The first thing that is noticeable in this collection is that the pageant of stories starts from the Arunodaya period, the beginning of short story writing in Kannada. As in the case of novels written during this period, short stories too are mentioned only in passing in Kannada literary histories. Panje Mangesharaya and Kerura Vasudevacharya were the earliest short fiction writers in Kannada, and it is heartening to see their stories opening the innings here.
The first story, ‘At a Teashop in Kamalapura’ by Panje Mangesharaya is light in tone and reflects upon small human frailties, a little bit of vanity boosted by a bit of bombast, and some harmless lies. All this is mostly in the form of banter that takes place between the owner and his customers in a small teashop in the seaside town of Kamalapura. Kerura Vasudevacharya’s ‘Malleshi’s Sweethearts’ is also light in tone, but offers a lot of movement. It is a story of how Malleshi, a sort of bumpkin, comes of age and learns the ways of the world while searching for a bride.
These two stories, the earliest examples of the genre in Kannada, also show the writers trying to fashion a new form in Kannada in their own way. The short story was in its very early days and yet to become the formidable genre that it is now in Kannada, which is apparent in the humorous banter and conversational style of these stories. The translator stays true to form here, retaining all the oddities of the originals and bringing out the humour effortlessly.
Ajampura Sitaram’s ‘The Girl I Killed’, Srinivasa Kulakarni’s ‘A New Tongue’, Kadengodlu Shankarabhatta’s ‘My Alarm Clock’, and Saraswathibai Rajawade’s ‘The Battered Heart’ are about grim social realities, superstitions, and dubious customs of the time, some of which are followed with great conviction even to this day. While Sitaram’s story brings us face-to-face with the custom of basavi where a girl child is given to god by her parents to fulfil a vow, and questions crimes committed on young women in the name of god, Srinivasa Kulakarni and Kadengodlu Shankarabhatta’s stories focus their attention on ritual purity (madi) and ritual pollution (mailige). These two upper-class obsessions create a conflict between the husband and wife in ‘A New Tongue’ which leads to wife-beating. ‘My Alarm Clock’ takes these two obsessions to dangerous levels. The wife is obsessed with maintaining ritual purity, observing all religious rituals, and fasting so much so that when she falls ill, she refuses to take allopathic medicine (because they are made from meat and liquor), and can’t bear the thought of a doctor coming into their house because he would pollute it.
The tales of debauched monks and corruption in Hindu religious monasteries are recurring themes in early Kannada social novels like Indirabai, Vagdevi, and Chandramukhiya Ghatavu. This theme is explored here in the story, ‘The Battered Heart’ by Saraswathibai Rajawade. The story is, very interestingly, narrated in the form of a whodunit, beginning with the death of the head monk and the police investigation, until the wronged woman comes forward and reveals a story of love and betrayal. This is a curious story, and unlike in the novels, the monk here is humanized and made to look normal through the eyes of the woman. But what brings his end is her naivete in believing his story that they were a married couple in their previous birth.
Shyamaladevi Belagaonkar’s ‘The Scion of the Family or a Secret Gift’ is about an impotent son of a deceased wealthy Jagirdar. His mother wants an heir at any cost and wants her daughter-in-law to have children from another man. This is a is quite a bold topic, and moreover the mother quotes the Mahabharata to validate her dubious scheme. Kodagina Gowramma’s ‘Vani’s Confusion’ tells the tale of a young widowed woman, Indu, who despite the grief of early widowhood has learned to live independently, free of any interference, until an unspoken attraction towards her neighbour, Vani’s husband, upends her tranquil life, forcing her to leave the city.
These stories come together thematically, bringing women and their worries and sufferings to the fore. And it is no surprise that three of these stories are written by women. From this point onwards the stories largely move from the home to the outside world. MN Kamath’s ‘Who’s the Thief?’ is narrated in the form of a mystery, which brings in village politics, corruption, and the theft of a necklace. The narrator is like an invisible follower of the characters and talks to the readers directly, bringing them into the narrative. Exploitation of blind beliefs and a macabre exorcism where a young woman is almost killed before the ‘British sense of justice’ comes to her aid and ties up everything neatly. Masti Venkatesha Iyengar’s ‘The Story of Jogi Anjappa’s Hen’ brings in the raconteur as narrator. What is interesting here are the conversations between Anjappa, a former wandering minstrel, and Rangappa, who is now a Bench Magistrate in the taluk. Narrative innovations like dramatic representation of speech and flashback, light humour, and a gift that becomes a theft, make this story truly memorable.
‘The Idol that Chennappa Destroyed’ by Yarmunja Ramachandra shows us a picture of contemporary politics of the time. This is about Periyar’s ‘idol-breaking’ mass movement that originated in Tamil Nadu. It becomes a fanciful notion in the head of a wealthy, idle young man with no real ideological convictions. The poverty-stricken maker of clay idols in the village is sucked into this drama. The conflict in the mind of the idol-maker between faith and a little monetary relief forms the core of this story. HV Savithramma’s ‘An Episode’ takes us to England, where love blossoms between an Indian boy and British girl. The boy is there for only a year, and both know that their relationship has a deadline. More than faith, it is duty that forms an obstacle in this story. Triveni’s ‘Two Ways of Living’ looks at humans from the perspective of a tonga-puller horse, and what the horse sees of us humans is not flattering at all. It is a simple tale with a weighty impact, and a sad end for the horse. Shankar Mokashi Punekar’s story, ‘Bilas Khan’ came as a surprise. It is a fictional story of Tansen, the well-known musician in Akbar’s court, and his son, Bilas Khan. Narrated beautifully, the story ends on a sad note, with the grief-stricken Tansen creating the raga Bilaskhani Todi in memory of his son. The collection closes with Sara Aboobacker’s ‘Between Rules and Regulations’—another heart-rending story of a poverty-stricken Muslim woman, with three children, recently divorced by her husband.
This anthology is a lesson in literary history too, as many stories presented here are sourced from local magazines and early anthologies. The readers can sense the short story in its tentative phase in the early days. Steadily finding firm footing as writers become more confident in exploring new and contemporary ideas and themes, creating space for depiction of atmosphere and characters, creating new settings and contexts, perfecting narrative techniques, and finding a balance between form and content, the art of storytelling and the craft of fashioning a story.
Each story reads differently as it should, and this goes to the credit of the translator, Susheela Punitha. The dialogues and descriptions in English come alive without missing a beat. The stories have come from all parts of Karnataka where different dialects of Kannada are spoken, and it would not have been an easy task to translate these into English. The translator has successfully retained the nuances of the original Kannada, though the English translations may not reflect the native lilt of the local dialects. This is not a complaint though. The translator is generous with glosses and explanations in the main text throughout the book, which helps readers understand the nuances of the language and culture.
Containing eighten stories covering a span of almost a century, one can see that the stories in this anthology have been selected carefully, featuring works by renowned literary figures like Panje Mangesharaya, Saraswathibai Rajawade, Kodagina Gowramma, Masti Venkatesha Iyengar, Triveni, Shankar Mokashi Punekar, Sara Aboobacker and others, showcasing diverse social contexts and regions. They explore a range of issues as well as various themes, including the disintegration of institutional religion, social commentary and philosophical reflection. Engrossing narratives, humorous dialogue, relatable characters and narrative innovations make these stories memorable and a pleasure to read.
Kannada has a rich tradition of short fiction and I hope Susheela Punitha brings out another volume of Kannada short stories in English, covering the period from the 1970s to the present.
S Jayasrinivasa Rao translates poetry and prose across Kannada and English. His recent book, Baltic Kadala Gaali (2025), is an anthology of poems from Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania translated into Kannada.