Pen his sword, wit his shield, Kalki gunned for reform

featured-image

He employed as many as 10 pen names, but the one that stuck more than his given name of R Krishnamurthy was ‘Kalki’, which according to Hindu eschatology will exterminate evildoers and establish righteousness at the end of the present Kali-yuga. As we mark Kalki’s 125th birth anniversary, it’s fitting to reflect on how he embraced this name not just as an identity but as a symbol of his fight against superstition and for social reform. But ironically, instead of the fiery rhetoric of a would-be social reformer, Kalki’s writings were marked by humour.

Like Voltaire, his laughter mocked with merriment and scorched with derision. The spontaneous jocularity and touch of the absurd that he brought to his copy made him one of the most readable and endearing writers of his times. Kalki’s tongue-in-cheek piece on the political and economic rumblings caused by the export of Indian mangoes to England and the consumption of the delicacy by the British Prime Minister and the Secretary of State for India had Tamil savant T K Chidambaranatha Mudaliar (TKC) in splits, even as he marvelled at the writer’s use of the Tamil language.



Only Kalki could have imagined the concatenation of curious repercussions that climax with Gandhi drinking mango juice and holding forth on its sweetness. This is followed by his inner voice rebuking him for falling victim to the temptations of the palate! He forthwith announces a fast to punish himself, upon which Rajaji appeals to him to give up on the idea. The childhood of the future star of Tamil journalism and literature was not exactly a happy one, though.

Born near Mayiladuthurai in the fertile Tanjore region, he lost his father before age nine. A kind neighbour, Ayyasamy Iyer, a retired station master who ran a local school, adopted him. Iyer’s values and book-filled library shaped Kalki’s character and broadened his intellectual horizons.

Thanks to the kindness of his maternal aunt, Kalki continued his education in Trichy, excelling in studies. Drawn into the freedom struggle by Dr T S S Rajan, he met Gandhiji during his South India tour, where the Mahatma patted his back, calling him “Achcha desh sevak” (a good national worker). Kalki became a passionate campaigner for the non-cooperation movement and was jailed for a year for sedition.

In Trichy jail, he bonded with Sadasivam and discovered his talent for storytelling. After his release, he worked at the Congress office, where his lucid and racy writing on Gandhian ideals caught Rajaji’s attention. Kalki and Sadasivam, who co-founded ‘Kalki’ magazine in 1941, saw themselves as spiritual sons of Rajaji, championing his ideals in their publication.

Kalki’s journalistic career began at ‘Navasakthi’, the publication of nationalist leader Thiru Vi Ka. At this point, the easy-flowing style of his translation of Gandhi’s autobiography from English signalled his promising future. After living at the spartan Gandhi Ashram in Tiruchengode as a newlywed and helping Rajaji edit the pro-prohibition journal ‘Vimochanam’, Kalki was again arrested during the salt satyagraha for picketing.

Kalki joined S S Vasan’s ‘Ananda Vikatan’, where his prolific writings covered politics, music, dance and films. He also penned the script for ‘Thyaga Bhoomi’ (1939), a story of Harijan upliftment and women’s empowerment during the freedom struggle, which became the first film banned by the British in Madras. Kalki’s passion for social reform was clear, and he boldly supported Harijan temple entry, even opposing a respected pontiff on the issue.

He excelled in lyric writing too, coming up with such inspired lines as ‘Kaatrinile varum geetham’ in the film ‘Meera’ (1945). Much before the Tamilisai movement was hijacked by political forces, along with Rajaji, TKC and M S Subbulakshmi, Kalki made a strong pitch for meaningful Tamil songs in classical music concerts. Kalki followed his passion for fiction with the motto, “begin interesting, continue more interesting, and conclude most interesting”.

Writer Thiruppur Krishnan admired Kalki’s ability to craft meaningful stories, such as ‘Kadithamum Kanneerum’ (where a child widow loses her chance at love due to illiteracy), which conveyed messages of widow remarriage and women’s education with an O Henry-esque twist. Kalki’s finest hour came towards the end of his life with his magnificently ambitious ‘Ponniyin Selvan’, on the rise to power of the Chola King Rajaraja. Since the time it was first serialised in ‘Kalki’ magazine between Oct 1950 and May 1954, it has become such a repeatedly read and admired work of historical fiction that one can only say that it is truly a phenomenon.

The success of Mani Ratnam’s two-part film adaptation, despite some diehard fans’ disillusionment, can be partly credited to the novel’s lasting popularity. Kalki supported many public causes. Despite once controversially calling Bharati a nationalist poet, not a Mahakavi, he championed building a memorial for the poet in Ettayapuram.

Some avant-garde writers from the literary magazine ‘Manikkodi’ (1933-1939) criticised Kalki, accusing him of plagiarising from authors such as Sir Walter Scott. Writer Pudhumai Pithan dismissed him as one who wrote “borrowed stories”. Despite this, Kalki helped raise funds for Pithan’s widow after his death.

But if literary value can be gauged from the continued relevance of a work even after the fashions and fads of a particular era have gone by, the fact that Kalki is being read with interest even 70 years after his premature demise is proof of his literary worth. (The writer is a veteran journalist and author) (Email your feedback with name and address to southpole.toi@timesofindia.

com).