a real family after 12 years of solitude. Chitti finds Thangam's decision repulsive. He rebels back to show his resentment towards his "whoring", "slut", "lustful" mother. He despises his mother. His rebellious activities, drive a wedge between Thangam & Manickam. In Manickam's attempt to bring Chitti home, he leaves pregnant Thangam. Chitti taunts Thangam and leaves her for his life's betterment & peacefulness. After a while, he recieves an ill news about Thangam. Will the broken hearts be mended? Will loving one ways end up in the loss of a beloved one?
.
In theory, it focuses mostly on the Oedipal Complex; Chitti being jealous towards Manickam, usage of profanity towards Thangam, his understanding of love and sex at the age of 12. But it also talks about the plight of people during 1960's when cigarette's were smoked by children of 10 & 12, the living conditions of slums all over Madras, the "matured kids" at an early age, child labour, and familial infidelity.
.
This is a Tamil to English translation. Surprisingly, it's sense for sense translation. It captured the original essence & portrayed the reality, beautifully. Jayakanthan's works are natural yet soul crushing.
.
Rating: 4.7/5 🌟
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews