Cartographies of Silence: Mapping Silence in Agyeya’s Shekhar: Ek Jeevani: Upama Rani and Umesh Kumar

Introduction 

The research article focuses on one of the foremost writers in Hindi literature: Sachchidanand Hirananda Vatsyayan (1911-87) better known by his nom de plume of Agyeya – meaning unknowable.  Drawing upon his magnum opus Shekhar: Ek Jeevani (Shekhar: A Life, 1941), the article situates Agyeya as a champion of silence –the unsaid. The article further argues how the publication of Shekhar heralded a shift in Hindi narrative traditions from a preoccupation with social realism to an engagement with interiority.  The individual concerns of the character were now voiced by depicting the psychological workings of his mind. The novel can be seen as a product of Shekhar’s—and through him, Agyeya’s—silent contemplation on different facets of life.

          Journeying from being a soldier in the British Indian army to being a revolutionary youth who was jailed during the freedom struggle and later, a ‘patron saint’ of Hindi literature, Agyeya saw and lived it all. Agyeya was also a journalist, diarist, travel writer, sketch artist, and photographer. In other words, he was probably the first genuine polymath of the Hindi literary world. Calling himself an ‘anarchist’, Agyeya remained a yayavar (wanderer) all his life, giving meaning to his ever-changing literary and artistic persuasions, without stultifying within the confines of a single idea, ideology, or belief system. For instance, when Marxism, under the banner of the Progressive Writers Association, was the go-to option for Hindi writers of the time, Agyeya refused to accept that writers could single handedly usher in social change. Instead he held that at most, a writer can deepen human sensibility which might eventually lead to social change. Instances such as these reveal to us that Agyeya was not only a polymath of rank in the Hindi literary world but also one of the first free thinkers. 

          Harish Trivedi, a well-known literary critic, equates Agyeya’s poetry with that of T.S. Eliot (1888-1965) and Ezra Pound (1885-1972). Trivedi does not hesitate to call him the D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930) of Hindi literature for his pioneering efforts in liberating the Hindi novel from being mired in restrictive and hypocritical sexual mores. He also clarifies that these comparisons are not meant to imply that Agyeya imitated Western writers. On the contrary, his robustly indigenous and deeply rooted sensibility even led some critics to accuse him of being too “Indian”. In fact, these comparisons illustrate that Agyeya occupies a seminal place in Hindi literature, analogous to the collective influence of Eliot, Pound, and Lawrence, in Anglo-American literature (Trivedi 80).

          Making a critical assessment of Agyeya’s life and craft, Ashok Vajpeyi forwards six key arguments: (a) Agyeya considered literature to be essentially linked to human freedom, (b) celebrating the individual and individual subjectivity, (c) establishing an organic relationship between mankind, nature, society, and the individual, and (d) the role of literature was to serve as a tool of self-realisation, while (e) insisting on the primacy of language, especially in terms of establishing Hindi as a modern language, and (f) drawing a serious connection between tradition and modernity (Vajpeyi 251-52). 

          A scrutiny of Vajpeyi’s above formulations on Agyeya fetches us a uniform undercurrent: that is, Agyeya’s fascination with the individual. However, this fascination is not the usual kind that deals with the exteriors or, in other words, the material existence of the person. On the contrary, Agyeya’s lifelong focus was to showcase the inner life of an individual in his literary writings. This focus marked a significant departure from the didactic social realism that characterized the works of his predecessors, such as Premchand. While Premchand’s narratives largely portrayed external social realities with moralistic undertones, Agyeya explored the nuanced inner world of his characters, reflecting existential struggles and psychological depths.

          Shekhar too epitomizes this turn towards interiority. The novel is structured as a first-person autobiographical narrative, providing an introspective account of the protagonist Shekhar’s thoughts, memories, and emotions. Rather than focusing on external events, Agyeya delves into Shekhar’s psyche, his philosophical dilemmas, and his quest for self-identity. For instance, Shekhar’s inner conflict between individual freedom and societal norms is vividly articulated, emphasizing subjective experience over collective reality. This narrative style, reminiscent of the stream-of-consciousness technique, underscores Agyeya’s commitment to exploring the complexities of human consciousness.

          Similarly, in his first poetry collection Bhagnadoot (1933), Agyeya employs evocative imagery and free verse to capture transient emotions and philosophical reflections. Poems such as Hari Ghas Par Kshanbhar (A Moment on Green Grass) are not concerned with social commentary but with fleeting experiences of beauty, solitude, and the passage of time. The lyrical subjectivity of his poetry aligns with modernist tendencies, where individual perception takes precedence over external realities. In contrast to Premchand’s works like Godaan (1936), which critiques systemic inequalities through the lens of rural life, Agyeya’s narratives avoid overt moralism or didacticism. Instead, they adopt an existentialist framework, addressing questions of alienation, freedom, and self-actualization. For instance, the short story Nadi Ke Dweep (Islands in the River) explores the disconnection and yearning of its protagonists, whose inner worlds remain isolated despite their shared experiences. 

          This shift towards interiority and subjectivity can be contextualized within broader literary trends. Agyeya’s engagement with Western existentialism, psychoanalysis, and modernist literature influenced his rejection of collectivist ideologies and traditional narrative forms. His works resonate with the writings of European modernists like Marcel Proust and Virginia Woolf, whose focus on the inner self reshaped narrative conventions. By privileging the subjective over the social, Agyeya transformed Hindi literature into a medium for exploring existential questions and the intricacies of human consciousness. His contribution not only broadened the thematic and stylistic scope of Hindi prose and poetry but also paved the way for subsequent writers like Nirmal Verma and Mohan Rakesh, who furthered the modernist project in Indian literature. Thus, Agyeya’s focus on interiority and subjectivity represents a radical shift in Hindi literary tradition, moving beyond the constraints of social realism to embrace the complexities of the individual mind and spirit. 

          It needs to be mentioned emphatically that silence is the most potent weapon Agyeya uses to unpeel the interiors of a literary subject at hand. In other words, silence is the method Agyeya employs to make sense of the life of his literary characters. On the personal front, Agyeya’s had a restless and silent disposition. As a person and a writer, he was always on the lookout for experiences that were intellectually transformative. This continuous search, however, pushed him towards an unceasing disenchantment. Agyeya never stayed or felt at peace in one place or engaged with one thing. Always looking to unearth new intellectual terrains, he remained profoundly dissatisfied and disillusioned. All in all, his silence and reticence defined his demeanour. In one of his letters, Agyeya confesses, “My entire life is led internally and never gets expressed. The other life, which is led on the surface, is almost impersonal. If the story of Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde fits anyone, it’s me” (Mukul xiii).

          This could well have been the reason that Agyeya, in his creative expressions, becomes a strong defender for the depiction of silence – the unsaid. In fact, in a radio broadcast, Agyeya (1966) emphasises the importance of silence in artistic expression. He asserts that a true artist not only uses words meaningfully but also enhances their impact through the strategic omission of words or syllables, i.e., the use of “charged silences” (88). He believes that the highest artistic use of language involves not just the full meaning of words, but also the meaning that emerges from the silences between them. Agyeya explains that the right words are those that make the richest use of these silences. Drawing from his heritage, he suggests that poetry resides not in the language or the words themselves, but in the silence between them. He intuitively understands that “the other” can be reached and dialogue established because communication is possible through silence (Agyeya 88-89). Though he begins this exploration of silence by way of poetry his stance on silence applies across other genres and works as well. Let us now take a closer look at Shekhar: Ek Jeevani (Shekhar: A Life, 1941) to help illustrate the point raised above.

          Confronting the possibility of death by execution, the narrative in Shekhar is haunted by the question of death. The contemplation in silence allows the titular character to distil the essence of life and transcribe it thus: 

“Destructibility!

When the thorns will be ravished by cruel storms of wind

Who will hear the words of the blossoms, trapped therein

When my selfhood will be mute in its final repose

The silence within me how will anyone disclose

Who, destructibility!” (33)

Although the story begins with a silent contemplation of death, it slowly transcends into a celebration of life, faith, and the human spirit. In the novel, the circumstances of Shekhar’s birth are laden with symbolic elements, providing an early intimation that the boy will lead a life of introspection. The description of the setting — “approximately twilight” when “the birds had finished chirping and had retreated to their nests, where in some meditative contemplation, some inert curiosity, they fell silent” (37) — creates a serene, reflective atmosphere. This environment is marked by the contrast between the active daylight and the quiet, contemplative twilight, suggesting a shift from external activity to internal reflection. Twilight symbolises a transitional period, conducive to introspection and, the place of Shekhar’s birth—the ruins of a Buddhist temple—could also symbolise the blending of past and present, the sacred and the mundane. Ruins often evoke a sense of history and timelessness, suggesting that Shekhar’s introspection may be linked to a deeper, almost timeless quest for understanding and meaning. The day’s auspiciousness – marked by the public viewing of a casket containing the remains of Gautam Buddha —imbues Shekhar’s birth with a sense of destiny and preordained significance. A mendicant, who had come to worship the casket and was staying as a guest at Shekhar’s father’s home, upon hearing of the child’s birth, proclaimed, “This child is an incarnation of the Buddha…”(38). This proclamation further reinforces the notion that Shekhar is destined for a life of profound self-discovery and spiritual exploration.

          However, for Shekhar, the journey towards self-realisation is fraught with challenges and complexities and, more importantly, a negotiation with that which is silent. Let us discuss a few such negotiations. 

Silence in/around Caste

Shekhar first encounters caste as a child, while playing with a girl named Phula who resides in his neighbourhood. Their games often took them into each other’s homes, where they enjoyed innocent and unrestricted camaraderie. However, this innocence was abruptly shattered when Shekhar’s family warned him against eating, drinking, or touching anything in Phula’s home due to her lower caste status. Curious, Shekhar asked: “Are there other people who don’t eat with them, too?” (56) The response: “No, no one from a decent caste eats with them”. Perplexed, he further inquired, “Then why do we play with them or talk to them?” This time, he received no answer. Persisting, he was brusquely told by his mother, “Don’t bother me. Just accept the things you are told. Don’t make everything into an issue” (56). This interaction highlights the enforced silence surrounding caste norms, where even questioning this deeply held prejudice is discouraged. The silencing and setting aside of young Shekhar’s question is an attempt to maintain the status quo of the existing caste hierarchy. 

          The enforced silence serves multiple purposes. It ensures the perpetuation of caste-based prejudices by discouraging critical thinking and inquiry. By not providing rational explanations to Shekhar’s innocent questions, his family effectively stifles any potential for challenging or changing the oppressive system. This silence is not just the absence of sound, but also a deliberate act of suppression, keeping discriminatory practices intact. Moreover, this silence isolates individuals within their own caste confines, preventing meaningful interactions that could foster understanding and empathy across caste lines. Shekhar’s experience reveals how early and insidiously this silence is instilled, teaching children to accept and perpetuate these divisions without questions.

          There is another episode in the novel dealing with caste rigidity where silence emerges as a powerful tool of resistance against the social hierarchy. This is particularly evident in the incident where Shekhar and his companion are denied water by a lower-caste individual:

“So there must be water over there, right?

‘No, sir’.

‘Huh? No water at home? How do you manage?’

He was silent.

I said again, ‘Come on, give us some water. We’re very thirsty’.

He was silent again” (58).

          The above excerpt presents a seemingly straightforward scenario: a request for water denied. However, a closer look reveals a nuanced interplay of silences that challenge the established power structure. The lower-caste man’s silence, initially interpreted as submission, becomes a form of defiance. By refusing to participate in the charade of offering water, knowing it would be deemed polluting; he forces Shekhar and his companion to confront their assumptions about caste superiority. The man’s array of silence(s) disrupts the expected codes of social exchange and compels Shekhar to confront the discriminatory nature of the caste system.

          Furthermore, the silence surrounding the man’s occupation — menial labour — carries significant weight. When Shekhar’s companion insults the man because of his occupation, the man’s response breaks another silence. He defends his job with pride, rejecting the stigma associated with it. This act of self-assertion, following his initial silence, highlights the power of silence as a tool to reclaim dignity and challenge societal prejudices. Interestingly, Shekhar’s laughter, when he is refused water in spite of his superior caste status, can also be viewed as a form of silencing. By dismissing the gravity of the situation and assuming caste wouldn’t be a barrier, his laughter attempts to silence the man’s potential resistance and reinforce the existing power structure. However, the man’s continued silence disrupts this attempt, forcing Shekhar to confront his own limitations and the entrenched nature of caste-based discrimination. The ultimate silence lies in the lack of resolution. Denied water, Shekhar and his companion must remain thirsty. 

          In yet another major event in the novel, caste-based violence appears in the garb of silence. Silence, in fact, becomes a multifaceted tool that creates a sense of oppression and complicity, yielding a yearning for justice. An Untouchable woman is brutally murdered by some Brahmins and the corresponding report in the newspaper, supposedly the voice of truth and the keeper of public conscience, is silent on the motive behind the brutal attack. The report simply says: “Death was the result of a blow from a blunt instrument; no reason could be found for the murder”. However, the report did not fail to mention that the body had been found on a “segregated” road, and that the woman was an Untouchable (224-25). Shekhar’s internal conflict on the matter further amplifies the impact of silence. Despite knowing the reality that the woman’s death is the result of prevailing caste hatred, he remains silent. Though he remained silent, his body shivered, showing how awful he felt about what he saw. The repetition of the words “untouchable” and “brahmin” throughout his internal monologue underscores stark social hierarchies and their undeniable role in perpetuating such violence. The vivid imagery of the woman’s blood dripping onto Shekhar’s person becomes a potent symbol of unspoken guilt. He, a Brahmin, is metaphorically “bathed” in the blood of an Untouchable, a constant reminder of the brutality inflicted by the people of his own caste.

          The silence in this incident is not merely the absence of spoken words; it is a deafening indictment of the social order. The lack of words becomes a powerful tool, forcing the reader to confront the brutality of the caste system and the burden of complicity that it creates. This evocative silence becomes a space for reflection, demanding a call for justice and a dismantling of existing power hierarchies. 

Silence in/around Sex 

The persistence of silence around sex and childbirth in Shekhar highlights the cultural and social taboos that stifle conversations about natural events in life. Shekhar’s innocent curiosity about how babies are born is met with evasion and silence from his elders, reflecting a broader societal discomfort around discussing sexuality with children. The silence is indicative of the cultural norms that consider such topics inappropriate for young minds, thus perpetuating a cycle of ignorance and confusion. The elders’ reluctance to provide clear answers leaves Shekhar dissatisfied, forcing him to seek information elsewhere, albeit with limited success due to his young age.

          A somewhat credible and convincing response comes from his elder sister, Saraswati, who tells him that babies come from a mother’s body. Intrigued, he probes further, asking “from where?” and “how?” But Saraswati remains silent, offering no further explanation: “I don’t know! She wrapped her head and face in the blanket and lay down. Shekhar called to her repeatedly, even went to her and shook her, but she didn’t speak, didn’t say a word” (137). Saraswati’s silence symbolises a broader societal tendency to wrap sexuality and reproductive processes in a shroud of secrecy, leaving individuals like Shekhar to grapple with their curiosity in isolation. 

          As Shekhar grows into adolescence, his quest for knowledge about sex and childbirth intensifies, but the organic silence imposed upon him from childhood is an obstacle. His attempt to educate himself by reading books meant for “married people” indicates a desperate need to fill the gaps left by the lack of open dialogue. However, the new knowledge he acquires is overwhelming and makes him feel sinful, producing internal conflict, shame, and guilt. This culture of silence thus highlights the detrimental effects of withholding information about sex and sexuality from young people, thereby fostering a sense of shame and taboo around a natural human experience.

Silence as a Weapon of Rebellion

The use of silence as a weapon for rebellion in Shekhar’s formative years serves as a powerful motif reflecting the broader anti-colonial sentiment prevalent during the Indian Independence movement. Inspired by the Gandhian Non-Cooperation Movement, Shekhar’s actions illustrate a conscious rejection of British influence and a deep commitment to the nationalist cause. His decision to discard foreign-made clothes and adopt the swadeshi attire symbolises his personal alignment with the broader resistance against colonial rule. This silent protest through sartorial alteration signifies his silent defiance and the internalisation of the struggle for self-reliance and independence. Furthermore, Shekhar’s act of silently gathering and burning all foreign-manufactured clothes in his house illustrates a significant shift in his personal identity and ideological stance. This act of rebellion is not just a form of protest against foreign goods but also a symbolic purification of his household from colonial contamination.

          The episode where Shekhar denies speaking English goes on to underscores his use of silence as resistance. English, a symbol of colonial authority and cultural imposition, becomes a focal point of Shekhar’s rebellion. His refusal to answer the boy’s simple questions such as “What is your name?” and “Do you go to school?” (118) in English is a conscious act of non-compliance, a rejection of the language of the colonisers. Moreover, it is a rejection of colonial subjugation and an assertion of cultural pride. By incorporating more Hindi words into his speech, Shekhar reclaims his linguistic identity and distances himself from colonial influence. This deliberate silence is a form of protest, a way of asserting his agency and aligning himself with the ideas and agendas of the freedom struggle.

Silence as a Method to Attain Truth, Peace, and Self-realisation

In Shekhar, silence is used not just as an absence of sound, but a space for introspection, connection with nature, and spiritual enlightenment. Even as a child, Shekhar longed for tranquillity and escape from worldly pursuits to discover a deeper sense of self. He craves a life of authenticity and simplicity, where he can pursue his true nature. Silence, in this context, is a gateway to an ideal state of being, where one can connect with their innermost thoughts and feelings, achieving a sense of inner peace and self-realisation.

          Shekhar’s encounter with statues of Lord Mahavir and Goddess Tara deepens his experience of silence, leading towards spiritual and existential reflection. The profound silence he encounters there allows him to transcend ordinary perceptions of time and space, immersing him in a state of pure being. This moment of intense tranquillity provides Shekhar with a rare opportunity to connect with a higher order, a mystical reality. The narrative indicates that in such moments of silence, one can encounter a deeper, more truthful aspect of existence, free from the distractions and noise of the external world. This encounter with silence is both unsettling and enlightening for Shekhar, highlighting the dual nature of silence as both a comforting and a daunting space for self-discovery.

          In the same vein, Shekhar’s experience at Dal Lake exhibits silence as a path to self-realisation and divine connection. There, Shekhar feels an overwhelming sense of purity and oneness with the universe after stripping away all of his clothes, a symbolic act of shedding worldly impurities. This act of embracing silence and solitude brings him closer to a transcendental experience, towards a spiritual awakening. The narrative draws a parallel between this and Gautam Buddha’s enlightenment under the Bodhi tree, suggesting that Shekhar’s encounter with silence at Dal Lake is a moment of profound spiritual significance. This experience leaves a lasting impact on him, though he never revisits the spot, indicating the uniqueness and irreplaceability of that transformative moment. As a matter of fact, the Buddha too never revisited the Bodhi tree after attaining enlightenment.   

          The episodes recounted above demonstrate how silence emerges as a powerful tool for Shekhar to attain truth, peace, and self-realisation. For Shekhar, silence becomes a sanctuary, a place where he can associate with his true self and the deeper truth of existence. It allows him to detach from the noise of societal expectations and external chaos and offers him the clarity to introspect and confront his innermost conflicts. In these moments of stillness, silence transcends its passive connotations and transforms into an active, transformative force, guiding Shekhar toward understanding his purpose and reclaiming his sense of individuality.

Conclusion

Shekhar: Ek Jeevani stands as a landmark in modernist Hindi literature, signaling a profound shift from the dominant narrative of social realism to a more introspective focus on individual consciousness and subjectivity. This transition is achieved through the intricate portrayal of the psychological workings of the titular character’s mind, capturing his innermost conflicts, desires, and reflections. The novel can thus be viewed as a product of Shekhar’s—and, by extension, Agyeya’s—deep and silent contemplation on the complexities of life, identity, and existence.

          Agyeya’s use of silence as a motif lends the novel its distinct narrative and philosophical depth. Silence becomes an avenue through which Shekhar confronts the realities of the world. Whether associated with the oppressive structures of caste hierarchies, the restrictive mores surrounding sexuality, or the spirit of rebellion against societal norms, silence acquires different layers of meaning. It functions both as a space for resistance and as a medium for seeking truth, inner peace, and self-realisation. It is within these moments of quietude that Shekhar seeks refuge from a chaotic, oppressive world and attains clarity in understanding his fragmented self. Silence, therefore, functions as both a tool of protest and a pathway to truth, peace, and spiritual awakening.

          In a world teeming with noise, chaos, and societal distractions, the novel presents silence as a form of agency and clarity. It is within the cartographies of silence that Shekhar can navigate the complexities of his identity and confront the contradictions of his existence. Agyeya’s exploration of silence as both a theme and a narrative device allows readers to engage with Shekhar’s innermost thoughts, where the unsaid often speaks louder than words. Ultimately, Shekhar transcends its immediate narrative to reflect a universal human desire for meaning, truth, and freedom, making it a landmark in the evolution of Hindi literary modernism.