An introduction by kamala das summary.

Kamala Das 

An introduction by Kamala Das summary

"An Introduction" is a confessional poem by Kamala Das, one of India's most prominent feminist poets. The poem, included in her collection Summer in Calcutta (1965), explores themes of identity, gender roles, language, and personal freedom.

Summary & Themes:

The speaker introduces herself as an Indian woman who refuses to be confined by societal expectations.

She asserts her right to speak any language, rejecting the idea that English belongs only to the elite.

The poem discusses patriarchy and gender roles, emphasizing how women are expected to conform to societal norms, especially in marriage and relationships.

She expresses her desire for self-expression and individuality, questioning rigid gender definitions and celebrating personal freedom.

Famous Lines:

"I am Indian, very brown, born in Malabar, I speak three languages, write in two, dream in one."

Conclusion:

"An Introduction" is a powerful feminist poem where Kamala Das reclaims her identity, challenges traditional gender roles, and asserts her right to live and love freely. It remains one of her most celebrated works in Indian English literature.

An Introduction

By Kamala Das

I don’t know politics but I know the names

Of those in power, and can repeat them like

Days of week, or names of months, beginning with Nehru.

I am Indian, very brown, born in Malabar,

I speak three languages, write in two, dream in one.

Don’t write in English, they said,

English is not your mother-tongue.

Why not leave me alone, critics, friends, visiting cousins,

Every one of you? Why not let me speak in

Any language I like? The language I speak,

Becomes mine, its distortions, its queernesses

All mine, mine alone. It is half English, half Indian,

Funny perhaps, but it is honest,

It is as human as I am human,

Don’t you see? It voices my joys, my longings,

My hopes, and it is useful to me as cawing

Is to crows or roaring to the lions,

It is human speech, the speech of the mind that is here and not there,

A mind that sees and hears and is aware.

Not the deaf, blind speech

Of trees in storm or of monsoon clouds or of rain or the incoherent mutterings of the blazing funeral pyre.

I was child, and later they

Told me I grew, for I became tall, my limbs

Swelled and one or two places sprouted hair.

When I asked for love, not knowing what else to ask for,

He drew a youth of sixteen into the bedroom and closed the door.

He did not beat me

But my sad woman-body felt so beaten.

The weight of my breasts and womb crushed me.

I shrank pitifully.

Then… I wore a shirt and my

Brother’s trousers, cut my hair short and ignored

My womanliness. Dress in sarees, be girl, be wife, they said.

Be embroiderer, be cook, be a quarreller with servants.

Fit in. Oh, belong, cried the categorizers.

Don’t sit on walls or peep in through our lace-draped windows.

Be Amy, or be Kamala. Or, better

Still, be Madhavikutty. It is time to choose a name, a role.

Don’t play pretending games.

Don’t play at schizophrenia or be a Nympho.

Don’t cry embarrassingly loud when jilted in love…

I met a man, loved him. Call

Him not by any name, he is every man

Who wants a woman, just as I am every

Woman who seeks love. In him… the hungry haste

Of rivers, in me… the oceans' tireless waiting.

Who are you, I ask each and everyone,

The answer is, it is I. Anywhere and,

Everywhere, I see the one who calls himself I.

In this world, he is tightly packed like the sword in its sheath.

It is I who drink lonely drinks at twelve, midnight, in hotels of strange towns,

It is I who laugh, it is I who make love and then feel shame,

It is I who lie dying with a rattle in my throat.

I am sinner, I am saint.

I am the beloved and the betrayed.

I have no joys that are not yours, no

Aches which are not yours.

I too call myself I.

This poem is a deeply personal yet universal statement of identity, gender roles, and resistance. Let me know if you need an analysis or explanation!