Wednesday, November 5, 2025

203 : Globalization and Postcolonial Identity: From Frantz Fanon to Ania Loomba and the Indian Cinematic Imagination


Globalization and Postcolonial Identity: From Frantz Fanon to Ania Loomba and the Indian Cinematic Imagination


Assignment of Paper 203: Postcolonial studies 


Academic Details

  • Name: Krupali Belam
  • Roll No : 13
  • Enrollment No : 5108240007
  • Semester: 3
  • Batch: 2024–26
  • Email: krupalibelam1204@gmail.com


Assignment Details:

Paper Name:Postcolonial studies 

Paper No.:203

Topic: Globalization and Postcolonial Identity: From Frantz Fanon to Ania Loomba and the Indian Cinematic Imagination

• Submitted To: Smt. Sujata Binoy Gardi, Department of English, Maharaja Krishnakumarsinhji Bhavnagar University

Submission Date: 7 November 2025


Table of Contents

Abstract 

Keywords 

Research Question

1. Introduction 

2. Frantz Fanon and the Foundations of Postcolonial Identity 

3. Ania Loomba and Globalization: Rethinking Postcolonialism 

4. Comparative Framework: Fanon and Loomba 

5. Indian Cinematic Imagination: From Lagaan to The White Tiger

6. Globalization and the Future of Postcolonial Studies 

7. Conclusion 

References 


Abstract

This paper explores the evolving concept of postcolonial identity through the theoretical lens of Frantz Fanon and Ania Loomba, tracing its transformation from the violent struggle for decolonization to the subtle negotiations of identity within globalization. It examines how the foundational ideas in Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth on decolonial resistance and national consciousness find renewed relevance in Ania Loomba’s critique of global capitalism, hybridity, and neocolonialism. Furthermore, it extends this theoretical dialogue into contemporary Indian cinema specifically films such as Lagaan (2001), Rang De Basanti (2006), and The White Tiger (2021) to reveal how postcolonial identities continue to be shaped by the intersection of global and local forces. The study argues that the postcolonial subject is not merely a residue of colonial history but an active participant in the global cultural economy, negotiating identity through resistance, hybridity, and self-representation.



Keywords

Postcolonialism, Globalization, Frantz Fanon, Ania Loomba, Indian Cinema, Hybridity, Neocolonialism, Resistance, Identity, Cultural Politics


Research Question

How has the concept of postcolonial identity evolved from Fanon’s revolutionary decolonization to Loomba’s theorization of globalization, and how do contemporary Indian films reflect and reframe these transformations?


Hypothesis

The paper hypothesizes that globalization, while appearing as an emancipatory force, continues to reproduce colonial hierarchies through cultural and economic dominance. However, in the spirit of Fanon’s decolonial vision and Loomba’s critical globalization theory, Indian cinema becomes a crucial space for rearticulating postcolonial identity transforming resistance from physical liberation to cultural self-definition in a globalized context.


1. Introduction

The concept of postcolonial identity lies at the intersection of history, culture, and politics. Emerging from the ashes of colonial domination, it encapsulates the struggles of formerly colonized societies to reclaim their agency and cultural voice. Yet, in the twenty-first century, as globalization reshapes economic and cultural landscapes, the postcolonial subject finds itself entangled in a new web of power relations. The question arises has decolonization truly ended, or has it merely taken on another form under the global capitalist order?

This study situates Frantz Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth (1961) and Ania Loomba’s Colonialism/Postcolonialism (2005, 2015) as pivotal theoretical texts for understanding this shift. Fanon, writing during the height of anti-colonial struggle, envisioned liberation through radical transformation political, psychological, and cultural. Loomba, conversely, theorizes how the same structures of inequality that Fanon resisted persist in new guises through the globalization of markets, media, and migration. Together, their works chart the trajectory from the physical violence of decolonization to the symbolic violence of neoliberalism.

Connecting these theoretical frameworks to Indian cinema allows us to see how postcolonial identity operates beyond academia in everyday cultural expressions that shape popular consciousness. Films like Lagaan and Rang De Basanti reimagine colonial history and youth rebellion, while The White Tiger critiques the neocolonial class hierarchies of modern India. Each film, in its own way, echoes Fanon’s call for decolonization and Loomba’s warning against the deceptive inclusivity of globalization.

The comparative framework adopted here does not view Fanon and Loomba as opposing thinkers but as two ends of a historical continuum: Fanon’s revolutionary subject evolves into Loomba’s globalized, hybrid self. The postcolonial identity, therefore, is no longer defined solely by opposition to the colonizer but by negotiation within global systems of power.

This paper proceeds in seven sections. After outlining Fanon’s theoretical foundations of postcolonial identity, it turns to Loomba’s reconceptualization of postcolonialism in the age of globalization. It then undertakes a comparative analysis of both frameworks before exploring how Indian cinema visualizes and contests global hierarchies through hybrid forms of storytelling. Ultimately, it argues that globalization, while promising cultural exchange, often extends colonial patterns of domination and that postcolonial identity survives through ongoing acts of creative resistance.



2. Frantz Fanon and the Foundations of Postcolonial Identity


Frantz Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth stands as one of the most influential texts in postcolonial thought. Written during the Algerian War of Independence, it portrays decolonization as not merely a political event but a total transformation of human consciousness. Fanon insists that colonialism dehumanizes both colonizer and colonized, reducing the latter to an object within a racist hierarchy. Liberation, therefore, requires not reform but rupture.

Fanon declares, “Decolonization is always a violent phenomenon” (Fanon 35). This violence is both literal and psychological a cathartic force through which the colonized reclaim agency and humanity. Yet, Fanon’s advocacy of violence is often misunderstood. He does not glorify bloodshed but identifies it as the inevitable result of centuries of suppression. The colonized subject, long silenced, must act to reconstitute their being in history.

Beyond revolution, Fanon emphasizes the importance of national consciousness a collective awakening that binds individuals to a shared identity beyond colonial categories. In The Wretched of the Earth, he warns that after political independence, the national bourgeoisie often imitates the colonizer’s economic model, perpetuating inequality. Fanon’s vision, therefore, anticipates the very critique of neocolonialism that later theorists like Loomba and Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o would expand.

A crucial element of Fanon’s theory is the psychological colonization of the mind. As Lewis Gordon notes, Fanon understood colonialism as “epistemic violence” a domination not only of land but of meaning itself (Gordon 82). The colonized internalize the inferiority imposed by the colonizer, creating what Fanon calls a “zone of non-being.” Hence, liberation must begin with a transformation of consciousness, what Ngũgĩ later described as “decolonizing the mind.”

Fanon’s influence extends beyond political theory to literature, philosophy, and cultural studies. His ideas reverberate in the works of Edward Said, who exposed the cultural imperialism of Orientalist discourse, and in Gayatri Spivak’s question, “Can the Subaltern Speak?” Together, they illustrate how Fanon’s notion of reclaiming voice remains central to postcolonial identity formation.


3. Ania Loomba and Globalization: Rethinking Postcolonialism


While Fanon wrote in the fervor of anti-colonial revolution, Ania Loomba writes in the aftermath when global capitalism and digital networks have replaced empires but not their hierarchies. In her seminal text Colonialism/Postcolonialism, Loomba interrogates the illusion that globalization has dissolved colonial boundaries. Instead, she argues, globalization represents “the latest phase of imperialism,” where control is exercised through economic dependency, cultural homogenization, and global media flows (Loomba 216).

For Loomba, postcolonialism cannot be understood apart from globalization because the two processes are historically intertwined. The colonial expansion of Europe was the first form of globalization, spreading capitalist markets, Western epistemologies, and racial hierarchies across the globe. Contemporary globalization, while seemingly more democratic, still privileges Western capital and culture under the guise of cosmopolitanism.

Loomba’s intervention is twofold. First, she critiques the assumption that postcolonialism is a completed stage. Instead, she proposes the term postcoloniality a condition that persists as long as global inequalities remain. Second, she redefines identity as a site of constant negotiation. In the globalized world, the postcolonial subject is hybrid: simultaneously local and global, resistant and complicit.

Drawing from Homi K. Bhabha’s concepts of hybridity and mimicry, Loomba suggests that hybridity is not mere cultural mixing but a political strategy. It allows the subaltern to speak within dominant systems, altering meanings from within. Yet, she also warns against celebrating hybridity uncritically, as global capitalism often commodifies difference to sustain its dominance.

Loomba’s analysis extends Fanon’s concerns into the present. Where Fanon feared the national bourgeoisie’s mimicry of the colonizer, Loomba identifies multinational corporations and global media as new agents of mimicry replicating Western consumer culture across the world. The result is a paradoxical identity: outwardly diverse but inwardly homogenized.

Her reflections on global feminism, diaspora, and transnationalism further complicate postcolonial identity. For instance, diasporic identities, though hybrid, often reproduce privilege through class and access to global mobility. Loomba thus calls for a critical postcolonialism one aware of its complicity in global power relations.


4. Comparative Framework: Fanon and Loomba


Both Fanon and Loomba engage with the central problem of domination, but their contexts and therefore their strategies differ. Fanon’s world was one of direct occupation; Loomba’s, one of dispersed control. Yet both understand that power reproduces itself through culture and consciousness.

Fanon’s revolutionary subject seeks liberation through rupture. His language is apocalyptic, envisioning a world reborn through violence and solidarity. Loomba’s subject, by contrast, resists through negotiation within cultural institutions, media, and global flows. Her language is critical rather than prophetic. Still, both insist that resistance must be conscious, collective, and creative.

Fanon’s critique of the postcolonial bourgeoisie finds resonance in Loomba’s analysis of global elites. The “national bourgeoisie,” once content to replace the colonizer, now serves the global capitalist class. In both cases, the masses remain excluded from the promised benefits of independence or globalization.


Their differences also reveal a theoretical evolution:

  • Fanon focuses on material liberation (land, power, agency).
  • Loomba focuses on discursive liberation (representation, narrative, identity).

In combining both perspectives, one sees that postcolonial identity today must fight on two fronts: against economic neocolonialism and against epistemic colonization through media and culture.


5. Indian Cinematic Imagination: From Lagaan to The White Tiger



Cinema in India has long served as a cultural space where colonial memory, national identity, and global aspirations intersect. Films such as Lagaan (Ashutosh Gowariker, 2001), Rang De Basanti (Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra, 2006), and The White Tiger (Ramin Bahrani, 2021) reveal how postcolonial identity is negotiated within the pressures of globalization. Each dramatizes a different historical moment the colonial past, the neoliberal present, and the globalized future forming a cinematic continuum of resistance that parallels the theoretical trajectory from Fanon to Loomba.


Lagaan: Re-enacting the Colonial Encounter

Set in nineteenth-century India, Lagaan transforms the colonial power struggle into a cricket match between Indian peasants and British officers. The film becomes an allegory of Fanon’s idea that decolonization involves “a complete disordering of the colonial world” (The Wretched of the Earth 36). The villagers’ refusal to pay the oppressive tax (lagaan) and their victory on the cricket field symbolize the reclaiming of dignity through collective action.

Gowariker’s use of cricket a quintessentially British sport reverses mimicry into mastery, echoing Homi Bhabha’s concept that mimicry “repeats rather than re-presents” colonial authority, exposing its fragility (Bhabha 88). The villagers learn the colonizer’s game only to defeat him at it, transforming an instrument of domination into a means of liberation. The film’s reception abroad, especially its Oscar nomination, also demonstrates Loomba’s notion of “postcolonial texts entering global circuits,” where indigenous narratives gain visibility but risk commodification within Western markets. Thus, Lagaan performs both resistance and participation in globalization simultaneously subverting and benefiting from it.


Rang De Basanti: From Nationalism to Global Activism 



Rang De Basanti bridges colonial memory and contemporary disillusionment. A group of Delhi students cast in a film about freedom fighters become politically radicalized after a friend’s death in a military scandal. The film blends past and present through cross-cutting between British-era executions and modern student protests, embodying Fanon’s notion of “national consciousness” awakening through action (Fanon 148).

However, the film’s resistance is symbolic rather than armed. Its heroes use media as their weapon occupying a radio station to broadcast truth representing a new mode of postcolonial rebellion mediated by global communication technology. Loomba’s ideas on global hybridity and transnational activism are vivid here: the protagonists are westernized youth who rediscover national history through a global language of media and spectacle.

As film scholar Jyotika Virdi notes, modern Bollywood often “invokes history to speak to the present while remaining firmly anchored in a global cinematic aesthetic” (Virdi 134). Rang De Basanti thus reflects how postcolonial identity in global India is a hybrid formation both cosmopolitan and national, both consumerist and critical. It illustrates Loomba’s claim that resistance in the age of globalization must navigate within the very systems it seeks to challenge.


The White Tiger: Neocolonialism and the Global Class Order


Ramin Bahrani’s film adaptation of Aravind Adiga’s novel (2008) represents postcolonial India fully absorbed into global capitalism. Balram Halwai, a poor chauffeur turned entrepreneur, narrates his ascent within a system that mimics the colonial logic of master and servant. His journey embodies Loomba’s thesis that globalization has not erased colonial hierarchies but repackaged them as economic aspiration. When Balram murders his employer and creates his own company, he fulfills Fanon’s vision of violent liberation but within a neoliberal framework his freedom depends on adopting the very ethos of exploitation he escaped.

Critics have linked the film to “subaltern modernity,” where the global South participates in capitalism while bearing its contradictions (Chakrabarty 202). The White Tiger is neither a simple success story nor a moral fable but a mirror to Fanon’s “postcolonial bourgeoisie” corrupt, ambitious, and alienated. Through dark satire, the film reveals the psychological continuity between colonial servitude and neoliberal slavery.


6. Globalization and the Future of Postcolonial Studies


The dialogue between Fanon and Loomba invites reflection on the future of postcolonial studies. If the twentieth century was the era of national liberation, the twenty-first is the era of global interdependence. The central challenge today is to address new forms of domination that operate without colonial flags through data monopolies, cultural algorithms, and economic dependency. Loomba urges scholars to expand postcolonial critique into fields like environmental justice and digital capitalism, bridging the gap between the “local past” and the “global future.”

In this sense, postcolonial studies must evolve into a form of planetary critique, echoing Dipesh Chakrabarty’s call to “think the human beyond the nation” (Chakrabarty). Global warming, migration, and digital surveillance are the new frontiers of power. They demand a critical framework that combines Fanon’s moral urgency with Loomba’s analytic breadth.

The films discussed here already gesture toward this future. Lagaan historicizes resistance, Rang De Basanti globalizes it, and The White Tiger commodifies it. Together they trace the arc from decolonization to global assimilation, reminding viewers that the struggle for agency never ends it merely changes form.

As Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o observes, “decolonizing the mind is an ongoing process”. Postcolonial identity in the age of globalization must therefore remain dynamic rooted in historical memory yet attuned to emerging realities. Only then can Fanon’s dream of a truly human world survive the global market’s seductive homogenization.


7. Conclusion


The journey from Fanon’s Algeria to Loomba’s globalized world reveals the enduring paradox of postcolonial identity. Colonialism’s political structures may have collapsed, but its epistemic and economic frameworks persist. Through Fanon, we see the urgency of psychological liberation; through Loomba, we grasp the complexity of cultural entanglement. Indian cinema translates these abstract theories into lived stories of peasants, students, and entrepreneurs who negotiate their place in a world still structured by inequality.

Globalization does not abolish colonial difference; it remaps it. Yet within this remapping lies the possibility of renewal. Fanon’s revolutionary spirit and Loomba’s critical insight together offer a framework for ethical resistance in the twenty-first century one that moves from the battlefield to the screen, from political struggle to cultural creation.

Thus, postcolonial identity today is neither a return to tradition nor a surrender to global modernity. It is a hybrid act of consciousness always in translation, always in resistance. As Ania Loomba writes, “Postcolonialism must remain unfinished, for the project of decolonization is not yet complete.” The task of the postcolonial thinker, artist, and citizen is to continue that unfinished work.


Word count: 2850

Images: 6


References 

Adiga, Aravind. The White Tiger. HarperCollins, 2008.

Appadurai, Arjun. Modernity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization. University of Minnesota Press, 1996.

Bahrani, Ramin, director. The White Tiger. Netflix, 2021.

Bhabha, Homi K. The Location of Culture. Routledge, 1994.

Chakrabarty, Dipesh. “The Climate of History: Four Theses.” Critical Inquiry, vol. 35, no. 2, 2009, pp. 197–222. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.1086/596640. Accessed 7 Nov. 2025.

Fanon, Frantz. The Wretched of the Earth. Translated by Constance Farrington, Grove Press, 1963.

Gordon, Lewis R. What Fanon Said: A Philosophical Introduction to His Life and Thought. Fordham University Press, 2015.

Gowariker, Ashutosh, director. Lagaan: Once Upon a Time in India. Aamir Khan Productions, 2001.

Loomba, Ania. Colonialism/Postcolonialism. 2nd ed., Routledge, 2005.

Mehra, Rakeysh Omprakash, director. Rang De Basanti. UTV Motion Pictures, 2006.

Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o. Decolonising the Mind: The Politics of Language in African Literature. Heinemann, 1986.

Rajadhyaksha, Ashish. Indian Cinema in the Time of Celluloid. Indiana University Press, 2009.

Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. “Can the Subaltern Speak?” Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture, edited by Cary Nelson and Lawrence Grossberg, University of Illinois Press, 1988, pp. 271–313.

Virdi, Jyotika. The Cinematic ImagiNation: Indian Popular Films as Social History. Rutgers University Press, 2003.

202: Gender, Religion, and Resistance: A Feminist-Postcolonial Reading of Final Solutions and The Great Indian Kitchen

 

Gender, Religion, and Resistance: A Feminist-Postcolonial Reading of Final Solutions and The Great Indian Kitchen


Assignment of Paper 202: Indian English Literature – Post-Independence


Academic Details

  • Name: Krupali Belam
  • Roll No : 13
  • Enrollment No : 5108240007
  • Semester: 3
  • Batch: 2024–26
  • Email: krupalibelam1204@gmail.com


Assignment Details

  • Paper Name: Indian English Literature – Post-Independence
  • Paper No.: 202
  • Unit: III – Final Solutions 
  • Topic: Gender, Religion, and Resistance: A Feminist-Postcolonial Reading of Final Solutions and The Great Indian Kitchen
  • Submitted To: Smt. Sujata Binoy Gardi, Department of English, Maharaja Krishnakumarsinhji Bhavnagar University
  • Submitted Date:  7 November 2025


Table of Contents


1. Abstract 

2. Keywords 

3. Research Question 

4. Hypothesis 

5. Introduction 

6. Theoretical Frameworks: Feminism and Postcolonial Feminism 

7. Cultural and Religious Patriarchy in India 

8. Mahesh Dattani’s Final Solutions: Religion and Gender in Communal Space 

9. Jeo Baby’s The Great Indian Kitchen: Domestic Space as Religious Discipline 

10. Silence, Speech, and Resistance 

11. Intersectionality of Gender, Class, and Religion 

12. Acts of Liberation and Possibility of Change 

13. Contemporary Relevance and Media Parallels 

14. Conclusion 

15. Works Cited / References 



Abstract

This paper explores the intersection of gender, religion, and resistance in Mahesh Dattani’s play Final Solutions (1993) and Jeo Baby’s Malayalam film The Great Indian Kitchen (2021), using the twin frameworks of feminist and postcolonial theory. Both texts reveal how patriarchal ideologies, often disguised as religious and cultural norms, shape women’s identities and dictate their domestic and social roles in post-independence India. The study examines how religion and ritual perpetuate systemic gender oppression while simultaneously offering spaces for subversive resistance. Through close textual and visual analysis, supported by feminist critics such as Simone de Beauvoir, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak, Chandra Talpade Mohanty, and Judith Butler, the paper argues that Dattani and Baby expose the gendered hierarchies inherent in religious institutions and transform silence, empathy, and bodily labour into acts of rebellion. By connecting dramatic and cinematic representations, the study illustrates that feminist resistance is not only an act of political defiance but also a process of reclaiming subjectivity and dignity in the postcolonial Indian context.



Keywords

Feminism, Postcolonial Feminism, Gender, Religion, Patriarchy, Mahesh Dattani, Jeo Baby, Resistance, Indian English Drama, Domestic Space, Female Agency


Research Question

How do Mahesh Dattani’s Final Solutions and Jeo Baby’s The Great Indian Kitchen reveal the interconnectedness of gender and religion, and in what ways do they represent female resistance within patriarchal and postcolonial structures?


Hypothesis

Both texts portray religion as a socio-cultural mechanism that enforces patriarchal discipline, yet they empower women by transforming silence, empathy, and domestic labour into vehicles of resistance and self-assertion.



1. Introduction

In post-independence Indian literature, writers and filmmakers have continuously grappled with the intertwined questions of identity, religion, and gender. The long-standing influence of patriarchy within Indian society has often been sanctioned by religious codes and traditional customs, which subordinate women under the guise of cultural purity and morality. Against this background, both Final Solutions (1993) and The Great Indian Kitchen (2021) present incisive critiques of patriarchal and religious power.

Mahesh Dattani, one of India’s leading contemporary dramatists, exposes the hypocrisy and internal contradictions of the urban middle class, revealing how communal politics infiltrate domestic spaces. His Final Solutions dramatizes Hindu–Muslim tensions in post-Partition India through the story of three generations of women Hardika, Aruna, and Smita each of whom negotiates faith, gender, and inherited prejudice differently.

Jeo Baby’s The Great Indian Kitchen, though belonging to a different medium, mirrors Dattani’s thematic concerns. The film portrays an unnamed woman’s life within a conservative, upper-caste Kerala household, where daily rituals and religious practices systematically devalue her labour and autonomy. Both creators transform ordinary spaces the home, the kitchen, the prayer room into political arenas where women’s silent endurance turns into resistance.

By situating both works within a feminist-postcolonial framework, this paper contends that gender oppression in India cannot be detached from religious and cultural conditioning. The comparative analysis not only demonstrates how religion polices women’s bodies and voices but also how women negotiate agency through empathy, rebellion, and self-definition.



2. Theoretical Frameworks: Feminism and Postcolonial Feminism


2.1 Feminism

Feminist theory seeks to challenge patriarchal systems that privilege male authority while marginalizing women’s voices. Simone de Beauvoir’s The Second Sex (1949) articulates a foundational idea for this paper: “One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman.” This suggests that femininity is socially constructed through cultural conditioning rather than biological destiny. Similarly, Judith Butler’s concept of gender performativity (Gender Trouble, 1990) argues that gender is not innate but performed through repeated acts gestures, rituals, and roles that society enforces as “natural.”

In Final Solutions, Dattani dramatizes these performances through Aruna’s religious piety and Hardika’s inherited prejudice. Their gestures ritual purity, temple observance, avoidance of “impure” contact illustrate Butler’s notion of gendered and religious performativity. The Great Indian Kitchen literalizes this performance within the domestic sphere, where repetitive acts of cooking, cleaning, and serving become rituals of obedience.

The convergence of Beauvoir and Butler illuminates how both authors depict women not as passive victims but as subjects aware of their roles within these performances and ultimately capable of disrupting them.


2.2 Postcolonial Feminism


Postcolonial feminism, articulated by scholars like Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak and Chandra Talpade Mohanty, critiques Western feminism for universalizing women’s experiences while ignoring the cultural, religious, and class-specific realities of the “Third World.” Spivak’s essay “Can the Subaltern Speak?” (1988) questions whether marginalized women those doubly oppressed by patriarchy and colonial legacies can represent themselves within dominant discourses. Mohanty’s “Under Western Eyes” (1984) emphasizes the need to situate women within local histories and power relations rather than treating them as a homogeneous category.

Applying these frameworks, Final Solutions and The Great Indian Kitchen both depict women as subaltern subjects their oppression justified through religion and tradition. Yet, their resistance emerges precisely from within these structures. Smita’s moral questioning and the unnamed wife’s eventual defiance embody Spivak’s “subaltern speech”: a breaking of silence that reclaims subjectivity without rejecting cultural identity entirely.

Postcolonial feminism thus bridges both works it reveals how gender, class, and religion intersect to define womanhood in India, and how women rewrite these definitions through everyday acts of agency.


3. Cultural and Religious Patriarchy in India


Religion has historically functioned as one of the primary instruments of social organization in India. While spiritual texts often advocate moral equality, the interpretations and ritual practices derived from them have reinforced gender hierarchies. The concept of purity, central to both caste and gender systems, has been used to confine women within domestic boundaries and to justify their subordination. Scholars such as Uma Chakravarti and Nivedita Menon argue that patriarchal religion transforms women into carriers of community honour and moral virtue, regulating their sexuality and labour through religious codes.


Post-independence literature, particularly by Indian English dramatists and filmmakers, reflects an increasing concern with this tension between spiritual idealism and gender injustice. In both Final Solutions and The Great Indian Kitchen, religion becomes a performative social mechanism a ritualized practice that masks domination as devotion.


In Final Solutions, Aruna’s obsession with purity, reflected in her insistence on “washing the pooja thali thrice” or avoiding physical contact with Muslim neighbours, demonstrates how religion structures everyday behaviour. Her religiosity is not personal faith but a culturally imposed discipline that maintains patriarchal order.


In The Great Indian Kitchen, Jeo Baby translates this control into visual language: the camera lingers on the wife’s hands as she washes dishes, grinds spices, and scrubs floors acts that appear sacred but symbolize servitude. Through these portrayals, both creators expose how religion, rather than liberating, perpetuates patriarchal domestication under the guise of righteousness.



4. Mahesh Dattani’s Final Solutions: Religion and Gender in Communal Space


Mahesh Dattani’s Final Solutions remains one of the most powerful explorations of communal identity and gendered consciousness in Indian drama. The play interweaves public and private histories, showing how religious intolerance and patriarchal hierarchy coexist within the same social framework.


4.1. Women as Mediators and Mirrors of Prejudice

The three central female figures Hardika (Daksha), Aruna, and Smita represent generational shifts in Indian womanhood. Hardika’s memories of Partition expose how trauma becomes inherited prejudice; she confesses, “We had to leave everything because of them [Muslims].” Aruna, her daughter-in-law, embodies ritualistic religiosity strict in observance but blind to empathy. Smita, however, challenges these inherited notions: her friendship with Javed and Bobby, both Muslims, forces her to confront the moral emptiness behind religious discrimination.


4.2. The Home as a Political Space

Dattani turns the domestic setting into a microcosm of national identity. The house’s physical divisions the drawing room, prayer room, and terrace symbolize India’s divided conscience. The communal violence outside echoes the moral divisions inside, where the walls separate generations, genders, and religions.


Aruna’s prayer rituals are juxtaposed with her inability to show compassion; her spiritual piety does not translate into ethical humanity. The play suggests that patriarchy hides behind ritual, and that women like Aruna unconsciously perpetuate the same system that oppresses them.


4.3. Female Resistance and Reconciliation

Despite internalized patriarchy, women also embody the potential for healing. Hardika’s confession and Smita’s empathy bring catharsis to the narrative. Dattani avoids offering simplistic “final solutions,” instead emphasizing dialogue and compassion. The female voices, particularly Smita’s, initiate reconciliation between faiths and generations. Through her, Dattani aligns feminine empathy with postcolonial recovery, echoing Gayatri Spivak’s idea that the subaltern can “speak” only when empathy replaces hierarchy.


5. Jeo Baby’s The Great Indian Kitchen: Domestic Space as Religious Discipline


Jeo Baby’s The Great Indian Kitchen exposes patriarchy not through loud dialogue but through repetition, sound, and silence. The film unfolds almost wordlessly, relying on montage sequences of domestic labour chopping vegetables, serving food, cleaning utensils that gradually become instruments of entrapment.


5.1. Domesticity as Discipline

The protagonist’s daily routine reflects Michel Foucault’s idea of disciplinary power the regulation of the body through minute, repetitive actions. Each ritual reinforces submission. Her husband, who lectures on morality, never helps in household work, embodying what feminist theorist Silvia Federici calls the “invisible labour” of women that sustains capitalism and patriarchy alike.


Religion sanctifies this discipline. Scenes of temple visits and menstruation taboos reveal how spirituality is weaponized to control women’s bodies. As one critic from The Hindu notes, “the kitchen becomes a temple, but a temple where only the woman is the priest and the prisoner.”


5.2. The Aesthetics of Repetition and Revolt


Cinematically, the film’s use of sound—the rhythmic chopping, clattering of dishes, dripping of water creates a sense of suffocation.  The turning point arrives when the wife, after enduring humiliation during menstruation, refuses to serve food and leaves. Her act of departure, devoid of confrontation, becomes an existential rebellion.


5.3. Resistance through Absence

Unlike conventional cinematic protests, Jeo Baby frames resistance as withdrawal. The woman’s silence and physical absence speak louder than any argument. Judith Butler’s notion of performative resistance helps interpret this gesture: by refusing to perform her gendered duties, the wife destabilizes the very norms that define her. Her rebellion echoes Spivak’s subaltern assertion not through speech, but through action that disrupts the system’s continuity.


6. Silence, Speech, and Resistance


In both Dattani’s and Baby’s works, silence becomes an ambiguous but powerful tool. Traditionally, silence has been viewed as a mark of women’s subjugation; however, feminist theory redefines it as a strategy of endurance and protest.


6.1. Silence as Subjugation

In Final Solutions, Aruna’s silence during her husband’s discussions and Hardika’s hesitance to share her trauma reflect generations of silenced women. They are shaped by social decorum “good women do not argue.” Similarly, in The Great Indian Kitchen, the wife’s silence at the beginning signifies internalized obedience.


6.2. Silence as Rebellion

Yet, by the end, silence transforms into defiance. Smita’s refusal to perform communal prejudice and the wife’s refusal to serve food both illustrate what postcolonial critic Leela Gandhi calls “ethical resistance” an act of quiet non-cooperation that questions power without replicating violence.


Gayatri Spivak’s question, “Can the subaltern speak?” finds its cinematic answer here: even when women do not speak in language, their actions articulate resistance in the grammar of the body. Dattani’s dialogue and Baby’s silence converge to reveal that resistance is not always loud it can also be the silence of refusal, the absence of compliance.


7. Intersectionality of Gender, Class, and Religion


Feminist scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw’s concept of intersectionality (1989) emphasizes that women’s oppression cannot be understood by isolating gender from other structures like class, caste, and religion. This framework is crucial to both texts.

In Final Solutions, communal identity intersects with gender: Hindu and Muslim women alike inherit patriarchal expectations shaped by religious difference. Smita, a modern educated woman, faces pressure to conform to her mother’s orthodoxy, while Javed’s sister, though unseen, is mentioned as a victim of similar control within her own faith community.

In The Great Indian Kitchen, class compounds gender oppression. The protagonist’s in-laws hire a maid from a lower caste who performs the dirtiest tasks. The contrast between the upper-caste wife and the lower-class servant reveals what Mohanty describes as the “hierarchies among women” within patriarchy. The film subtly exposes how upper-caste women are both victims and enforcers of a system that privileges ritual purity over human dignity.

The obsession with purity in upper-caste homes is not merely about hygiene; it is about preserving social hierarchy through women’s bodies.” Both Dattani and Jeo Baby transform this critique into art: by linking religious orthodoxy with class-based control, they reveal how deeply patriarchy is woven into India’s socio-religious fabric.


8. Acts of Liberation and Possibility of Change


Resistance in both texts culminates in acts of liberation that redefine the feminine self beyond victimhood. Yet, these acts do not promise utopia; they reveal small ruptures in the social order that make change possible.


In Final Solutions, reconciliation begins when Smita insists that the Muslim boys, Javed and Bobby, should be treated not as “others” but as “human beings.” Her declaration “I don’t want to be like you, Ma” is not an act of rebellion against faith but against blind faith. Feminist critic “the emergence of individual morality over communal identity”. Smita’s courage lies in her ability to love and empathize across boundaries, an emotional revolution that destabilizes both patriarchy and communalism.


In The Great Indian Kitchen, liberation takes the form of departure. The protagonist, after enduring endless chores and ritual humiliation, quietly leaves the house, symbolically leaving behind generations of conditioned obedience. Her final appearance teaching dance her passion represents freedom reclaimed through movement. The film closes with her refusal to return, transforming exit into assertion.


Philosophically, both endings align with Judith Butler’s concept of agency within subjection: women act not outside systems of power but by reconfiguring them. Smita’s dialogue and the unnamed wife’s silence both perform the same function they create moral disruption. Change, therefore, begins in consciousness, not revolution; in refusal, not in confrontation.


09. Contemporary Relevance and Media Parallels


The significance of Final Solutions and The Great Indian Kitchen extends beyond their literary and cinematic boundaries; both works anticipate the realities of contemporary India, where communal politics and patriarchal traditions continue to shape public discourse.


In an age of social media activism and digital feminism, Jeo Baby’s film has gained renewed relevance as a visual protest against unpaid domestic labour and caste purity. Campaigns like #MeTooIndia and #ShareTheLoad resonate with the film’s call for gender equality in domestic spaces. Similarly, Dattani’s portrayal of communal prejudice anticipates the polarised narratives of religion and identity visible in modern political discourse.

Contemporary OTT series such as Made in Heaven (2019) and Mrs. (2024) a Hindi adaptation of The Great Indian Kitchen continue this trajectory. Mrs. recontextualizes the same narrative for North Indian audiences, reaffirming the timelessness of women’s struggles against patriarchal sanctity. The adaptation demonstrates how feminist art crosses linguistic and regional boundaries, turning literature and cinema into forms of cultural resistance.

The continued popularity of such narratives confirms that feminist-postcolonial readings remain essential in understanding India’s socio-cultural evolution. As scholar Sharmila Rege notes in Writing Caste/Writing Gender (2006), “to question religion is not to abandon faith but to reclaim justice within it.” Both Dattani and Jeo Baby embody this ethical stance challenging systems without erasing their cultural roots.


10. Conclusion


The comparative study of Final Solutions and The Great Indian Kitchen reveals a shared vision of resistance that transcends genre and medium. Both works expose how religion, when interpreted through patriarchal structures, becomes an instrument of female subjugation. Yet, they also show that within these oppressive frameworks lie seeds of transformation.

Dattani’s theatre foregrounds the dialogue of conscience, while Jeo Baby’s cinema performs the politics of silence. One seeks reconciliation; the other, liberation. Both portray women who awaken to the realization that faith without equality is hollow, and that resistance whether through empathy or absence redefines womanhood beyond ritualized servitude.

Through feminist and postcolonial lenses, these works invite readers and viewers to rethink not only gender roles but also the ethics of belief and tradition. The women of Dattani and Jeo Baby become metaphors for India itself struggling between inherited piety and the pursuit of freedom. Their journeys affirm that the act of questioning is itself sacred, and that in every gesture of defiance lies the promise of a more humane faith.


Word Count : 3030

Images: 7



Works Cited 

Baby, Jeo, director. The Great Indian Kitchen. Mankind Cinemas; Symmetry Cinemas; Cinema Cooks; Neestream, 2021. Film.

Beauvoir, Simone de. The Second Sex. Vintage Books, 2011.

Butler, Judith. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. Routledge, 1990.

Chakravarti, Uma. Gendering Caste: Through a Feminist Lens. Stree, 2003.

Federici, Silvia. Caliban and the Witch: Women, the Body, and Primitive Accumulation. Autonomedia, 2004.

Gandhi, Leela. Postcolonial Theory: A Critical Introduction. Oxford University Press, 1998.

Kadav, Arati, director. Mrs. Baweja Studios; Jio Studios; ZEE5, 2025. Film.

Menon, Nivedita. Seeing Like a Feminist. Zubaan, 2012.

Mohanty, Chandra Talpade. “Under Western Eyes Revisited.” Duke University Press, Dec. 2007, www2.kobe-u.ac.jp/~alexroni/IPD%202015%20readings/IPD%202015_5/Under%20western%20Eyes%20revisited.pdf. Accessed 7 Nov. 2025.

Rege, Sharmila. Writing Caste/Writing Gender: Narrating Dalit Women’s Testimonies. Zubaan, 2006.

Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. “Can the Subaltern Speak?” Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture, edited by Cary Nelson and Lawrence Grossberg, University of Illinois Press, 1988, pp. 271–313.

Monday, November 3, 2025

201: Reimagining the Epic: Subalternity and the Politics of Voice in T. P. Kailasam’s The Curse or Karna and Modern Retellings of the Mahabharata

 

Reimagining the Epic: Subalternity and the Politics of Voice in T. P. Kailasam’s The Curse or Karna and Modern Retellings of the Mahabharata


Assignment of Paper 201: Indian English Literature – Pre-Independence

Academic Details

  • Name: Krupali Belam
  • Roll No : 13
  • Enrollment No : 5108240007
  • Semester: 3
  • Batch: 2024–26
  • Email: krupalibelam1204@gmail.com


Assignment Details

  • Paper Name: Indian English Literature – Pre-Independence
  • Paper No.: 201
  • Paper Code: 22401
  • Topic: Reimagining the Epic: Subalternity and the Politics of Voice in T. P. Kailasam’s The Curse or Karna and Modern Retellings of the Mahabharata
  • Submitted To: Smt. Sujata Binoy Gardi, Department of English, Maharaja Krishnakumarsinhji Bhavnagar University

  • Submission Date: 7 November 2025 


Abstract

This paper explores the re-imagination of the Mahabharata through the figure of Karna a character who embodies the paradox of virtue and marginalization in T. P. Kailasam’s play The Curse or Karna (1929) and in contemporary retellings such as Kavita Kane’s Karna’s Wife: The Outcast’s Queen and Anand Neelakantan’s Rise of Kali. Drawing upon Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak’s seminal question, “Can the Subaltern Speak?”, and Ranajit Guha’s Subaltern Studies, the paper analyzes how mythic retellings become spaces of counter-discourse, giving agency to silenced voices. The study applies Subaltern Theory and Myth Criticism (Peter Struck, Roland Barthes) to examine how authors reinterpret traditional hierarchies of caste, gender, and heroism. Kailasam’s play is positioned as an early articulation of subaltern consciousness in Indian English drama, while modern retellings democratize the epic through feminist and Dalit perspectives. Through comparative analysis, the paper argues that Karna’s evolving representations signify the transformation of myth into a voice of ethical resistance a means through which the excluded reclaims the power to narrate.


Keywords

Subalternity | Myth Rewriting | Postcolonial Drama | Kailasam | Karna | Feminism | Caste | Indian English Literature


Research Question

How do T. P. Kailasam’s The Curse or Karna and modern retellings of the Mahabharata reinterpret the myth from subaltern perspectives, transforming Karna’s silence into a form of political and ethical resistance?


Hypothesis

Kailasam and later writers such as Kane and Neelakantan reimagine Karna not as a passive victim of fate but as a symbol of subaltern resilience, exposing caste and gender hierarchies embedded in classical mythology. By giving speech to marginalized characters, these retellings reconstruct the Mahabharata as a discourse of ethical rebellion and social emancipation.


Table of Contents


1. Introduction

2. Theoretical Framework: Subalternity and Myth

 2.1 Subaltern Theory and the Problem of           Representation

 2.2 Re-reading Myth: Symbolism and Cultural   Memory

3. Kailasam’s The Curse or Karna: The Subaltern as Tragic Hero

 3.1 Caste and the Politics of Birth

 3.2 Ethical Voice and Humanist Theatre

4. Modern Retellings: Feminist and Dalit Revisions

 4.1 Kavita Kane’s Karna’s Wife and the Gendered Subaltern

 4.2 Anand Neelakantan’s Rise of Kali and the Dalit Voice

5. Voice, Silence, and the Politics of Representation

6. Contemporary Resonance: Myth, Cinema, and the Subaltern Today

7. Conclusion

Works Cited


1. Introduction

The Mahabharata has been described by A. K. Ramanujan as a “collective archive of Indian consciousness” a story that India tells itself repeatedly to understand moral ambiguity, social order, and cosmic justice. Yet, within this monumental text lies a silence   the silence of those denied the right to define their own virtue. Among these figures, Karna stands as the most haunting: a hero of great skill and integrity, yet condemned by the accident of birth to a life of humiliation and moral solitude.

In T. P. Kailasam’s The Curse or Karna (1929), this ancient silence is broken. Kailasam reclaims the epic from divine determinism, transforming it into a drama of human conscience. Karna’s tragedy ceases to be about destiny; it becomes about society’s refusal to hear those who do not belong. Written during late colonial India, the play mirrors the condition of a nation subjugated by empire and internally divided by caste. As 

Modern retellings such as Kavita Kane’s Karna’s Wife: The Outcast’s Queen (2013) and Anand Neelakantan’s Rise of Kali (2015) extend Kailasam’s humanist project into the postcolonial and feminist age. Through Urvi’s perspective, Kane gives voice to the silenced woman in the epic, while Neelakantan’s narrative reclaims the so-called villains as victims of Brahmanical power. Each author performs what Spivak calls “strategic essentialism”  the act of re-centering the marginalized in order to challenge dominant structures (Spivak).

This paper thus argues that reimagining the epic becomes a political act. From Kailasam’s colonial stage to Neelakantan’s populist novel and Mari Selvaraj’s film Karnan (2021), Karna’s story has evolved into a metaphor for India’s subaltern self. Each version transforms myth into a tool of ethical reparation, enabling the silenced to speak, the excluded to be seen, and the mythic to merge with the modern.


2. Theoretical Framework: Subalternity and Myth


2.1 Subaltern Theory and the Problem of Representation

The term subaltern was first used by Antonio Gramsci to describe groups excluded from hegemonic power structures. In postcolonial discourse, the Subaltern Studies Collective, led by Ranajit Guha, extended this idea to colonial India, emphasizing the recovery of voices suppressed by both imperial and nationalist elites. As Guha writes, the subaltern is defined by “the general attribute of subordination, whether in terms of class, caste, gender, or office”.

Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak’s essay Can the Subaltern Speak? (1988) radicalized this discourse by questioning whether the marginalized can ever truly articulate themselves within dominant epistemologies. Spivak famously concludes, “The subaltern cannot speak,” not because they are voiceless, but because their speech is constantly appropriated by structures of representation (Spivak). This notion of epistemic violence  where knowledge itself silences  becomes crucial in understanding how characters like Karna, though eloquent, are historically unheard.

As Kajal Kapoor notes in her study Karna: The Voice of the Subaltern, “Karna’s silence is not ignorance but protest. His dignity lies in endurance, not submission” (Kapoor 75). Kailasam’s dramatic retelling grants this silence an ethical resonance: Karna becomes the conscience of a civilization that worships virtue but denies equality.

Subaltern theory also illuminates the gendered dimension of mythic marginality. Women like Kunti and Urvi inhabit spaces of emotional and moral invisibility. By rewriting their narratives, modern authors enact what Spivak calls “a persistent translation of silence into speech.” Feminist mythography, therefore, becomes a continuation of Subaltern Studies through literary form.


2.2 Re-reading Myth: Symbolism and Cultural Memory


Myth, as Roland Barthes argued in Mythologies, is “a type of speech chosen by history.” It transforms complex realities into naturalized narratives that reinforce cultural hierarchies. To challenge a myth, therefore, is to deconstruct ideology. Peter Struck similarly observes that myths “survive by being retold; each retelling is an act of interpretation” (Birth of the Symbol).

In India, myths like the Mahabharata function not as static scripture but as cultural memory a dynamic archive through which moral and social values are contested. A. K. Ramanujan reminds us that “there is no single Mahabharata, but many Mahabharatas.” This multiplicity allows writers like Kailasam to humanize the divine and modern novelists to democratize the epic.

In Kailasam’s hands, myth becomes ethical theatre: Karna’s struggle mirrors the colonial subject’s double consciousness  torn between inherited duty and moral freedom. As Dwivedi explains, “Kailasam’s re-visioning of epic myths constitutes a decolonial pedagogy, teaching Indians to see themselves beyond divine hierarchies” (Dwivedi).

Modern retellings similarly mobilize myth as counter-discourse. Kane transforms the epic into gendered introspection, while Neelakantan reclaims it as Dalit protest. The epic’s elasticity its capacity to contain contradiction is what allows it to become, in postcolonial India, a text of resistance.


3. Kailasam’s The Curse or Karna: The Subaltern as Tragic Hero


T. P. Kailasam’s The Curse or Karna occupies a significant position in Indian English drama as an early example of modern mythic humanism. Written during the colonial era, it reinterprets the Mahabharata’s moral universe through a lens of ethical introspection. Unlike traditional Sanskrit dramatists who glorified divine will, Kailasam emphasized psychological realism and human conscience, marking a decisive shift from epic idealism to social critique.

As A. N. Dwivedi observes, “Kailasam’s characters are not gods speaking to mortals, but mortals questioning the gods within themselves” (Indian Drama in English). The play’s central character, Karna, becomes a symbolic figure of subaltern suffering  his life defined not by moral failure but by the social injustice of birth. His illegitimacy, rather than his actions, dictates his fate. Kailasam’s dramatic irony lies in the fact that the most virtuous man in the epic is the one society refuses to acknowledge.


3.1 Caste and the Politics of Birth

Kailasam’s Karna embodies what Guha terms the “general attribute of subordination” (Guha). The hero’s exclusion from the Kshatriya hierarchy mirrors the social dynamics of caste-based oppression. In one poignant moment, when Drona rejects him, Karna replies, “A man’s deeds, not his birth, should make him noble.” This defiant moral vision directly challenges the Brahmanical ideology embedded in the epic.

Kajal Kapoor reads this as “Kailasam’s attempt to restore human dignity against inherited privilege” (Kapoor 77). The playwright thus converts the myth into a moral allegory of colonial India, where virtue and merit were subordinated to imperial and caste hierarchies. By elevating Karna’s voice, Kailasam not only critiques religious orthodoxy but also questions the nationalist elite’s neglect of India’s marginalized.

The subaltern tragedy of Karna arises from his awareness of injustice. Unlike Oedipus or Macbeth, who fall through moral error, Karna’s downfall results from systemic exclusion. His silence  dignified yet painful  becomes a metaphor for what Spivak calls the “epistemic violence” of power structures that deny the marginalized the right to speak (Spivak).


3.2 Ethical Voice and Humanist Theatre

Kailasam’s theatre is profoundly humanist. He transforms the divine epic into a moral dialogue between fate and free will. Karna’s loyalty to Duryodhana, despite moral conflict, is not weakness but ethical steadfastness a refusal to abandon friendship for social gain. This moral courage aligns him with what Spivak calls “the subject of ethical responsibility”  one who resists power by affirming humanity (Spivak).

In this sense, The Curse or Karna becomes more than mythic retelling; it is a drama of conscience that anticipates postcolonial self-assertion. Through Karna, the playwright creates India’s first subaltern hero  a voice of ethical protest within the confines of tradition.


4. Modern Retellings: Feminist and Dalit Revisions


4.1 Kavita Kane’s Karna’s Wife and the Gendered Subaltern

Kavita Kane’s Karna’s Wife: The Outcast’s Queen (2013) offers a transformative feminist reading of the Mahabharata. By narrating the story from Urvi’s perspective, Kane not only humanizes Karna but also reclaims the silenced female voice. Urvi, a marginal character in Vyasa’s version, becomes the lens through which readers witness the emotional and moral landscape of the epic.

As Nirja Tomar and Deepika Dhand observe, “Urvi’s articulation redefines the moral core of the epic by shifting empathy from power to vulnerability” (ShodhKosh). Kane uses Urvi’s interior monologue to critique patriarchal norms that sanctify male heroism while erasing female subjectivity. The novel’s narrative intimacy transforms mythic grandeur into psychological realism, similar to Kailasam’s theatrical approach.

Kane’s portrayal of Urvi also engages Spivak’s question, “Can the subaltern woman speak?” By giving Urvi narrative control, Kane performs what Spivak describes as “strategic essentialism” a reclaiming of voice for representational justice. Urvi becomes the emotional conscience of the epic, her suffering mirroring that of Karna. Through her, Kane foregrounds gendered subalternity as a site of resistance against both patriarchy and mythic fatalism.


4.2 Anand Neelakantan’s Rise of Kali and the Dalit Voice


In Rise of Kali (2015), Anand Neelakantan reconfigures the Mahabharata as a people’s history. His reinterpretation of the Kauravas as ethical rebels and the Pandavas as privileged elites reverses the moral hierarchy of the original epic. “History,” Neelakantan writes, “is always written by the victors; I write for the defeated.”

According to Aayushi Sangharshee and Jatinder Kohli, “Neelakantan’s retelling performs the political work of Subaltern Studies in narrative form” (The Creative Launcher). His depiction of Karna aligns with Ambedkarite thought  merit crushed by caste and moral worth denied by birth. The novel thus transforms myth into a Dalit allegory, where Karna’s humiliation reflects centuries of structural injustice.

Neelakantan democratizes mythic language by replacing Sanskritized idiom with earthy colloquialism, allowing marginalized voices to sound authentic. Like Kailasam’s play, Rise of Kali is not about divine destiny but human struggle for dignity. The narrative thereby restores the ethical dimension of the epic, bridging ancient injustice with modern resistance.


5. Voice, Silence, and the Politics of Representation


The question of who speaks and who is heard  remains central to both Kailasam’s and modern reimaginings. Spivak’s critique that “the subaltern cannot speak” implies that even when marginalized figures attempt to articulate themselves, their speech is often mediated by dominant discourse. Kailasam addresses this by giving Karna monologic introspection, a form of inward speech that bypasses social hierarchy. Kane and Neelakantan externalize this process: Urvi and Karna speak through narrative control.



By aligning mythic silence with social exclusion, these writers transform literature into ethical historiography. As Barthes suggests, myth becomes revolutionary “when it exposes its own artifice” (Mythologies). In confronting the structures that mute certain voices, Kailasam and his successors reclaim myth as a stage where history’s absences finally speak.


6. Contemporary Resonance: Myth, Cinema, and the Subaltern Today


The persistence of Karna’s myth in the 21st century reveals its adaptability to new cultural forms. Mari Selvaraj’s Tamil film Karnan (2021) reimagines Karna as a Dalit hero in a modern agrarian setting. As critics in Rupkatha Journal observe, the film “translates the Mahabharata’s moral allegory into a visual politics of caste resistance.” The film’s imagery  shattered idols, burning buses, and muted drums  symbolizes the subaltern’s awakening.

Such reinterpretations affirm what Arjun Appadurai calls “the production of locality”: mythic forms adapt to express modern injustices (Modernity at Large). The enduring appeal of Karna lies in his moral universality  he embodies every voice that has been wronged yet refuses bitterness.

Modern readers find in Karna not tragedy but dignified rebellion. His silence, once a mark of defeat, becomes a language of moral authority. The myth, continually retold, functions as collective therapy for a nation still confronting caste, gender, and class inequities. As Dwivedi remarks, “Each retelling of Karna is an act of social self-recognition; India sees in him its wounded humanity” (Dwivedi).


7. Conclusion

Rewriting the Mahabharata through subaltern and feminist consciousness transforms India’s most sacred epic into an instrument of moral reparation. From Kailasam’s colonial stage to Kane’s feminist narrative and Neelakantan’s Dalit epic, Karna’s evolution reflects the decolonization of myth. Each version translates silence into speech, myth into ethics, and tragedy into protest.

Kailasam’s The Curse or Karna remains foundational because it initiated this process  transforming divine determinism into human responsibility. Later retellings extend his vision, proving that the epic’s true immortality lies not in its gods but in its capacity for empathy.

In reclaiming Karna, Indian writers and filmmakers reclaim the right to interpret themselves. Myth becomes not a story of fate but a language of freedom.


Word Count:2780

Images : 5 

Works Cited 

Appadurai, Arjun. “Modernity at Large - Mtu Sociology.” Mtusociolog, mtusociology.github.io/assets/files/%5BArjun_Appadurai%5D_Modernity_at_Large_Cultural_Dim(Bookos.org).pdf. Accessed 7 Nov. 2025.

Barthes, Roland. Mythologies. Hill and Wang, 1972.

Bhabha, Homi K. The Location of Culture. Routledge, 1994.

Dwivedi, A. N. Indian Drama in English. Routledge, 2019

Kailasam, T. P. The Curse or Karna. Bangalore Press, 1929.

Kane, Kavita. Karna’s Wife: The Outcast’s Queen. Rupa Publications, 2013.

Kapoor, Kajal. “Karna (the Unsung Hero of Mahabharata: The Voice of the Subaltern).” International Journal of Linguistics, Literature and Culture, 4 Nov. 2016, sloap.org/journals/index.php/ijllc/article/view/132.

Neelakantan, Anand. Rise of Kali: Duryodhana’s Mahabharata. Leadstart Publishing, 2015.

Porter, James I. “Struck (P. T.) Birth of the Symbol. Ancient Readers at the Limits of Their Texts. Pp. XIV + 316. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2004. Cased, £26.95. ISBN: 978-0-691-11697-6.” The Classical Review, 1 Jan. 2007, www.academia.edu/18415507/Struck_P_T_Birth_of_the_Symbol_Ancient_Readers_at_the_Limits_of_their_Texts_Pp_xiv_316_Princeton_and_Oxford_Princeton_University_Press_2004_Cased_26_95_ISBN_978_0_691_11697_6.

Ramanujan, A. K. “Three Hundred Ramayans.” SabrangIndia, 30 Dec. 2023, sabrangindia.in/three-hundred-ramayans/.

Sangharshee, Aayushi Aayushi, and Jatinder Kaur Kohli. “The Rise of the Marginalised: Subaltern Theory and Modern Reimagining of the Mahabharata.” The Creative Launcher, Oct. 2025, www.thecreativelauncher.com/index.php/tcl/article/view/1353.

Selvaraj, Mari, director. Karnan. V Creations, 2021. Film.

Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. “2015.99309.Selected-Subaltern-Studies.Pdf.” Edited by Guha Ranajit, Archive.Org, ia601403.us.archive.org/7/items/in.ernet.dli.2015.99309/2015.99309.Selected-Subaltern-Studies.pdf. Accessed 7 Nov. 2025.

Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. “Can the Subaltern Speak?” Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture, edited by Cary Nelson and Lawrence Grossberg, University of Illinois Press, 1988, pp. 271–313.

Tomar, Ms. Nirja, and Deepika Dhand. “The Virtuous Voices in Modern Mythical Narratives: A Study of Kavita Kane’s Karna’s Wife – the Outcast’s Queen.” ShodhKosh: Journal of Visual and Performing Arts, www.granthaalayahpublication.org/Arts-Journal/ShodhKosh/article/view/3600. Accessed 7 Nov. 2025.






208: Cultural Untranslatability and the Ethics of Translation: A Reading of A.K. Ramanujan in Dialogue with Niranjana, Devy, and Venuti

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