Memorable Musings

As you listen to V K Madhavan Kutty converse on everything from Malayalam literature to the art of conversation itself, a peculiar omission dawns on you. Kutty uses the word "I" so seldom that it's startling. It does, inevitably, creep in, but on the whole, this writer-journalist appears to have developed a delicate dexterity at avoiding a word that personal, that egoistic.

It marks every page of The Village Before Time, too, this verbal tic. The narrator uses the word "I", like his creator, only when it's completely unavoidable. And in this omission, perhaps, lies the key to Kutty himself.

 

Now this is a man who's a serious journalist, who is respected in bureaucratic circles, who doesn't need critics to confirm his literary reputation. He's played host to Krishna Menon at one end of the spectrum and what seems like half the pantheon of contemporary Malayalam writers at the other. The translation of The Village Before Time, a book that started out as a series of well-received newspaper articles, was picked up by India Ink. The launch was held at Rashtrapati Bhavan, rather than the usual five-star hotel. ("Cocktails didn't seem to go with my book", says Kutty.)

He is genuinely curious in knowing what readers think of his book, genuinely humble, alternately patient and uncomfortable with the necessarily invasive process of being photographed. He accepts media attention with resignation, not letting it distract him from what's really important _ the muscle and sinew and bone of writing itself. "I would be grateful," he said to the audience at Rashtrapati Bhavan, "if you could spare some time to read this book and make the journey back with me to my beginnings. " It was left to O V Vijayan to tell us of the "deep fictional experience" contained in this deceptively simple story of a village going through slow change, to P V Narasimha Rao to comment: "Madhavan has written the story of a generation...the bittersweet story of rural India."

Kutty would prefer, instead, to talk about the process of learning the story of Krishna, four stanzas every day, and what his family considered the essential slokas as a child. "Memory exercises," he muses, explaining that his ability to remember even the smallest detail dates back to this process , obviating the necessity of keeping a diary.

And words are how he keeps misfortune at bay. Surviving the 1973 air crash that took Mohan Kumaramangalam's life, he was prompted to write a slim recounting of events titled Accident is my Companion. It wasn't his first brush with death, nor would it be his last. "I had other accidents _ death tried to knock me down, but he failed. I wrote another book." A 1997 stroke that would have depressed most people causes him to laugh, "See, death is cheating now." It also inspired another slim volume, He Follows Me Like A Shadow. Despite the consternation of friends and family who find his willingness to explore the prospect of death daunting, Kutty intends to publish all three books together as a slim volume. It is perhaps typical of the author that musings on mortality should nudge him a little further on the road to literary immortality.