An ‘epic’ discussion throws light on Mahabharata
If I were ever asked to name my single-most favourite book, the answer, without a moment’s hesitation, would be the Mahabharata.
If I were ever asked to name my single-most favourite book, the answer, without a moment’s hesitation, would be the Mahabharata. For, it is said that what doesn’t exist in the Mahabharata doesn’t exist in this world, or even the universe. It is the classic masala potboiler with all the bhavas, the navarasas from shringara or love, hasya or laughter, raudra or anger, karuna or compassion, vibhitsa or revulsion, bhayanka or horror, veera or valour and adbhuta or wonder and, of course, shanti or peace. Two additional rasas that appeared much after Bharata wrote his Natyashatra are perhaps vatsalya, or parental love, and bhakti, or spiritual devotion, which are the cornerstones of the Mahabharata — Dhritrashta’s blind love for his progeny and Lord Krishna’s discourse of the Gita.
When it has everything thrown in for good measure, it is no wonder the epic has withstood the test of time and captured popular imagination like no other tome ever has or ever will. Most of us have grown up listening to stories from the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, which were part of the story-telling repertoire of our grandparents and parents. It is my conviction that the epics must be viewed against the backdrop of not only the value system and ideals they represent, as they form the very core of the collective psyche, but also visual and performing art traditions.
Even before the term popular culture gained currency, the epics had captured the imagination of the artists and artistes, where the sheer power of the myth captivated enough to include the heroes and the anti-heroes within their ambit, with all the regional flavours intact. Virtually all forms of wall paintings and sculpture traditions across the country — be they pattachitra, madhubani, kohbar paintings, patua paintings or the terracotta sculptures of the mandna tradition —look towards the epics for their thematic sustenance.
Recently, when Neena Gulati invited me to be a panelist for a discussion on “Impact of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata on the Performing and Visual Arts” at the Oxford bookstore, it took me no time to take up the offer. This was especially since the other panelists included some of the biggest names of their respective fields: Dhrupad exponent Wasifuddin Dagar, Bharatanatyam danseuse and culture activist Prathibha Prahlad and theatre director, practitioner, commentator and teacher Manohar Khushlani. The discussion turned out to be one of the most sparkling discussions on the subject I have heard in a long time. All practitioners spoke from the vantage point of their personal experiences of having dealt with the epics, which made it completely unique.
It must be remembered that dance-drama traditions in the Asian context are not merely a leisure-time activity but form an integral part of the reality of life. These forms are bound by a commonality of thematic content, narrative, contextual similarities and a highly stylised repertoire. There is an inbuilt system of unity in their artistic vision and performance traditions. “The unbroken continuity with acceptance of change, modification and dynamism is perhaps an indication of the conviction in tradition being akin to a flowing river — ever changing, ever dynamic and ever vibrant,” said Manohar Khushlani.
Prathibha Prahalad, with her immense experience in the arts, shared some rare nuggets: “The performing arts revolving around the epics can’t be viewed as an isolated art activity, but must be viewed within the context of deep concerns of the world view of the Indian mindset,” she said. The forms may vary from esoteric worship and ritual practices, including painting to street theatre to circus and acrobatic forms, and go far beyond the momentary artistic and theatrical experience. The spread of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata theatre has shaped the contours of life and art of the people of not only India, but also of South-East Asia, Central Asia, China and even Japan. The genesis of the story goes back to 1000 to 800 BC, beyond doubt to a period prior to the date of Valmiki’s creation of the Ramayana.
Ustad Wasiffudin Dagar recounted some singing and single actor traditions prevalent in other parts of India with each drawing upon regional versions of the Ramayana. He held the audience spell-bound singing some compositions that draw upon the epic heroes as their inspirational mainstay.
On the same day, another performance was taking place, which, too, was based on the Mahabharata. This was “Prashna Panchali”, written by poet and author Sunita Buddhiraja and performed by Preeta Thakur of Ank theatre group. The book itself deserves to be categorised as a classic in its expanse and the entire feminine discourse it touches upon. And Preeta lives the questions posed by Draupadi or Panchali for she has internalised the text. She single-handedly enthralls the audience with her performance and does not let audience interest pall even for a minute. In the discussion, too, the entire feminist discourse on the Epics was part of the text and the subtext, like in Sunita Buddhiraja’s book.
The fact remains that the simplest and the most popular form of singing and storytelling is that of the kathakara. He may be called the Rama kathakara or the Hari kathakara and is a singer, musician, mono actor and instrumentalist all rolled into one. The performer has the liberty to interpolate and paraphrase to give the story contemporary validity, like a sutradhaar of Sanskrit drama or the vidhushak of kudiyattam, and is an important form of social and political satire. In Odisha, it is the Dasikathia form of ballad singing, which extols the virtues of Rama, that is popular. In Andhra, it is the Burrakatha that holds sway. Here, there are three singers with a mono-actor, who perform several roles like the Pandvani style of recounting the katha of the Pandavs from tribal Madhya Pradesh.
The Veergasey singers from Mysore use the Toravai and the Pampa Ramayana. In Kerala, it is the kamban Ramayana that is popular. Bengali ballad singers use Krittivasa’s Ramayana. But the most popular continues to be Tulsidas’ Ramacharitmanas, which is sung, recited, and enacted all over north India. The most spectacular of course is the enactment of the Ramayana in Benaras, called the Ramnagar ki Ramayana, where the venue shifts everyday of the performance to include every area of the city during Navratri, when good must conquer evil on Dussehra. And the entire population of the city joins in to relive the story and feel the pain, the anguish and the pleasure of the dramatis personae. And in that sense, they draw their ideals from them.
All the traditional and folk puppet theatre forms, be it shadow, rod, glove and string from the Ravana chhaya from Orissa or tholubommalattam from Andhra or Karnataka, look towards the Ramayana and the Mahabharata for their literary content. In all earnestness, I feel humbled that we have these epics as part of our tradition that have answers to every contemporary dilemma and are living traditions and our cultural mainstay. Plus, they throw up endless permutations and combinations for interpretations and reinterpretations.
Dr Alka Raghuvanshi is an art writer, curator and artist and can be contacted on alkaraghuvanshi@yahoo.com