Manika Devee, 44, is an Assamese short story writer and lyricist. She has so far published eight short story collections including Priyo Alap, Xakhiyati, Moidamor Jonaki and Jahar Mahar. Devee, a recipient of the Sahitya Akademi Yuva Puruskar and the prestigious Munin Borkataki literary award, is known for her poignant and insightful stories that capture the essence of life in Assam. In this interview with Northeast Now executive editor Mahesh Deka, she talks about her journey into the realm of writing, the significance of being a young female writer in the Assamese literary landscape, and the challenges and rewards of her craft.
Edited excerpts:
Tell us about your background and how you developed an interest in writing.
A love for books blossomed within me at a young age. Our home housed several bookshelves, and my parents instilled in us a simple way of life. As my mother often said, “Books, poems, and songs teach us how to live a meaningful life.” She would recite poems for us, drawing out their essence and leaving me in tears, like the first time I heard Hem Baruaha’s “Mamatae Sithi” in her voice. The seed of writing was first planted during a trip to Shillong with my father. Upon our return, he unexpectedly asked me to write a travel story. Hesitantly, I obeyed, pouring my experiences onto paper. I still recall his warm praise upon reading it – the birth of my first write-up, penned in the sixth standard.
Assamese stories captivated me from my early school days. I remember sneaking into my uncle’s library and devouring issues of “Desh” magazine. Thanks to him, I also discovered the wonders of foreign literature during my teenage years. It was this constant immersion in words that ignited my desire to write. As a child, shyness often kept me silent. Sharing my thoughts and feelings felt like a daunting task, and the ability to express them clearly seemed elusive. Perhaps, this is why writing became a haven, a space where I could finally articulate my internal world. The loss of my beloved grandmother when I was in eighth standard left a profound void within me. Driven by this sense of emptiness, I poured my emotions onto paper, crafting my first story, “Nandan-Kanan”.
What is the significance of being a young female writer in the Assamese literary landscape?
Writers transcend gender boundaries. However, women writers possess a unique understanding and perspective on women’s experiences due to their lived experiences. As a female writer, I feel drawn to explore themes of the female body, sexuality, subjectivity, and societal structures that impact women. These areas resonate with me because of my first hand experiences and observations. Like Virginia Woolf, I believe that creativity thrives beyond the confines of strict gender categorizations. A truly creative mind transcends limitations and draws inspiration from diverse perspectives. I strive to present the complexities of women’s lives with a mindful approach, ensuring my own biases or preconceptions do not overshadow the realities faced by others.
What motivates you to write and what are some of your biggest challenges?
People are the heart and soul of my writing, both the subject and the inspiration. I believe there’s nothing sweeter than the human voice. Our childhoods are filled with a symphony of sounds: the ploughman calling to his cows, the rhythmic chant of farmers in the field, the melancholic cry of pigeon, the wild cackle of chickens in the afternoon, and perhaps even the faint cry of a baby. These echoes of the past still resonate within me.
Storytelling is an act of capturing the essence of human life, in all its strangeness and complexity. The sheer diversity of human experience is both daunting and exhilarating, driving me to weave tales that explore the depths of our existence.
Storytelling is a challenging task. Each tale must have a soul, a depth beyond the surface. There’s no room for superfluous words, for every sentence must contribute to the overall melody. Like poetry, stories must be carefully crafted, their elements meticulously arranged to achieve artistic resonance. The challenge for any writer lies in capturing the truth of human experience, in transforming the raw material of reality into a work of art. It’s a daunting task. I believe, as famed filmmaker Jean Luc Godard once said, “Sometimes reality is too complex, stories give it form.”
How do you come up with ideas for your stories?
Sometimes a seemingly ordinary event, a song, even a word can ignite a spark within us. I hold onto these moments, the ones that leave an indelible mark on my heart, the ones that spark a flurry of emotions. It takes time for them to coalesce, to take shape into a story, and other times it may not take that shape.
What are your thoughts on the changing landscape of publishing and the role of technology in literature?
With advancements in technology, publishing houses are flourishing, leading to a surge of new books on diverse topics. However, prioritizing quality remains crucial for publishers, authors, and readers alike to reap the full benefits of this abundance.
Can you tell us about your latest short story collection, “Nirbachit Galpa”?
My literary journey began in 1997 with my first story published in Assam Bani, under the editorship of the renowned author and journalist, late Homen Bargohain. Over the past twenty-five years, I have written numerous stories, leading to the publication of eight collections. Nirbachit Galpa published by Sampriti Publication brings together a selection of 33 stories, carefully chosen to showcase the breadth and depth of my work. The book’s cover design is a beautiful creation by my husband, sculptor Manoj Chakraborty. The interior artwork further enhances the reading experience, featuring paintings by Manoj and our two children, Gahana and Jitakshar.
What is your favorite Assamese word and why?
Every word of the Assamese language is my favorite. This is my place of fairy tales. My language is the language of fairy tales — beautiful and sweet. Every word in this language paints an image, tells a story. “Aai Dehi”—such a soft, wrenching yet sweet expression, may not exist in any other language in the world.
What is one thing you wish the world knew about Assam and its literature?
The lyrical flow and inherent charm of the Assamese language deserve a wider audience. Though I am unsure if the translation can fully convey the originality and sweetness of the Assamese language, I hope that it will spark curiosity and appreciation for this unique linguistic treasure among readers worldwide.