Malati Mukherjee is a writer, translator, and editor. She lives in Coonoor, in the Nilgiris, where she leads and drives social projects in the areas of nutrition and education for tribal women and children.
To know more about her, click here
Readomania caught up with her to know more about her experience with translations.
Readomania: There is an increase in demand for translations. Why do you think this is happening now?
Malati: Translations have been taking place since the 3rd century, maybe earlier. However, in recent times our world is shrinking and cultures are reaching out to touch each other. Literature forms a very important part of this cultural collage. Translations have become critical to help us understand other cultures, other languages, other people and their lives. They help create a link that makes our world accessible to everyone.
As a consequence, publishers are also recognising the importance of translations. I am very happy to see that some universities have started to offer courses on translation too.
Readomania: What are the key tenets of doing a good translation?
Malati: I think first and foremost is to hold the voice of the author as sacrosanct. Secondly, the style of the original has to be faithfully reproduced through translation. And third, the cultural nuances have to be preserved.
Then there is of course the actual language of the text itself. Common metaphors in one language sound alien and incomprehensible in another. Translators have to ensure they reproduce not the literary meanings but the essence of the term as understood by readers of the translated language.
The real test of translation is when the reader does not realise it is a translated text at all.
Readomania: Translations are usually done for bestsellers or classics, contemporary regional fiction is very rare. What made you pick up Hath Kata for translation?
Malati: I met Bitan’s work through a review I was doing for his translated short stories, ‘The Mark’ for The Book Review. His writing is sensitive yet very real. The stories speak with an underlying urgency. They call to you. So, when Kiriti Sengupta asked me if I would translate two of Bitan’s novellas I readily agreed.
Readomania: Were there any challenges that you faced while doing this translation?
Malati: The challenge was in putting it down and getting the story off my mind. I work on more than one book at a time. It helps me get off one and come back later with a fresh pair of eyes. In this case however, the story of Kanak and Shubho remained with me long after I had put the book down. This meant I had to take longer breaks to get away from the story and come back to it. This really speaks of the extent to which Bitan’s stories claim our mind space. I think all readers will find this too.
Readomania: Did you have frequent discussions with the author of the original text, Bitan?
Malati: I interacted with him a few times, for some clarifications.
Readomania: How does Redundant reflect the dilemmas of our lives?
Malati: Life throws dilemmas at us all the time. There are always two paths to choose and only we can decide which one to pursue. Redundant also throws up some of those dilemmas for the protagonists to deal with. I will elaborate on one of them.
This is a story of the struggles of today’s youth to find employment that will give them dignity and a social standing. Our young hero Shubho was requested by his parents to stay back in the village and even if he chose not to work in the ancestral fields, to at least do some other work like taking tuitions for students, so he could stay at home with his family. Shubho was determined however, to go out into the big bold world and make his fortune. To walk confidently with the rest of the city’s youth, make a name for himself and make his parents proud. He argued with his parents and set forth. Later when he found life was getting impossible in the city, the dilemma was whether to go back defeated to his village, or stay on and fight as long as he lived.
Two roads, one easier, more rational, more restful. The other, difficult, filled with struggles with almost no light at the end of the tunnel.
Young people are often faced with this question – whether to be satisfied with what they have, as their parents and grandparents are, or to venture out, take risks and reap higher rewards. I have met a few Shubhos before. A driver in Dharamsala who had come to Delhi to work. He made a lot of money but was very unhappy because he missed his family in the hills. Finally he fell ill with stomach ulcers and decided to come back home and since then he is happy, managing his life with his family, his fields, and continuing to drive for a tourist company.
In the Nilgiris where we work with tribal hamlets, we have seen many young people, both men and women, who do not want to leave the Nilgiris for work . I have heard people offering them good jobs with the best companies, but they’ve refused those jobs because they want to stay back in the hills. At times I have also thought they were being foolish but I then realise they are perhaps far wiser than those of their friends who chase bigger dreams in bigger cities.
Readomania: Why do you think it is important for everyone to read Redundant?
Malati: In our social strata, we are fortunate to live lives that are cushioned, protected from the elements, and therefore rather unmoved by the plights of others. These others live around us but by the lottery of birth, face daily circumstances that make it difficult for them to stand up straight, to claim a little space in the sun that they deserve as much as we do.
Redundant is a book that breaks open our ivory towers and forces us to live those lives vicariously, even if for a brief while. It is critical reading, to sensitise us to the world in which we are a minority, and Kanak and Shubho form a part of the majority.
Readomania: Thank you Malati, for this wonderful conversation. Her latest translation, Redundant, is now available on Amazon across the world.
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