Hayavadana

Hayavadana is a very well-known and widely enacted play by Girish Karnad. Karnad's play is based on Thomas Mann's novel The Transposed Heads, which in itself draws inspiration from the Kathasaritsagara, an eleventh-century book of Indian legends. Two theatre groups, The Industrial Theatre Co. and the Black Boxers have collaborated to bring this play to the audience around India in recent days. Recently, they landed in Bangalore after enacting the play in Mumbai's Regal Theatre.They enacted the play this Saturday and Sunday in Rangashankara.

I went to watch the play this Sunday. The moment I entered the amphitheatre, my eyes rested on the legendary Girish Karnad, seated with a host of other theatre personalities (or that is what I assumed them to be, I did recognize a few of them). I understood then that this was going to be an acid test for the actors and organizers. They had come to the birth-place of their play and were enacting it in front of its creator. In fact, I myself felt nervous on behalf of the actors.

But I guess the actors themselves did not share my fears, because what transpired in front of my eyes for the next two hours was sheer artistry. But more on that later, since I wish to give a synopsis of the play first.

The play opens with some random-looking characters, two of them acting as the thread-bearers of the narrative and the others enacting undefined parts. The only defined character in the first 15 minutes was Hayavadana, an unfortunate young man, who is stuck with a horse's head because his mother had fallen in love with a horse (as he very humorously narrates). He tells his story and moves away in search of a deity to make him complete (a word loaded with peril as the play goes on to demonstrate).

The narrative then moves to the story of Devdutt, Kapil and Padmini. Devdutt is a wise and learned Brahmin youth, vigorous in mind but frail in body. His dearest friend, Kapil, is an uncouth young man, illiterate but glorious in physique and brutishly strong. Both of them fall in love with the beautiful Padmini. The playful and impulsive Padmini marries Devdutt, but fantasizes about Kapil's rippling body. Devdutt is aware of Padmini's feelings towards Kapil and is driven to despair. Kapil is the quintessional all-sacrificing friend to Devdutt, but even he is allured by Padmini's charms.

While on a trip to Ujjain, Devdutt's despair reaches a peak and he cuts off his own head as a scarifice to the goddess Kali. Kapil, horrified at what had happened and unable to bear his friend's death, cuts off his head too. Padmini is scared when she thinks about the insinuations people would level at her after these events and about how she would survive alone in the jungle. Rather than being grieved, she is annoyed with the two men in her life for leaving her in this predicament. She prays to Kali for help and Kali does appear. (brilliantly interpreted and played by Dilnaz Irani) Kali instructs Padmini to rejoin the heads back to the bodies so she could bring them back to life. In the dark, Padmini mixes up the heads and brings alive a robust Devdutt and a frail Kapil. (Even though it is not hinted anywhere in the play, I like to interpret that Padmini was not entirely unaware of what she had done here. She did, wittingly or unwittingly, create her dream lover, the head she had married with the body she had fantasized about).

At this point, the whole gathering, the characters, the audience and the narrative itself is posed with the age-old debate of mind vs body. Who should Padmini go with - her husband's head or his body? A sage decides in favour of the head, as did King Vikram in the story in Vikram Betaal. (I am assuming you remember this story being aired in Vikram Betaal. In case you don't, you will just have to take my word for it). But the story does not end here as it did in Vikram Betaal. The play further explores the consequences of the decision in favour of the head. Both men, Devdutt and Kapil, soon discover that the body itself has a mind of its own. They also discover that the body is ultimately commanded by the mind and is temporary in nature. Padmini finds herself once again torn between desire and layoalty to her husband.

The play ends with Hayavadana making a reappearance, as a horse this time. Apparently, the deity had interpreted his idea of completeness as a desire to be a horse.

As I have already mentioned, the entire production was sheer artistry. The space available, the props, the music (monotones mostly, of a drum, a flute and a tabla in turn), the actors and even the audience itself were innovatively and imaginatively used to perfection. The actors shed skins effortlessly and play different characters during the play. When they are not playing, they sit on cushions near the periphery and participate as the audience. The characters use the stage to depict conversations as well as ruminations. At times, they speak directly to the audience and at times to noone in particular. Throughout the play, the audience is actively involved in the play, making it a very personal experience.

The actors, themselves, were extremely good. I recognized a few from TV ads and serials. They (in fact the entire production) were very energetic. The sensulaity of Padmini and Kapil have been wonderfully depicted, Kapil's through sheer machismo and Padmini's with grace and flirtatiousness. Devdutt gives a very convincing portrayal of an intelligent and studious Brahmin who is also a bit stale in spirit. But even more convincing is his transformation into the brutish Kapil handicapped by Devdutt's frail body.

On the whole, it was a wonderful experience. Girish Karnad being there in such close proximity (he was just a couple of rows away) made it even more surreal. I would a rate Hayavadana as a must see.

Science and Scientific Management

The word Science originated from the Latin word scientia meaning knowledge. Science indeed means knowledge in a broad sense of the term. But science is not knowledge for the sake of knowledge; nor is it knowledge which is taken for granted. The sole aim of Science is to explain the natural phenomena occurring arround us. Science is knowledge which logically explains natural phenomena and which can be tested. Further on, Science systematically builds and organizes reliable knowledge.

The term Scientific Management is slightly ambiguous. It can refer to a certain management theory also called Taylorism, or it can refer to any theory of management which has been formulated logically. For purposes of convenience, let's take up the case of the specific management theory called Scientific Management or Taylorism.

This theory was propounded by Frederick Winslow Taylor in the USA. This theory was first used in the 1880's and 1890's in the then existing manufatcuring industries. It reached it's inluential peak in the 1910's and 1920's, but was nearly obsolete by the 1930's.

The theory of Scientific Management analysed and synthesized workflows. Its primary aim was to increase economic efficiency, labour productivity in particular. The idea behind the theory was to find the most efficient way to perform any task. The responsibility to do this lay with the managers. The task would then be broken up into micro components or steps, and workers would be trained to perform these specific tasks. Thus, craft production, which depended solely on the skill of the labourers was transformed into mass production, which required less skill and consumed less time.

Though Taylor had no idea at that time, he had also actually planted the seed for automation of production. By breaking down tasks into micro-tasks, which required no decision-making skill on the part of the worker, he had shown how automation could be achieved with the help of machines.

Scientific Management invited wide criticism in later years mainly because of the fact that it dehumanized and de-skilled workers to the point where they actually performed the role of machines. In fact, Taylor himself  demonstrated a very condescending attitude to the workers of lower intelligence, often comparing them with "draft animals" The basic assumption of Scientific management was that all workers were unmotivated and inefficient. So the theory concentrated on creating a standardized best-practice process, which the workers would be forced to follow. The power of making decisions was completely taken away from the workers. The massive divide between the blue-collar and white-collar workers created by this theory led to an increase in the ever-present labour-management conflict.

Taylor did advocate output-based remuneration to workers to motivate them to become more efficient. He introduced a piece-rate compensation which rewarded the workers for higher productivity. But this idea was mostly rejected by the manufacturers of that time. Instead, they looked to use Taylor's theory mostly to expolit their workers to the fullest.

Even though Taylorism as a theory pretty much died out by the 1930's. many of his concepts still persist in management theories today.

Bon Voyage

I have always considered myself to be amongst the more intelligent specimens of my species. I had sailed through my academic career without breaking a sweat. And that's where the problems came in. Because everything came so easy to me, I had regressed into a rather lazy person. After passing out of Engineering College, I wanted to relax. Higher studies beckoned but I decided to ignore the beckoning for the time being. Besides, Hey! I knew I was intelligent! Why did I need a degree to prove it to everyone?! Right!?

It was actually after working for a few years that I realised that just being intelligent was not sufficient. Intelligence and common sense were great attributes to possess, but they could only carry you so far. Beyond a point, you had to go out and learn new things to be good at your job. And being good at my job has always been very important to me. You are nothing if you are not good at what you do. So I decided to do my MBA. Now or never I said to myself. This was a journey I had to undertake, no matter how gruelling.

It was with these honourable intentions that I decided to join the Executive PGDM program at Alliance University. The University was very close to where I stayed and it was probably the best in Bangalore after IIMB. These were good enough reasons for me to choose Alliance University.

The first day is the Orientatation session, which I expect to be boring. I came primarily because I saw the two magical words "High Tea" in the schedule. On entering, all of us are handed a nice folder with the prospectus, the schedule for the term and a notepad. The folder is pretty nice, I must say. The pen inside the folder, too, is beautiful. The Orientation session is going on pretty well I have to admit. The guest speakers and administrative notaries do not speak unduly long. I think they have done some good research on the attention spans of people these days.

Soon it's time for the eagerly anticipated "High Tea". We are all ushered up to the terrace for the tea. I glance around quickly and the first thing I see is stacks of pizza waiting to be sliced up and served. I sit down with a slice and let the aroma engulf me. Then I coaxed it gently into my mouth - "Bon Voyage, mon ami.". I think the journey won't be so bad after all.   

I started in a driving school

I know...it's rather late to be learning how to drive at nearly 30. But I guess it's better late than never. Actually "never" would have done pretty fine for me. But then , you know how it is. You get married, the wife does not like riding pillion on your bike because her hair gets blown around, blah, blah, blah... So here I am in the Maruti Driving School (Mandovi Motors). They look pretty professional, I must say that for them. When I come to enroll, I am given a notepad, two booklets on driving, and a neatly drawn up schedule, all inside an envelope. The fees are reasonable too. And then, I guess you can't go very wrong if you ride along with the Maruti label.
To be frank, driving a car has never appealed to me. A car seems to be too boxed up and too cut off from the outside world to really enjoy driving in. Besides, a car is big and clumsy when you have to weave in and around crazy traffic. And dont even get me started on parking woes. A bike has always seemed to me to be the logical way to transport yourself from point A to point B. But then, as I said, things change after you become a family man. The wife has different views and you have to compromise sometimes. The wife, by the way, also took me to the driving school. After a few arguments, I might add.
On D-day, I enter a small classroom where the first theory class is to be held. A man with an impossibly broken nose walks in and proceeds to murder the Queen's language with a panache I have rarely observed before. At one point of time, he even asks us "driving students" to read out aloud from the presentation slides on the board, flooding me with fond memories of my primary school days. I am also extremely skeptical about some of the explanations he gave about traffic signals. I guess I will have to get by on my wits rather than depend on my instructors to impart me with driving skills.
Meanwhile, I wait for my next class.

Shylock the Jew

The Billy Shakespeare play "The Merchant of Venice" has always confused me. I clearly remember being confused the very first time I read this play, when I was maybe 10 or even younger. Subsequent readings have not been successful in removing my confusion. The main reason for my confusion has been Shylock's portrayal as a villain. He has been portrayed as a vile scheming character in the play. Even his pictures in all books show him as a hook-nosed evil-looking character. As for me, I have never found him to be particularly villainous.

Yes, Shylock held a grudge against Antonio. But who wouldnt? If you are cursed and spat at by a guy for no reason except for your religion, wouldn't you be mad at him? Shylock's grudge against Antonio seems to me to be the most natural thing in the world. Then Shylock is reviled in the play for lending money at interest, while Antonio does so at no interest whatsoever. I have always thought that to be particularly stupid. Shylock, by all accounts, is a businessman. He knows his ABC of economics and therefore charges interest on loans. He is a professional moneylender for crying out loud. How else is he supposed to earn a living if he distributes money like a fool? Which is exactly what Antonio does. To me it seems that Antonio urgently needs a few lessons in banking and finance. The dumb-wit is courting bankruptcy at the very least. And at worst, he is undermining all honest and knowledgeable money-lenders.

Then Shylock's daughter leaves him to elope with Antonio's friend Lorenzo. In addition, she takes away with her, besides a substantial amount of Shylock's wealth, a turquoise ring which was a gift to Shylock from his late wife. In the absence of proof to suggest otherwise, I assume that Shylock was never a bad father. And he seems to have really loved his wife. This treachery from his own blood would understandably have made Shylock even more bitter towards Antonio. (Antonio seems to have encouraged and even aided Lorenzo in his rather lustful pursuit of Shylock's daughter.)

Antonio then goes and makes the stupidest deal ever. A pound of his flesh for a loan from his recognized enemy. Really how dumb could a person get! And to make matters worse, Antonio's ships get destroyed. (I have always assumed that he had appointed his worthless friends as captains of the ships. So it was no wonder they sank.) Now here is one theme in the play which has confused me the most. Shakespeare seems to suggest that Shylock is a dark wizard or something who telepathically caused the ships to sink. I have always felt that this attitude towards Shylock was extremely bizarre to say the least. How could he be the one to blame for Antonio's ships being destroyed?



Then comes the final scene when Shylock finally gets the chance to avenge himself. I admit that Shylock's insistence on getting his "pound of flesh" is a bit undignified. But I also believe it would have been really interesting if Shylock had been allowed to hack away at Antonio. Blood and guts flying everywhere, Antonio screaming his head off, Shylock laughing maniacally! Scenes straight out of a Grindhouse movie if you ask me. Anyway such scenes were not to be and Shylock was thwarted in his quest for vengeance.



But what followed was anti-semitism at its worst. From Shylock being proclaimed an "alien" and not a citizen because of his religion to his being forced to convert to Christianity, the climax is pretty disgusting. Shylock was incidentally also forced to bequeath all his wealth to Antonio's worthless friend Lorenzo. Shylock to me was always the one to be pitied rather than punished.



Which brings us to an important question. Was Billy Shakspeare an anti-semitist? If his portrayals in "The Merchant of Venice" are anything to go by, he definitely was. First of all, he demonises a perfectly honest moneylender solely on the grounds that he was a Jew. And throughout the play, he freely voices the opinion that Jews are an inferior species of human beings not fit to live amongst his fellow Christians.



But whatever the portrayal of Shylock the Jew by old Billy, to me, he has always been an interesting and tragic character. I certainly prefer him to the vain, arrogant and extremely stupid Antonio.

She walks in beauty

I was sitting in the classroom of Class 8 Section A HFC Model School, engrossed in an algebra problem I was trying to solve. I had this urge to look up for a second and there she was. I was stunned. Every line of her slim body, every feature of her happy face seemed to radiate beauty. This was a girl I had seen every single day in school over the past 5-6 years. Somehow I had never noticed her before. I wondered how I couldn't have? She walked from the teacher's desk to her seat. My eyes were glued to her every movement till she sat down. "She walks in beauty" I sighed to myself.

Blame it on my newly acquired hormones if you will, but something very different had happened that day. To this day, I struggle to understand what it was. Over time, it became love. But I still fail to understand that sledgehammer-hit I endured on that day.

Over the next few days, I could not take my eyes off her in school. I would lean my chair back and forth to dangerous angles just to catch a glimpse of that angelic face amongst the other interfering heads. For the first time in my life, I would hate having to leave school and go home. At home, I would be impatient for the next morning to begin so I could go to school and catch a glimpse of her. Sundays would be a torture for me.

By this time, I had realised that I was very much in love. But for a shy and reserved person like me, our school was a bad place to fall in love in. If a person like me was so much as seen talking to a girl, he would be teased and tortured mercilessly. Even without that danger, I wasn't exactly the smoothest talker around girls. Girls, especially beautiful ones, would unnerve me. I had a distinct stammer too at that time. And at times like these, my stammer would become so bad that I would literally be rendered speechless.

But I knew that if I wished to continue living, I would have to speak to her. I had a friend at that time who wasn't quite as bad as me around girls. I decided to pin my hopes on him. In our school, we used to have a seating arrangement where the students would be arranged in four columns of about 7-8 rows. The rows in each column would move up and down alternatively every day so that no student remained in the same seat for more than a day. I waited for the day when my friend and me would happen to be in the adjacent row to her's. I pretended that I had forgotten to bring along my pencil and asked my friend if he had an extra one (having verified earlier that he did not). I then casually told him to ask her if she had an extra pencil. He did so and I got the pencil. That pencil was the ice-breaker between us. The pencil gave me further conversational opportunities. The conversation was mostly carried out between my friend and her, but I managed to drop in a few words of my own.

From that day onwards, I spoke to her occasionally - a few words here and there. I would still keep stealing glances at her during classes. She would see me occasionally looking at her and would smile at me. I would do my best to pretend that our eyes had met completely accidentally. I was still a very very poor conversationalist. I actually would rehearse my future conversations with her at home in front of the mirror. Of course, once I stood in front of her, I would panic and more often than not blabber something hardly coherent.

And by this time, the teasing from my classmates had started in right earnest. I suppose most guys would not have minded a great deal. But I did mind, terribly so. Being very shy and reserved, I just could not take the teasing easily. Many a time, I resolved that I would not speak to her again. But staying away from her was even more of a torture. I continued to flit between the two horns of this dilemma for the next couple of years.

I think that by this time, she had started liking me too. She probably even expected me to declare my love to her. But I just did not have the guts to do so. I would be racked by self-doubt. She was the most beautiful girl in school. What was I? Why would someone like her even think about being with someone like me? On hindsight, those were stupid thoughts. But at that time, they seemed very reasonable to me.

I would pass out of Model School without ever having declared my love to her, a rather damp ending to this tale I suppose. 12 years have now passed since my last day in school. But even today, my memories of Model School and in fact my memories of Namrup are synonymous with my memories of the girl I watched walking from the teacher's desk to her seat. And in my memories, she still walks in beauty.

The Atheist

The party of people gathered around the table had just finished their supper. As is usual in such parties, the focus shifted from the food to conversation. The gathering broke up into groups and sat down on the numerous armchairs and sofas.

Mrs. Singh, Mr. Kumar and Mr.___ sat down together in a corner of the room with their steaming cups of tea.

Mrs.Singh asked Mr. Kumar "What are your plans for next weekend, Mr.Kumar? I am planning to go to Thirupathi. Maybe I could interest you in coming along?"

Mr. Kumar scratched his stubble and said. "I was kind of booked for the weekend but I ought to make a concession for a spiritual trip. After all, where would we be without our spiritualism, right?"

Mrs. Singh smiled appreciatively and turned her attention to Mr.___. "And you Mr.___, wouldn't you like to come along and bow down in front of the Holy One?"

Mr.___ smiled at Mrs. Singh's expression and replied "No thanks, but I am an atheist. Besides, had I even not been an atheist, I am sure the Almighty would understand if I did not wish to bow down before him."

Mrs. Singh and Mr. Kumar almost dropped their cups of tea in horror. Mrs. Singh was the first one to recover. "An atheist, Mr.___?! A good man like you! I don't believe it."

Mr. Kumar, more forthcoming, shook his head deprecatingly and said in a righteous tone. "Mr.___, do you realise what a bad example you are setting your kids? If everyone thought like you, the world might as well cease existing. For a godless world is as good as doomed."

Mr.___ did not like Mr. Kumar's righteous reproaches but stayed calm."Mr.___ I thank you for your concern for my kids. But please rest assured that I am even more concerned for them than you are. And I have no intention of preaching my beliefs to them. It is best for them that they make up their own minds about what to believe and what not to believe. All I can teach them is to think for themselves and not be swayed by what people want them to think."

Mrs. Singh cried in an almost pleading voice. "But think about what you are saying Mr.___. Kids cannot decide between good and bad. It's our responsibility to guide them in the right direction. Without us telling them what to do, they would definitely go astray."

Mr.___ smiled and said "Mrs. Singh, I do not believe that kids are too naive to decide between good and bad. Of course, they will make mistakes initially. But they will learn eventually. Age is often foolish when it underestimates youth. Isn't it downright arrogant of us to assume that we are wiser than our kids? Yes we have seen more of life. But more often than not, how we perceive what we see is governed by the limited viewpoint of our society and our times. So age need not necessarily make us wiser. Rather than me telling my kids what to believe, they would be much better served if they made up their own minds. Let them decide for themselves on the existence of God."

Mrs. Singh, now clearly disturbed, said. "But aren't you scared as to what kind of people they would grow up to be if they did not believe in God? Aren't you scared for your own soul, Mr.____?"

Mr.___'s smile now became wider. "I am not worried for my soul, Mrs. Singh, if there is any such thing. Mrs. Singh and Mr. Kumar, both of you have known me for several years now. And in all these years have you ever seen or heard me do or say anything remotely evil? I believe in good and I do or say only what I believe in. Yes, I am not a god-fearing person. But why do I have to be a god-fearing person to be good? Does it mean that only the fear of retribution from God scares people into being good? If it is so, are these people really good? I believe that belief in God and belief in good are two totally unrelated things. One can very easily be one without being the other. And we can see it everyday around us - so called god-fearing people who carry on the most heinous crimes against society."

Mr. Kumar who had been quiet for some time now flared up."What you are saying is utter rubbish! Everyone believes in God. Why should you be any different? Why are you needlessly trying to be a rebel?"

Mr.___ replied in an even tone. "Mr. Kumar, losing your temper with me is really quite unnecessary. I assure you that I am not trying to be a rebel. I would never go around advertising myself as an atheist. It is not an issue which I consider to be of any great significance. I know that you and Mrs. Singh are ardent believers. But I would never dream of questioning you on your beliefs. What you believe in is solely your concern. Likewise, what I believe in is solely my concern. My beliefs are not hurting anyone. Then why would you wish to impose your opinion on me? My atheism is a purely an opinion, to which I am perfectly entitled. By no stretch of imagination is it a rebellion against anyone or anything."

Mrs. Singh, now much calmer, said. "Come Mr. Kumar, It is true that Mr.___ is perfectly entitled to his opinion and he is not forcing you to change your opinion. Let us finish this discussion amicably right now."

She then glanced up at the clock hanging over the mantlepiece and exclaimed. "It's already 11! My! how the time flies. I really must get going now. I wish both of you gentlemen a very good night. And Mr. Kumar, please do not quarrel with Mr.___. Goodnight."

She then got up and walked away to take leave of the hosts.