Solid dramatic substance

THE status enjoyed by Indian fiction in English is, unfortunately, not shared by Indo-Anglian drama. Hardly surprising since English plays by Indian authors tend often to be either tedious, unperformable discourses or shallow bedroom farces. But between these two unhappy extremes there are the works of a handful of excellent playwrights, wonderfully satisfying plays that cry out to be performed: the multi-faceted opus of Asif Currimbhoy; Girish Karnad's own translations of his powerful Kannada plays, the biting social commentaries of Mahesh Dattani. Gurcharan Das - better known in his avatar as corporate guru - is another dramatist of significance. Originally written in the 1960s, these three plays span three dramatic models: the history play "Larins Sahib", Total Theatre "Mira" and Social Realism "9 Jakhoo Hill". Every model has distinct parameters and Das's degree of success with each is a measure of his versatility and skill as a playwright.

Set in mid-19th Century Punjab, the action of "Larins Sahib" unfolds against the backdrop of political chaos and murky intrigue that marked the time immediately following the death of Ranjit Singh. Drawing from historical sources, both written and oral, Das has created his protagonist, East India Company servant, Henry Lawrence, almost on the lines of a tragic hero. In him we see the struggle between personal ethics, duty and pride as Lawrence strives to balance the three facets of his self, the enlightened empire builder, an agent in the British government's unprincipled, relentless augmentation of its Indian territories, and the part of himself which longs to be the Lion of the Punjab. In the end, there can be no resolution and one witnesses the moral degeneration of one who had truly heroic potential. The play moves swiftly, the dramatic tension being sustained from one scene to the next, and is peopled by high-impact characters: Ranjit Singh's widow; the brave soldier Sher Singh, the boy Dalip and, of course, Lawrence himself.

In the final analysis, however, the play leaves one somewhat unsatisfied, perhaps because it fails to explore Lawrence's character and motivation at any depth, and hence does not really explain his transformation from a principled, essentially good person to the arrogant weak man we see at the play's finale. Das himself is acutely aware of this, admitting "if I had to go back to it [the play] I would work on Lawrence's motivation".

"Mira", based on the life of the Hindu saint Mirabai, is easily the most ambitious of the three plays and also perhaps the work where Das's creativity and talent are displayed most emphatically. Not surprisingly, this play was picked up by Ellen Stewart of La Mama, one of the renowned experimental theatre groups of 1960s in New York and performed to rave reviews in the local press. In the denaturalised total theatre form of "Mira", one finds a synchrony of subject and medium: the sublime, sometimes terrifying path that the Rajput princess must traverse on her road to salvation and sainthood dramatised through ritualistic cadences and movement, dance, song and aphoristic speech. "Mira" is an excellent performance text, one that will stretch the talent and creativity-limits of actors.

Unexpectedly, of the three pieces, "9 Jakhoo Hill" is the most disappointing. Unexpected because it follows the most conventional form, the sitting room drama and deals with characters and situations that the playwright, as he acknowledges in the introduction, is most familiar with. The play is set in Simla during Diwali 1962, and the political turmoil and disillusionment of the outside world, India's demoralising war with China, the gradual decline of Nehruvian ideals and optimism is echoed in the sitting room of 9 Jakhoo Hill where a once well- to-do family watches in incomprehension as its genteel world disintegrates in the face of a brash new social-climbing middle- class. Despite being three decades old, the theme has a currency even today and its exploration makes the play remain relevant. Where the play fails is in its characterisation. Two of the main roles, Amrita and her daughter Ansuya, are well delineated, the former, a believable ensemble of bewilderment, petulance and little-girl charm as she confronts her growing irrelevance; and the latter a vibrant, intelligent young woman torn between duty to her family and the need to strike out on her own. But the rest are cardboard figures, their unidimensionality jarring and amateur, the worst being the figure of Karan, Ansuya's mamu, who, one suspects, the dramatist intended as a sympathetic and complex character; but the gap between intention and execution has resulted in a character utterly unpleasant, verbose and depressingly predictable. The play does have its moments, however, and its theme obviously finds a resonance with most urban theatre audience in India, explaining perhaps why this is the most frequently performed of all Das's plays.

Three English Plays is a welcome addition to Indo-Anglian publications for several reasons, one of the most significant being Das's acute consciousness that he is creating text that, first and foremost, is meant to be performed, not relegated to being merely read. To this concern, which pervades his well- written introduction to the volume and informs each piece, can be attributed the volume's overall achievement.

ARUNDHATI RAY

Three English Plays, Gurcharan Das, Oxford University Press, price not given.

Send this article to Friends by E-Mail

Section  : Features
Previous : Death, life and love
Next     : Breathtaking yellow