There is wheat all over the floor as you enter the hall. It presses your feet and hurts. As you settle down you enjoy the impression it creates on your skin. From far, the whole room looks like a large stretch of agricultural plain land. “The idea was to make it look like Punjab where the sight of wheat plantations is common,” says Abhishek Thapar, who recently presented the show, My Home at the Intersection at Space Untitled, Bangalore.
The play is an intersection of a family’s story with contested histories of the State of Punjab. It pictures different narratives that trace their origins to the time of Sikh riots, 1984. Intimate stories of a family are juxtaposed against the large-scale historical developments that occurred three decades ago. The play is written and presented by Abhishek Thapar, a postgraduate from DAS Theatre, Amsterdam.
The presentation is unique in the sense that it is based on real events and the characters presented narrate their own stories. Abhishek has involved his whole family in the project for which they all had to work for about one and a half years.
Excerpts from an interview with Abhishek Thapar:
It seems to have all started with a jar of pickle. How did pickle trigger the storyline?
Memories are very much ingrained in our senses. A taste often has a story behind it. Moreover, pickle is a unique preparation that connects people to their roots even generations later and provides the space to revisit in time. This pickle brings me the memories of my grandfather who used to prepare lemon pickles using seedless lemons from a tree in front of our old house.
Pickle is what transports me to my childhood days -- I used to drop my little hand into the container and savour the pickle as soon as I came from school. The pickle was such a favourite that I even used quarrel with my sister over it. These memories led me to think of what happened later. We were forced to relocate. That’s how the project got initiated.
You play with identities in your story. Sikh and Hindu. Militant and Police etc.
Yes, that’s how it is, the identities merge so often that you cannot make clear distinctions between them. I say in the play, ‘my grandfather though born as a Hindu was raised as a Sikh.’ Thus, identities get meaning according to the circumstances and one cannot seal them forever. Identities are quite fluid.
Spreading wheat grains on the floor was more than artistic. Can you explain?
Walking on the wheat grains is both fun and painful. Likewise, the memories of our old house in Moga, a town close to Ludhiana carry similar emotions -- pleasant at the same time dreadful.
Wheat grains also provide scope to play with during the performance. From far they look like people. So once I take a granule, place it in the structure of my old house and say, ‘This is where I was born’ and in other instance, I push thousands of grains towards the Golden Temple representing the attack by soldiers of the Indian army.
The sounds that these granules produce also have tremendous potential that can artistically aid in a theatrical performance.
Has it been a cathartic experience for you and your family?
Partly yes. But I’m more interested in looking at multiple narratives. When things get fixed, there is no exploration of truth. Sometimes, it is difficult to point out who is terrorist, police or a militant as all of them would be acting in each other’s capacities. Therefore, the openness to explore multiple viewpoints becomes crucial.
As a storyteller, puppeteer or as a theatre artiste, I wish to generate knowledge for which walking through these complicated mazes, blurred spaces and uncertain paths is necessary.
What is the role of fiction in bringing out these narratives?
Fiction is essential as it adds a slice of playfulness which brightens the otherwise gloomy space for stories to pour in.
Do you think an experiment like yours is a way to heal wounds of the past?
These kind of experiments in a way showcase and share bitter stories of people. The process, joy and the satisfaction of getting listeners to share their stories might help recover from tragic events.
However, it depends on how deep the wounds are, the current political climate and whether they are willing to open it up for something of this sort.
