Enter the playwright

Theatre veteran M R Lingam has been writing and producing Tamil stage plays since 1960

June 30, 2017 04:23 pm | Updated 04:23 pm IST

Theatre has been the lifeblood of M R Lingam’s career for several decades.

Theatre has been the lifeblood of M R Lingam’s career for several decades.

It’s impossible not to think of Shakespeare’s monologue ‘All the world’s a stage’, when M R Lingam speaks. Since 1960, the veteran playwright has been sustaining himself and a small troupe of players through theatre. “Had I specialised in love stories, perhaps my works would have been plagiarised by the film industry. But because I have written mostly on social issues and Gandhian ideals, that honour has evaded me so far,” he jokes.

With the exception of a few troupes, Tamil drama is in the doldrums these days due to a lack of patronage.

Despite this, stalwarts like Mr Lingam remain steadfast in their love for the stage.

“Theatre is the mother of all performing arts. Producers often cut costs by trimming the cast, but this affects the final storyline. Shoddy production values are the prime reason for the decline of Tamil theatre,” says Mr Lingam.

Early debut

Born in April 1944, in Kathalapatti village (near Karur), Mr Lingam was influenced by his father Rajarathinam, a teacher who used to play royal roles in koothu folk dramas.

But life was to take a dramatic turn for real very soon. Mr Lingam’s father passed away in 1955, shortly after he had been transferred to Musiri. “I was in Class 5, and we decided to shift to Srirangam to be near relatives,” recounts Mr Lingam.

Resuming his studies after a year at the Srirangam Boys’ High School, the young Mr Lingam was writing poetry and short skits by Class 7. “My teachers got very impressed and started to act in my plays.” His quality of writing marked him out early. “My earliest work focused on social issues – I wrote a lot on women’s rights and empowerment,” he says. In 1960, the gifted 16-year-old premiered his very first play Poovindrum Manamillai at the Vasudeva Mandram hall in Srirangam. Soon, he was staging a play every 3 months. Manvasal , Oru Manakovil , Kanneer Pandhal , Kalaivani , Malar Veedu , Oonjal Manam , Karottum Kandasami , Kalyana Malai , and Idhayam Sumaithangi were among the plays that made Mr Lingam a name to reckon with on stage.

“These were big productions for those days, and I had formed a troupe called Orungamai Nadaga Mandram with around 15 cast members. It was a heady time for a young playwright like me,” says Mr Lingam.

Dreams of glory

In 1963, the play Kanneer Pandhal , engrossed the attention of its chief guest, the barrister and press baron C P Adithanar, who stayed on until the curtain call. “I received a lot of praise for this play, and many of the guest speakers that day said that I should soon be heading to the film industry in Madras,” says Mr Lingam.

With his confidence thus buoyed, the young playwright decided to seek his fortune in cinema with the help of politician and producer R M Veerappan.

But it was clearly not the cakewalk he had expected. “As Veerappan told me early on, there were hundreds of talented people like me vying for a ticket to stardom in Madras, so I would have to wait for at least 2 years to make some sort of a start,” says Mr Lingam.

While he tried his luck in films as a lyricist and assistant scriptwriter (he has worked with Chitralaya Gopu in Shanthi Nilayam, Galatta Kalyanam and Nil Gavani Kadhali ), he started a new drama company called Simka Arts Theatre in Madras, and put up 16 productions in Madras.

Ilayaraja, who had yet to make his debut in films, composed the music for Mr Lingam’s detective play Karottum Kandasami in 1969.

Patience wasn’t the only requirement to get the big break … there was the money too. The income from a plantation in Kolladakarai village helped him to produce plays in Madras.

“The 1.5 acre farm had been bequeathed to me by the landlord of a house we used to stay in, in Musiri, as he was childless. I put all the earnings from the farm into my productions. So I never really felt penury in the 5 years that I spent in Madras,” says Mr Lingam.

New beginning

His mother’s weakening health forced him to return to Srirangam for good in 1971. With his film dreams packed away, it was time to earn a living. “We started a bicycle business in Srirangam, again, using the plantation’s income,” says Mr Lingam. “And then my marriage was arranged. So it was a time of new responsibilities.”

But he still heard the siren song of theatre. He started the Yogachitra Fine Arts Drama Company. In 1974, Mr Lingam staged the play Oonjal Manam starring all the employees of the Srirangam municipality to celebrate the centenary of the Town Hall. “The play ran for a week, and we had then-Chief Minister K Kamaraj as chief guest. I consider that the high point of my career,” he says.

Act Two

With 60 original stories on a host of social issues from the 1960s to the very modern Clean India Campaign, Mr Lingam says he has written it all. “My only dream now is to popularise my play Vaaimaye Vellum (renamed as Gandhi Gramam from 2007), which shows how the right upbringing can lead to an honest society,” he says.

Mr Lingam spends his days helping indigent artistes apply for pension from the Central and State Government authorities. “I’m glad there is still some space for folk theatre in the temple festivals. For the past 30 years at the Thillampatti village, I have done plays for the Thiruvellarai Perumal Temple festival,” he says.

Most of his plays are now performed in villages like Thirupanchili, Theerapalayam, Vadikkampatti and Poonampalayam. “Many actors have emerged from these places, and I feel proud to have been a part of their growth,” says Mr Lingam.

On the importance of theatre, he says, “If the play Harischandra had not existed, we wouldn’t have got a figure like Mahatma Gandhi, who was influenced by it in childhood. But it is not enough to dress up like Gandhi. We have to follow his way of life.”

Mr Lingam confesses to wondering what would have happened had he chased his cinema dream. “I would have been famous in Madras. But then nobody would have known me here,” he says with a smile.

0 / 0
Sign in to unlock member-only benefits!
  • Access 10 free stories every month
  • Save stories to read later
  • Access to comment on every story
  • Sign-up/manage your newsletter subscriptions with a single click
  • Get notified by email for early access to discounts & offers on our products
Sign in

Comments

Comments have to be in English, and in full sentences. They cannot be abusive or personal. Please abide by our community guidelines for posting your comments.

We have migrated to a new commenting platform. If you are already a registered user of The Hindu and logged in, you may continue to engage with our articles. If you do not have an account please register and login to post comments. Users can access their older comments by logging into their accounts on Vuukle.