Writing about sex has often been problematic for women writers in India. Our literary world is currently stirred-up over the remarks of Vibhuti Narain Rai, the vice-chancellor of a prestigious university. In a recent interview, Rai stated that over the past few years Hindi women writers have vied to prove that each is a bigger "chinaal" than the other. chinaal is an Urdu word that may be translated to mean "adulterous woman" or "whore". Referring to a well-known woman writer's autobiography, Rai said the work should have been titled Kitne Bistaron Mein Kitni Baar ("How many times in how many beds"). In casual conversation, such comments might have been ignored but they were part of an interview in Naya Gyanoday, a literary monthly published by Bharatiya Jnanpith, an organisation that awards some of India's most important literary prizes.
Women writers in India have not had it easy. Freedom of expression has come, in dribbles, after long struggles. In many quarters, it still requires a great deal of gumption to write about the body, sex and sexuality. More than 200 writers have demanded the expulsion of both Rai and the editor of Naya Gyanoday. About 100 have boycotted Bharatiya Jnanpith and its awards. Both Rai and Bharatiya Jnanpith's director have been sent a criminal notice by a district court for intentionally defaming women writers. What this will lead to is uncertain but the incident throws up vital questions about women's freedom, education and power.
Hindi poet and translator Giriraj Kadoo said:
"The vice-chancellor of a central university makes a cheap and abusive remark about women writers as part of an articulated dialogue on feminism and women writing and is allowed to go scot free ... the controversial piece appeared in the magazine of India's paramount literary institution, Bharatiya Jnanpith, which gives the country's most prestigious literary award. It is shocking to see that Jnanpith has gone this far to save a tainted employee. It is a sure sign of the sad decline of a great institution."
The world of Hindi literature has godfathers, and women writers are reluctant to antagonise them. Influential critics are comfortable with women writers only as long as they play safe and avoid controversial topics. As soon as sex comes into the picture, sweat builds on brows, obscenity charges abound, and writers are effectively silenced through coercion or threat. There is pressure to write about it in a certain, marketable way, which is again a mockery of both literary freedom and truth.
Tehelka columnist Gaurav Jai questions whether the issue deserves such rage: isn't it time Indian women upturned the status quo by refusing to look at a word like "slut" with such outrage? But specific words are less significant than the attitudes they reflect. Rai's tone is misogynistic, regressive and censoring, his contention that women must not write about the body so much is patronising and prescriptive. This can hardly be ignored considering his office.
The issue is reflective of a larger problem in the literary world, one that goes to the heart of what it means to be a woman writer – what little freedom one is allowed, and the silences which must be observed. It is cause for serious thought and, in this case, hopefully some action.
