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.
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.
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