'नीलकंठी ब्रज' धर्म, संस्कृति, परम्परा और समाज से जुड़े कुछ महत्त्वपूर्ण प्रश्नों को आकार देता है.... ज्ञानपीठ पुरस्कार से सम्मानित असमिया की लब्धप्रतिष्ठ रचनाकार इन्दिरा गोस्वामी का उपन्यास 'नीलकंठी ब्रज' धर्म, संस्कृति, परम्परा और समाज से जुड़े कुछ महत्त्वपूर्ण प्रश्नों को आकार देता है. यह उपन्यास 'ब्रजमंडल' की लीलाभूमि को स्त्री-जीवन की कठिन परीक्षाभूमि के रूप में उपस्थित करता है. अनेकानेक अनाम विधवाओं के बीच सौदामिनी 'नीलकंठी ब्रज' का केन्द्रीय चरित्र है. विधवाओं के जीवन की भयावहता पाठकों को विचलित कर देगी. पुरुषवर्चस्व की घृणित परिणतियाँ उन स्त्रियों का शोषण करती हैं जिन्हें लेखिका ने 'ब्रज में रहने वाली प्रेतात्माएँ' कहा है.
Indira Goswami was an Indian author known by her pen name Mamoni Raisom Goswami and popularly as Mamoni Baideo
She was the winner of the Sahitya Akademi Award (1983), the Jnanpith Award (2001) and Principal Prince Claus Laureate (2008). A celebrated writer of contemporary Indian literature, many of her works have been translated into English from her native Assamese which include The Moth Eaten Howdah of the Tusker, Pages Stained With Blood and The Man from Chinnamasta.
The 3 stars rating is not because there is anything lacking in the original novel but due to its poor translation. This book was originally published in Assamese in 1976 and English translation became available only in 2013. For an author and book of tremendous calibre, I strongly feel that the English translation came in with "too little, and too late". Still, I am glad that I was introduced to Indira Goswami, one of the most poignant Assamese authors, through this book in a language that I could understand. Indira Goswami deserves far greater recognition, both at national and international levels. It is unfortunate that she is not really well-known outside of Assam.
The original Assamese name of this book is "Nilakantha Braja" which translates to "The Blue-necked Braja" (Braja refers to the city of Vrindavan). The flaw in the translation is evident in the title itself. "The Blue-necked God" refers to Lord Shiva who swallowed the poison to save the destruction of the universe. The poison is arrested in His neck and thus it turns blue. In the sacred city of Vrindavan, the poison manifests itself in the form of the widows who are either dumped by their families in the name of religion or wilfully come to die in Braj to achieve salvation. Throughout the novel, we are introduced to the plight of these widows who are exploited physically and financially because of the corrupt and greedy nature of fellow men. They are denied the simple pleasures of living and are often left to starve to death in indignity. This is in striking contrast to the multiple, vibrant, fun-filled festivals that the entire city celebrates in devotion to the mischievous Lord Krishna. The three women protagonists, Saudamini, Mrinalini and Shashiprova search for both means and meaning in this complex and harsh landscape. Also, the mental state of depression is depicted beautifully multiple times through the words of Saudamini. Take, for instance, "For some time now, a peculiar darkness seems to be engulfing my entire being and my life... But at times, it seems to me that this curious darkness is more illuminating than light. Believe me."
The book was written by the author when she herself was a young widow and lived and researched in Vrindavan for some period. Many of Saudamini's experiences are autobiographical. Despite being a translated work, the book leaves an indelible mark of melancholy in the reader. I highly recommend the book to everyone. If you know Assamese, please read the original.
The Brajdham is an ecosystem, that has peculiar flora and fauna, largely parasitical in nature, some gentle, most of them crude. Information travels through the paintings made by the locally famed painter whose works mirror the big events of the day and the general aura of the town, hunger regulates itself according to the timing of Bhog served daily outside the five thousand temples and scent permeates equally through burning cadavers and jasmine garlands – it is a queasy institutional maze of moldy rooms set heavy with sweat and exasperation. The first poignant imagery I encountered was of the men fervently trying to climb the greased pole in order to make a mark on the crowd gathered at the Jhulan festival. People salvage little specks of fame and felicitation, they long for glances of a known friend or sister, and they celebrate even a desultory nod from the aristocrat; in short, everyone in the Braj is at the severe mercy of another, be it for companionship or for the next morsel of food. I spent a stifling May afternoon in my verandah with The Blue-necked God, the start to my summer’s reading. A housefly found its culmination in the cup of tea I made with much care and I noted that my dad’s Aloe Vera plant died a silent death under the unforgiving sun, its parched shoots reflecting ‘the color of old manuscripts’ which I found darkly amusing. This book made me all kinds of uncomfortable and gloomy, to put it kindly. I did not enjoy reading it, but something akin to morbid curiosity got me to finish it.
‘Nilakanther Braja’ is one of Indira Goswami’s early novels. It is a short yet profound book which chronicles the exploitation and poverty of widows dumped in Vrindavan by uncaring families who hide behind the veils of religious sanctions. Drawing on her personal experience as a widow who lived in Vrindavan before moving to Delhi as a lecturer, the book exposes the ugly side of Vrindavan and its traditions. Nilakanther Braja reflects on the confusion, pain, mental agony she experienced following the demise of her husband. With a fine eye for detail, the book combines fact and fiction while also incorporating elements of an autobiography and reflections from her life. This makes us question the belief of having an undignified life and to die an even more undignified death.
I had read this book when I was in Class IX, maybe way earlier than I should have actually read it considering it is a tale of such serious subject matter and with so much depth and texture. But that didn't make me stop from marvelling at this gem. After that till date I have read many other books with similar (if not same) topics, but the impact that this one had left in my mind can't be compared to any. Recently I revisited the same again and I still get goosebumps with every bit of expression of the protagonist and even the characters without a name. An epic saga of love, loss, grieve, struggle and the cruel side of traditions.