It seems a bit coincidental that I meet Nandita Dinesh exactly at the same time as Kashmir is on the boil again. The dim cool room with the sounds of traffic drifting in from the open window is worlds removed from our topic of discussion: theatre and conflict, with the focus on Dinesh’s work Chronicles from Kashmir .
“The objective from the beginning was to look beyond simplistic understandings of war and develop a theatrical piece that communicated the complexities of the situation so that neither side is demonised or glorified,” explains Dinesh. She began working in Kashmir in 2012, around the same time as she started her PhD at the University of Cape Town, South Africa. “I’ve been on two parallel tracks since then,” she smiles. “There’s my work as educator — I teach at the United World College, New Mexico — and there’s the work in Kashmir."
Chronicles from Kashmir draws on narratives from civilians, the armed forces personnel and those who had joined militant groups. “Initially a lot of it was archival research. Then we started meeting people on the ground and trying to see which were the stories that were less likely to get out.”
The response, she says, was a mix of cynicism and suspicion from all sections. “The armed forces wanted to know what a theatre artiste was doing here. The civilians and former militants wanted to know if I was an Indian agent.” Even with her colleagues, it took almost two years to win their trust. “Given the history and the various betrayals they’ve been through, one can’t blame them,” she rationalises. “Lack of lived experience is another factor, as is what they perceive as my Indian identity. At the end of the day, I am an outsider.”
As the work started to come together, Dinesh and her colleagues decided to showcase it theatrically through the medium of time. “So we crafted a 24-hour immersive experience in which an audience member would live in the play for a day and get the different perspectives.”
From the rehearsal of 2017’s performance of Information for/from Outsiders: Chronicles from Kashmir in Kamshet, Maharashtra
The play was shown in “bits and pieces in Kashmir but we realised it’s not for Kashmiris but for those outside.” So last year, Dinesh and her colleagues had a performance scheduled near Pune but were stopped by the police.
“We never knew what was wrong. We invited them to watch but they didn’t stay for the whole thing. That was a concern because they wouldn’t have got the balanced perspective; instead they would have seen the point of view of just that segment.”
Right now her focus is on publishing the script. A July launch in Mumbai is being planned as is a digital archive. She’s also been in touch with institutions to host the play but many felt that ‘this is not the right time to speak about Kashmir’.”
She would also like the play to be taught in schools, colleges or “any learning environment”. “I don’t remember learning about Kashmir in school and, if young people could discuss the issues through the medium of theatre, there is potential to heighten people’s empathy to what is happening there. But then given that Kashmir gets such a visceral emotional reaction from people, we’re not sure how to take it forward. I may have to wait till the climate is more relaxed and open.”
Dinesh’s interest in the use of theatre in war and conflict zones came from her work in Uganda, Rwanda, Guatemala and Northern Ireland. She studied how theatre was used in these places to talk about war and for post-conflict reconciliation. “Most of these stories are horrific and dark. But a part of me wonders: you show the trauma and suffering and at the end you say, ‘oh but it’s not like this any more.’ It’s too neat. If that were so, we’d all be fine, there’d be no more conflict.”
Isn’t there an aspect of catharsis, I ask. Depends on the individual, doesn’t it, she asks in return, adding that what could be cathartic for one may be more traumatic for another. “In Rwanda, I was at a play about the genocide and many audience members had to be removed by the Red Cross workers because they were crying uncontrollably and screaming. I asked a friend if it were not irresponsible to recreate these horrors for people who have lived through them. He felt it would help them let go the baggage of the past. I’m not so sure.”
In the next five years, Dinesh hopes to get more narratives from Pakistan-Occupied Kashmir, Gilgit Baltistan, Jammu and Ladakh, if the visas work out, she says wryly. “The idea is to create an extensive chronicling of the region and its competing complexities.”
She is also researching different education systems and looking at history textbooks of different boards to see how she can work within the existing curricula. “We want something beyond the performance. This is not a piece for commercial festivals or the stage alone. The question we’re facing — and for which we don’t have answers as yet — is how do we create a programme that works and how to measure how it works.”
She is quite clear that she’s in this for the long haul. “I’ve been doing this for six years now. If I leave now, it will reinforce the narrative of another Indian who showed up, showed solidarity for a few years, listened to their stories, wrote a book and left. For me, it’s something more than the book. Something that keeps pulling me back.”
From the rehearsal of 2017’s performance of Information for/from Outsiders: Chronicles from Kashmir in Kamshet, Maharashtra
Theatre scene in Kashmir
I work with one theatre company because it made more sense to do so but there are many others. Theatre took a hit in 1990s and there is still some debate about whether Islam allows theatre but there is a very vibrant visual arts, poetry and literature scene. Of course, it is far easier for men to be involved so my interactions have been very male dominated. What’s hard to escape is the sense of hopelessness that pervades. Given the recent events, it’ll only get worse.
