A Self-Defeating Attachment to Youthfulness: Illindala Saraswati Devi’s Short Story, The Need for Sympathy

The preservation of youth is among the primary fixations of society today. We employ various techniques to get rid of the lines and creases that define our lived experiences, creating a deep sense of anxiety and inadequacy in the process. Unfortunate as it is, this obsession is not new. Illindala Saraswati Devi (1918 - 1998), a Telugu writer and social worker, wrote about this particular issue long before it began dominating our media channels.

Illindala Saraswati Devi grew up in Andhra Pradesh without the education or training to write high-brow literature. Using the colloquial dialect, she constructed some stories but was criticised by her husband for her non-literary tone and style. Once her children grew up, she educated herself by enrolling in a journalism course at Osmania University and steadily gained the confidence to publish her pieces. A conscientious reader, Saraswati Devi claimed that for every story she wrote, she read at least a hundred. Her efforts culminated in many awards and honours, including the prestigious Sahitya Akademi Award in 1982.

In her short story “The Need for Sympathy”, she narrates the story of Bangaramma who struggles to reconcile the loss of her youth and the newly bestowed status of a grandmother. The story begins with a train journey where Bangaramma is on her way to join the first birthday celebrations of her grandson. She encounters several passengers who, fooled by her appearance, assume her to be younger than her years. She is both pleased and unsettled by their comments, reluctant to give away any details about her daughter or grandson, that might reveal her real age.

Without raising her head, she looked at her own body. She was firm and taut like a full-blown bicycle tire. Her complexion blended perfectly with the gold bangles round her wrists. She definitely looked much younger than her age. Suddenly she remembered with a sharp thrill of joy the conversation she had overheard. Without betraying her emotion she turned and looked out the window.

Once she arrives at her daughter’s house, she is troubled by the sight of her grandson and struggles to muster affection for him. Misinterpreting her brooding silence, Bangaramma’s daughter invites her to stay with them permanently so she doesn’t feel lonely. Her mood further lightens during the birthday party when guests comment on her youthful appearance.

In a turn of events, the grandson falls gravely ill right after the birthday party, and Bangaramma transforms into a doting caretaker, fretting about the health of the child and her daughter. As the grandson begins to recover and call out to her, a strange anxiety grips her heart.

Every time the boy called out “Grandma” she felt that the sound had the power to destroy her strength and her youth. Many things began to trouble her. It was as if her firm body had suddenly shrunk. Were wrinkles appearing on her smooth skin, and gnarled veins jutting out of her arms? Were her cheeks growing hollow? Her strong clean teeth falling out? Was her black, gleaming hair turning a little gray? Was her straight spine slowly bending?

She decides to leave her daughter’s house with the following note:

Dear Daughter,

I didn’t want to disturb your sleep. So I am leaving without telling you. I have grown weary of the bonds of the family. For a long time now I have been thinking of serving as a nurse in a hospital. I don’t have to execute a separate will and testament. Your son will inherit all my property.

Bangaramma

On reading this letter, the daughter turns to her husband and says, “Really, my mother has no courage at all.” This open ended departure leaves us wondering if Bangaramma escapes the trappings of old age on a flimsy pretext or genuinely embarks on a spiritual journey of service and detachment. We can only guess her true intent, but the story leaves us pondering our own existence, and warning against an excessive and self-defeating attachment to our appearance.

Translation by Adapa Ramakrishna Rao