In most of her poetry Kamala Das is seen to express her bitter feelings toward the loveless martial relationship where the husband always tries to internalize his ideologies to the woman. Her poetry depicts that marriage is no more than a way of learning about one’s self or the completion of one’s own personality where living in the same room the female gradually turns to a “Subaltern.” That’s why while reading the poetry of Kamala Das the readers can easily get the idea of “self and other” from the dictions, tone and the incident represented in the particular poem. In the same way, “The Old Playhouse” tells about the unsatisfactory and disappointing conjugal life of speaker with her husband. Kamala Das argues that from the very beginning of her conjugal life her husband tries to tame her that means the process of domesticating the women starts just after their marriage. It suggests that the women start to lose their identity at the beginning of their married life. That’s why in spite of their living together their souls never get connected which eventually portray two separated selves. Here the narrator compares her with a Swallow which refers to a long winged migratory bird. The migratory bird has its experience of flying the wide sky, it knows the endless pathways of the sky:

In the long summer of your love so that she would forget
Not the raw seasons alone, and the homes left behind, but
Also her nature, the urge to fly, and the endless
Pathways of the sky. (The Old Playhouse: 2-5)

But in this poem the narrator’s husband has been found to apply the techniques of love so that it “would forget not the raw seasons alone” but also “the homes it left behind”. Just like this migratory bird after her marriage where the marriage has been compared with the migration of bird the narrator’s life has been caged. Now she has lost her spirit to fly and urge to find her old home which she left behind. Here the homes have been compared with the inner self of the poet which she starts to loss just after her marriage. And her searching for identity has been continued in different poetry like “My Grandmother’s House” where Kamala Das is seen to tell that she has lost her way and is trying to get back her identity by wandering at strangers’ doors:

There is no place of the exploitation and dehumanization of any partner in love. But opposite things happen in this poem where the narrator’s husband has been found to give her lesson only about himself. It suggests that after the marriage the husband tries to internalize his ideologies to her wife. On the contrary Kamala Das argues that she has not come to the life of her husband only to learn about the rules and regulations of patriarchal society rather she wants to learn how to fly and how to grow. In a nutshell the poetess wants to establish her identity with the help of her husband which never comes true. 

Here in this poem Kamala Das has tried to be a free agent of human being and tries to make her soul free but every time she has been imprisoned by the egotistical nature of her Husband. She is also seen to criticize the loveless relationship where every night men and women are seen to consume each other physically but not with the spirit of divine love. Kamala Das accuses that the physical relation without love is nothing but dribbling spittle into the mouth where her husband is also seen to pour himself in “every nook and cranny” of her body which shows the animalistic attitude of man during intercourse. Here the world “poured” has played a great role to display the identity of the poetess. When someone pours oil in water then normally the water losses its own characteristics where the mixed chemical neither can work like the water nor like oil. The life of the poetess has become like this mixed chemical where she is unable to act like her husband or regain her own self of woman. Thus, with the spiritless sexual relationship the women gradually loss their true identity.

Her poetry is the acknowledgement and celebration of the beauty and courage of being a woman … asserting the need to establish her voice and identity. Finally, she is successful in her venture of searching the ultimate self and identity through the art of confession. (144)

Since Kamala Das has observed how her beloved plays tricks to make her a slave like a dwarf, in “The Looking Glass” she suggests the women to reconstruct the concept of masculine identity. Women are always considered as the object of gaze which Kamala Das wants to reverse by her poetry. In “(Re)locating (I)dentity With(in) Politicized (Re)presentation of Fe/Male Body in Kamala Das’ Poetry” According to Sultana Sarmin and Nadia Sarwar:

Apparently, it seems that the sensitive female psyche is vulnerable under the power and behavior of a male body, but a close reading of the images of represented bodies subvert the underlying power struggle between two gendered bodies. By putting the male on display and making it an object of exposure, this poem attempts to re-construct the masculine identity in a different way. (87)

The women in the society day by day loss their individuality by the hegemonial masculine identity. While interpreting “The Old Playhouse” Arya P A in her “Quest for Self in Kamala Das’ ‘The Old Playhouse’” states that, “Kamala Das portrays the ideal Indian household scene where male controls female in the name of love” (165). She argues that her husband tries to “tame her life according to his desire and in that process, she loses her own self and identity” (165).

As a result, quest for love and identity has become a major theme of Kamala Das’ poetry. Shubha Prakash and Sujata in their article “A Desperate Craving for Identity in the Major Works of Kamala Das” tell that “women are not just sexual objects but as a human as men and have their own sentiments and aspirations” (62). They opine that in her poetry Kamal Das “presents them [the women] as true lovers, mothers, sisters and saints. She always tries to search the true dignity of women” (62). Regarding the poem “The Freaks” both of them believe that, “Das also highlights the inborn passivity of the female and yet ends with the assertion “I am Freak.” This reveals the identity crisis of every Indian woman who flaunts ‘a grand, flamboyant lust’” (63). Again, Anupama in her “Quest for Self in Kamala Das’s My Story” tells that, “Her [Kamala Das] sexual escapades can also be regarded as part of her quest for identity. She indulged in extra-marital relationships as a rebellion against her uncompassionate husband and conventional society” (63). Similar kind of statement has also been given by R.K.J. Kurup:

In her [Kamala Das] autobiography she makes it clear that beyond the body there is a realm of freedom which is so important that it is all encompassing. Viewed in this light one comes to the conclusion that even her sexual adventures are experiments of her search for her true self” (116).

C.R. Nambiar shares his observation about the essence of Kamala Das poetry, “She becomes a feminist writer by making her women conscious and providing them wings to rise and flutter… The essence of her poems is struggle about her own self and… is a cry for freedom” (122). Thus, this cry for freedom works as a stimulator to awaken the readers. It is her journey from physical to the spiritual world by which Kamala Das has tried to show her readers the way to get back their identity. Tarun D. Rawal in “Quest for Female Identity in Kamala Das” points that, Kamala Das “is not really recommending adultery, but merely searching for a relationship which gives both love and identity and accepting as a woman and it is her right” (2). He argues, “A study of her psychic geography traces her journey from the physical to the spiritual. She struggles to free herself from the lure of the body and seeks redemption in Lord Krishna, a bodiless form” (2).

At sunset, on the river ban, Krishna
Loved her for the last time and left...

That night in her husband's arms, Radha felt
So dead that he asked, What is wrong,
Do you mind my kisses, love? And she said,
No, not at all, but thought, What is
It to the corpse if the maggots nip?

They did this to her, the men who know her, the man
She loved, who loved her not enough, being selfish
And a coward, the husband who neither loved nor
Used her, but was a ruthless watcher, and the band
Of cynics she turned to, clinging to their chests where
New hair sprouted like great-winged moths, burrowing her
Face into their smells and their young lusts to forget
To forget, oh, to forget, and, they said, each of
Them, I do not love, I cannot love, it is not
In my nature to love, but I can be kind to you.
They let her slide from pegs of sanity into
A bed made soft with tears, and she lay there weeping,
For sleep had lost its use. I shall build walls with tears,
She said, walls to shut me in. Her husband shut her
In, every morning, locked her in a room of books
With a streak of sunshine lying near the door like
A yellow cat to keep her company, but soon
Winter came, and one day while locking her in, he
Noticed that the cat of sunshine was only a
Line, a half-thin line, and in the evening when
He returned to take her out, she was a cold and
Half dead woman, now of no use at all to men.

Idea of Self in Kamal Das Poetry

Kamala Das (1934-2009) writes the biography of her own with the language of poetry where in most of her writings she tries to express her hunger for love that ultimately echoes the extreme solitude of women. Though her choice of words, phrases, idioms, tone and syntactical construction portray the Indian English poetry, her search for love and identity connect the readers all over the world. Because of its subjective and autobiographical nature, like other confessional poets Kamala Das has got the chance to pour her into the poetry which enables her to associate the readers with her personal feelings. In her poetry she projects herself as a feminist poetic voice who is always seen to uphold her dignity and individuality against the patriarchy.

Idea of self  in Kamala Das

Kamala Das’ poetry tends to explore the man-woman relationship where she tries to uncover and subvert the politicized patriarchal representation of gendered identity. She openly revolts against the traditionally accepted womanhood concepts in the Indian society and urges the women not to pretend like a nympho that makes them a puppet of the masculine world. She raises her voice against the norms of society which want female to fit into the traditional framework. The frankness with which Kamala Das depicts her personal relationship about love, sex, loneliness as well as about her disillusionment actually shows her intention to make the women free from the taboos and awakens their muted “Self”. In confessional poetry the readers sense a psychological equivalent with the writers. By sharing her own identity crisis, Kamala Das properly uses this technique of psychological equivalent for driving her readers to feel the real essence of “Self.”

In her poetry Kamala Das boldly tells about the female sexuality, their longing for love, sex and extreme loneliness. The male characters depicted in her poetry are always unable to feel the muted desire of women rather they love to imprison the women’s passion within the four walls. Kamala Das’ poems symbolize the confused condition of the women who are actually expected to free their souls sexually and domestically from the male chauvinism. In her poetry Kamala Das simultaneously embodies the agonies of women emerging from the state of suffocation as well as encourages them to battle against the barriers from their counterparts so that they can rejoice for their existence in this world.

You planned to tame a swallow, to hold her
In the long summer of your love so that she would forget
Not the raw seasons alone, and the homes left behind, but
Also her nature, the urge to fly, and the endless
Pathways of the sky. It was not to gather knowledge
Of yet another man that I came to you but to learn
What I was, and by learning, to learn to grow, but every
Lesson you gave was about yourself. You were pleased
With my body's response, its weather, its usual shallow
Convulsions. You dribbled spittle into my mouth, you poured
Yourself into every nook and cranny, you embalmed
My poor lust with your bitter-sweet juices. You called me wife,
I was taught to break saccharine into your tea and
To offer at the right moment the vitamins. Cowering
Beneath your monstrous ego I ate the magic loaf and
Became a dwarf. I lost my will and reason, to all your
Questions I mumbled incoherent replies. The summer
Begins to pall. I remember the rudder breezes
Of the fall and the smoke from the burning leaves. Your room is
Always lit by artificial lights, your windows always
Shut. Even the air-conditioner helps so little,
All pervasive is the male scent of your breath. The cut flowers
In the vases have begun to smell of human sweat. There is
No more singing, no more dance, my mind is an old
Playhouse with all its lights put out. The strong man's technique is
Always the same, he serves his love in lethal doses,
For, love is Narcissus at the water's edge, haunted
By its own lonely face, and yet it must seek at last
An end, a pure, total freedom, it must will the mirrors
To shatter and the kind night to erase the water. 

Ya Mohammed

Ya Mohammed,

May the lord shower

His grace upon him!

You are the golden dawn

That illuminates the dark Arabian nights.

The last prophet

Who fight for fidelity and truth.

We hear about the luminosity of that face

Even after the long fourteen centuries.

We are unfortunate

Who came late,

We blame our fate.

Oh, the master

Esteemed by more than

Forty generations

We prepare for you,

The banquets of love.

You came like the raindrops,

On the desert, unexpectedly;

The rain has long gone,

Yet, as a golden memory, it remains,

In each tiny speck of sand.

The Freaks

by Kamala Das