Essay: Revisiting Pinjar in time for Amrita Pritam’s 104th birth anniversary
Millions lost their homes and became refugees during the Partition and female bodies became battlegrounds. So where does a woman belong, asks Amrita Pritam
India celebrated its 76th Independence Day on August 15. The 31st of this month also happens to be the 104th birth anniversary of Amrita Pritam, whose works redefined Partition and the subcontinental women who were caught up in it. The author lived her life as she wrote – fearlessly and passionately, and I found myself revisiting her most important work, Pinjar or The Skeleton, as a tribute. Originally written in Punjabi, Pinjar is not just an account of Partition; it is an exploration of the troubles that come with being born female. Much of what Pritam wrote stands true decades later.
Words dipped in blood
‘It was a sin to be alive in a world so full of evil, thought Hamida. It was a crime to be born a girl'
Pinjar is the story of Pooro, a Hindu woman abducted by a Muslim man, just before her wedding. She is renamed Hamida and is forced to marry Rashid who had abducted her to settle scores with her family. She soon gives birth to a son and is resigned to her new role. As the Partition draws near and Punjab is divided into different religious zones, Hamida finds herself on the other side of the border in the Muslim zone.
Hamida heard the tale with anger and shame. Could the earth soaked with human blood produce golden corn? Could maize remain fragrant if its roots were fed with stinking corpses? Would women whose sisters have been dishonoured bear sons for the despoilers?
Someone said Pritam wrote with words dipped in blood. There is no better way to describe her writing. What happens to a country stuck in religious feuds? What happens to land that witnesses bloodshed? The author writes about the horrors of Partition eloquently and it is clear that she believes women lost on both sides of the border. Used to settle scores between men, female bodies were weaponized during the large scale violence that accompanied Partition. I re-read Pinjar as India approached its 76th Azadi ka Amrit Mahotsav. I wonder what azadi (freedom) means and who is truly azad (free). What did it look like to women on August 15, 1947, amid the horrors, as their bodies became a battleground for religious feuds. The violence in Manipur and the visuals of the horrors visited upon women there reminded me of the Partition narratives. What would Amrita Pritam have thought of it all? Perhaps she would have once again raised her voice against the unfairness of being born female.
A feminist voice
What we choose to remember is as important as what we are told to forget. August 15 continues to mean different things to different people. Pritam’s writing evokes the violence against women without using language that is coarse or triggering. Her work reflects a society rotting from within. Sadly, the same rot can be seen today in the way the news media covers riots and rapes.
As an avowed feminist, the author questioned society’s patriarchal ways. She questioned why people sing songs about a woman’s beauty but don’t sing about beautiful women who are taken away by men. She questions why families don’t accept their daughters if their “honour has been sullied” and laments at the ease with which daughters are erased from memory and from life. She questions the nature of love itself. Why are women like Pooro lusted after and then forgotten when they need to be rescued? Why is male desire so violent? And why are women taught to accept it, even laugh and blush about it?
Where does a woman belong?
In Pinjar, the author writes about home and belonging. Millions lost their homes and became refugees during the cataclysm. Female bodies on both sides became battlegrounds. So where does a woman belong? This is what Pritam seems to ask through her writing. Her protagonist Pooro/Hamida too wonders where she belongs. Born a Hindu and forced into marriage with a Muslim man, which side of the new border is home? Is there no country for women?
Despite the violence that surrounds them, Pritam’s heroines are not abjectly helpless. When Pooro is abducted, neither her parents nor her fiance come to her rescue. Later, when she escapes and returns, her parents ask her to go back to her abductor. Years later, Pooro, now Hamida, rescues two women who are in similar situations. They were abducted as their families prepared to leave for India. Aided by Rashid, she helps them reach the relative safety of refugee camps. Pooro/Hamida symbolizes every woman who was violated; she is every woman who makes it to the other side of the border safely; she is every daughter and wife who was welcomed back by her family after Partition. No one had attempted to rescue Pooro, but this time when not one but thousands of women were taken without their consent, humanity found a way to accept. Some families did welcome the return of their own.
Incidentally, Pinjar was adapted into a Hindi film starring Urmila Matondkar as Pooro and Manoj Bajpayee as Rashid in 2003.
Amrita Pritam’s Pooro encapsulates what it is to be a woman and a mother. For the most part, a mother finds ways to love and to forgive, just as Hamida did with Rashid. There is rage within Pooro, but motherly love and affection in Hamida. She sacrifices her memories and her familial ties to build a life with her husband and sons. There comes a time when she has to choose between staying in Pakistan or going to India with her parents and brother. She doesn’t go but she does ensure safe passage for other women attempting to cross the border.
“Whether one is a Hindu girl or a Muslim one, whoever reaches her destination, she carries along my soul also,” Pooro says.
It is this acknowledgement of the suffering on both sides that makes Amrita Pritam’s Pinjar a powerful read that remains as relevant today as it was in 1950, when it was first published.
Sharmistha Jha is an independent writer and editor.
Continue reading with HT Premium Subscription
