Regional Utopian Impulses in Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi https://doi.org /10.5281/zen od o.14978906

Regional Utopian Impulses in Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi
https://doi.org /10.5281/zen od o.14978906

Author(s): Purnojit Haldar

DOI: https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.14978906

PDF: Download Full Text

Volume 16 | Issue 1 | Feb 2025

Pages: 697-716

AboutUs: https://www.the-criterion.com/about/

Archive: https://www.the-criterion.com/archive/

ContactUs: https://www.the-criterion.com/contact/

EditorialBoard: https://www.the-criterion.com/editorial-board/

Submission: https://www.the-criterion.com/submission/

FAQ: https://www.the-criterion.com/fa/

ISSN 2278‐9529
Galaxy: International Multidisciplinary Research Journal
www.galaxyimrj.com

The Criterion: An International Journal in English Vol. 16, Issue-I, February 2025 ISSN: 0976-8165
www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
Regional Utopian Impulses in Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak
and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi
Purnojit Haldar
Assistant Professor in English,
Pakuahat Degree College, Malda, West Bengal.
Ph. D Scholar,
Department of English,
Jadavpur University, Kolkata, West Bengal.
Article History: Submitted‐05/02/2025, Revised‐11/02/2025, Accepted‐24/02/2025, Published‐28/02/2025.
Abstract:
This article draws on theories of utopia, distinguishing between concepts of utopian
expressions and the specific idea of utopia as an idealized space. This article argues that the
concept of utopianism has led to the emergence of new areas in postcolonial studies. The
term utopia traditionally signifies either a ‘good place’ or ‘no place,’ representing an idealized
society characterized by harmony, equitable distribution of resources, balanced labour and
knowledge systems. In postcolonial studies, utopia extends beyond economic and cultural
equity to encompass alternative visions of communitarian living, often in response to the
disruptions of colonial and global transformations. In this context, regional literature serves
as a crucial site for exploring the utopian aspirations of marginalized communities,
challenging and redefining the colonial and postcolonial structures of the nation-state. This
article examines Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak (Of the Forest) and Tarashankar
Bandyopadhyay’s Hansuli Banker Upokotha (The Tale of Hansuli Turn) and Kalindi as
literary expressions of the utopian impulses of marginalized communities confronting the
onslaught of colonial modernity and displacement between the 1920s and 1940s in India.
697
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.14978906

Regional Utopian Impulses in Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The
Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi
www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
Keywords: Postcolonial, utopia, utopianism, colonial modernity, Bengali, regional,
Bibhutibhushan, Tarashankar.

Looking at Utopia and Utopianism: A Postcolonial Reading
“Everybody lives in the future, because they strive.”
— Ernst Bloch, The Principle of Hope

In his article Introduction: Spaces of Utopia, Bill Ashcroft suggests that “the utopian
dimension of postcolonial studies” is “generated by the various utopian visions of pre- and
post-independence writers” (1). Analyzing regional Bengali novels of the colonial period
through a postcolonial lens reveals utopian impulses rooted in regional landscapes and lived
realities. These works explore how coloniality, modernity, and capitalism shape regional
spaces, highlighting marginal subjectivity, subalternity, and the displacement of local
cultures.
This paper first examines the etymological origins of utopia and its relevance within
postcolonial studies. It then situates utopia within the dynamics of regional literature. The
analysis focuses on Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s
Aranyak and Tarashankar
Bandyopadhyay’s The Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi, exploring their postcolonial
interpretations of regional utopian thought. Except for Kalindi, the other novels mentioned
are available in English translation.
Ashcroft, in his essay, remarks that postcolonial literary writings are characterized by
an “irrepressible hope” (1). Postcolonial readings of colonial society by Partha Chatterjee,
Dipesh Chakrabarty, and Ranajit Guha emphasize the significance of Bengal’s regional
dynamics. In The Nation and Its Fragments, Chatterjee examines the fragmented nature of
nationalism; in Provincializing Europe, Chakrabarty critiques Eurocentric historiography;
and in Small Voice of History, Guha explores the overlooked narratives of subaltern groups.
698

The Criterion: An International Journal in English Vol. 16, Issue-I, February 2025 ISSN: 0976-8165

www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
These works demonstrate how the grand narratives of nationalism and colonialism failed to
adequately represent the peripheral spaces of colonial Bengal, which remained caught in the
throes of colonial modernity.
Against this backdrop, this paper examines regional society as mediated through the
fictional works of the Bandyopadhyay duo. The three novels depict rural Bengal with a focus
on specific communities: Aranyak portrays a complex, stratified society comprising caste
Hindus and Adivasis in a forested landscape, The Tale of Hansuli Turn narrates the struggles
of the marginalized Kahar community, and Kalindi recounts the tribal past and the precarious
present of the nomadic Santhal community. Each of these novels presents communities
grappling with disarray, dislocation, and dismay in the face of an encroaching colonial
modernity.
These three novels—Aranyak, The Tale of Hansuli Turn, and Kalindi—explore not
only the theme of displacement but also a shared vision that extends beyond it. They are
deeply rooted in a sense of place, collective memory, and the utopian aspirations of the
communities they portray. Ashcroft underscores the importance of distinguishing between
utopia as an idealized, imagined place and utopianism as an ongoing process of envisioning
alternative possibilities.
The pre-independence utopias of soon-to-be liberated postcolonial nations
provided a very clear focus for anti-colonial activism in British and other
colonies. But this appeared to come to an abrupt halt once the goal of that
activism was reached and the sombre realities of post-independence political
life began to be felt. The postcolonial nation, a once glorious utopian idea, was
now replaced in the literature, particularly in Africa, by a critical rhetoric that
often landed authors in gaol. But gradually, for instance in Africa through
writers such as Ayi Kwei Armah, Ngugi wa Thiong or Ben Okri, and latterly
women writers such as Chimamanda Adiche, Sade Adeniran and Unomah
699

Regional Utopian Impulses in Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The
Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi
www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
Azuah, post-independence despair has been giving way to broader
constructions of future hope. (Ashcroft, “Introduction” 2)
To trace the genealogy of postcolonial utopianism, one must first examine the term
utopia itself and its role in shaping colonial societies within non-Western traditions and
cultures. Thomas More’s concept of utopia, or “no place,” envisioned an ideal society—
whether attainable or not—as “the very embodiment of social aspirations to a perfect
community” (Ashcroft, Utopianism 1). More’s Utopia emerged from his dissatisfaction with
contemporary English society, where “the distribution of work, property, wealth, and basic
subsistence was grossly unequal, and social conditions were deeply unjust” (Ashcroft,
Utopianism 2). At the core of utopian theory lies the vision of a community that equitably
shares resources, knowledge, and labour among its people. But this vision remains under
constant threat from global capitalism, which challenges attempts by dispossessed
communities worldwide to reclaim communal values and social equity. Ashcroft writes:
We might pause to consider how little has changed in the world. Regardless of
the ambivalent tone in which Utopia was conceived, the basic principles of
shared property, egalitarianism and universal employment continue to be
central to utopian theory because inequality and exploitation remain prominent
features of global capitalism. Utopia provided a literary “beginning” to a
fundamental feature of human imagination- what Ernst Bloch would later call
its “anticipatory consciousness.” (Ashcroft, Utopianism 2)
Utopian societies are often conceived as inversions of the real world, seeking to
overturn oppressive hierarchies and rigid social structures. Begum Rokeya Sakhawat
Hossain’s 1905 story Sultana’s Dream presents a feminist utopia where traditional gender
roles are reversed—women enjoy the freedom to work outside their homes, while men
remain indoors. Written during colonial rule, the story reflects a forward-thinking vision of a
society where women have the autonomy to shape both their domestic and professional lives,
700

The Criterion: An International Journal in English Vol. 16, Issue-I, February 2025 ISSN: 0976-8165

www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
ultimately imagining a more emancipated world.

Regional Utopian Visions in the Works of Bibhutibhushan and Tarashankar

Colonial regional societies have been examined through the lens of subaltern and
marginal subjectivities, showcasing their varied efforts to reclaim a place within postcolonial
historiography. The aspirations of these societies—for subsistence, survival, and self-
determination—reflect a form of future-oriented thinking as they resist the impacts of
imperial rule. In colonial Bengal, this resistance gave rise to strong expressions of social
dreaming among regional communities, which the novels capture through complex and
ambivalent engagements with place. As Ashcroft observes, “Postcolonial utopianism arises
from an unrecognized but powerful reality: that successful resistance is transformative, and
transformation rests on the belief in an achievable future” (Ashcroft, Utopianism 4).
Ernst Bloch’s The Principle of Hope explores the fundamental human tendency to
think and hope for the Not-Yet—a vision of a possible future that can bring social change. In
their place-thinking, Bibhutibhushan and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay draw deeply from
their respective locales, which, even after disappearing, persist in individual and collective
memory. This lingering presence signals the elusive return of the past, manifested in the
characters’ visions of the Not-Yet—a future that may materialize elsewhere, at another time,
under different circumstances. As Ashcroft puts it:
For Bloch, Humans are constantly projected forward, constantly thinking of
the future, constantly oriented towards the Not-Yet-Become. It is through the
Novum- the idea of the new- that we orient ourselves and reshape questions
about the nature of human existence in concrete ways so that we can see more
clearly the direction of utopia. The very presence of daydreams, desires,
longings, anticipations, confirms the permanent orientation of human
consciousness towards the future. Moving from the curiosity and craving of
701

Regional Utopian Impulses in Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The
Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi
www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
childhood to the constant presence of mature desire Bloch indicates the depth
and prevalence of hope. Urging, longing, craving, wishing, imagining,
dreaming- the Not-Yet lies deep in human consciousness. (Ashcroft,
Utopianism 7)
In her introduction to Aranyak, Rimli Bhattacharya reflects on Bibhutibhushan
Bandyopadhyay’s literary motivation for documenting the everyday realities of regional life,
capturing its enduring spirit of survival:
Bibhutibhushan’s Aranyak becomes then a chronicle of the dispossessed in
visionary prose. Strangely rich with minute documentation of the hard day-to-
day life of gangota peasants, men and women, penurious brahmans, migrant
landless labourers and adivasis, it resists ethnography for the most part. All
who fight for survival against nature and against man—landlords, rich
tenants/moneylenders and their henchmen—are equally the object of the
narrator’s curiosity. Curiosity impelling an episodic narrative that is threaded
by the seasonal links of a baramashyo or baramashya, of an intricately bound
social system pervaded by the almost ‘normative’ hierarchy defined by caste.
(Bhattacharya viii)
Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay remains deeply rooted in the traditions of his native
region, which significantly shapes his regional novels. Though traditionalist in many ways,
he acknowledges and even advocates for change—particularly the kind that allows the
subjugated to challenge rigid orthodoxies and colonial dominance in rural Bengal. The
inevitable clash with dominant forces gives rise to alternative expressions of community, as
marginalized groups struggle to maintain their place or are compelled to migrate in search of
survival.
In this context, Bibhutibhushan’s Aranyak is permeated by the theme of
dispossession, where the loss of place forces forest dwellers to migrate as their only viable
702

The Criterion: An International Journal in English Vol. 16, Issue-I, February 2025 ISSN: 0976-8165

www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
option. Similarly, Tarashankar’s The Tale of Hansuli Turn portrays a community’s forced
migration to an urban colonial setting, with its characters repeatedly seeking the vanished
village of Bansbadi—an imagined space of belonging that remains central to their identity.
These texts, therefore, open up the necessity of future-oriented thinking, emphasizing not the
recreation of a lost place, but the endurance of its meaning. In this way, the novels frame
place as an impulse—one that fuels resistance against imperial power and enables individuals
to redefine their existence in a transformed world. About Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay,
Mahasweta Devi writes:
Though he wrote continuously of human progress, he was a lover of the
tradition, so deeply rooted in the mind of the nation. And lastly he wrote of
rural Bengal from direct knowledge and experience and this won him the
loyalty of the readers of the thirties and the forties who had their roots in the
villages. (Chakravarty 47)
Of “Bharotborsho” and the Marginal in Aranyak

Aranyak was written during the 1937-1939 period, when World War II was
about to begin and British colonialism in India was almost ending. Though
Bibhutibhushan does not mention these two events, the urge to clear the forest
for cultivable land shown in the novel can be connected with the colonial
desire for producing more crops. Britain’s interest in producing more crops in
the Indian subcontinent during this period is revealed in Madhushree
Mukherjee’s book Churchill’s Secret War (2011), “In 1936, a government
committee had recommended that the United Kingdom build a stockpile of at
least three months’ usage of food and animal feed in order to guard against
wartime disruptions of supply. By the time World War II broke out, the entire
machinery for feeding the country was in place. (Khan 227)
Published in 1939, Aranyak transcends literary stereotypes, incorporating a wide
703

Regional Utopian Impulses in Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The
Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi
www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
range of interpretations. At its core, the novel serves as a powerful critique of colonial
modernity and colonial capitalism, deconstructing multiple narratives that it sustains. While
often categorized as an eco-critical novel, Aranyak is also a political work by Bibhutibhushan
Bandyopadhyay—one that subtly challenges dominant colonial discourses. The novel not
only interrogates colonial knowledge systems but also disrupts the romanticized notion of
India as an idyllic Bharotborsho. It raises a critical question: can those inhabiting the
remotest regions of India envision their homeland as part of a larger national identity—one
that, paradoxically, fails to acknowledge their existence and value?
Aranyak presents a diverse array of characters, including both Bengali and non-
Bengali subaltern communities living on the fringes of the forest. Satyacharan’s perspective
on these people is shaped by his own biases, offering insight into a psyche that instinctively
otherizes the forest dwellers. Their modes of communication, food habits, and ways of life
both fascinate and mystify him, reinforcing his perception of them as fundamentally different.
At the same time, his nostalgia for urban culture and its forms of entertainment reveals his
deep-seated inclinations. As a product of colonial education, Satyacharan embodies the
contradictions of a subject shaped by imperial ideologies. Despite his awareness of the
colonial forces displacing the forest communities, he remains powerless to halt their erasure,
ultimately leaving when their near-elimination becomes inevitable:
The narrator’s geographical location at the beginning and end of the story is in
Calcutta. And this location is a significant strategy in the structure of the
narrative. The presence of Calcutta throughout the story is implicit, a protest
against this forest nature. The narrator is a middle-class, educated (i.e.
English-educated) city man; his pride in culture is strong, his understanding of
the needs of civilized people is clear (‘the company of friends, libraries,
theaters, cinemas, singing’), and at the same time his immense contempt for
the uneducated, uncultured Biharis. The narrator’s job is to settle land in a vast
704

The Criterion: An International Journal in English Vol. 16, Issue-I, February 2025 ISSN: 0976-8165

www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
forest area. To clear the forest and establish settlements. In this work, the
Bengali narrator is, of course, only a tool. He is only an employee of rich
landlords and businessmen. The nature around him is completely different
from his own and familiar nature. Because of this difference, he is a hostile
inhabitant of this forest from the beginning. But his initial hostility is more
against man than against nature (Das 29, my translation)
The narrator’s portrayal reveals a deep-seated regional tension—the clash between his
own urban Bengali upbringing, shaped by colonial ideologies, and the lives of the non-urban
forest dwellers, who are often perceived as less than human. This dehumanization stems both
from their ways of life and their detachment from the modernized world. The narrator himself
is implicated in the colonial project of transforming the wilderness through land development
initiatives, making him an agent of modernization and urbanization. Amid these conflicts, the
novel weaves together multiple narrative strands that challenge the self-proclaimed authority
of the colonial worldview:
Was it fit for human habitation? Not a soul, not a creature by my side. I was
utterly companionless. There was not a single person with whom I could
exchange a word. The idiots, the barbarians, natives of this region- were they
capable of appreciating a fine thought? Was it in their company that I would
have to spend my days?

By repeatedly pronouncing the word ‘human’, the narrator wants to deny the
inherent humanity of the people of this region. They are stupid, they are
barbaric. The whole world is divided into civilized and uncivilized. This forest
region and its people are stupid, barbaric, and uncivilized. And the civilized
world is far away, where there is a crowd of people. (Das 30, my translation)
The primary narrator experiences a profound sense of alienation and detachment from
705

Regional Utopian Impulses in Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The
Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi
www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
the people living in the forest; their way of life appears opaque and mysterious to him.
Initially, the natural surroundings make him feel deeply uncomfortable and isolated.
However, it soon becomes evident that the spectre of urbanization looms over the
wilderness—the geography of the region is increasingly vulnerable to colonial land projects,
much like in Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The Tale of Hansuli Turn. In his essay Aranyak:
Bharotborsho Kon Dike, Shishirkumar Das explores the unresolved dualism that permeates
the novel, expressing its central tensions:
The narrator of this story was initially hostile. Gradually he changed. Before
the change was complete, the narrator returned to his own environment, to
Calcutta, to Bengal, to civilization. The story changed immediately. Bengalis
and non-Bengalis, civilized and uncivilized, city and forest – in this duality, the
story finally reached the clash of two civilizations. But even there, the story
did not end. (Das 33, my translation)
In the article Introduction: Spaces of Utopia by Ashcroft, the author references Alex
Miller’s Landscape of Farewell, where the narrator accompanies an Aboriginal man to visit
his ancestral country—land that remains the country of the old people. Similarly, in Aranyak,
the old Dobru Panna takes Satyacharan deep into the forest to show him the ancient shrines
and places once ruled by their ancestors. For Dobru Panna and Bhanmati, the vast nation of
Bharotborsho holds little significance; they have neither heard nor known much beyond the
confines of their forest.
Ultimately, Aranyak remains entangled in unresolved questions and uncertainties. The
novel leaves open the question of whether the modern, colonially educated subject merely
observes an indigenous culture as an outsider or embraces it. Although the protagonist,
shaped by colonial modernity, undergoes a process of revelation, it does not reach full
realization. Instead, he remains caught in a state of intrigue, mystification, and sympathy for a
way of life he perceives as incompatible with an increasingly urbanized and rapidly changing
706

The Criterion: An International Journal in English Vol. 16, Issue-I, February 2025 ISSN: 0976-8165

www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
society.

The Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi’s Utopian Impulses
The clash among zamindari families, their subjects, and the peasants in Tarashankar’s
Kalindi signals the decline of the zamindari system with the emergence of newly wealthy
peasants and dominant classes. However, more significant is the socio-political dynamic
within which the struggles of the Santhals unfold. Ahindra’s sympathy for the nomadic
Santhals and his defiance of colonial authority reflect broader socio-political tensions and his
attempt to challenge the deep-seated stagnation of the system. Yet, his actions prove largely
ineffective in alleviating the rising class conflicts in the village or in preventing the Santhals
from being oppressed and displaced from the char lands. Local forces continue to operate
autonomously, shaped by the shifting emergence of privileged classes vying for dominance.
Tarashankar’s narrative encapsulates the Santhals’ historical memory—marked both
by their fierce resistance during the Santhal uprisings and by the subsequent subjugation that
tempered their rebellious spirit. Even in the face of repeated defeat, their survival through
migration reflects their resilience and adaptability, allowing them to navigate adversity and
move on when circumstances demand. Ashcroft’s essay Introduction: Spaces of Utopia
reflects how the utopian idea remains deeply resonant in literature due to its creative
possibilities. Even within works of realism, as exemplified by the African writer Dambudzo
Marechera, utopian fiction embodies the “productive and volatile beyond common
expectation… it plunges into the unknown” (Ashcroft 13).
In regional spaces, distance from the centre allowed local power dynamics to continue
with the overarching forces of colonial modernity and the global war in which the British
colonists were engaged. As a result, change occurred gradually and in subtle ways. The semi-
feudal zamindari system persisted for some time, even in the early years before or around
World War II. In The Tale of Hansuli Turn, the initial depiction of Bansbadi presents an
707

Regional Utopian Impulses in Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The
Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi
www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
almost idyllic yet superstitious, zamindari-ruled Kahar society, where a seemingly minor
conflict arises with the defiance of Korali, a young Kahar man. Korali refuses to
acknowledge Bonowari as the Kahar chief, rejects their zamindari subjugation, and provokes
tension by constructing a well-fortified, brick-walled house and choosing to live separately
within the village. His defiance of village orthodoxy serves as a catalyst, introducing the
accounts of city-dwelling labourers as an alternative way of life—one that Korali aspires to
embrace.
Within the Kahar community, rituals and ritualistic celebrations shape their social
world, with liquor consumption marking the end of their daily labour before they fall asleep.
While alcohol serves as a form of recreation, it also underscores a deeper social problem. It
symbolizes the unequal power relations between landlords and Kahar labourers, as liquor
suppresses hunger—the fundamental need for food. In this way, hunger becomes a tool of
oppression and liquor a means of temporary relief. Thus, the image of people falling asleep
after celebrations reflects not just festivity but a reality shaped by economic hardship, where
cheap desi liquor numbs the struggles of daily existence.
The wartime demands soon cast a shadow over Banshbadi, as large vehicles encroach
upon the land, stripping away its greenery, cutting down trees revered by the Kahars, and
leaving the people bewildered. The construction of railroads further disrupts their way of life.
The palanquin-bearing Behara Kahars and guarding Atpoure Kahars suddenly find
themselves thrust into an unforeseen wartime crisis, deprived of their familiar struggles and
the small comforts of cheap intoxication.
As the self-sustaining village disintegrates, a mass exodus unfolds in the novel. Those
who were once evicted are forced to seek livelihoods in cities and factories. In his essay
Paddy, Mangoes, and Molasses Scum: Food Regimes and the Modernist Novel in The Tale of
the Hansuli Turn, Brooke Stanley talks about the British government’s dual approach to this
transformation. Tarashankar’s novel similarly captures the transition of rural life into urban
708

The Criterion: An International Journal in English Vol. 16, Issue-I, February 2025 ISSN: 0976-8165

www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
existence, as the simple-living Kahars are suddenly displaced, becoming city-dwellers, daily
wage labourers, or vagrants. After the intrusion into the Hansuli Turn, Suchad’s narration
takes on an alienated tone, evoking the haunting presence of a lost place—where memories of
the past blur with the realities of the present. Stanley remarks:
Most suffering occurred in isolated villages but relief kitchens were located in
towns, requiring patients to travel far on food. Many relocated to Calcutta in
search of food… By prioritising the war effort and censoring reports of
famine, Britain sought not to relieve famine victims but to hide them. (263)

Suchad, in The Tale of Hansuli Turn, preserves her oral accounts as a living archive of
the Kahar community’s cultural memory:
Whereas rural serfdom was the Kahars’ own “tale”, the great river of history
sweeps them into the era of global capitalism. Euro-American hegemony
reconfigures amid the waves of decolonization that follow World War II. The
Kahars’ circumstances do not improve but are in some sense modernised, a
process that Tarashankar represents as a negotiation between genres. The
modernist novel, then, can be seen as a staging globalisation through form: it
integrates local cultures into globality by interweaving genres.” (Stanley 266)
Stanley discusses the fundamental challenge that globalized capitalism poses not only
to the diverse expressions of local cultures but also to literary forms, further complicating
their structure. This compels authors to develop strategies that preserve the nuances of local
cultures in ways that resist easy interpretation. In doing so, decolonizing the text becomes a
means of safeguarding multiple narrators—both oral and written—from erasure. Suchad’s
dialogues and monologues serve this purpose, often acting as a crucial counterpoint to the
narrator’s portrayal of the story:
Globalisation’s vast scale and heterogeneity introduce a representational
709

Regional Utopian Impulses in Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The
Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi
www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
problem: how to describe such a monster without homogenising the many
localities involved? (Stanley 266)

The colonial portrayal of tribals as either uncivilized or criminal was not only a
widely held perception but also found official recognition in colonial government records.
This framing echoes in Aranyak and Kalindi, where the history of tribal resistance is
juxtaposed with their inherent inclination toward a peaceful existence—one that, under
colonial narratives, rendered them either criminals or ignorant fools. Both novels capture
these complexities, illustrating how the long history of oppression, though often obscured in
written records, persists through oral traditions that recall the pre-colonial past. In a similar
vein, Madhumita Chakraborty notes, “The Kahars belong to an untouchable ‘criminal tribal,’
the inhabitants of Hansuli Turn soon to be epically transformed by the effects of World War II
and India’s independence movement” (1).
In Aranyak, the oral recollections of Dobru Panna and others narrate the adivasis’
early presence and their successive migrations, a pattern that also accounts for the
repopulation of the char areas in Kalindi. The history of this community unfolds through
their nomadic way of life, making Aranyak and Kalindi literary bridges to their communal
past and collective memory of displacement. Yet, their dislocation does not end within the
scope of either novel—it remains an ongoing reality.
In her essay Debt, Time and Extravagance: Money and the Making of ‘Primitives’ in
Colonial Bengal, Prathama Banerjee discusses how colonial efforts deliberately segregated
tribals from the permanently settled historical society. This was initially achieved by
relocating the nomadic community to the Rajmahal foothills, designating Damin-i-Koh as
their confined living space, and restricting their economic exchanges to colonial government-
controlled markets. However, their deep-rooted instinct for nomadism became both a means
of survival and a mode of resistance, allowing them to evade complete subjugation even as
710

The Criterion: An International Journal in English Vol. 16, Issue-I, February 2025 ISSN: 0976-8165

www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
they remained vulnerable to deprivation and exploitation. For a time, this nomadic existence
enabled them to operate on the periphery of the colonial economic system, minimizing their
reliance on capital.
The narratives in Aranyak and Kalindi display this movement-driven existence,
particularly through the tribals’ food habits, which challenge the centrality of money in an
increasingly capitalist world. The tribals inhabiting Kalindi’s char and the Kahars of
Banshbadi evoke a sense of fluid, uncharted spaces—mutable and ever-shifting. Colonial
modernity, which appears inevitable, ensures a vanishing present—its traces lingering like a
spectre, neither fully erased nor entirely intact.
In Kalindi, Tarashankar draws comparisons between various competing claimants of
the floating char land, including zamindars and upwardly mobile affluent peasants.
Parthapratim Bandyopadhyay regards Tarashankar as a chronicler of history, documenting the
transformations of changing times:
Tarashankar has brought the Santals as a counterpoint to these farmers. The
chars that are the focus of the novel are the Santals who first settled here…
These almost nomadic Santals appear in the novel Kalindi with their folk life’s
myths, stories, songs, and painted civilization; again, how they are swept away
in the process of larger society and history, the so-called civilized people
exploiting and oppressing them in an ugly way – even the dilemmas and
conflicts that arise within them, Tarashankar draws with almost historical
impartiality. (85, my translation)

The char itself serves as a striking example of the postcolonial uncanny—a space
marked by uncertainty, instability, and transformation. The inevitability of conflicts, the
waning authority of the zamindars, and the rising influence of Bimal Babu collectively
foreshadow a future in which the zamindari system is on the brink of collapse, “Tarashankar
711

Regional Utopian Impulses in Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The
Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi
www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
has shown the arrogance and methods of Bimal Mukherjee alongside the zamindari nobility
and arrogance. But despite this, Tarashankar could not ignore this historical process of
change” (Bandyopadhyay 88, my translation).
The breadth of Santhal history, spanning decades, unfolds through the repeated
recollections of their uprisings and subsequent disillusionment in Aranyak and Kalindi. The
once-fiery spirit that fueled their revolts has now faded, leaving behind a people without land
or recognition. Figures like Ronglaal and others in Kalindi perceive the Santhals as ignorant,
yet simultaneously recognize the potential to exploit their labour. The passage of time has
reduced the tribals to an overlooked populace—one that clings to the memory of its former
glory but, having lost everything, now turns once again to migration. This movement appears
to echo their sense of failure despite their legendary past rebellions.
The inhabitants of these uncharted spaces carry with them a cultural memory of an
archetypal place—one that evokes a vision of an old, idyllic home rooted in a distant,
imagined past, yet never fully realized in the present. Such cultural imaginaries seem to
sustain the postcolonial imagination of a place—forever deferred, never reaching a satisfying
conclusion or fulfilling the communitarian desire, always projected into the future. The
utopian impulse works through metaphorical and spiritual symbols, preserving the essence of
these lost spaces.
The postcolonial reality of migration emerges as an outcome of the crisis of dwelling
in marginal spaces, as seen in Aranyak, The Tale of Hansuli Turn, and Kalindi. Yet, amid this
turmoil, there are subtle hints of a future shaped by socio-political mobility, role reversals,
political consciousness, and, most importantly, a subaltern subjectivity forged from an
evolving sense of solidarity among people from various sects of the regional world. These
emerging possibilities are born out of complex relationships with colonial modernity—an era
transitioning into political independence but still bearing the weight of a painful past.
Conclusion
712

The Criterion: An International Journal in English Vol. 16, Issue-I, February 2025 ISSN: 0976-8165

www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
Aranyak, Kalindi, and The Tale of Hansuli Turn employ memory as a powerful tool in
preserving cultural heritage, using it as a medium to exercise a vision of utopianism. While
these narratives conclude with the displacement of their respective communities, the
remembrance of their past foreshadows the rich possibilities of the future, where the spirit of
hope holds the potential for social transformation.
Aranyak experiments with the concept of the nation within a colonial context, where
its reflections on Bharotborsho function not merely as passing references but as acts of social
dreaming in a time when the colonizer and the colonized compete to impose their respective
visions of nationality—imperial and vernacular. In contrast, The Tale of Hansuli Turn is
deeply rooted in the regional aesthetics of the Kahar community’s everyday struggles with
their collective history. Within this peripheral world, steeped in mystic beliefs and rituals,
Kahar elder Suchad’s storytelling embodies elements of magic realism, portraying the act of
recalling the past as a means of defining the present and envisioning the future. Although
colonial-capitalist incursions dismantle these societal structures, Tarashankar’s characters
persist in their social dreaming—evident in Suchad and Nosu’s continued storytelling after
being displaced from Bansbadi and in Korali’s return to search for traces of the long-lost
village. These moments imbue the narrative with utopian impulses, gesturing toward an
unknowable future.
The cultural identity of the Santhali community in Aranyak and the Kahar community
in The Tale of Hansuli Turn endures even after they lose their places of belonging. The spirit
of utopianism and hope manifests in their resilience—the ability to move on, adapt, and
continue in new environments that remain starkly hostile to their traditional ways of life. In
this sense, their past serves as an anchor, helping them navigate the unfamiliar realities of a
colonized world. The act of fiercely remembering their collective past after displacement
generates powerful reactions within the community, reinforcing their identity and shaping
their response to the future.
713

Regional Utopian Impulses in Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The
Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi
www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
This continuity does not result in a simple reclamation of their past identity but rather
fosters a hybrid one—a fusion of the old and the new, where survival and resistance take on
collective forms. The return of the past continues to permeate the present, fueling deeper
aspirations. It represents a time and history not fully grasped by either the author or the reader
but instead visualized with unforeseen and unknowable outcomes in the wake of colonial
displacement.
In their act of dreaming and yearning, the communities in Aranyak and The Tale of
Hansuli Turn exhibit similar impulses—holding onto their past while shaping their present
accordingly. These texts also serve as rich sites for interpreting various subjectivities in
relation to utopian dreaming, questioning both collective aspirations and individual desires
for a utopian future. Regional literature, in this sense, intertwines geography, culture, and the
search for identity within the colonial world, making it a crucial space for imagining utopian
formations in marginal societies.
At the end of The Tale of Hansuli Turn, Korali’s individual subjectivity—markedly
different from Bonowari’s—seems to seek an alternative identity through his connection with
the lost village. His return to Banshbadi suggests a reimagined collective identity, one that the
Kahar community may have aspired to in the urban-colonial landscape of Bengal but which
remained beyond the comprehension of both the colonizers and the privileged caste society.
What kind of futures can be anticipated at the end of these novels that might resolve
the crises of dwelling? What transpires in Korali’s mind as he revisits the desolate, dried-out,
and disfigured village of Banshbadi, only to begin tilling the land once again? The endings of
Aranyak, Kalindi, and The Tale of Hansuli Turn hint at alternative futures—possibilities that
are not immediately realized within the narratives but linger beyond their conclusions. In all
three cases, the Adivasis of Aranyak and Kalindi, along with the Kahars of The Tale of
714

The Criterion: An International Journal in English Vol. 16, Issue-I, February 2025 ISSN: 0976-8165

www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
Hansuli Turn, appear to be seeking new places for relocation beyond their cherished
homelands. This search itself signifies the persistence of utopian dreaming.
Their vanishing present must find a future—a space where hope can transform
their cultural archives into instruments of survival and reinvention. Despite the bleak
realities imposed by colonial modernity, the spirit of utopian dreaming endures,
ensuring that new narratives of subaltern subjectivity and dwelling continue to emerge
within the regional sphere of the postcolonial world.

Works Cited:
Ashcroft, Bill. Utopianism in Postcolonial Literatures. Routledge, 2016.
—. “Introduction: Spaces of Utopia.” Spaces of Utopia, Series II, no. 1, 2012, pp. 1–
17, ojs.letras.up.pt/index.php/sput/article/view/12247/11136. Accessed 6 Feb. 2025.
Bandyopadhyay, Saroj. Tarashankar Anwesha. Roma Prakashani, 1958,
archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.265150/page/n5/mode/2up. Accessed 10 Jan.
2025.
Bandyopadhyay, Tarashankar. The Tale of Hansuli Turn. Columbia University Press,
2011.
Banerjee, Prathama. “Debt, Time and Extravagance: Money and the Making of
‘Primitives’ in Colonial Bengal.” The Indian Economic & Social History Review, vol.
37, no. 4, Dec. 2000, pp. 423–445, https://doi.org/10.1177/001946460003700402.
Accessed 19 Oct. 2020.
Bhattacharya, Sourit. Magic and Realism in South Asia. Cambridge University Press,
2020, pp. 198–216. https://www.cambridge.org/universitypress,
doi.org/10.1017/9781108551601.015. Accessed 7 Feb. 2025.
Bandyopadhyay, Bibhutibhushan. Aranyak: Of the Forest. Translated by Rimli
715

Regional Utopian Impulses in Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Aranyak and Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s
The Tale of Hansuli Turn and Kalindi
www.the-criterion.com
https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.10448030
Bhattacharya, Seagull Books, 2017.
Castle, Gregory. “Modernism and Food Studies: Politics, Aesthetics, and the Avant-
Garde. Edited by Jessica Martell et al.” James Joyce Quarterly, vol. 58, no. 4, 2021,
pp. 560–564, https://doi.org/10.1353/jjq.2021.0024. Accessed 19 Oct. 2021.
Chakrabarty, Dipesh. Provincializing Europe. Princeton University Press, 2000.
Chakraborty, Madhumita. “Structuring Narrative Space, Memory and Everyday Present
in Tarashankar Bandyopadhyay’s The Tale of Hansuli Turn.” Academia.edu,
www.academia.edu/64031672/Structuring_Narrative_Space_Memory_and_Everyday
_Present_in_Tarashankar_Bandyopadhyay_s_The_Tale_of_Hansuli_Turn. Accessed 6
Feb. 2025.
Chakravarty, Radha. Mahasweta Devi. Taylor & Francis, 2023.
Chatterjee, Partha. The Nation and Its Fragments: Colonial and Postcolonial
Histories. Princeton University Press, 1993.
Bloch, Ernst. The Principle of Hope. Translated by Neville Plaice, Stephen Plaice,
and Paul Knight, MIT Press, 1986.
Guha, Ranajit, and Partha Chatterjee. The Small Voice of History: Collected Essays.
Permanent Black, 2010.
Luthfa, Samina, et al. The Bangladesh Environmental Humanities Reader. Rowman
& Littlefield, 2022.
716