For once, it was a relief to see our epic heroines Amba, Satyavathi, Kunti, Gandhari and Draupadi in their ‘true colours' presented in a 21st century perspective. The recently-staged English one-act play The Mahabharata of Women authenticates the quote that ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'.
The epic was analysed from a logical standpoint sans bias of any sort. There was no veneration or degradation, which was refreshing. An incident of the present era which has its repercussion on a family generation after generation is juxtaposed to a similar happening which brings about the entire authoring of the Mahabharata. The drama unfolds with just three to four actors donning varied roles, moving back and forth in time without any confusion to the audience.
The curse of a woman who was persecuted by her male family members keeps visiting the progeny, or so the elders of the family believe, and try to make amends to appease that tormented spirit. In one such attempt, a mother gives up her life at 80, eschewing food and water, we are told by her grieving son. The curse has a resemblance to Amba's plight.
Then we find the corpse (mother) rising and narrating the epic story to her son and daughter who keeps butting in with present day logical questions about the morality of the women from the epics. It wasn't a bitter pill for the audience as most of us would be asking ourselves similar questions. The women rise as the story is being told and we watch them change into perpetrators of unwarranted cruelty in the name of vendetta. Thus we have a revengeful Amba swearing to ruin Bheesma, a selfish Satyavathi who throws caution to the winds for the sake of progeny, a Kunti who causes Karna untold misery and a vengeful Draupadi who cries ‘war' and a blind Gandhari who rains curses on Krsna.
Mind you, none of their intentions were noble; their grievances were purely selfish and egoistic, yet they wrecked havoc. The baseline: such women are not confined to the pages of history; they exist in today's world too. Kiran Chiluveru who acts as the devastated son was at his emotional best not only in this role but also as Bheeshma, Karna, Krsna, Yudhistara. His gesticulations and action was powerful but he lost out on English diction and grammar. The hitch in the plot was the language and pronunciation of the other female actors who had to deliver long-winding, complex dialogues. These could have been avoided if the dialogues were simpler in keeping with the large canvas. What was laudable was effort to cover such a wide subject within a fixed time frame.
Sowmya Ram Holagundi as the young present day daughter, Amba and later Draupadi proved to be an actor with mettle. She essayed her roles with élan, living them out with an emotion and voice to match. Pallavi Verma as Satyavathi and Kunti was true to her characters. Pratima Sinha as the present day mother, the alter ego and Gandhari was convincing in her role.
Penned by K. Madhvavane and directed by Ram Mohan Holagundi, and staged at Ravindra Bharati on World Theatre Day, the play was able to bring out the concept of myth and reality in a compelling manner.
