Mahasweta Devi (left) and grandson Tathagata Bhattacharya
| Photo Credit: Naveen Kishore and Shashi Shekhar Kashyap
My grandmother Mahasweta Devi, or Bui as I fondly called her, once said to me in a post-lunch conversation, “I am appreciated for the wrong reasons.” What she meant was that her most talked-about and celebrated works were nowhere near her best ones. So, I try to right the wrong here, based on our discussions that I can recall.
Breast-Giver (Stonodayini [1977] in Bengali) narrates the tale of Jashoda, a Brahmin from a poor background, who works as a wet nurse in a rich Haldar family to feed her own family. As the Haldars refuse to let their own women feed their babies in the fear that they would go out of shape, Jashoda becomes a permanent milk mother. But to produce milk, Jashoda also needs to get pregnant frequently, which she does, and the children born are uncared for or given away. When Jashoda dies of breast cancer, her own family refuses to touch her body. This is one of the most powerful of Mahasweta’s works. It is a far cry from the sacred symbolism of motherhood associated with breasts, which Mahasweta portrays as tools of labour in a quasi-feudal and quasi-capitalist society that is unjust and unequal at its roots.
The Queen of Jhansi (Jhansir Rani [1956] in Bengali) was Mahasweta’s first novel. She travelled to every nook and cranny near Jhansi, recording songs, local histories, oral renditions, and family reminiscences about the queen. From those sources as well as mainstream research, Mahasweta wove the story of a remarkable woman who, raised as a free-spirited child and widowed at a young age, led an armed revolt that shook the British East India Company’s rule. For any aspiring author, especially dabbling in historical fiction, this novel acts as a compass, showing how important meticulous research is for any such project.
Our Non-Veg Cow (Golper Goru Nyadosh) is a hilarious children’s classic. The story is about Nyadosh, a cow at Mahasweta’s father’s house, who wolfs down fried fish, climbs stairs, enjoys an accidental drink of alcohol, and tosses policemen of the British Raj era into the river. Mahasweta has an amazing body of work for children. Fortunately for her, this was published at a time when the cow was seen more as a domesticated farm animal than a deity by society.
Rights of the Forest (Aronyer Adhikar [1977]) narrates the struggle of the Munda tribesmen of the Chota Nagpur plateau towards the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th century. The Mundas, though children of the forest, were deprived of it by the British Raj and a clutch of local zamindars and moneylenders. Instead, they were made to do labour. Birsa Munda emerged from amongst them and led an unequal fight to reclaim the community’s freedom and rights to the forest. This is one of the most visual of Mahasweta’s novels.
The Life and Death of Poet Bondhoghoti Gnai (Kobi Bondhoghoti Gnaier Jibon o Mrityu) is possibly my most favourite of Mahasweta’s works. Kalhan, a Chuar tribal youth, has a flair for writing poetry during the time of the Chaitanya movement. But since tribal people had no standing then, Kalhan assumed a false identity. He took the name of a Brahmin and composed the poem Abhayamangal. He found patronage with the king and was offered the hand of the minister’s daughter in marriage. But at the last moment, his true identity was brought to light and the king ordered his execution. The novel is a stark reminder of the tribal people’s undervaluation at the hands of a feudal and casteist society. This work will soon be available in translation from Seagull Books.
The New Delhi-based writer is the author of General Firebrand and His Red Atlas.
Published – July 17, 2026 06:18 am IST
