Apart from the Pandavas and the Kaurava brothers, one character, who is spoken of in the Mahabharata is Karnan. Ajay Entertainers’ ‘Karnan,’ with which the Mythological Drama Festival jointly organised by Brahma Gana Sabha and Parthasarathy Swami Sabha, opened did bear resemblance to the popular film that had Sivaji Ganesan don the role, but it also had some novel twists (script — Kavignar Poovai Daya).
Sakuni wants to destroy the Kauravas, to avenge the death of his brothers, imprisoned and starved by Dritarashtra! He uses the naïve Duryodana to carry out his plans. The last few decades of politics in India have seen shadowy powers behind the throne, and through the story of the warring cousins, the play shows us the dangers of such manipulation, with contemporary references. There were some poignant moments as when Draupadi calls attention to her sorry state, and says: “I wanted to marry Arjuna, but was forced to marry all the five Pandavas. Is it something to be proud of?” None of the brothers has an answer, and Kunti conveniently says, “Let bygones be bygones!” Duryodhana (Natana Sabapathi) kept bobbing up and down on his toes — an annoying piece of overacting. Jagadeesan, as Sakuni, essayed his role with aplomb — exuding warmth when his nephews were around and spitting venom the moment their backs were turned. The sound effects were an auditory assault. The play, directed by Mallik Raj, was an engaging presentation, but needs a lot of editing.
A scene from the Tamil play ‘Karnan’ staged at Narada Gana Sabha, Chennai
In Tiruchi R.R. Sabha’s ‘Pandavi,’ the Kurukshetra war is over, and the Pandavas rule over five separate kingdoms. Kunti’s life is peaceful, and she proudly tells Krishna that there is not the slightest whiff of disagreement among her sons. Krishna decides that her ego needs to be deflated a bit. He visits each of the Pandavas and tells them that it is not fair that Kunti should always be in Yudishtira’s kingdom. Why shouldn’t she stay with her other sons, who are just as affectionate as the eldest? And a quarrel ensues among the sons, with each of them wanting Kunti to make her home with him!
Detached attachment
Neatly scripted (Tiruchi George), the play stressed the importance of detached attachment, and therefore had a modern resonance. The play also posed the question — do parents really want to be with their children in their old age? They may want to be independent and spend their time in solitude and contemplation, and not drawn into remain caught up in the hurly burly of life till the end. Isn’t that why Vanaprastha was prescribed as one of the four stages of life — a time to distance oneself from familial ties and prepare for a graceful exit from this world?
While the play was well executed (direction N. Sekar), the comedy scenes did not fit in with the story, and impeded the flow of the narrative. Mohamed Masthan as Bhima brought out the volatile temperament of the Pandava. The way Vinothini as Krishna used her hands and shook her head made her seem more like someone dancing than acting in a play. R.R. Sabha, Tiruchi, has its own troupe, and only sabha members can act in their plays. When a group of theatre enthusiasts began to stage plays in Tiruchi in the early 1900s, they realised that in order to sustain a troupe, it would be necessary to start a sabha, and thus was born R.R. Sabha, which is into its 103rd year. “Pandavi” was R.R. Sabha’s first outing in Chennai, and one hopes to see more plays from this troupe in future.
A scene from the Tamil play ‘Pandavi’ staged at Narada Gana Sabha, Chennai
The last play in the series was Asvattama enacted by K.R.S. Creations (script Sri Kavi, production co-ordination K.R.S. Kumar). Asvattama is a child of Destiny. Reared with fondness by Drona and his wife Kripi, Asvattama gets sucked into a vortex of revenge. Drona is insulted by his friend, whose son Drishtadhyumna is prophesied to kill Drona. The prophecy comes true, when Drishtadhyumna cuts off an unarmed Drona’s head. It is now time for Asvattama to take revenge. In the fratricidal Kurukshetra war, there is no one who does not suffer losses.
Every dot connects to give an overall picture of how everyone marches to the tune of Fate. Every death happens as determined by the unseen hand of Providence, and the dialogue in delightful chaste Tamil brought out the inevitability of the turn of events in the lives of the Pandavas and the Kauravas, and those associated with them. And through the events in the Mahabharata, the play also touched an emotional chord in the viewer — don’t we also often fight a losing battle against Fate?
K.R.Selvaraj as Asvattama turned in a good performance, although some of his gestures — striking his thigh, for example — were exaggerated. Drona’s bow being kicked out of the way, even while Kripi is mourning her husband’s death was a glaring slip up. The stage hands had not removed the bow from the previous battle scene, but could the actors not have just have picked it up and put it away?
A story from the epic with lengthy dialogue calls for an excellent memory. It is to the credit of the team that there were no forgotten lines and the enunciation was clear too. Shadow effects were used to show the war scenes of charging horses and elephants, and Chithan and Mano deserve a pat on the back for their efforts.
This play was staged about 30 years ago by K.P. Rudrapathy’s APN Fine Arts, and was a huge success, running to 300 shows. The troupe plans to revive Anjaneyar another play that was popular in the 90s.
