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Online edition of India's National Newspaper Sunday, August 12, 2001 |
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Unveiling hidden realities
"Shobha Yatra" deals with problems of the present day - violence,
corruption and loss of ideals. GOWRI RAMNARAYAN speaks to the
playwright.
NO recent play in Marathi has provoked the excitement that
"Shobha Yatra" has done. It has originality and that dynamism
essential to living theatre. It has found an ingenious form to
deal with the problems of present day India - the increasing
violence, cynicism, corruption, terrorism, consumerism and loss
of ideals.
A godown provides rehearsal space for scenes from the freedom
struggle featuring nationalist heroes, as part of the
Independence Day parade. Only the schoolteacher playing Jhansi ki
Rani is unaware that the pageant is sponsored by an underworld
don. In this bleak comedy, performed so far in Marathi, Bengali,
Hindi and English, the conflicts are generated by the contrasts
between the actors and the characters (Gandhi, Nehru, Subhash
Bose) they portray. Barbie (NRI lenswoman) triggers jealousies
and heartburn as Gandhi and Bose fight for her attention.
"I don't want to comment on contemporary existence through
history, myth or folk tale. I don't care for realism or
naturalism either. I want to find my own way to confront reality
directly," says playwright Shafaat Khan (as "Shobha Yatra" does
with its blend of history-myth, past-present, dream-illusion).
"It seems to me that what we see before us is not real, reality
lies hidden behind it." A playwright must break that convincing
illusion and reassemble its components to reach reality.
A slow writer (six plays, two adaptations), Shafaat Khan began
with black humour and socio-political satire in "The Crows of
Bombay" (1976), in which two Mumbai social workers with opposing
political affiliations find themselves in cyclone-ravaged
Gujarat. Government and World Bank get enmeshed in the villagers'
demand for the vanished crows indispensable in funeral rites. The
play had over 800 shows in which the guffawing audience got
visibly perturbed with hometruths.
Similarly, black humour darkened "Kisse" One and Two, where Khan
shuffled the norms of the Indian narrative tradition to show how
the story on hand could neither be told nor understood. The
bizarre, grotesque "Farce of Geometry" satirised problems of
identity. (A circular man thinks he is a perfect square and
pretends to be a triangle). It deployed magic to good effect.
The Mumbai riots fired by the demolition of the Babri Masjid
brought change of direction. "Until then I believed that violence
was in the hands of a few goondas and politicians. For the first
time I saw that physically and mentally, the common man was with
the destructive forces all the way. A whole society was given
over to violence, believing that it provided all the answers."
Shafaat Khan was trapped for ten days in his Ghatkoper home. "I
tried to write a play about what was happening around me. But
somehow I couldn't." That was when theatre director Waman Kendre
asked Khan to adapt Azgar Wajahat's famous "Jis Lahore Na
Dekhya..." in Marathi.
"I couldn't translate. The problem was not linguistic but the
mental block of belonging to the Marathi tradition where whatever
happens in the whole world has to happen within the family. But I
thought the play I wanted to write could use this form." So he
wrote about a Konkani Muslim family's migration to Pakistan. You
saw what it felt to be a Muslim in India, but also that all human
beings were the same at heart.
"Rahile Door Ghar Majhe" (Far From Home) managed 95 shows. For
the first time a Muslim family was centrestaged in Marathi
commercial theatre. "My friends were stunned that I wrote
something so different from the arty-sharty stuff I had been
doing," he laughs. "Here I was saying boldly, openly, that you
have to stand up against violence. If not, you won't survive."
"Shobha Yatra" was triggered when, with a group of friends, the
playwright visited the maidan where a huge historical pageant was
being rehearsed for the Independence day procession. "As I
stepped into the ground Pandit Nehru came up to ask me to light
his cigarette. I found Tilak, Jhansi ki Rani and Subhash Bose
having a little party, glass in hand."
It was at a playwrights' workshop conducted by the West Zone
Cultural Centre that Shafaat Khan realised the value of those
visuals. "The best form for depicting our downfall in every
aspect of life." Six months later "Shobha Yatra" emerged, an
ironic comment on the 50 years of the "radiant, auspicious
journey" of Independent India. The bizarre shifts in identity and
perception, between the real, unreal, surreal and metareal,
extend the theme of the "Farce of Geometry".
"We boast of 150 years of Marathi drama but our audiences are
mostly unaware that theatre has powers beyond entertainment," he
says wryly."Our commercial productions reduce problems to the
four-speakers-for-and-four-against school debate model." Despite
its subtle form and dense content "Shobha Yatra" became a crowd
puller with 176 shows in Marathi alone. It could have gone on but
for the problem of retaining the actors busy with TV shoots.
Shafaat Khan says that the Babri Masjid demolition was an
awakening for non Muslims as well. That was when he himself
became fully conscious of his Muslim identity. As a writer he
woke to a sense of responsibility. "No one had the guts to stop
the riots, and since then no one has written a poem or a novel
about it, behaving as though nothing happened," he shakes his
head in disbelief. "As a creative person it was my duty to watch
and record what's happening here and now."
The tyranny of the word is a major problem in Marathi theatre
with its old tradition of rhetoric. "There's more verbal economy
now but do you know we still have viewers up in front who take
down the dialogues to quote and discuss later?" The producer
panics at the mention of suggestive sets. Why risk alienating the
audience with "artiness"?
But on the whole present-day viewers are able to digest graver
matters than before. Hadn't Jayant Pawar's "Adhyantar" on the
problems of mill workers drawn crowds, as had Suresh Chikle's
"Golpeeth" about the red light area? The Berlin wall had cracked
down, allowing crossovers between the experimental stage and the
professional. "Actually, there is little parallel theatre left -
no smashing of old formulas or crafting new idioms." He too
suffers from the same malaise of "what you understood is not what
I meant."
Having moved from the parallel to the mainstream, Shafaat Khan
believes that parallel theatre should maintain its separate
identity as did the Chhabildas and Rangayan movements of the
past, because experiments are essential to nourish, sustain and
rejuvenate commercial theatre. But he also knows that "You can
break norms and forms with abandon in experimental attempts, but
you will have only 50 viewers. To communicate to a larger
audience you have to join the mainstream. People cannot analyse
the climate they live in. I try to make them see that reality. I
don't compromise to entertain."
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