In an interview given to The Hindu in May, 2018, author Manoranjan Byapari declares; “I write because I can’t kill. When a kid is raped in Kathua or a man is punished for using his village well, I feel like shooting. But I can’t, so I write and kill the villain.” Anger, against social injustice and oppression, is the prime progenitor of the literary discourse known as Dalit Literature. The word ‘Dalit’, literally translated as ‘ground down’ or ‘broken down’, has a distinct connotation in the Indian social context. Dalits are the lowermost order of the Hindu caste hierarchy. Systematically exploited and othered by the upper caste Hindus for centuries, this disenfranchised community lived on the fringe of the society. The term ‘Dalit’ is often enlarged to encompass not merely the Hindu lower castes but other marginalized people like religious minorities or economically disadvantaged classes as well. Historically, society has turned a blind eye to the sufferings and experiences of the Dalits. Dalit writers and critics attempt to give a voice to these voiceless and excluded people. As an umbrella term, Dalit Literature comprises a vast corpus of works – poems, ballads, short stories, novels and autobiographies- written in a diverse array of languages and regional dialects. The chief purpose of these narratives is to offer an alternative perspective of the things around us, documenting the miserable and dreadful reality of the Dalit community. At the same time, they are also written as protests against the age- old practice of untouchability and the horrors perpetrated by the social institutions of caste.As Arjun Dangle writes: “Dalit Literature is not simply literature, it is associated with a movement to bring about change. It represents the hopes and ambitions of a new society and new people.” (266)

Dalit writing in Bangla has received fairly less amount of attention than those written in Marathi, Tamil or Kannada, possibly due to its late emergence. Manoranjan Byapari is generally considered to be the pioneer of the Dalit writing movement in Bengal. A recipient of the prestigious Suprabha Majumdar Smarak Puraskar awarded by Paschimbanga Bangla Akademi, he has authored a dozen novels, over a hundred short stories and several non- fictional essays and articles.  Byapari’s autobiography – Itibritte Chandal Jiban- translated into English by Sipra Mukherjee is a powerful and influential work of contemporary Bangla Dalit Literature. Much like Sharankumar Limbale’s autobiography Akkarmashi, the book is a poignant record of a difficult and traumatic life. The book is written as a first-person narrative for the most part. Byapari’s tone is stark and at times, his frank description of the various physical and psychological horrors he is subjected to, makes the reader uncomfortable. The English translation is titled as Interrogating My Chandal Life with the added subtitle ‘An Autobiography of a Dalit’. Formation and establishment of one’s identity in relation to the ambient social structure is one of the major concerns raised in representative Dalit autobiographies. In the course of his eventful life, Byapari assumes many identities.He becomes a goatherd, a sweeper, a cook, a Naxal, a jailed convict, a rickshaw-puller and eventually, a writer. This paper seeks to explore the author’s coming to terms with his multiple identities, most notably his Dalit identity and his identity as a writer.

Byapari’s narrative begins with descriptions of the intense poverty and destitution of his childhood. He was born a few years after the Partition of India in a place called Turuk- khali in the Barisal district of erstwhile East Pakistan where his father worked as a contractual labourer. Food was scarce and the family struggled to make both ends meet. Yet, despite the misery, they retained a sense of pride in their lineage. Theirs was the ‘famous Eight- Brothers’ House at Turuk- khali-- the house of the Byaparis’. Moreover, they belonged to the Namashudra caste, which was the “most organized, developed and populous section among the dalits in Bengal” (Byapari and Mukherjee, Economic and Political Weekly 4117). The Namashudras were one of the biggest communities in pre- partition Bengal, their population mostly concentrated in the East Bengal districts of Faridpur, Barisal, Jessore and Khulna. They were vocal against the oppression of higher caste Hindus and actively tried to fight against the evil practice of untouchability in an organized movement. The post- partition years were especially unkind to this community as they were driven from their homes overnight and forced to undertake a mass exodus to the newly- formed state of West Bengal, where, years of social mistreatment and government sanctioned oppression left them weak and lost. Even as a little boy, Byapari notes that he was conscious of his Namashudra heritage because his father took pride in it:

My father always proclaimed his caste identity with pride. We are ‘Namashuddurs of the Kashyapgotra’, he would say. Though people of the upper castes called us ‘untouchable’ and spoke of us contemptuously as Chandals or Chanrals, neither my father nor anybody of our community, would acknowledge themselves as Chandals. (Interrogating My Chandal Life, 5)

As is evident from the title of the book, the ‘Chandal’ or Dalit identity is the author’s primary identity, the one he inherits. He is a Dalit by caste as well as class. As his family fled to India, they acquiredthe unflattering label of ‘Refugee’, i.e., an uprooted person from East Bengal who seeks refuge in India. The identity of a refugee does not sit well with Byapari. According to him, there is no other word in the dictionary that is more impoverished or humiliating than this. Refugees, of course, hailed from upper castes as well as lower castes. However, most of the upper caste Hindus from East Bengal had either wealth or education or both, making it relatively easier for them to settle in the new place. The Namos, Muchis, Jeles and other lower caste people did not have access to those resources. As refugees who also happened to be Dalits, they were doubly marginalized. Hence, they were forced to stay in the disease- infested Refugee Camps, surviving on the meager dole provided by the government. The author vividly describes the atrocious living conditions of the Refugee Camps and the traumatic experience of losing his little sister who died of starvation. The preferential treatment given by the government to the upper-caste refugees is highlighted by citing the infamous Marichjhapi Massacre of 1979, which resulted in the forcible eviction and subsequent deaths of hundreds of Dalit refugees. Drawing a parallel between the ‘jabardakhal’ (forcibly acquired) colonies set up by the Brahmins and Kayasthas in Jadavpur, Kolkata and the Marichjhapi island in the Sundarbans where Dalit refugees built up a flourishing settlement, Byapari explains how both were instances of unauthorized acquisition of real estate. Yet, it was only the inhabitants of Marichjhapi who were subjected to the brutality of the police and the state machinery. Byapari stresses that the people who died or suffered in the Marichjhapiincident were victimized by their caste identity.

Caste and poverty are the two greatest discriminators in this life- narrative. As a starving young boy moving from one Refugee Camp to another with his family, the author was familiar with the pangs of hunger and want. However, it is not until he ran away from his family and began his lone struggles for survival that he realized the extent of caste hatred that some upper caste ‘bamun-kayets’ (Brahmins and Kayasthas) nursed against the Dalit community. Interactions with non- Dalits play a crucial role in determining the Dalit identity. Drawing upon Emmanuel Levinas’ phenomenology of the Other, sociologist Yiannis Gabriel observes that the process of casting a group or an individual into the category of ‘other’ involves frequent vilification and alienation. After running away from home, the teenaged Byapari found employment in a Brahmin doctor’s house, tending after the family’s cows. This was the first time that he was made painfully aware of his otherness:

It was my entry to this house that showed me for the first time the ugly side of our Hindu faith and our position within its social system. I was a Namashudra, that caste group which had earlier been called Chandal. These people knew this and treated me as a dirty detestable animal. (42)

Throughout his life, Byapari faced various forms of degradation and exploitation because of his caste. He was beaten up for no reason, cheated out of his money and even wrongfully labeled as a thief. The Namashudra community is shunned by the upper castes as ‘Jal-achal’ (110), i.e., someone whose mere touch would render water impure. This ‘pollution-complex’ is so deeply entrenched in the upper- caste Hindu psyche that it legitimizes a Namashudra being subjected to everyform of indignity, including rape.   In Chapter 4, “My Lone Travels across East and North India”, Byapari gives a disturbing account of the sexual abuse he suffered at the hands of the Brahmin head cook of the Sibpur Police Mess where he was working at the time:

Animals do not indulge in ruthless exploitation, abuse or rape. I have, however, witnessed this low monstrous aspect of humanity so often since childhood that it has filled my mind and heart with the poison of contempt and scorn. (54)

Repeatedly, he compares the life of a Dalit to that of an animal, or even beneath that of an animal, to highlight the subhuman treatment meted out to his community. “Othering is a process that goes beyond ‘mere’ scapegoating and denigration – it denies the Other those defining characteristics of the ‘Same’, reason, dignity, love, pride, heroism, nobility, and ultimately any entitlement to human rights” (Yiannis Gabriel). These bitter and humiliating experiences eventually compelled the young Byapari to conceal his caste by changing his name. He adopts the name ‘Madan Datta’, a Kayastha name that would later also be his pseudonym when he started his writing career. Thus began his practice of deliberately rejecting his stigmatized caste identity, which was done not necessarily out of shame but as a desperate attempt to survive with dignity.

Interrogating My Chandal Life is not just a story of hapless victimization but one of Resistance and self-assertion as well. Byapari’s identity as a Dalit everyman underwent a paradigm shift when he was thrown into the radical Leftist movement of the Naxals by sheer chance. This chapter of his life faithfully reproduces the tumultuous and bloody history of 1970s West Bengal. As he was illiterate, he learnt about the nitty-gritty of the Naxalite political philosophy from hearsay. Hailing from the ‘lowest strata of the urban sub proletariat’, as Spivak would say, he soon grew sympathetic to their cause:

“It was not votes that this community looked for; not position that it yearned after; not luxury that it desired to possess. What it wanted was to build a society that was classless, without exploitation, and egalitarian.”  (128)

While his involvement with the Naxals was brief, Byapari took the plunge into more active politics later in his life when he joined the labour movement led by Shankar Guha Neogi and the Chhattisgarh Mukti Morcha. His fiery political speeches earned him fame and he grew to be a beloved and respected figure among the labourers and the members of the trade unions in the Dalli- Rajhara town of Bastar district. Active participation in polity formation is a key strategy of resistance against oppression in a democracy. Hence the Dalit presence in the Indian political scene today is undeniably strong.  After centuries of silent suffering, the emerging Dalit consciousness is now politically aware and active. PavanMandavkar points out, “Dalits have been largely investigated as subjects of political participation in their struggle against all forms of caste-related discrimination. In the past few decades Dalit movements have increasingly entered and engaged with political institutions by forging parties, contesting elections and holding representatives to account” (47). Byapari describes in detail the process of political mobilization of the poor and the downtrodden in their quest for emancipation:

A labourer who creates a product, or a farmer who nourishes to life his crops, grows conscious of the exploitation underlying the systems of production through his lived experiences. Theirs is a knowledge born out of the reality of their lives… The small or big tribal and peasant rebellions that we have seen in India, which would number about two hundred, were began by people who had not read Das Kapital or the Red Book. (187- 88)

In the Translator’s Note attached at the beginning of this book, Sipra Mukherjee writes that the Communist ideology ‘was one he (Byapari) felt in his bones, in the pain of the empty craving stomach that drove him mad’ (xvi). The call of the revolution resonated within his spirit and appealed to his fundamentally rebellious nature. It burdened him forever with a sense of social responsibility and a desire to change the world.

In his early youth, Byapari was a frequent visitor to prison because of his brawling tendencies. He was hardened by years of suffering and all his pent up anger found a negative outlet in violence:

I strode around, and looked for people to beat up. Beating people calmed me. Pickpockets, snatchers, kidnappers, pimps, any colourful Romeo troubling girls of the poorer classes. I would thrash them all. (152)

At one time, he was charged with arson and attempt to murder and put behind the bars for two years. Prolonged incarceration is often said to change a person to the core. Manoranjan Byapari too underwent a rebirth in prison as he was initiated into the world of letters. When he was a small child living in the Refugee Camp, Byapari’s father had wanted to gift him with ‘eyes’, i.e., education. Under the tutelage of an elderly inmate in prison, he finally learnt the Banglaalphabets and taught himself to read and write. Upon his release from prison, he was forced to take up a job as a rickshaw- puller to make a living, but he had developed a voracious appetite for books and wanted nothing more than to be able to spend his days reading and writing. A chance encounter with renowned author Mahasweta Devi changed the course of his life as she led him to his first publication. Byapari accepted the mantle of a writer with great fervour. It gave his life meaning and a deep sense of purpose.The role of a writer is very clearly defined in his book. A writer must ‘eradicate corruption, inspire social consciousness and cure the world’ (243). Literature, to him, is not mere cultivation of the arts; it is an instrument of social change. To that end, he waged a relentless war against the oppressive socio-political power structures through his writing. His literary career and political activismeventually earned him the appreciation of the academic gentry of West Bengal:

Till yesterday, I was among the dross of the society. Now even the educated intellectuals treated me with respect. I was invited to their houses, introduced to their friends, and cited as an example to learn from. My life was fulfilled. (223)

Around this same time, Byapari also settles down into matrimony, becoming what he calls ‘a decent family man.’ The Dalit literary and cultural movements, crystallized around the ideology of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, foreground education as the most effective means to empowerment. Though Byapari did not receive any formal education, his pursuits as a writer allow him to make the transition from a ‘chotolok’ (a lowly person) to a ‘bhadralok’ (a socially respected person).

However, being a writer while being a Dalit proves to be a cumbersome task. The difficulties are twofold. In all the years he spent as a writer, Byapari’s financial condition did not improve much. After returning to Calcutta from Bastar, he found a job as a cook in a residential school. Describing his financial difficulties, he writes:

In those days, I was writing in defiance of my surroundings…My situation made it impossible for me to follow a life of letters. But I struggled towards it because that was my only hope of living. (343- 344)

Moreover, his writings challenged the cultural hegemony of the social and intellectual elite. Explaining how the dominant social class subjugates the lower classes by denying them opportunities for self-upgradation and social upliftment, Marx and Engels observe: “The ideas of the ruling class are in every epoch the ruling ideas, i.e. the class which is the ruling material force of society is at the same time its ruling intellectual force. The class which has the means of material production at its disposal consequently also controls the means of mental production, so that the ideals of those who lack the means of material production are on the whole subject to it” (67). Byapari shares his experience of facing resentment from certain quarters because of his social mobility and intellectual aspirations:

There was an ‘us’ and ‘them’ here too, and ‘they’ resented my straining at the limits they had set upon my community. They resented my stepping into ‘their’ domain of letters. (349)

Undeterred in the face of such obstacles, Byapari makes an emphatic articulation of his identity as a writer and refuses to be limited by his caste or class:

All these battles I would have to fight and win. In a contradictory way, therefore, my opponents were doing me a favour. For what I cannot do out of love, I can do out of anger. And they have kept my anger alive. My books are born out of my anger. (349)

According to Guy Poitevin, “Another essential feature of the Dalit autobiographical narratives is that they do not isolate the individual from his whole historical environment, family, community and society at large…The oppression, struggles, assertion and quest of identity of the individual who is the subject-matter or the 'actant' of the narrative seem never dissociated from the shape that the system of social relation and history have given him/her. The actant of the narrative usually is a social personage, one from among and one with a whole community and a wider society.” Albeit self-referential in nature, these narratives promote solidarity with the community and the notion of developing a collective identity.In the Preface of the book, Byapari describes that his life and struggles represent those of hundreds of others like him. He claims that “They are all within me” (Preface, xi). The anguish and pain experienced by him is his alone, but multitudes of others from his community go through similar trials and tribulations and for the similar reasons. As such, Interrogating My Chandal Life becomes a personal narrative as well as a powerful treatise about the Dalit consciousness at large.

Works Cited

<https://www.thehindu.com/lit-for-life/i-do-not-give-up-easily-manoranjan-byapari/article26025165.ece>

Byapari, Manoranjan. Interrogating My Chandal Life: An Autobiography of a Dalit.Trans. Sipra Mukherjee. New Delhi: Sage, 2018. Print.

Byapari, Manoranjan, and Mukherjee, Meenakshi. “Is There Dalit Writing in Bangla?” Economic and Political Weekly.Vol. 42 No. 41. 2007. pp. 4116- 4120.

Dangle, Arjun (ed.). “Past, Present and Future of Dalit Literature”.Poisoned Bread, Translations from Modern Marathi Dalit Literature, Mumbai: Orient Longman, 1992. Print.

Gabriel, Yiannis. “The Other and Othering- A short introduction”.yiannisgabriel.com. 10 September 2012. Web. 10 August 2019. <http://www.yiannisgabriel.com/2012/09/the-other-and-othering-short.html>

Mandavkar, D. P. “Indian Dalit Literature Quest for Identity to Social Equality”. Humanities & Social Sciences Reviews, Vol. 3 No. 2, 2015. pp. 42-48. Web. 10 August 2019. <https://doi.org/10.18510/hssr.2015.321>

Marx, Karl and Friedrich Engels.The German Ideology. Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1976. Print.

Poitevin, Guy. “Dalit Autobiographical Narratives Figures of SubalternConsciousness, Assertion and Identity”.ccrss.org. 2002.Web. 12 August 2019. <https://ccrss.org/dalitautobio.htm>

Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. “Can the Subaltern Speak?” in Nelson, C. and Grossberg, L. (eds.), Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture, London: Macmillan, 1992. Print.