A Poetess of The
Palkiwallah And The Churiwallah Taking The Newly-wed Bride To Her Home And The
Latter Selling, Making Womenfolk Wear Bangles, Kanch Ki Churiyan: A Study In
Sarojini Naidu’s Two Poems
Palanquin Bearers
Lightly, O lightly we bear her along,
She sways like a flower in the wind of our song;
She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream,
She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream.
Gaily, O gaily we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.
Softly, O softly we bear her along,
She hangs like a star in the dew of our song;
She springs like a beam on the brow of the tide,
She falls like a tear from the eyes of a bride.
Lightly, O lightly we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.
Sarojini Naidu here in
this poem describes the palanquin in which the brides used to go to their
in-laws’ home. Those were the days of the people when they used to take
the bullock carts and if possible horse-carriages for conveyance and the roads too
had not been so. As far as possible they used to take the palanquin marking the
transport facility and the way-long journey. But it was compulsory to bid her
bye after making her seated on the palki, palanquin. Ancient India or the olden
world too was one of girl brides and what to say it more? There was a special
caste named the Kahars who used to bear the palanquin with the bamboo poles
placed on the shoulders and singing the folk song used to be on the way.
While taking the bride
to her home, the palanquin-bearers turbaned and in dhoti with the palanquin on
their shoulders and with the bamboo poles to take support when they kept
treading the way. Lightly they bear the newly-wed daughter, the girl bride so
she may reach safely. There should not be as that ails her spirit or for which
she feels sad and broken. As for encouragement to bear the load or hilarity for
getting the bonus and other things, in order keep themselves up in spirits,
they keep singing all the way long intermittently. The bride sways like a flower
in the wind of their song. Sometimes she skims like a bird on the foam of a
stream. Sometimes she floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream. Gaily and
gaily, they glide through covering the distance and keep singing the song with
a view to bearing her like a pearl on a string. She is no less than their
daughter whom they are going to reach. Softly, softly they bear her along, she
hangs like a star in the dew of their song.
Palanquin Bearers is
in reality a song, a bridal song, a song of the Kahars, palanquin bearers which
the poetess is humming; the palanquin bearers will come and lift the palki to
take the bride to her home, a flower like, a butterfly like bride so fearful
and afraid of. She will smile and weep from time to time which is but natural
and the bearers will try to keep her in good spirits, will try to take care of
her as their daughter. This is what a father wishes and what the goer tries to
keep up. Outwardly, it is a small poem of some lines and stanzas, but inwardly
it has got some deeper meaning. None can say about the wayward journey, the
hazards of it from men, beasts and incidents. The thugs and dacoits may loot.
Beasts on the prowl sometimes come out to be sighted by and what more to say
about the incidents none can say it. The other thing is of adjustment and the
new home too where she is going to just as a stranger as it happens in arranged
marriages. All these are the things which are but quite natural to be felt.
The two lines add
music and lyrical tonality to the poem:
Gaily, O gaily we
glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.
Similarly the last two of the second and last stanza goes on
making music with:
Lightly, O lightly we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.
The first two lines from the first stanza describe the
sentiments of the small bride beautifully which may be the feelings going
within the heart of the tender girl bride or these may be things of the
palanquin bearers born out of their experiences of age-old bearing:
Lightly, O lightly we
bear her along,
She sways like a flower in the wind of our song;
Again the four lines from the second stanza show it how she has
been compared to dew drops and the star which often keeps twinkling and to a
beam on the brow of a tide:
Softly, O softly we bear her along,
She hangs like a star in the dew of our song;
She springs like a beam on the brow of the tide,
She falls like a tear from the eyes of a bride.
But apart from the
outward appearance, the bridal decoration and the shy structure, there is also
something which but none has come to feel it which is but the touchy side of
the story of her story of life. She is but the loving daughter of some father
who after leaving her own home is going to another’s home for different
reasons. Had she been able to live, why would she have gone to? This is also a
matter of reckoning. Her tears, falling tears none has come to feel it over the
passage of time, over the lapse of years and time. Leaving her acquaintances,
she is moving to a different unknown location. How will she adjust with this is
also a question, how will she deal with the unknown persons whom she knows not,
nor is acquainted with.
The
Bangle Sellers
Bangle sellers are we who bear
Our shining loads to the temple fair…
Who will buy these delicate, bright
Rainbow-tinted circles of light?
Lustrous tokens of radiant lives,
For happy daughters and happy wives.
Some are meet for a maiden's wrist,
Silver and blue as the mountain mist,
Some are flushed like the buds that dream
On the tranquil brow of a woodland stream,
Some are aglow with the bloom that cleaves
To the limpid glory of new born leaves
Some are like fields of sunlit corn,
Meet for a bride on her bridal morn,
Some, like the flame of her marriage fire,
Or, rich with the hue of her heart's desire,
Tinkling, luminous, tender, and clear,
Like her bridal laughter and bridal tear.
Some are purple and gold flecked grey
For she who has journeyed through life midway,
Whose hands have cherished, whose love has blest,
And cradled fair sons on her faithful breast,
And serves her household in fruitful pride,
And worships the gods at her husband's side.
The Bangle Sellers as
a poem reminds us of the palanquin bearers, sailors, shipmen, punkah pullers,
water men, washer men, fisher men, boatmen and so on. Tagore too wrote a story
about Kabuliwallah and Kipling about Gunga Din charming to the core. William
Hazlitt’s Indian jugglers too can never be forgotten. We leave it the stories
of Indian thugs and dacoits. But in the context of Sarojini Naidu it was Arthur
Simons and Edmund Gosse who brought her to light and introduced her to a wider
range of public and readers. Had Gosse not suggested writing about the things
of India, Indian scenes and sights, landscapes and people, it would have been
otherwise. But whatever be that, Sarojini is a poetess of love and lyricism,
the mystical flame of love ever burning, ever lighting, amorous and spiritual
both at the same time. Krishnabhakti not, Krihnaprem entices her with the
adoration of Radha of Brindavana, the banks of the Yamuna, the kadamba trees
and Krishna fluting on her mind-set. Sarojini, with her education in the West,
marked the temperament as for presenting those things only which are but so endearing
to the Western readers.
The poem deals with
the bangle sellers going to the temple fair with the shining loads overhead
willing to have a good sale of the bangles, coloured differently, red, pink,
green, blue, gold flecked and so on, the glass bangles looking beautifully. The
Indian churiwallah with the words, churi, churi saying and going is the thing
of deliberation and discussion. The bangles for daughters, wives, mothers and
small girls, all types of bangles he is with to sell and make them wear. The
seller goes on calling, asking to buy and see the glistening bangles. There was
also a craze for when so many stalls and shops were not then in those times of
yore when the poem was written. The hawkers and peddlers used to go about
peddling in the country and streets and lanes. Still now fairs attract the
people and on special occasions the cosmetic goods are sold. Later, she
discusses which bangles who should wear; about the colour combination. But
today’s time is of the beautician and the beauty parlour who like to align the
things without bothering about the age and conventions, demolishing
superstitions. There was a time when the widows used to be forbidden from
wearing bangles. The rainbow-tinted bangles tell of the rainbowish seven
colours and the glass bangles being so delicate if pressed or out of
measurement may give way or crack. These are the things to be handled
delicately. The jingle and tingle of the bangles appear to be lucid and have a
special charm of their own. As the rainbow gives a glowing impression of the
colour mixture so do the churis give out to be roped in and sometimes kept
under cover.
The poetess speaks in
the version of the bangle sellers as well as the customers. The bangle sellers
and the customers exchange views with regard to choice and the trend of buying
the bangles and also as per traditions and rituals. The bangles are for happy
daughters and wives. As the bindis add to so are the bangles in appearance.
With
the bangles emitting the rainbowish light, the sellers go about calling for a
purchase. They call, ask for to purchase bangles, meant as the lustrous tokens
of radiant lives, for happy daughters and happy wives. Those who are happy and
gleeful will definitely come to buy them. The bangles are delicate and bright, looking
like rainbow-tinted circles of light. A young girl lives in young dreams,
youthful dreams of love and life unmindful of all that comes the way. What it
strikes her, she selects dreamfully; what it catches her fancy and imagination.
Some of the bangles
are for a maiden’s wrist, as such silver and blue colour bangles looking like
the mountain mist. Some of the bangles are light red, bud-like which seem to be
dreaming or taking our dreams away to the tranquil brow of a woodland stream.
Some of them aglow with the bloom shining from being in the mist of newly-cast
leaves. Blue, silver and green are alright for the maidens, young unmarried
maidens.
Some of the bangles
are like the colour of the sunlit field of corn and these can be for a girl of
a marriageable age. These will also suit the brides on the eve of their
marriage with the smiles and tears of memories. Some like the flame colour,
fiery red bangles or as they like to take to suit, as per the hue of the
heart’s desire, bridal laughter and bridal tear. But red colours suit the
married women the most representing the heart’s desire, the marriage fire and
the promises made together for going together with and sharing the things and
their test and ordeal.
Some are purple and
gold flecked grey bangles which will suit those on the way of life, middle aged
and blest with children and the husband looking after the household. Women of
such an age must wear the bangles of this colour. Such an age group woman likes
it not to wear the deep colour things, often busy with household affairs,
husband and children; service gods and performance of rites and rituals. Her
dream, desire and inclination now lie in with the children, house and husband.
The bangle sellers with the bundle into their hands or kept
overhead and the sample into the hands keep calling, showing and passing
through the locality:
Who
will buy these delicate, bright
Rainbow-tinted circles of light?
The
bangles are but the lustrous tokens of radiant lives as the people dream and
live with it which is also a colour of life, a thing of beauty, love and joy:
Lustrous
tokens of radiant lives,
For happy daughters and happy wives.
Some
bungles are mainly for a maiden, her wrist, so dreamy to catch her fancy and
imagination taking us to the mountainside for overlooking them, covered in mist
and smoke:
Some
are meet for a maiden's wrist,
Silver and blue as the mountain mist,
The
reference to the buds tells of the light red colour which may suit the young
maidens taking to the woodland stream and the natural scenario:
Some
are flushed like the buds that dream
On the tranquil brow of a woodland stream,
The
below-quoted lines tell of the green, light or dark green colour matching with
the wrists of the young maidens:
Some are aglow with the bloom that cleaves
To the limpid glory of new born leaves
It
is also a fact that the young maidens like to keep dreaming, taking life
lightly as they are not aware of its joys and sorrows. Only the dreamy side
cannot add to our hardcore realities.
What do the brides choose for? Let us see it:
Some are like fields of sunlit corn,
Meet for a bride on her bridal morn,
Some of the bangles resemble the colour of the marriage fire
taking to saat pheras, seven rounds around the sacred fire and the sacred oath
taken:
Some, like the flame of her marriage fire,
Or, rich with the hue of her heart's desire,
The bangles of such a sort tell a different story of life:
Tinkling, luminous, tender, and clear,
Like her bridal laughter and bridal tear.
One who has journeyed across and is of sometime past or some
experience gathered with worldliness may opt for otherwise:
Some are purple and gold flecked grey
For she who has journeyed through life midway,
Whose hands have cherished, whose love has blest,
And cradled fair sons on her faithful breast,
Such a fellow rejoices in her household values and
companionship:
And serves her household in fruitful pride,
And worships the gods at her husband's side.
To look after the family, to maintain and manage the things,
handles the affairs is primarily her motto and apart from it, she has nowhere
to go crossing the Lakshamanrekha.
The Bangle Sellers
reminds us of the hawkers, peddlers moving around the country, into the streets
and lanes of the towns as for selling bangles, the bangles of different shining
colours and together with lies the different stages of life reflected through.
How are our norms and values connected with? How are our sensitivities
connected with? How are our spirits and feelings? Through the selection of
bangles, the poetess also tells about the life of a woman since the start. How
do the options, selections, impositions and tastes vary from time to time? Once
she had been a girl child thereafter she turned into a young maiden and from
there into a married off woman to the woman of a middle age. When the mother
buys the bangles, the girl daughter also asks her mother to buy small bangles
to wear and play with, such a psychological as well as feminine thing one
generally comes across in patriarchal India. On feeling it, there crops up a
question, is this the life of a woman, the periphery of her life, for which we
get no answer at all. Whatever be that, through the bangle colours the writer
has shown the colours of life and that too of a woman’s life encircling the
bangles and the choice connected with showing the societal mind-set,
nomenclature and protocol. A poem of colour imageries, it all about bangles,
bangle-selling and purchase taking us to the country and into the streets and
lanes of the past times; to temple fairs and festive occasions. Wearing bangles
falls within one of the shringaras, sixteen Indian shringaras from the feminine
decorative point of view. The churis are a must for an Indian bridal beauty or
a country woman and from this point of view she has viewed the whole spectrum
of our society and households. The lilting sound of the churis and the anklets
adds to the beauty of the Indian bride if of a tender age. The fashionistas and
socialites may not approve of the conventional viewpoint.
When we read the poem
and keep analyzing, paraphrasing and discussing, we feel ourselves around an
art gallery and seeing art exhibitions or participating in to view the beauty
pageants or pictures from life. At the same time we cannot avert our gaze from
peeping in beauty parlours and salons and studios. The mind also goes to the
make-up, dress-up men who take time to dress and make before any rehearsals,
theatrical, dramatic or choric. The credit must go to the bangle-makes and the
beauticians too apart from the poets describing the scene or taking a note of
that. When we read and re-read the poem, a young bridal girl in sholah
shringaras stands before us, call her, whatever you like to call Chandramukhi or
Suryamukhi? She herself is a jasmine standing with a pack of jasmine sticks
full of heavily-scented blooms to give.
