‘Weird, delightful, refreshing’: Anupama Raju on translating writer Paul Zacharia’s ‘imagination’ | Metaglossia: The Translation World | Scoop.it

"‘Weird, delightful, refreshing’: Anupama Raju on translating writer Paul Zacharia’s ‘imagination’
‘I had to ensure readers around the world got a peek into his bizarre, but entertaining, universe.’
Anupama Raju


Discovering Paul Zacharia’s writing, thanks to the Katha translation series that was very popular in the 1990s, was like being thrown into an alternate universe. Gods, biblical characters, supernatural beings, politicians, drunkards, lustful men and women, co-existed without complaint in this universe. It was immensely educational as it was entertaining. I found Zacharia’s imagination weird, delightful and refreshing. And very different from that of his contemporaries.


As a Malayalee growing up in Chennai, I started reading Malayalam literature in English translation. The brilliance of writers like Ayyappa Paniker, Lalithambika Antharjanam, Paul Zacharia, OV Vijayan, MT Vasudevan Nair and Mukundan held me spellbound.


Years passed, and I moved away from Zacharia’s universe, only to be thrown back into it when I moved to Thiruvananthapuram, the city he lives in. I was already writing and publishing poetry in English by then. And perhaps because of my unfamiliarity with the Keralite imagination and culture, I felt like an outsider in Kerala. That I’d not studied Malayalam, the language of my parents, fanned this awkwardness. I was fluent only in spoken Malayalam. Hence, translating literature from Malayalam into English appeared as a lifeline to Malayalam, Kerala, and my roots.


A matter of trust
When I got an opportunity to translate Zacharia’s short fiction, I was thrilled. Though he was approachable and down-to-earth, I was always conscious of his stature in Indian literature.


The first of Zacharia’s stories I translated was “The Sixty-Watt Sun”, first published in Malayalam in 2009. He was brave to let me – a novice who hadn’t studied Malayalam – translate it. There were trusted translators like Gita Krishnankutty and AJ Thomas who were already translating his stories. Yet, he chose to have faith in me. For that, I shall remain grateful to him: Zacharia to the Malayalam world. Paul to the Anglophone literary world. And “sir” to me.


“The Sixty Watt Sun” was an exercise in hard work, patience and resilience. It was a story that had many surreal elements. Zacharia’s characteristic dark humour, the manner in which he exposed human nature and its absurdities and the brilliance with which he depicted contemporary trends made the story special. I would spend weeks reading each sentence aloud, piecing words together and referring to the Shabdatharavali, the imposing Malayalam thesaurus. I would also discuss meanings and nuances with a grand-aunt or an uncle, who tolerated my ignorance. Over countless drafts and discussions with Zacharia, the translation was finally done. The story went on to be published in 2011 in Pratilipi, a bilingual journal that featured literature from Indian languages.


More stories followed: “The Death and Funeral of Sister Alphonsa”, an endearing look at Kerala’s venerated saint, and “The Bar”, whose smoke-filled, absurd interiors were strange and characteristically Zacharia. Spending more time in his universe, I slowly grew confident in my skills as a translator. As I have noted elsewhere, translation is always a collaboration when one has access to the writer. I could not imagine translating in isolation. Zacharia and I would review the drafts, sometimes over a simple lunch of rice, moru curry and vegetables in his home. He would chip in with suggestions, some of which I was bold enough to turn down with time. A freedom he afforded me as our partnership evolved into friendship.


Loyalty to imagination
And then 2020 came into our lives. The pandemic struck. Life was unreal. It was around the same time that I started translating more stories of his, such as “Rani”, “Kanyakumari”, “By the Water Lily Pond”, “Black Magic”, and others. They offered much-needed respite from the anxiety of what was happening around. I would break into giggles and loud laughter at my desk, as I worked with his wacky protagonists. We would discuss the drafts over video calls. Our conversations also veered into other favourite topics like old Hindi film songs or cats. But luckily, the translations were done.


All along, I was writing too. I was invested in my poetry and in my first experimental novel. But whenever I translated Zacharia, I was always aware of the boundaries and the profound responsibility I shouldered. I was a translator first and a writer second. Can one separate the two, you ask? I think I did. My loyalty as a translator was to Zacharia’s imagination. I had to ensure readers around the world got a peek into his bizarre, but entertaining, universe.


More than 15 years have passed since I translated “The Sixty Watt Sun”. Now there is 50 Stories, a collection that brings together some of his best stories in translation. And I’m proud to have contributed to it. Zacharia and I speak from time to time. There may be no moru curry and rice. But there’s always laughter and respect.


Anupama Raju is a poet, novelist, literary translator and communications professional."


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