ABSTRACT

TAMASHA: PEOPLE'S THEATRE OF
MAHARASHTRA STATE, INDIA

By

Tevia Abrams

This study was designed to acquaint Western readers with

Tamasha, the folk theatre form of Maharashtra State, India. It at-

tempted to trace the: tristory of the form and its development, its
stylistic and formal ‘features, its playwrights, performing artists,
and sample script materials, and it focused attention upon the use
of Tamasha by social and political groups for propaganda purposes.

To the writer's knowledge, no general study of this kind is available

in print in the English language apart from brief accounts in isolated

chapters of books and in periodicals. Little material exists even in

the Marathi language, a fact explained by the intellectual neglect of,

and disdain for, Tamasha which continued down to the l9SOs.

Research was conducted in Maharashtra during a nine-month

period ending July, 197l. It was based on library materials, news-

paper clippings, personal interviews, observations of productions,

mvla study of sample scripts in translation.

This study, completed in 1973, was limited to a consideration

ofhisUny, form, practitioners, and uses. While certain conclusions

 

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Tevia Abrams

were arrived at, it was felt that there were obvious limitations
hmmsed by lack of first-hand knowledge of the Marathi language. Any
proper critical evaluation of the growing body of Tamasha literature
must therefore await the hands of competent Marathi scholars.

On the basis of the materials studied and analyzed, the
following observations and conclusions were made:

l. Tamasha emerged as a discrete folk theatre form in the
seventeenth century, and it flourished largely outside the prevailing
Hindu devotional tradition. More recently, it survived mid-twentieth
century experiments in ideological propaganda without gross distortion
of form.

2. Some of the early vigor and spontaneity of Tamasha was
lost due to the effects of rapid social change, economic hardships
among the artists, growing State Government regulation and censorship,
and the challenge posed by the developing mass media.

3. From its earliest beginnings, Tamasha reflected Maharashtrian
society, especially its secular features, in a manner which helped
audiences to deal with their experiences of social upheavals, including
changes in social, political, and economic conditions stemming from
the modernization process. This observation was seen as the reason
for Tamasha's continued strength.

4. Although the form originated in rural settings, and
featured unsophisticated or "raw“ entertainments, a more refined

sophisticated version called Loknatya, or people's theatre, developed

'hithe mid—twentieth century which appealed to the growing urban

 

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Tevia Abrams

middle—cl ass . This has served to overcome neglect of Tamasha among
the Marathi middle classes, including the intelligentsia.

5. Among the implications drawn for Western theatre practi-
tioners and scholars was a suggested experimental transposition of

some of the formal elements of Tamasha.

TAMASHA: PEOPLE'S THEATRE OF
MAHARASHTRA STATE, INDIA

By

Tevia Abrams

A DISSERTATION

Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Department of Theatre

1974

Copyright by
TEVIA ABRAMS

1974

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I wish to thank Dr. Farley P. Richmond, advisor and chairman
of my dissertation committee, and Mr. Harish Trivedi, former fellow
student at this university, for assistance in the formulation of this
study, as well as the other members of my committee--Dr. Randall
Harrison, Dr. Colby Lewis and Dr. E. C. Reynolds.

Research for the dissertation was made possible by The Canada
Council, which provided nearly three years of financial support in
the form of renewable doctoral fellowships.

I also wish to express indebtedness to the many generous
persons I met in India who gave so much of their time and knowledge
that I might share their appreciation of the Tamasha art form. From
a list of artists, scholars, journalists, government officials, and
non-professional individuals, special mention must be made of
Miss Durga Bhagvat, anthropologist and sociologist, who helped me
to form an intellectual framework for my subject; Bombay journalist
Vinayak Bhave, for his personal guidance and his monumental store-
house of knowledge about the cultural history of Maharashtra and the
current state of the art of Tamasha; Shahir (poet) Sable, leader of
one of the better-known Tamasha troupes, whose personal interest in
the study provided strong support during the early, unsteady weeks
in India; Rajabhau Thitey, Poona journalist, whose work with the

association of performing artists (Marathi Tamasha Parishad) and

 

11'

whose private newspaper files were of inestimable help; Mr. G. P.
Vaidya. my enthusiastic companion on evening rounds of Tamasha per-

formances in Poona, and his daughter, Nilima, who served as secretary

and translator through most of the research period.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

LIST OF APPENDICES

INTRODUCTION

PART I. BACKGROUND TO TAMASHA

Chapter

I.

DESCRIPTIVE FEATURES OF TAMASHA .

II. HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE DEVELOPMENT OF TAMASHA
III. THE STATE OF THE ART TODAY
IV. THE POLITICS OF TAMASHA
PART 2. TAMASHA AS A TRADITIONAL MEDIUM OF MASS
COMMUNICATION
V. EARLY EXPERIMENTS IN PROPAGANDA .
VI. USE OF TAMASHA IN STATE GOVERNMENT INFORMATION CAMPAIGNS
VII. USE OF TAMASHA IN THE T971 NATIONAL ELECTION CAMPAIGN
CONCLUSIONS .
BIBLIOGRAPHY
APPENDIX .

 

iv

Page

ii

ll
50
76
133

152
181
201

209
218
235

LIST OF APPENDICES

 

 

 

 

Appendix

A. Glossary

B. A Sample Propaganda Tamasha Script For Government
Development Programs .

C. A Sample Propaganda Tamasha Script For Election Publicity:
We Must Win This Time . . . . . . .

D. Scenes From a Modern "Sophisticated” Tamasha: Katha
Akalechya Kandyachi ("A Tale of the Union of
Intelligence”) . . . . . . . . .

E. Shahir Sable's Muktanatya, or Free-Form Folk Play:
Yamarajyat Ek Ratra (”One Night in Hell”) .

F. Shahirs of Maharashtra .

G. Rules of the Stage Performances Scrutiny Board, Government
of Maharashtra . . . . . . .

H. Photographs

I. Plot Outlines of Tamasha Vags (Folk Dramas) .

J. Historical Note on Maharashtra

 

Page
236

24]

275

297

326
371

378
386
414
426

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

INTRODUCTION

Tamasha is the principle folk theatre form of Maharashtra
State, India. From its beginnings in the late sixteenth and early
seventeenth centuries, it has achieved great popularity among the
rural masses in the Deccan region, which includes the present State
of Maharashtra and the northern part of Mysore State. Authoritative
estimates claim there are some l0,000 Tamasha artists performing in
more than 500 itinerant Tamasha troupes today. Tamasha troupes are
of two varieties: sangeet-baaris (song troupes), which specialize

in song-and-dance entertainments; and dholki-baaris (folk drama

 

troupes), which offer more substantial theatre fare that includes
dramatic presentations (vags) as well as songs and dances. It is

characteristic of Tamasha today that the sangeet-baaris provide a

 

bawdy rural (“raw”) form of entertainment which is called assal (real,
or true), and that the dholki-baaris present a more sophisticated and
refined presentation (banavat, or artificial), which is now commonly

referred to as loknatya, or people's theatre.

Statement of Purpose

 

The purpose of this study is to describe the characteristics
of Tamasha and to discuss the utilization of the form by social and
political organizations. It will provide a cursory history of the

form amiits development, and acquaint the reader with Tamasha's

stylistic and formal features, its performing artists, playwrights,

and a sampling of contemporary and recent script materials.

Justification of the Study

The selection of Tamasha as a subject for study was determined
by the fact that, although it is an intrinsically interesting and
very popular form among both rural and urban audiences,1 little has
been written about it in the Western World.

To my knowledge there are no English-language materials
covering the subject and scope of this study, with the exception
of isolated chapters or paragraphs in overviews of Indian folk

theatre,2

a number of articles in periodicals, and clippings from

Bombay and Poona newspapers. Marathi source materials, which were
consulted in translation or with the assistance of informants, are
relatively few in number, and this may be due to traditional intel-
lectual disdain for the low-class Tamasha form. With the exception

of published collections of popular Tamasha-style love songs and

heroic ballads, and some mention in overviews of Maharashtrian or

 

1The popularity of Tamasha will be established in succeeding
chapters of this study.

2See especially the chapter on Tamasha in Balwant Gargi's
Folk Theatre of India (New York: Theatre Arts Books, l962);
Hemenchanath Das Gupta, The Indian Stage, Vol. III (Calcutta: M.K.
Das Gupta, l944), pp. l87-232; and the Marathi Natya Parishad (Marathi
Dramatic Association) work, The Marathi Theatre: l843 to l960
(Bombay: Popular Prakashan, l96l), pp. 2, 6.

 

 

 

Indian theatre, the literature on Tamasha may be said to date from
Independence, in 1947.3

What is especially noteworthy about Tamasha is that it has
been utilized in recent years by propagandists in efforts to bring
about social and political reforms in Maharashtra.4 In this respect,
Tamasha may be compared to the gatga_folk theatre form of Bengal
State, which is reported to have been used for the same purpose--
most particularly on behalf of the Communist cause.5

A knowledge of Tamasha should provide Western theatre scholars,
playwrights, and producers with new experimental techniques, con-
ventions, and formal elements for enlivening the theatrical scene in
the First World.

It is also hoped that this study will stimulate Marathi
scholars and theatre practitioners in the development of critical

evaluation of the growing body of Tamasha literature--something

which is still lacking, according to respected authorities.

 

3The reader is referred to the bibliography of this study for
listings of Marathi materials.

4The use of Tamasha by the Truthseekers' non-Brahmin movement
in the l9205, the Communist and Socialist experiments of the 19405,
and the present-day use of Tamasha in election campaigns and in State
Government development support programs, are cited here as examples
of such manipulation. Part 2 of this study is devoted to further
discussion of the subject.

5A. J. Gunawarden, "Theatre as a Weapon: An Interview with
Utpal Datt," The Drama Review, Vol. l5, No. 3 (New York, Spring,
l97l), pp. 225-237. See also Sambu Mitra, “Drama in India Today,"
Cultural Forum, Vol. l5, No. 3 (n.p., May, l964), p. 9.

 

Definitions

A number of definitions are required at the outset. While
the origins of the word "Tamasha" will be discussed in Chapter I,
the term will be used throughout the study to mean the most popular
folk theatre of the State of Maharashtra, which emerged in the
seventeenth century, and which still survives today.

There are two main kinds of Tamasha troupes: (l) sangeet-
933513 (song troupes), which specialize in popular song-and-dance

entertainments; and (2) dholki-baaris (folk drama troupes), which

 

offer more substantial theatre fare that includes dramatic presenta-
tions as well as songs and dances.
A twentieth century addition to the traditional varieties of

Tamasha troupes (sangeet—baaris and dholki-baaris) is the kala pathak,

 

 

 

or cultural squad, which is now accepted as the designation for any

Tamasha troupe, usually a dholki-baari, engaged in social or political

 

propaganda.6 Kala-pathaks will therefore be considered as a sub-

 

category of dholki—baaris.

 

It is also necessary to distinguish between two kinds of
Tamasha productions: (l) Raw Tamasha, which is expressed in Marathi
as assal (real or true); and (2) Sophisticated, or refined Tamasha,
expressed in Marathi as banavat (not real, artificial), or more
popularly as loknatya (people's theatre). ”Raw Tamasha” is defined
as that rural strain of folk entertainment which derives from the

original impulses present in the early historical development of the

 

6See Part 2 of this study for full accounts of the work of
the kala pathaks.

 

form, and which is characterized by such descriptive terms as ashljl_
(bawdy) and vishayasakla (sensual). The "sophisticated Tamasha" is
a recent refinement of the form which has resulted in a more urbane
and a wittier (if tamer) entertainment.

The expression "raw Tamasha" will therefore be used in this
study when referring to aspects of productions by the lower or
backward social classes destined for rural peasants in villages, or
for working-class audiences in the cities. The language, songs, and
dances are characteristically bawdy, lewd, and lascivious, and women
and children, as well as members of upper-caste society, and the
middle-class in general, do not, as a rule, attend productions.7

"Sophisticated Tamasha," on the other hand, will be used in
this study to cover a more theatrically substantial and socially
acceptable entertainment, performed in modern indoor theatres of
urban centres, and on outdoor stages in the larger and more prosperous
villages. The banavat (sophisticated) variety of Tamasha is often
referred to as loknatya (folk or people's theatre), replacing in
word but not in form, the art of Tamasha.

“Propaganda (prachar) Tamashas” are of the ”sophisticated"
variety. They were originally created by socially or politically

committed performers, working in kala pathaks (cultural squads), in

 

 

7The nature of ”raw" Tamasha and its relationship to the
tastes of the lower social and economic classes is discussed by
V. K. Joshi, in his Loknatyachi Parampara (”The Tradition of Folk
Theatre"), (Poona: Thokal Prakashan, l96l), pp. l0, l4, l7, l9, and
passim. Among authorities interviewed on this point, I would cite
agreement by the anthropologist and sociologist Durga Bhagvat,
private interview, Bombay, January l0, l97l.

 

 
 

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a conscious effort to change public opinion, or to spread awareness,
or affect behaviour in a desired direction. Since Independence (1947),
prachar Tamashas are being increasingly supported by government
agencies and political parties on a paid professional basis.

"Folk media" is used interchangeably in this study with
"traditional media" to express the notion that when folk theatre
forms are used for propaganda, they serve as live and direct channels
of communication; in contrast to the "modern media" or the "modern
mass media" which serve as indirect (print or electronic) channels
of communication. Because some propagandistic Tamashas receive
support for extensive village and city tours, and because one program
may be seen by hundreds of thousands of people within a relatively
short period of weeks or months, the phrase ”traditional (or folk)

medium of mass communication“ is also employed.8

Limitations

 

The study deals largely with history, formal elements,
practitioners, uses, and sample script materials of Tamasha. It
does not attempt to serve as a definitive historical and literary
overview of the Tamasha form. It is essentially descriptive and
deals with very few primary materials, except for some texts of
early songs and a number of modern scripts in translation. There
are obvious limitations imposed by lack of first-hand knowledge of

the Marathi language.

 

8See Part 2 for views of Tamasha as a traditional medium of
communication.

Organization

 

Part I surveys the history of the form from its origins in
the seventeenth century (during the declining years of Moghul rule
in Maharashtra) to the present (1971), when the data for this study
was collected. Because the writer assumes the Western reader will
have little or no prior knowledge of Tamasha, information is provided
on a wide variety of related subjects, including specific features
of the form. Chapter I deals with structural elements, form, and
conventions. Chapter II provides a cursory historical account of
the art form down to the present. Chapter III presents views on the
state of the art of Tamasha in both the "raw” and loknatya traditions.
It concentrates upon the artists, the impressarios, the theatres, the
challenge posed by the developing mass media, and the themes and
aesthetic purposes of the most prominent playwrights working with
the folk form. Finally, Chapter IV examines the controversy which
developed since Independence as a result of the State Government's
efforts to control Tamasha.

Part 2 provides a more comprehensive examination of what
is, to my knowledge, the most significant trend in the development

of Tamasha--its use for social and political propaganda.

Methodology

 

Criteria for the establishment of a suitable descriptive
language for formal elements and theatrical conventions of the folk
form1were developed from a comparison of information gathered from

Marathi books and articles (which were translated under my

supervisiong), and from private interviews with the most respected
and knowledgeable authorities on Tamasha.
To determine who the most respected authorities were, I

relied upon the help of the founder-members of the Marathi Tamasha

 

Parishad (Association), cultural and publicity officers of the
Maharashtra Government, and other informants. The knowledge and
information gained in subsequent interviews with these authorities
on Tamasha was qualified by comparisons and cross-checking for
accuracy. The material was again compared with the substance of
the two existing Marathi works in print which serve as standards
for knowledge of Tamasha to date--the publications by V. K. Joshi
and Namdev Vatkar, mentioned above. By this process, the following
persons interviewed were selected as the most respected authorities
relating to history and description of the form and style of Tamasha:
Vasant Bapat, Durga Bhagvat, Vinayak Bhave, P. L. Deshpande, Shahir
Gavankar (now deceased), Rajaram Humane, Y. N. Kelkar, and Rajabhau
Thitey. In matters of literary and/or theatrical judgment, the most
respected authorities interviewed were: Vasant Bapat, Vinayak Bhave,
P. L. Deshpande, Y. N. Kelkar, Vyankatesh Madgulkar, D. M. Mirasdar,
Shahir Atmaram Patil, and Vijay Tendulkar. A list of persons inter-
viewed is appended to the bibliography of this study.

By this method, a consensus of views was created, in the

absence of a sufficient body of published primary or secondary

 

9Some works, like V. K. Joshi's previously mentioned
Loknatyachi Parampara (“The Tradition of Folk Theatre"), and Namdev
Vatkar's Tamasha. (Kolhapur: Shettey Prakashan, 1958), were
translated in their entirety for purposes of this study.

 

 

 

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sources. Where the existing literature and the views of authorities
interviewed could not resolve certain disagreements, I have added

my own personal views and comments, for which I acknowledge responsi-
bility.

Research for the study was carried out principally in
Maharashtra during a nine-month period ending July, 1971. The work
is based upon my own observations of more than thirty productions,
personal interviews with artists, playwrights, scholars, State
Government officials, and journalists, and readings of both primary
sources (in translation, or otherwise with the help of informants),
and secondary sources, including library materials, newspaper
clippings, and a number of selected Tamasha-style scripts.

During the research period, I supervised the translation
and adaptation of six complete Tamasha scripts, four of which are
included in the Appendices to this study, as well as segments of
many others. In the same period of time I attended more than thirty
"raw" and loknatya Tamasha performances in the Bombay-Poona region,
and I travelled with one itinerant troupe (that of Shahir Sable),
for a one-night performance in the village of Dhebewadi, south of
Poona. I also attended screenings of four Tamasha—inspired feature
films.

For the purpose of maintaining a unified writing style, all
foreign words used in this study are transliterated into English
according to the versions appearing most commonly and consistently
in English-language materials printed in India. All foreign words,

except names of places and persons and most frequently used words

10

(e.g., "Tamasha"), are italicized (underlined in the text). Where
required, translations of foreign words in the text will follow in
adjacent brackets or after due separation by commas. For additional
reference, a glossary of foreign terms related to Tamasha is appended.
Quoted segments of translations from foreign source materials
will be credited in footnotes according to source and translator;
but where no credit appears, it should be assumed that the translation
is the work of Miss Nilima Vaidya as adapted by the author of this

study.

CHAPTER I

DESCRIPTIVE FEATURES OF TAMASHA

The purpose of this chapter is to define "Tamasha" as used
in this study, to describe the prominent elements or features of
Tamasha, and to develop a frame of reference for further investi-

gation of the folk form.

”Tamasha"

To begin, we must take note of the origins and usages of the
word "Tamasha.“ The word is originally Persian, meaning "fun," "play,”
"entertainment," and it was brought to Maharashtra by the Urdu-
speaking Moghul armies1 which maintained Delhi's imperial rule in
Western India from the fourteenth to the mid-seventeenth century.
(See historical sketch of Maharashtra in Appendix J of this study.)

By the sixteenth century, the word "Tamasha" had accrued to

itself a new meaning--a specific variety of popular entertainment for

the Moghul armed forces. Namdev Vatkar claims that this entertainment

 

1Namdev Vatkar, Tamasha (Kolhapur: Shettey Prakashan, 1958),
p. 10; also Balwant Gargi, Folk Theatre in India (Seattle: University
of Washington Press, 1966), p. 73. It should be noted that the
Maharashtrians evolved another meaning for the word I“Tamasha," which
serves as a pejorative adjective for "unsightly spectacle," "a
(nonfusion of loud sounds," and "low-class spectacle." Although it
is conceivable that these pejorative meanings developed from upper-
caste Maharashtrian reaction to the early "raw" Tamasha entertain-
ments, the adjectival use of the word is regarded in this study as
secondary to its meaning covering a specific form of entertainment.

11

12

was first performed in Maharashtra in 1599. It was made up of sensuous
Urdu song forms and vigorous dances in the northern Kathak_tradition,2
characterized by precise footwork and rhythms, which were performed by
male DEEED dancers brought from Delhi to amuse the Moghul armies.3

In time, however, the Moghuls recruited local Marathi
acrobats, trumblers and other performing artists from some of the
out-caste communities, such as the Mahars, Mangs, Dombaris, Kolhatis,
as well as Gondhali religious minstrels. A description of how out-
caste performers were recruited as Tamasha artists is found in
Chapter III of this study.

The Marathis were influenced by, but they did not completely
copy, the Kathake patterns of dance and the Urdu singing; they
brought many of their own indigenous devotional and secular enter-

tainment forms,5 which were eventually fused into a more complex

structure, combining song, dance, and dramatic elements.

 

2Namdev Vatkar, gp_.____. , p. 10.

3M. S. Mate, Temples and Legends of Maharashtra, ed. by
K. M. Munshi and R. R. Diwakar (Bombay: Bhavan's Book University,
1972), p. 67. It should be noted here that the tradition of using
young male performers (natch poryas) to impersonate female artists
was maintained by later Tamasha troupes down to the close of the
nineteenth century. Patthe Bapurao's troupe (see Chapter II) was
most instrumental in introducing female dancers and singers into

Tamasha.

4Kathak is the classical dance style of northern India,
Characterized by the stamping footwork of the dancer.

5Chapter II provides a more detailed account of the histori-
cal development of Tamasha as an art form in Maharashtra and includes
details on such indigenous Maharashtrian folk entertainments as the
dashavatar musical opera, the bharud dramatic poetry recital, the
elite play of the gods called _l___al1t, the gondhal minstrel song, and
the: kirtan musical sermon, all of which influenced Tamasha to some

extent, according to Namdev Vatkar, g3. _C_1°_§ . P 15

 

 

13

By the end of the seventeenth century, Tamasha had come to
be regarded as the predominant folk theatre form of Maharashtra
(except for the coastal Konkan region), as well as of the bordering
regions of what is today Mysore State.6 Although the form has
continued to evolve over the years, incorporating new elements such
as the vag_(folk drama)7 and, more recently, film songs and dances,
and fully scripted segments, it remains substantially recognizable

by Maharashtrians as "Tamasha" down to the present time.8

Varieties of Performing Troupes

 

It has already been mentioned that there are two main cate-

gories of Tamasha troupes-~sangeet-baaris, which specialize in song-

 

and-dance entertainments; and dholki-baaris, which offer more sub-

 

stantial theatre fare that includes dramatic presentations (339;) as
well as songs and dances. The distinction bears repeating at this
point since the elements of performance are, to some extent, different
for each variety of troupe, as will shortly be observed in the de-

scription of formal elements.

 

6Durga Bhagvat, private interview, Bombay, January, 1971;
Vasant Bapat, private interview, Bombay, November, 1970.

7The vag_form, which is described later in this chapter, is
an outgrowth of nineteenth century experimentation with Tamasha,
notably by Patthe Bapurao. See Chapter II for further discussion
of Bapurao's place in the history of the development of Tamasha.

8In the Introduction to this study, it will be recalled,
Tamasha is used to cover modern kala pathak (art squad) presentations
by social and political propagandists as well as "sophisticated"
loknatya (folk or people's theatre) productions, since both retain
some or all of the formal elements of Tamasha.

 

14

The characteristics of a Tamasha troupe should also be out-

lined here as an aid to understanding of the formal elements. The

9

sangeet-baari is made up, on the average, of five to six female

 

dancers and singers (one of whom is the star performer of the troupe),10
a tablarplayer or dholkj;player to provide appropriate rhythms, a
harmonium-player, and a tuntuni—player.1] Many sangeet-baaris also
feature a stock character called Songadya, who serves as an improvising
punster and master of ceremonies.

The dholki-baari (also called dholki-phad), takes its name

 

from the cylindrical, two-sided dholki drum, slung from the shoulders,
which provides the most characteristic rhythms in Tamasha.12 An

average dholki-baari is larger than a sangeet-baari: it is made

 

up of a leading male (occasionally female) actor, honorifically
called "shahig? or people's poet; six to eight male actors gum_choral
singers, one of whom is designated as the troupe's songadya, while
others may also double on small instruments-~tuntuni, manjeera, or

small brass cymbals, kade, or metal triangle, and the tambourine-like

 

9Namdev Vatkar, 9p, £13,, pp. 108, 109. Vatkar's "average"
troupe accords with my own observations of some fifty sangeet-baaris.
(An evening of sangeet-baari entertainment may easily be made up of
twenty-minute appearances by perhaps six or seven troupes, and it
is possible for the interested observer to see a large number of
troupes in a relatively short time.)

10See photo of Lata Lanka Nandurekar and her troupe, Appendix
H, Plate II.

1lSee note on musical instruments in this chapter, infra.

12See photo, Appendix H, Plate 1.

15

gaf and halgi;13 two or more attractive female dancer-singers; a

dholki-player; and a harmonium-player.14

The dholki-baari provides the climax to a typical night of

 

"raw"15 or unsophisticated Tamasha entertainment, which may begin

with songs and dances by one or more sangeet-baaris. Often, a dholki-

 

baari may perform by itself the entire range of Tamasha elements in

a night's entertainment. The sangeet-baari generally avoids dramatic

 

elements in favor of light and sensuous musical entertainment, in a
direct appeal to village elders as well as to the working class

audiences in the cities.]6

Numbers of Troupes

 

Estimates of the number of troupes in existence today vary,
mainly because no exact count has ever been made. Such a count
would, in any event, be quickly rendered out of date because troupes
are itinerant in nature and they are continually changing, disbanding,

or forming anew.17

 

13See note on musical instruments in this chapter, infra.

14See photo of male performers in Shahir Sable's dholki-
baari, Appendix H, Plate XIII; and photo of Sable's female s1nger-
dancers, Plate XVIII.

5See definitions of "raw" and "sophisticated" Tamashas in
the Introduction to this study, supra.

16Rajaram Humane, private interview, Bombay, November, 1970.

‘7In support of this view, I would cite private discussions
with Vinayak Bhave and Rajaram Humane. Most troupes are constantly
(withe move, playing tours of villages, towns, and cities, according
to festivals and seasons.

 

II n

 

 

 

 

16

I shall rely upon government estimates given to me by
Rajaram Humane, Director of Cultural Affairs for the Government
of Maharashtra, who claimed there were 300 sangeet-baaris and
about 180 ghglki:bggrjg_in existence in 1970, for a total of 450
Tamasha troupes. His estimates included 3,000 performers in the
saflgggt:bgggj§, and 4,500 performers in the dholki-baaris, which

suggests an average of ten artists in a sangeet-baari and twenty-

 

five artists18 in a dholki-baari. Humane also counted another 2,500

 

artists who worked in smaller groups in the remote villages.
According to this estimate, therefore, there were a total of

10,000 Tamasha artists in 1970.‘9

Average Age of TroupeeMembers

According to Durga Bhagvat,20 the average age-spread of
Tamasha artists ranges from seventeen to fifty-five--an estimate
which approximates my own observations and inquiries among members of

three dholki-baaris and ten sangeet-baaris.

 

 

18This figure appears to be high, according to my own obser-
vation of some twenty dholki-baaris, suggesting the average is more
like fifteen. NevertheTess, some of my informants claim that a number
of troupes do contain upwards of thirty artists--a fact which may
help to explain the figure provided by Mr. Humane.

 

19Rajaram Humane, private interview, Bombay, November, 1970.

Other estimates obtained are as follows: According to journalist
Rajabhau Thitey (private interview, Poona, March, 1971), 800 troupes
and more than 10,000 artists, which would make the average troupe
total about thirteen artists; and according to Balasahib Gore, General
Secretary of the Marathi Tamasha Parishad (Association), there were
500 sangeet-baaris, with an average of twelve artists in each, and 500
dholkilbaaris, with some twenty-seven artists in each, for a tbtal of
approximately 18,500 artists (Private interview, Poona, February 26,
1971). Balwant Gargi estimates there are 800 troupes which provide a

living for 40,000 Maharashtrians (Gargi, 93. 93.).

 

 

20Private interview, Bombay, January, 1971.

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17

The Tamasha Stage

_ Tamasha may be presented under a variety of outdoor and in-
door conditions relative to performing space.21

In small villages, the performing space is usually a tempo-
rary raised wooden platform in a large clearing, or it may be a
untable area marked out on the ground with hundreds of spectators
seated on the ground on three sides. The performing space must be
at least ten feet by fifteen feet in order to accommodate a minimum
of six persons and often twice or three times this number.22 A
simple undecorated backdrop adorns the rear of the stage area, and
cfiten there is a front curtain as well. (Paintings of outdoor,
pastoral scenes may be found on backdrops used in indoor stages in
cities.)

With the growing availability of electrical power, lighting
is provided by electric bulbs strung over the stage above the heads
of the performers, as well as by one or more flood-lights affixed on
posts at the sides of the stage. Sound amplification is also provided
with the aid of microphones and loudspeakers.

Some of the larger and more prosperous villages will make
available to travelling Tamasha troupes more permanent outdoor stage

facilities, possibly a sturdy raised platform, boxed in proscenium

style, and facing spectators directly in front rather than on three

 

2IThis section is based largely on personal observations of
stage facil1ties, supported by readings and by discussions with
Tamasha practitioners .

22Namdev Vatkar, 92, 913,, p. 64.

18

sides. Technical facilities, however, are essentially the same as
‘ste available in the small villages. Audience capacity may easily
reach several thousand.

Productions in towns and cities generally utilize indoor
stage facilities: the “raw" Tamasha troupes are admitted to the
imorer theatres in the poorer working class districts; while the
nmre sophisticated loknatya (folk or people's theatre) troupes
cmmmand the best and most modern stage facilities in the large
ummercial theatres. The urban centres of Tamasha are located in
Mmtay, Poona, Nagpur, Nasik, Ahmednager, Kolhapur, Sholapur, Satara,
Sangli, Belgaum, and Aurangabad.

It should be added that there are few limitations to outdoor
performing spaces for the better and wealthier troupes, some of which
can carry their own equipment in transport vehicles, including
costumes, props, lighting and sound equipment, and, in some cases,

platforms.

Form Elements of Content
The structure of content components in a Tamasha production
is characterized by a loosely arranged mixture of elements which may
include traditional song-and-dance forms, farcical skits, and full-
length dramatic folk plays. There is a great deal of freedom in
the positioning of these elements, but the content will be designed
to express the comic sentiment (hasya rasa),23 according to the ancient

system of rasas (sentiments).24

 

23Durga Bhagvat, private interview, Bombay, January, 1971.

24See Chapter II, Footnote 7, infra., for an explanation of
the system of rasas.

19

The Gan
A Tamasha production normally opens with a devotional song
to Ganesha, the elephant god and patron of the arts. This is called

the gag. Sangeet-baaris and dholki-baaris alike open their programs

 

with the gag.

There are two kinds of gang those giving prominence to
Brahma and Lord Shiva, the destroyer; and those giving prominence
to love and strength, or shakti, which means the reconciling parts,

25 The shahirs (people's poets) who composed

or power, of Shiva.
these gags traditionally competed with each other for supremacy in
the eyes of the audience. Shahirs who worshipped Shiva were called
Turewalas; while those who worshipped Shakti_were called Kalgjwalas.
The competitions, which ranged across other Tamasha song forms
(including 131331 love songs and question-and-answer sawal-jababs),
reached their height between 1794 and 1854.26
Modern gag_compositions are less theologically involved, and

more concerned with praise of Ganesha in the hope of gaining artistic
inspiration. An illustration of a modern gan_is taken from a script
prepared for election propaganda in Maharashtra on behalf of the
Ruling Congress Party during the 1971 mid-term national election
campaign:

Ganesha, I'm praying to you.

Listen to me,

Come to us in human form

And bless us.
You're fond of art

 

25V. K. Joshi, Loknatyachi Parampara, p. 126.

261bid., pp. 126-129.

20

And this is just for you.

I hope it's appropriate.

Please inspire us.

The bonds between us are immortal.
We are ready to serve you.

Just support us always.

This is what we ask.

Gaulan

 

The gag is most always followed by the gaulggr-an improvised
set of irreverent and saucy songs, dances, and sketches centered
about the young Lord Krishna, his friend Pendya, his beloved Radha,
and the old "Auntie" called Mavshi. Mavshi is always played by a
male actor dressed as a woman, and "her" role is to steer the gaulans
away from Krishna, who is himself generally disguised, and who is
always teasing them. Mavshi tries to keep the gaulans on the road
to Mathura--the holy city of the Hindus--where they plan to sell
milk and butter.

The gaulgn_segment had its predecedents in earlier
Maharashtrian folk forms, especially a certain skit (called kala)

of the Dashavatar form which originated in the seventh century in
28

 

the coastal Konkan region of Maharashtra.
Most typical of the gaulan_segments are those which deal

with the Krishna-gaulan_confrontation in playful manner, and which

develop the sensual and titillating possibilities of the situation

until Krishna relents and permits the women to pass. He generally

 

27See Appendix C for complete text of script in English
translation, titled We Must Win This Time.

28See Chapter II, infra., for more detailed discussion of
thelfistorical development of Tamasha.

21

exacts a special road tax which the ggulag§_promise to pay upon their
return from Mathura.' The following is a brief sample of dialogue
typical of traditional ggulan segments:
ALL GAULANS
(In unison) You tell Krishna our pots are heavy with curds and

milk. The pots are new and they're leaking and our saris are
getting all wet. Please let us go.

(SONGADYA gives the message to
KRISHNA who turns a deaf ear to
the plea.)

RADHA
We won't pay him! We'll teach him a lesson. (To SONGADYA)

Go and tell Krishna that if he's brave enough he should come

and collect the tax himself. (SONGADYA passes the message back
to KRISHNA)

KRISHNA
(To GAULANS) What are you waiting for? Is this a market-place?
GAULANS
We're going to the market.
KRISHNA
Without paying my tax?
was
You're not going to get it.
KRISHNA

Then you can't pass. (Pause) By the way . . . the rule is that
Pe0ple can pay what they like.29

The dialogue goes back and forth in this manner until the

ga_u1_a£ agree to pay their tax. Some of the more contemporary and

 

29v. K. Joshi, 99. £113., pp. 164, 165.

22

socially committed g33133_segments of Tamasha include inspiring
{mopaganda messages on such themes as milk scandals, language
rights, and other aspects of social justice.
Sangeet Lavani and Other Songs of
Sensual Nature

The g33133_segment is performed most often by dholki-baaris
(the folk drama troupes), and less so by the sangeet-baaris (the
song-and-dance troupes), which generally avoid dramatic elements in
favor of purely crowd-pleasing fare that includes the traditional
sensuous 131331 songs, poetically evocative Urdu kavalis and 933313,

and popular film songs. An evening of sangeet-baari entertainment

 

would probably feature half a dozen troupes, each performing for
about half an hour, and each climaxing its brief appearance with
singing and dancing. 0n special occasions--village festivals or

on weekends in the cities-~a dholki-baari would complete the night's

 

entertainment with a two-hour 33g, or folk drama. If a dholki-baari
is on stage for a full evening of entertainment, it will follow up
on the g33133_segment with its own interlude of sensuous songs,
dances, and poetic dialogues.

The range of these song and dance forms is wide: 131331
love songs, in which the singer accompanies her own words through
dancing; the poetically evocative Urdu 53y3lj_and g3;3l_song forms
whhfliare performed in intimate manner by an artist seated on the

stage; chakkads, or poetic dialogues that simultaneously employ
singing and mime; povadas, a rousing ballad form used by shahirs

fiw*MHMreds of years; sawalajabab, or riddle form, which was used

 

23

in question-and-answer dialogue set to music by shahirs engaged in
the Shivashakti competitions of the eighteenth and nineteenth centu-
ries,30 as mentioned above; and modern film songs and dances.

Most central to Tamasha is the 133331_song. 333331_1iterally
means transplantation, and it originally referred to the trans-
plantation of rice. It derives from the Sanskrit 1a3anika, which
is an adjective describing sensual beauty, and which has a second

3] Early

meaning--harvest song-~deriving from the rice harvests.
1333313 were work songs, but the genre was gradually absorbed into
the bardic and popular religious traditions.32 During the £33333_
period (rule by Prime Ministers, 1707-1818), the 133331 became the
main poetic song form in Tamasha.33

One popular variety of 133331_depicts love, romance, reunion,
separation, fickle love, history, and, sometimes, social conditions.
One of the best remembered of the shahirs (people's poets) who
specialized in composing lavanis of the sensuous kind is Patthe

34

Bapurao (1866-1945). An example of his lavani compositions will

illustrate the thematic concern with fickle love: it is one taken

 

30The form was revived by the late Shahir Annabhau Sathe
during the 19405, in his political use of Tamasha. (See Chapter V.)

31
p. 132.
32Ibid - see also Durga Bhagvat's The Riddle in Indian

Life, Lore and Literature (Bombay: Popular Prakashan, 1965),
p.35. ‘

Namdev Vatkar, 33, 313,, p. 56; V. K. Joshi, 33, 313,,

33v. K. Joshi, 93. 313. p. 121.

34See Chapter II for further information about this shahir's
Place in the history of Tamasha.

 

24

from his 13g_(folk drama) called Mitha Rani ("Sweet Queen"). The

 

133331 which follows comes at a moment in the play when Mitha
Rani's husband has given up his earthly possessions to become a
33333 (mendicant):

MITHARANI

How can I live without you?
Look! I'm crying for you.
My eyes are swollen for you.

HUSBAND

You're a dangerous woman,
Troubling all my days,
Driving me to beg,

To poverty and rags.

Go away, or I'll beat you!

MITHARANI

But I'll give you everything.
Here, I'll sit next to you
And let you cut my throat.
on, where can I go

In this sad, sad world?

HUSBAND

You speak sweetly,

But you're really a witch,

And I no longer believe in you.
I must go away.

Women are all the same,

And Patthe Bapurao says:
You must control your mind.

35

Another example of 133331_comes from the Golden Age of
Tamasha, during the reign of Peshva (Prime Minister) Baji Rao II.
Itis by Shahir Honaji who lived from 1754 to 1844. His lavanis

were sung by the artist Bala Karanjkar, and the team became known

5‘

35Lavanis by Patthe Bapurao (Poona: Bapurao Jintikar
Publishers, 1969), p. 78.

 

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25

as Honaji Bala. The lines quoted here cover the theme of separation;
in this instance, they express the sadness of the lonely lover:

My love has flown away from me.

Should I poison myself?

How long can I control my sad heart?

If you don't return 50036

I think that I may die.

But in a less refined manner, the following fragment of an
unidentified lavani which I heard at a "raw“ Tamasha performance is
saucy and lascivious:

Let go my wrist, husband!

I'm tired after a full day of housework,

And all you want to do is make love. 37
At least you could let me finish the cooking. . . .

Until the close of the nineteenth century, lavanis were
performed by male singers and dancers dressed as women. Today,
the form is cultivated by professional dancing girls, richly clad
in Maharashtrian nine-yard saris tucked in at the waist, and wearing
ankle-bells that accentuate their intricate footwork.38

A chakkad, or poetic dialogue, may follow a lavani. It
depends upon acting and singing ability, since the singer is called
upon to simultaneously mime and act out states of feeling and action
suggested by the lines of the song. Here is an example of a chakkad

composed by Patthe Bapurao:

 

36v. K. Joshi, 33. 313., p. 222.

37Translated by Vinayak Bhave.

38For illustrations, see photographs, Appendix H. Plates VIII,

XVIII.

26

.33
0h, Pretty girl. Stay where you are.
Come and talk to me a while.
I'm wild about you, you know.
Don't spurn me.

§_H_E_

Behave yourself! Always after me!

Why do you persist? My husband will come.
Somebody might come and somebody might see,
And they'll surely tell my brother-in-law,
And my husband will take it out on me.

.33

What lovely words! Such graceful walk.
You always dress to tease the eyes--

I've yet to see a husband permitting that.
And I'm wild to distraction about you.

My mind's lost its business sense. . . .

.5111;

Keep in mind you'll ruin my life.

Think about that, I beg you,

Or, they'll send me to my father. . . .
And my husband will take it out on me.

33_

What a fine figure, and a good waist too.
I've never seen a husband like yours.
Tomorrow I'll see you so no one will see us.
Think of a time and place.

I've never seen a husband like yours.

it

Then, I'll be your sister,

And you can come home with me, dear brother!
Be calm, still your rage.

We'll have a ceremony to make you brother,
And you can buy me a sari. 9

The sensuous element in these songs and poetic dialogues

hflpstm maintain audience interest, which is an important

k

391bid., pp. 172, 173.

*

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27

consideration during a full evening of entertainment that may last
frmn three to six hours. Serious dramatists4O and film-makers in
lhharashtra4' have recognized the unique effect of mixing song,
cunce and poetic dialogue, and many have transposed the 133331_form
and the chakkad into their own works for their distracting and
entertaining values. Today, some of the most popular Hindi and
lhrathi film songs are those based on 133331 rhythms and styles.

In another departure, writers working within the Tamasha tradition
are using the same rhythms and modes of sensuous folk song as

vehicles for modern social messages.42

Farce

In a dholki-baari full-length Tamasha production, the program

 

segment devoted to songs of sensuality is an interlude. The next
part of a typical production is the farce, and it serves as a prelude
to the folk drama, or 333, which is still to come. In the farce,
laughter, not the evocation of sensual awareness, is the primary aim.
Situations from daily life--ill-matched marriages, prostitution,
educational difficulties, economic and social problems—-are all

typical subject-matter.

 

4OVishnudas Bhave's serious Marathi dramatic works, beginning
in 1843, contained songs "derived from Tamasha," notes V. K. Joshi,
33, 313,, p. 156.

416. D. Madgulkar, a Marathi film song-writer and producer,
hasspoken to me at great length of the use of Tamasha song and dance
forms in film. (Private interview, Poona, March, 1971.)

42Part 2 of this study deals more thoroughly with this topic.

 

 

.nw
.

 

 

28

The farce derives from earlier examples brought to India by
British theatrical troupes in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries,

and which were themselves influenced by the Italian commedia dell' arte

tradition.43

The Vag, or Folk Drama

The 33g_is a nineteenth century outgrowth of the earlier
improvised Tamasha skits and other bits of dialogue. Today, it is
the highlight of a typical night of Maharashtrian folk entertainment.
Traditionally, 33gg_were created in the bullock carts and buses and
trains used to move Tamasha troupes around the countryside: they
were by nature unscripted pieces based upon short storylines and
scenarios designed by the troupe leader and his actors. Actual
dialogue was created upon the stage at performance time.44

For color and variety in 333, there is a mixture of dialogue,
improvised humorous asides to the audience by the songadya, out-of-
context by-play between artists, and songs and dances--mainly lavanis,
but occasionally 3ovadas (a ballad-form).

The language of the 33g_is simple and direct so as to be

accessible to rural folk and the urban working-classes alike;

however, the newer and more sophisticated vags are now being scripted,

 

43Rajaram Humane, Cultural Affairs Director, Government of
Maharashtra, private interview, Bombay, November, 1970; also Durga
Bhagvat, private interview, Bombay, January, 1971.

44F. L. Deshpande, private interview, Bombay, November, 1970;
Vymwatesh Madgulkar, private interview, Poona, January, 1971.

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29

wfim reinfements in dialogue and wit created to appeal to the middle
mm upper classes.45

Themes and subjects for the 33g_cover mythology, history,
rationalism, government, social evils, new ideologies, propaganda
fm~various causes, and entertainment for entertainment's sake.

The 33g_has its own particular form, beginning with a chorus
Hunting in high-pitched manner the poetic lines of reportage (batavani)
‘Hmt help the audiences grasp the plot. This chanting is called
3333, and it is featured at key points in the 333 to keep the plotline
in focus for the audience, especially where extended improvised
cfialogue has made the story difficult to follow. It is suggested
Hut 33331_is delivered so harshly and loudly because it was tradi-
tionally the only way outdoor audiences could hear what was going
M1before the advent of electricity and the loudspeaker.46 Highest
notes in the 33331_are most often carried by the 333333, or note-
players, who sing while playing the tiny cymbals (manjeera), and the
single-stringed instrument called the tuntuni, which produces a fixed
continuous note. The rest of the chorus, as I have often observed,
stand shoulder to shoulder, each performer cupping a hand over one
ear while singing at a near shout. Leaning into the group are the
3331317p1ayer and the 3337player, both of whom fill the moments

between each line of the opening chorus with wild beats and rhythms.

 

45M. P. Shirshat, Secretary, Stage Performances Scrutiny
BOENL private interview, Bombay, November 28, 1970.

46Namdev Vatkar, 33, 313,, p. 64.

 

 

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30

A traditional 33gfl7 may open with a mhani about some legendary

khm called Vijay:
King Vijay ruled the land.

He was a very brave and handsome leader.
His subjects were happy everywhere.

One day he went out to hunt.

Look, now! Here he comes on horse-back.
He is riding through the forest.

Look at him ride!

lbving set the scene for the audience, the chorus withdraws to one
side, or it may exit, leaving the performing space clear for an
encounter between the king and his mistress. The beautiful girl
is concerned that he may not return; but the king is reassuring.
He will return to her soon, he says. The girl exits; the king
gallops away on his make-believe horse. He does a few turns around
the stage to indicate he has travelled far. He stops, looks around,
and remembers he has left his body-guards behind at the court.

In the distance, King Vijay sees a temple. He decides to
rest there, and in a moment he is inside. A quick turn around the
stage is the accepted staging convention to overcome limitations of

time and space, permitting the king to appear inside the temple.

 

47The example is cited by Vasant Bapat (private interview,
Bombay, November, 1970), as a composite of several vags of the same
genre dealing with fictitious accounts of legendary figures. It is
included here to help the reader visualize the form and its staging
conventions. My own observations of traditional vags in performance
attest to the accuracy of Bapat's description of a generalized 333.
ll. K. Joshi (33, 313,, p. 20), has also remarked upon the fact that
'the traditional 13g_storylines, based upon the legendary kings
(Vijay, Vikram), are unending in their variety, and so fanciful,
‘that.one can only assume the stories are pure invention on the part
oi"the actors or shahirs. The figure of the king is thus used as a
quasi-historical prop to legitimize the story before an audience,
although the story 1tself may be totally fabricated. For storylines
(rf vags, and for samples of complete vags, consult Appendices to
this study.

 

---.,

 

0..

 

31

(See note on staging conventions, below.) The chorus returns to
chant more details to advance the plot. Interestingly, the king

may join in the singing, since his make-up is minimal and the
audience is rarely concerned when an actor moves in and out of
character. The chanting describes the king's chance meeting with

a temple dancer. Another girl enters: the temple dancer. She

looks to the audience in a very matter-of—fact manner, pouts disdain-
fully, and turns amorously to the king. From the chorus, the audience
learns that this temple dancer is only making a pretense of falling
in love with the handsome king, and that in reality she is a wicked
witch who is casting an evil spell over him. The chorus withdraws
again and the dancer-3337witch sings and dances a beautiful and
tender 133331 to bewitch the king.

Eventually the spell of the witch is broken by the appearance
of a faithful guard who, as it turns out, had wandered into the
forest in search of the king after being informed by the king's
mistress of fears for her lover. The king is restored to his senses
and there is a happy reunion back at the court. Goodness triumphs
over evil and the work ends happily, possibly with a concluding
song performed in chorus. There are no prescribed rituals at the

close of a 333,

Costuming and Makeup
Traditional Maharashtrian dress is used by Tamasha artists

upon the stage.48 Female performers, as a rule, wear brightly

48See photographs of female and male performing artists in
Appendixlt

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32

colored Maharashtrian nine-yard 33313, gathered and tucked in at
the waist, and pinned to permit freedom of movement for dancing.
The 3331 is trimmed in glittering silver or gold thread, which
glistens as the artist moves about the stage.

Costume jewelry for the women includes bangles, sparkling
earrings, noserings and necklaces.

A female performer's costume is complete once she winds a
few strands of tiny linked ankle-bells (ghungrus) about each ankle.
(Her stage movements are performed in bare feet, and each step
makes a jingling sound.)

Makeup is minimal, consisting of highlighting of the eyes,
painted lips, and rouged cheeks.

Male performers also use traditional dress, but here there
is at least some variety available. An actor or musician may wear
a white pyjama outfit or shurwar, or a Nehru shirt and dark-grey
jacket, and a 33333 (large colorful turban) wound around the side
of the head. He may also wear earrings.

As with female artists, makeup for the male is minimal,
requiring mostly highlighting of the eyes and a little rouge on
the cheeks. Occasionally, a false moustache or beard may be used
to enhance characterization for roles such as a chief minister or
a wise old man, or possibly an evil person.

Costuming and makeup appear to be minimal in both "raw”
and "sophisticated" productions. The latter, however, may oc-

casicwmlly call for special male-character costumes, such as those

 

,...

 

.,
.
e

1

. ,-
-

~,' .

 

 

 

 

l-v

 

33

required for a king, prince, policeman, sadhu (mendicant), government

official, money-lender, and a tradesman.

Tamasha's lack of insistence upon elaborate costuming or
makeup is matched by its minimal use of props, sets, and other

49

trappings of stage decor. The performer, as human instrument,

is therefore the central focus of interest for the spectator.50

Acting Style

From the productions of vags (by dholki-baaris) which I
d 51

 

attende I was able to determine that there exists a style of

acting in Tamasha which differs from that of the legitimate,

Western-oriented, Marathi theatre.52
Tamasha actors receive no formal stage direction, as opposed

to actors of the legitimate stage, and they have evolved through

49Namdev Vatkar, 33, 313., p. 65.
50Vinayak Bhave, private interview, November 10, 1970.

51Among the more than twenty performances of vags I attended,
I include here only the most prominent: Shahir Sable s Aburaoche
Lageen ("Aburao's Marriage”); Mirasdar's Tu Maji Ladki Myna ("You
are my beloved Myna Bird"); Sabnis' Vichya Maji Puri Kara ("Fulfil
My Desire"); Gadwhacha Lagna (”Donkey's Marriagefi), a creation of
Dadu Indurikar's troupe; Mumbaichi Kelewadi (“The Banana Seller of
Bombay”), author unknown at this writing; and the popular, if
Inelodramatic, Kalu Balu, author unknown at this writing. It should
be noted here that efforts to determine acting style were based on
{observations of productions of vaos by dholki-baaris rather than on
‘the less structured song-and-dance productions by the saflgeet-baaris.

52The only "serious" Marathi play I saw was Vijay Tendulkar's
IXHH Pakhare Yeti (”Birds Fly Here“); but my observations of acting
style on the Marathi stage were elaborated in discussions with
'Temhflkar, P. L. Deshpande, and Vyankatesh Madgulkar.

 

 

 

 

 

.,. ...,.
a up

 

 

 

 

 

.
., ,
I
:" 1
l I
. I
.
1

 

 

 

 

 

34

long apprenticeship a performing style which may be conveniently and
descriptively called "theatrical,"53 and which is defined here as a
tendency for artists to focus their bodies, gestures, and speech in
the direction of the audience. Focus upon the stage is reserved for
the most intense moments of dramatic conflict. The style is further
characterized by a rigidity of gesture during speech delivery.54
This directional focus and rigidity suggests the sense of
awkwardness; but it is offset by additional features: vivid facial
gestures, especially eye movement; moments of mime and stage
business which do focus upon the stage; and, most importantly, the.
rich and pungent content of the dialogue, much of which is improvised.55
There are exceptions to the theatrical style, and these may

be found among a handful of sophisticated loknatxa56

troupes which
have adopted the conventional naturalistic acting style of the Marathi

stage, leaving only the songadya free to play directly to the audience.

 

53The term ”theatrical” is suggested in the absence of any
available Marathi descriptions of acting style in relation to Tamasha.
Certain forms of Indian folk dance—drama, or classical Sanskirt
drama, may usefully employ the term "stylized acting” to cover a
formal arrangement of gesture, body movement, mime, dance-steps,
and voice delivery; but, except for the Tamasha song-and-dance forms,
the word "stylized" does not apply to acting in Tamasha folk drama.

54The rigidity and the general downstage focus may have
ewolved, in part, from the use of microphones for sound amplification.
:Since the growth of folk drama within Tamasha is a recent phenomenon,
‘it would appear that the development of an acting style was influenced
lay the technical requirements of sound amplification; i.e., the need
‘for actors to speak directly into a microphone.

55Namdev Vatkar, 33, cit., pp. 65-67.

56Dada Khondke's troupe is one example.

 

 

 

 

 

 

.
1,.
1
.
e”
.
.
‘n
I 1
.
‘1
In
I 1
‘\

 

35

Informality marks the onstage relationship of performers. This

informality is evident in the manner in which musicians and dancers

wait around onstage after performing a musical number while a vag scene

is being played out by actors. By joking, whispering, and occasionally

even teasing the actors, dancers and musicians (who often appear to
be actors in their own right), may disrupt intense dramatic moments

in a y_ag_ scene, a fact which doesn't, to my knowledge, seem to disturb

audiences.
If the acting style is devoid of refinements, objective

Standards, and formal stage direction, it becomes difficult, if not

Impossible, to develop any criteria for judging a good Tamasha actor.

We are forced to rely upon audience taste in this matter. From this

Perspective, it may be said that actors gain fame, adoration, and
TESpect not because of the excellence of their acting talent, as one

mi ght define the term in the West (or even on the legitimate Marathi
Stage), but "because of their personal rapport with the audiences."57

A good illustration of such rapport is that enjoyed by famed Tamasha

acItor Dada Kondke, whose innovative, witty, and satirical puns,

asides, and humorous lazzi-like 8 stage business, have endeared him

to Maharashtrians. At this writing (late 1973), Kondke was still

starring as the songadxa in the popular 33g by Vasant Sabnis--Fu1fil

57F. L. Deshpande, private interview, November, 1970.

58 . . . . .
Lazz1s are 1mprov1sed jokes, puns, or b1ts of stage
business by a stock character of the Italian commedia dell 'arte

tradition.

 

 

 

36

The work has played well over 1,000 performances since

5.59

My Desire.
its opening in 196
The audience rapport enjoyed by many songadyas60 (and I

might include here Nilu Phule and Dadu Indurikar), may be linked to

the fact that spectators tend to judge a Tamasha troupe's acting

talent by the excellence of its songadya.“ It will therefore be
useful at this time to examine the unscripted role of songadya.

Songadxa is, as we have mentioned, a stock character in
Tamasha, and he is found in most san3eet-baaris and in practically

all dholki-baaris. "Sophisticated" Tamashas (loknatxas) often

 

eliminate songadya by name, but there is always one character in

every troupe who is expected to assume the role of jester anyway.

Because of his special relationship to the audience and to the

Performers, songagya's antics and verbal witticisms are reminiscent

 

0F the naik, or stage manager in the Bhavai folk theatre tradition

0F Gujarat State, and there are comparisons with other Indian folk

fDr‘ms that could be drawn.62

\_

59It should be noted that the "run" is now limited to
Occasional productions in the larger cities and towns. In 1971, I
alt:tended two full-house performances of Fulfil My Desire in Bombay
anCi Poona.

60Namdev Vatkar, 33. 313., p. 70. "Even in newspaper
a{ivertisements for a production," writes Vatkar, "one will often
fl nd only the name of the troupe's songadxa."

6llbid.; see also V. K. Joshi, 92. 9112-, P- 247-

62See naik's role in Asaita Thakar's Vanio and Zanda Zulan,
two Gujarati folk plays adapted by Farley Richmond and Tevia Abrams,
irom a translation by Harish Trivedi. (Calcutta: Writers Workshop,

1911.) For comparisons of songadya to counterparts in other Indian
iolk theatre forms, see J. C. Mathur's Drama in Rural India (New

 

 

 

37

Songadxa may have a part in the 933133 segment of a Tamasha
production, or he may be featured in the farce and then turn up again
in the _V3g. He might simply wander around in and out of the dramatic
action, interrupting the proceedings with unscripted jokes, witty
remarks to performers, or asides to the spectators if he finds they
are becoming bored or impatient. Since, as mentioned earlier, story-
lines of gaulans and 11333 are often brief scenarios, dependent upon
the quick wit of actors to maintain lively dialogue, a songadya may

have to rescue the evening if his troupe is not in particularly good

improvisational form.

Song and Dance in Tamasha
Song and dance in Tamasha contain both local and foreign

l'nfluences. Since Maharashtra is culturally and geographically at
the mid-point between North and South India, there are traces in
Tamasha (particularly in the stamping footwork) of classic 133311313

“'3 nces from the North, which were brought by the Moghu‘ls from
Delhi, as well as elements of the major Southern dances of Bharata
La txam and Kathakali, notably hand gestures, head and body movements,
and the rolling eyes. These traces are, as Sudha Desai says of the
dance in Gujarati 131131131 folk theatre, but "mangled shadows" of the

0P1 ginal classical models.63 Dance steps and accompanying gestures

 

 

York: Asia Publishing House, 1964), pp. 70-83; and Balwant Gargi's
Tg'lk Theatre in India (Seattle, Wash.: University of Washington Press,

1966), passim.

63Sudha Desai, "Bhavai: A Medieval Form of Ancient Indian
bramatic Art (Natya) as Prevalent in Gujarat" (unpublished Ph.D.
Dissertation, University of Bombay, 1955, p. 572). Miss Desai's
comment about Bhavai holds for Tamasha as well, according to Vasant

Bapat (private interview, Bombay, November, 1970).

38

and lyrics are. dramatically speaking, not at all evocative of the
balanced system of 33333, or dominant states of feeling, but of easily
comprehended sensual expressions. These steps, moreover, do not
fifllmwahy set plans or choreographed patterns; they are determined
bythenmsic in free interpretation.

The stamping footwork of the dancers is designed to activate
tMaaMde-bells in order to accentuate rhythms of the drum patterns
of the 31131131, while gestures of the eyes, the hands, and the body
l'llileneral, are all focused to appeal sensually to the audience.64
We amt gesture is worth describing: while simultaneously singing

65

andcmncing a lavani song, a performer may express her innocence

“M Slllr'ness before a persistent lover by shaking her head in wide-
fledvmnder and biting on her thumbnail. This, apparently, is an

e'"Otlcgesture among girls in the sangeet-baaris.66

 

Another gesture of more intimate nature is a shuffling,
WWQLUM movement of a dancer's body, feet close together. While
smfifling in a down-stage direction, she will drape one end of her
§3§I°Ver her head and move it from side to side. Her eyes will
SEH‘PUt now one, now another spectator, to communicate intense
feeHngs of intimacy and desire. Generally, this gesture would

co'"Plement suitable poetic lines of a song, possibly a lavani.
__._______1

6
4Namdev Vatkar, 33, 313,, p. 62.

65Since the introduction of female dancers and singers into
"ks of Tamasha troupes in the nineteenth century, (V. K.
0 . 313,, p. 155), all natch poryas (male dancers impersonating
have been replaced. To this day, all feminine dancing and
3 performed by female artists.

the ra
Joshi,
females
Slnglng i

 

6
Vinayak Bhave, private interview, Bombay, November 24, 1970.

 

39

While singing an Urdu kavali or gazal, a dancer may sit
cross-legged on the stage and express her tenderest feelings through
head and eye movements and accompanying hand gestures and a swaying

0f the upper part of the body.

Musical Instruments

 

Music is an integral part of any Tamasha presentation, and
mention must therefore be made of the instruments used in production.

Chief among the instruments is the cylindrical, two-sided
Mdr‘um, which provides the essential rhythms for the song-and-
dance forms of Tamasha. The M1 is twenty-one inches long and
it is slung from the player's shoulder on straps, at hip level. At
one end, the striking surface is six inches in diameter while at the

other end the striking surface is eight inches in diameter. The
curving barrel of the 31131131 is strung with ropes with which to
tighten the striking surfaces for the appropriate playing tension.
(Phatographic illustrations of the 333131 and other instruments used
in TamaSha may be consulted in Appendix H, Plate I.)

The M—player sets both the pace and mood of a Tamasha
performanCe: he provides undulating rhythms for performers; he
plays col""Tterpoint rhythm to accentuate a dancer's movements and
geStures; and he often underlines dramatic moments of dialogue with
mOOd-SEtti n9 drum patterns.

. The second most characteristic instrument used in Tamasha
ls ”19%, a single-stringed instrument which is plucked at

regular °
Intervals to produce a fixed and continuous note. The

 

 

'-
a

 

 

40

curiously-shaped instrument is twenty-three inches long, and it has
a mechanism by which the string may be tightened.
Other instruments used are the tiny brass manjeera or 31131
(Cmbals) , two inches in diameter, which are normally used to
accompany devotional singing; the 331 or single-faced tambourine-like
instrument, about eighteen inches in diameter, which is beaten in
sharp staccatto manner with a tiny stick; the 113131, a smaller version
of the d_a_f‘_, which is just ten inches in diameter and which is beaten
by hand; the 15333, or metal triangle, measuring four to six inches

on a side ; the lejim, a jangling instrument of metal buttons strung

67 an accordion-like

like beads from wooden rods; and the harmonium,
instrument .

Ta b‘la drums and tabla-dagga drums (properly called sambal),

 

 

as well as a tiny one-sided cylindrical drum called kanjiri, measuring
just five inches in diameter and about four inches deep, are also used

by some Sangeet-baaris. Occasionally, one may find a troupe using

 

a .
c1ar1net—-a unique addition to the Tamasha ensemble.

l Fi nally, mention must be made of the ghungrus, or ankle-

) bells 68

’ WOY‘n by female Tamasha dancers to accentuate their movements.
1 As descri bed earlier in connection with costuming, ghungrus are tiny
meta] be] 'I s, strung together in chains, which are wound about each
ankle in two or more strands.

MUS? cians form a core-group playing in close onstage re-

lations -
h‘ p to the dancers, singers and actors. In particular, the

 

67
See Appendix H, Plate x111, for illustration.

68
See Appendix H, Plates VIII, XVI, and XVIII.

 

 

 

 
 

 

41

dholki-player works intimately with individual performers, moving
with them, leaning into their activity as if interpreting and

enriching the performance for the audience through the sound of

the drum.

Conventions of Tamasha

EJLJring the course of research for this study, a number of

theatrica 1 conventions69 were observed and later verified in dis-

cussion with performers, playwrights, and informants. These con-

ventions tell us something of cultural attitudes toward stage

illusion. expression of time and space, and non-illusionistic artist-

spectator i nvol vement.

Conventions Pertaining to Time and Space
Realistic or naturalistic stage settings or props are un-
necessary to suggest time and place in Tamasha, since there are no
PhySical boundaries to time and place. By a variety 0f gestures,
movement, mime, and word images in dialogue, an actor may convey
to the Spectator a richness of setting, time, and place. By aCCGPtEd
convention , the Tamasha actor is himself the instrument of all stage
Illusion.
when, in the composite 33g mentioned earlier, King Vijay
looks “‘01.: hd and "sees" a temple, the spectators may be expected

to See '
It‘ By the same token, when the king enters the temple and

 

theatre huTheatrical convention" is defined as an element of
a(Itice which is traditionally accepted (in advance of

Performa
“(29) by both performer and spectator.

 

 

 

42

the temple-dancer appears, the Spectators may also be expected to
accept that they are now inside the 'temple.

It is also an accepted convention that actors may step in
and out of character at any time and that they can (as in the case
cited. earlier of King Vijay switching from character to member of
the chorus) switch roles quickly, enabling a troupe to play a wide
variety of characters. Minimal employment of character costuming
and makeup serve as aids to such arrangements, as noted earlier.

Another convention pertaining to illusion is the actor's
quick turn around the stage which may tell the audience of a long
trip completed and, possibly, of a new locale reached.

Facial expressions, movement, mime and gesture are all
e‘lements of a good Tamasha actor's technique by which to make these

Conventions work properly.

_l__Qleement of the Audience

In both "raw" and "sophisticated” Tamasha performances,
there is a good deal of out-of-character by-play between artists
and spectators.

An actor, a singer, or a dancer, may single out individual
Spectators, or approach them as a group, and consciously proceed to
30ke, tease, or titillate. Sometimes an artist may be seeking
PUblic approbation; at other times, there may be an attempt by the
.SOngadya to enliven the evening if attention and interest of the
audience appears to be waning. In other cases, it is not uncorrmon

for an actor to break out of an illusory moment in a production to

 

 

43

upstage his colleagues in an effort to gain stardom at the expense
of his fellow professionals. '

But given the "theatrical" style of acting described previously,
and the sense of informality which prevails at performances, the
involvement of artists and audiences appears as a natural and ac-

ceptable convention of the folk form which often results in much

Spontaneously improvised and witty humor.

flusical Involvement: Daulat-Jadda

A convention associated only with the saggeet-baaris of the
"raw" Tamasha tradition represents a physical form of artist-spectator
Contact or involvement. It consists of the actual touching of artists
by spectators who pay sums of money for special encores or favored
requests. The convention is called daulat-jadda, and it developed
l:rom the Moghul practice of offering gifts to performers at a time
when artists had no other means of support. It was strengthened
after the British entry into Maharashtra in 1818 and the subsequent
loss of £33m patronage to Tamasha artists. Artists accepted gifts
and blessed the donor in return: "May the wealth of the donor
increase," or Daulat-jadda!"

However, the practice eventually degenerated into thrill-
Seeking contact with the artists, particularly after women entered
the ranks of Tamasha troupes at the close of the nineteenth century.
According to V. K. Joshi,

. the giving of money developed into a lewd and teasing

practice. A spectator would offer a coin to a dancer, and

use the occasion to extend the moment of contact for the
sake of pleasure. The gift was often made as payment for

 

ttie practice of prostitution among certain communities of artists,

 

44

audience requests--a favorite song or lavani. . . . There was
also competition among spectators for requests7 with the largest
sums determining what would be performed next. 0

Daulat-jadda also provided a socially acceptable form for

 

71

btrt the State Government has exercised increasing control over the
convention in an expression of puritan zeal which established itself
immediately after Indian Independence was achieved in 1947.72 Conse-

quently, daulat-jadda has been reduced to little more than a tip
73

 

vwfich, legally, must not exceed a ru3ee (7.5¢) at a time.

k

70V. K. Joshi, 33, 313,, p. 166.

. 718ee note on the Bhatu-Kolhati sub-caste, Chapter III,
1nfra., for a discussion of prostitution among Tamasha women.

72

 

See Chapter IV, infra., "The Politics of Tamasha.”

73Taken as a whole, the conventions which physically include
the audience appear to be socially in advance of some recent American
theatrical encounter experiments designed to liberate the possibilities
of contact between performers and spectators. The Living Theatre
presentation of Paradise Now, for example, contains a planned, if
not scripted, section in which performers walk through the auditorium,
Speaking directly to spectators, saying in frustrated manner that they
can't smoke marijuana, that they're not allowed to take their clothes
off. They seem to want to be able to establish more non-acting
Contact with the spectators, but they can't because of the constraints
0f accepted theatre conventions. Or, as Michael Kirby interprets it,
the actor "seems to be aware of an audience . . . and he reacts to
this situation by energetically projecting ideas, emotions and
elements of his personality for the sake of the audience." ("On
Amting and Non-Acting," The Drama Review, Vol. 16, No. l (T-53)
(March, 1972), pp. 6,7.) More recently (1972) I attended a per-
formance of the Liquid Theatre, an encounter theatre group at the
(augenheim Museum in New York which led the audience through touch
sensations and mild encounters but would not break the convention
(prhysical distance after the performance, in spite of a brief
Cflosing dancing session involving performers and spectators.

 

 

45

 

Wit and Humor

 

Since the major rasa, or sentiment, of Tamasha is hasya, or

74 it is necessary

comic, based on the dominant emotion of laughter,
to» make mention of the means by which humor and comedy are expressed.
The verbal humor of the Tamasha artist is derived mainly
'from run-ons and liaisons of words and from existing words having
double-edged meanings in certain combinations or contexts, which
often yield two levels of meaning. One level invariably appears to
be a normal statement; the other, generally, has a biting, satirical,
or sexually arousing meaning. A few examples are provided below.75
The word 13331 is used in a casual remark, and the audience
breaks into laughter. 13331_means to iron; but 3331 means woman.
In some cases, use of the word 3331 sounds more like 13331. With
this background, the following simple statement begins to have new
Possibilities: "13331_warms the clothes, while 3331 cools down the
than.”
Another example turns on the word janavar, which means
Einimal, and the words 3333_and 333_which together mean the husband

Of Jana. The following bit of dialogue takes advantage of the

confusion:

 

 

|3>

Who is he?

74Durga Bhagvat, private interview, Bombay, January, 1971;
See also brief discussion of the system of rasas, Chapter II, infra.

751 am indebted to one of my informants, G. P. Vaidya, for
examples cited.

 

 

46

100

That's janavar.
9.

How dare you introduce me as an animal!
B.

Well, aren't you Janavar? Your wife is Jana and 333_
means husband. Right? So, you're Janavar!

In yet another illustration, humor is created out of mis-
LNWderstanding relating to the word 31333, which means an airplane,
a"0d vimantal, which can mean either airport or a woman's lower parts.

333

What's that pendant you're wearing?
ueueu

It's a 31333_(airplane), can't you tell? Do you like it?
333

Actually I'm not so much fond of the viman as I am of the
vimantal.

Sometimes, run-ons of various words and lines serve to bring
Plft unsuspected levels of humor. In an announcement at the beginning
01’ one troupe's performance, the songadxa, or jester, looks to the

aleience, points to the dancers of his troupe, yelling: "Yethe nach

 

Ififlfl3§he chaltat!" This means quite literally: "Here you find dancing
aridl'amasha!" The spectators, however, began to laugh because they
Perceived a double meaning in the statement. It seems that by
Pronouncing the line as "Yethe nachat mashe chaltat,‘I a second

meaaming came through: "Here walk the fish dancing."

 

nuiking it more sophisticated and enhancing its literary value,

 

 

47

Linguists claim that Marathi lends itself to such double

entendres because of the unique phonological processes at work in
ttie language. These processes work to the advantage of the shahir-

p‘l aywrights who are increasingly working to refine the Tamasha form,

76

‘without, at the same time, destroying the openings for improvisational
talents of the actors.

The songadya, we have mentioned previously, is the main
source of improvised humor in Tamasha, particularly in the sangeet-
§33513, where most of the short g33133_segments and other brief
dialogue moments are improvised rather than scripted. In addition
to his quick wit, a good songadya will rely upon mime, farce,
nonsense, and sex-laden jokes.

Namdev Vatkar provides additional examples of wit and humor

77 One refers to double meanings and concerns

in his book Tamasha.
the word 33333, which can mean either ”meeting” or a "knot.” In
performance, the songadya asks another actor about where they ought
to meet, but in the context of the words the question becomes:
"Where is the knot?“ A nonsense effect is gained here.

In view of the nearly bare-stage approach to production

featured in Tamasha, the songadya's imaginative mime efforts can

 

lead to much humor. Where a horse is required, the songadya may

‘—

76Vijay Tendulkar, private interview, Bombay, December 16,
l970; Vasant Sabnis, private interview, Bombay, December, l970. See
rmwe comprehensive discussion of the Shahir-playwright in Chapter III,
infra.

77Namdev Vatkar, 33, 333,, pp. 70—74.

48

impersonate one, dropping to the floor and moving on his hands and
knees; or, if a throne is called for, an actor playing the king may

find himself sitting on the back of the songadya.

Sensuality in Tamasha

 

In the Introduction to this study, mention was made of the

"bawdy" (ashlil) and "sensual" (vishayasakla) impulses which were

 

operative in the development of Tamasha. This sensual strain is
explained by the fact that Tamasha grew out of male-oriented enter-
tainments for the Moghul armies stationed in Maharashtra.78 The
same lascivious appeal was noted when Tamashas were brought to the

79 especially from the time of Shivaji

camps of the Maratha warriors,
the Great80 in the mid-seventeenth century.

In the early period, all the artists were males; the female
roles were played by natch poryas, or young male dancers. Their

songs, dances, puns, and gestures were lewd and suggestive.81 In

 

time, literary refinements were made, especially during the Peshva
period of rule by prime ministers (l707-l8l8), and the sensual

content was wrought with more polished artistry.82 Prurient interest,

 

78This fact has already been established at the outset of
this chapter, supra.

79Vasant Bapat, private interview, Bombay, November, l970.
_ 80Shivaji's armies defeated the Moghuls in 1674, resulting
'Hlthe liberation of Maharashtra. (See historical note on Maharashtra,
Appendix J.)

81Vasant Bapat, private interview, Bombay, November, l970.

Idem.

 

 

 

 

49

hmmver, became more pronounced late in the nineteenth century, after
fmwle dancers were admitted to the ranks of Tamasha troupes. This
dmmlopment, which completely transformed the folk form, is attributed
toShahir Patthe Bapurao (1866-1945), the famed composer of sensuous
333313 and other Tamasha-style songs, who first engaged women per-
fmnmrs in his own troupe in the late l8OOs.83

Today, the sensual impact of Tamasha is derived from a
nmber of elements. In addition to the physical appeal and gestures

ofsingers and dancers, and the attraction of the music, much depends

upon the lyrics, the play of wit, and the dramatic content--most of

Much are provided by shahirs, or people's poets.84

83See section devoted to Patthe Bapurao, Chapter II, infra.

84For a historical sketch of the shahiri tradition, see
Chapter II, infra.

 

 

CHAPTER II

HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE DEVELOPMENT OF TAMASHA

The purpose of this chapter is to study the possible origins
of Tamasha and to follow its historical development from its emergence

in the seventeenth century to the present day.

Roots of Tamasha

In the absence of primary sources concerning the roots and
origins of the Tamasha form, we are forced to rely upon recent
theories and findings by Indologists and Marathi scholars.

Two accounts of the probable origins of Tamasha have been
identified.1 One suggestion, which is disputed because no factual
proof may be found to support it, concerns a line of development of
popular, low-class entertainments which ran parallel to the refined
and esoteric Sanskrit theatre tradition, and which emerged as
"Tamasha" after certain formal segments were yoked into the itinerant

troupe system created by the Moghuls for the entertainment of their

military forces.

 

1Durga Bhagvat, private interview, Bombay, November, l970.
I mnindebted to Miss Bhagvat for the basic delineation of both
acunmts and I rely upon her comments and qualifications. Her own
Vimvof the place of the Sanskrit tradition in India is that it
wasliterally a sanskritization of earlier, popular folk elements
ratmn:than a unique esoteric and original tradition. While Miss
Bhagvat's view is hypothetical, it nevertheless agrees with the

Mmomiand more factually-based account of the origin of Tamasha
as outlined below.

50

 

 

 

5T

According to this account, a number of preclassical enter-
tainment forms blossomed and declined in the Deccan region until
the Moghul Tamasha entertainment troupes began to adopt the existing
remnants .

A variant of this account, which applies to the national
theatre scene, claims that the classical Sanskrit drama was itself
but a branch diverted from an earlier and more basic secular enter-
'tainment tradition of mime. Both the basic tradition and the esoteric
branch then continued to develop in parallel fashion. This view is
upheld by the scholar Sten Konow.2

The views expressed above lend some credibility to the idea
that the Tamasha folk form may have developed from a basic tradition
originating in pre-classical times.

, The theory is,however, discredited by another scholar, A. B.
Keith, who denies the authenticity of information about pre-classical

3 ("Classical" is defined as the variety

forms of popular theatre.
of drama corresponding to the aesthetic system outlined in the ancient

treatise on drama, the Natyashastra of Bharata.)

 

The second principal account explaining the roots of Tamasha
is based on more factual information, and I will therefore accept its
claim: that Tamasha developed among the Marathas in the late sixteenth

and early seventeenth centuries from the decaying remnants of the

2Sten Konow, The Indian Drama, Tr. by S. N. Ghosal (Calcutta:
General Printers and Publishers, 1969), pp. 65-75.

 

3A. B. Keith, The Sanskrit Drama (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
l924). pp. 49-57.

 

52

Hterary Sanskrit dramatic and linguistic traditions, which had
rmver been very strong in the Deccan and which had been declining
flmadily following the invasions by the Moghul armies from the
fleventh century onward.4

Among these remnants were two entertainment forms in par-
ficular--the prahasan and the 333337-which easily lent themselves
to the popular and rustic entertainment needs among the Marathas.
mnn were secular forms and both provided openings for crude humor
and satire among entertainment-starved audiences.5

Prahasans are thought to have originated in the twelfth
century, and they were borrowed, according to Sten Konow, from the

6

old popular stage. They are one-act skits about social foibles,

laced with spicy comments and puns. Chief sentiment or rasa of the
prahasan is the comic (hasya), which derives from the dominant emotion
of laughter, according to the ancient system of rasas as outlined in

7

Bharata's Natyashastra. The form was pOpular among dwindling pockets

 

4The Moghuls established supremacy over Maharashtra from the
fourteenth to the seventeenth centuries.

5Durga Bhagvat, 133, 313, The prahasan and the bhana are two
types of classical drama forms out of a total of ten varieties
collectively called Rupaka, according to the Natyashastra.

6Sten Konow, 33, 333,, p. 48.

7Bharata's system of rasas includes eight major sentiments:

(l) Sringara, the erotic sentiment, which derives from love (rati),
ir\union and in separation; (2) Karuna, the pathetic sentiment, from
thecmminant emotion of sorrow, or choka; (3) Raudra, the sentiment
of finy, from anger, or krodha; (4) Vira, the heroic sentiment, from
13m mfirit of valor, fearlessness and energy (utsaha); (5) Bhayanaka,
smufiment of terror, derived from fear (bhaya); (6) Bibhatsa, the
seMflmmnzof horror and odiousness, based upon disgust, or jugupsha;

I7)Amwmta, the marvellous or wondrous sentiment that comes from the

 

 

 

53

ofSanskrit-speaking audiences down to the fifteenth century, and as
Wm vernacular languages flourished in Western India, the prahasan
smssed into Marathi as a literary device and was later incorporated
withe shahirs in their Tamasha presentations.

83333, on the other hand, is a one-man musical sketch which
isimprovised in the spirit of the dominant r3§3§_of vi:3_(heroic),
mm sringara (erotic). A 33333_may contain a mixture of love poetry,
lwmor, wit, music, and song. The oldest known example dates from
Hm end of the fourteenth century, but the form does go back to the

classical period. (Konow claims that bhana is directly descended

frmn pre-classical mimes.8)

There is also a sub-variety of bh333_called misrabhana, which
is worth mentioning here because of its influence upon Tamasha. A
medieval example of misrabhana by the writer Kasipati Kaviraja deals
in secular fashion with the adventures of Krishna and his exploits

among the ladies.9 The leap from misrabhana to the gaulan segment

emotion of astonishment, or vismaya; (8) Hasya, the comic sentiment
from the dominant emotion of laughter. Has a is the main rasa of
Tamasha and also of the Bhavai folk form of Gujarat. There is also
a ninth sentiment which 15 generally considered apart from the other
eight; it is called Santa, or tranquility, based upon quietude and
mental contentment. As applied to the classic Sanskrit drama,
Shakuntala, the theory indicates that the sringara rasa, or love, is
dominent in the play and that there is a consequent graceful manner
which pervades any work based upon sringara. In the same way, each
play may employ a dominant rasa and the appropriate manner, so that
the whole work maintains an elegant scheme or pattern denying the
traditionally Western extremes of great tragedy and high comedy.
For anmre detailed explanation of the Natyashastra, see H. R. Mishra's
lflg'fimory of Rasa in Sanskrit Drama (Madya PradeSh: Vindhyachal
Prakashanfli964).

 

 

 

 

8Sten Konow, 33,‘git., p. 48.
91mm, p. 199.

54

(W Tamasha (with its play of wit and song about Kirshna and the
erkmaids), is a logical one to make in view of the direct line of
lfistorical influence. (There are other influences which helped to
flwpe the g33133_segment of Tamasha, as we shall see when we con-

sider the dashavatar form.) To strengthen the substance of the

 

second theory, we must add to the decayed remnants of the Sanskrit
‘Uaditions the influences of indigenously Maharashtrian forms of
entertainment, the Northern Indian K3333k_dances, and the pure

Moghul forms (the k3y3lj_and g3;3l_songs mentioned in Chapter I),
brought to Maharashtra. Indigenous Maharashtrian elements are
largely folk entertainments, most of which were religiously inspired,
while others were purely secular. Some survive today in their own
right although performances are rare occurrences. It is important

to describe a number of these elements to demonstrate how they
contributed to the formal structure of Tamasha.

The £31 sutri puppet shows (source unknown), the dashavatar

 

musical operas, bharud dramatic poetry recitals, and the lalit and
9233331 festival entertainments represent the oldest folk forms known

to Maharashtrians. The most ancient is believed to be the puppet

shows.10

The first indications of real drama, which ultimately

affected the development of Tamasha, are to be found in the

——__

10V. K. Joshi, Loknatyachi Parampara ("Tradition of Folk
lheahwfl), pp. l-8. Joshi does not date the origins of the puppet
ShOWS,but he claims they served villagers as cheap representations
ofreaISmaskrit drama, since the models were too sophisticated,
esoteric, ahd expensive to perform (p. 4).

 

 

55

cushavatar form which had its roots in the seventh century in the
xmth Konkan region, which is the coastal strip of Maharashtra, just

rwrth of Goa. Dashavatar literally means the ten incarnations of

 

Um god Vishnu. The dramatic material comes from the Hindu mythology
mm deals with Vishnu in the first four lives that are not human and
Hm next four that are. The ninth form is the incarnation as Buddha,

mm the tenth is the form which will inaugurate a "new and better

age."11

The form of dashavatar may be compared with musical opera.

 

Performers are all males, one of whom narrates the story while the
others mime the action and sing and partake in brief segments of
dialogue. There is, however, no characterization expressed through
build-up of dialogue. Characterization is sketched through narration
only. Performances were held mostly during religious festivals, in
the courtyards of temples.

12

A typical dashavatar play is the Story of Rama, taken from

 

the ancient Ramayana. It covers the banishment of Rama (one of the
incarnations of Vishnu), to the forest, the kidnapping of Rama's
beautiful wife, Sita, by Ravanna (personification of evil), and Rama's
eventual triumph over evil with the help of Hanuman, king of the monkeys
and the personification of devotion, Rama and Sita are happily reunited

at the end of the piece.

_—

HR. C. Zaehner, Hinduism (New York: Oxford University Press,
I966). p. 91.

12V. K. Joshi, _p, 313,, p. 8.

 

56

Tamasha has more in common (formalistically, if not in

subject-matter as well) with dashavatar than with any other of the

 

early Maharashtrian folk forms.13 This is true especially of the
component featuring story-telling through narration, mime, and
song, which may be found in most segments of the modern Tamasha.
More specific dashavatar features that influenced Tamasha are the
skit called 5313, which is similar to the g33133_segment of the
later Tamashas, and a clown-like stock comic character reminiscent
of the Tamasha songadya.

Dashavatar itself declined in popularity over the centuries,
and it all but disappeared after the early eighteenth century, about
the time the Maratha Peshvas (Prime Ministers) became involved in
the fatal series of wars that culminated in defeat (l8l8) at the
hands of the British. More secular Tamasha entertainments quickly
filled the vacuum--the 333133, the 331333_heroic ballads and the
131331 love songs.

Another early dramatic entertainment which influenced the
development of Tamasha, was the 333333, a form created by the M3333_
untouchable community and used with effectiveness for devotional
propaganda by the Maharashtra saints14 who represented the 333331

cults of Hinduism.15 The saints were reformers, and their goal, like

.k

13Vijay Tendulkar, private interview, Poona, February, l97l.

14v. K. Joshi, 3p_. 33_t_., pp. 34-41.

15Bhakti is one of three paths to the Absolute, according to
the _Bh_agavad-Gita, the other two being the path of Knowledge (dn ana),
and the path of action (karma). See R. C. Zaehner, 33. 9113., pp. 25-
'M6. The bhakti cults flourished from the thirteenth to the eighteenth
Cflfiuries, and among the renowned names in Maharashtra are Dnyaneshvar

 

 

 

57

that of the sixteenth—century saint-poet Eknath, was to break down
social barriers among the people, especially those of caste.

The 333333_was a dramatic form of poetic recital. It was
written in simple, unsophisticated language in order that it could
be understood easily by the rural masses. Eknath made great use of
the 333333, He wrote some 300 compositions ranging across 125
different themes. His bharuds contained allegorical descriptions
of the inequities of the caste system; the play of Krishna and the
gaulans, especially his beloved Radha; the ways of gods and men;
festival observances; and problems of daily life. Performances were
conducted in private or community religious festivals; later,
performers were born into the profession through heredity.

Eknath's 333333_was fashioned along principles of beauty and
sensuousness for popular appeal. The lines appeared outwardly
romantic, but they had double meanings of a spiritual nature and
the intended "messages" attempted to turn people toward devotion
and the transcendentalist vision of Lord Shiva locked in loving
embrace with his reconciling shaktis, or powers. Eknath, and the
other poet-saints who came after him, turned often to the Krishna-
g33133_myth as a frame-work for their 333:33_compositions. Some
entertainments described the lives of the milkmaids and the qualities

ofLord Krishna and of Radha. The mythological base as well as the

—._

(Hfirteenth century), Namdev (fourteenth century), Eknath (sixteenth
cahmry). and Tukaram (seventeenth century). Their writings included
chmecteristic abhangas, or short devotional hymns. The bhakti

nmwmmnt originated in the transcendentalist vision of the intimate

mm “separable loving unity of Lord Shiva, the destroyer, and his
ramnciling parts, shaktis--his powers. Later, folk artists influenced
AYthe Maharashtrian saints, became known for their shiva-shakti per-
fOrmances, characterized by strongly sensual imagery.

 

 

"‘P .l p-
“ W l

O a

T" J,

no"! l‘v
.

"5 'gA-a .

ii
19!, '

 

 

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In.
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‘5...
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58

form of the 333333 were used as unchanging, familiar "pegs" upon
which to hang their messages. As we shall see in Part 2 of this
study, the same technique was adopted by modern social reformers
and propagandists working with Tamasha.

The sensual beauty of songs and dialogues of the poet-saints
appealed to the shahirs of Maharashtra who later shaped their own
poetic conceits into a more secular entertainment that became part
of the Tamasha form. Saint Janabi's dialogue for one of the gaulans,
for example, expresses the secular flair of the shahir's creations,
and is reminiscent of the later g33133_segments of Tamasha:

(To RADHA) Radha, somebody's calling you. Somebody dressed in
black and with a choli [blouse] decorated with a fine border.

And she has diamonds in her hair. She's a devotee of
Krishna.

 

From the 333333_came the more sophisticated and elite play
of the gods--the 13111_form--which served as court entertainment
during religious festivals.17 Because it was such a rarified enter-
tainment, serious writers of the nineteenth century experimented

with lalit (as well as with the gondhal and dashavatar forms) in

 

their efforts to establish a sophisticated and thoroughly urban
Marathi theatre tradition.18 The work of Vishnudas Bhave (b.l8l9 or

l820), which is partly based on the lalit, is cited as the beginning

 

16v. K. Joshi, 93. cit., p. 41.
I7Ibid., pp. 42-43.

18Hemenchanath Das Gupta, The Indian Stage, Vol. III,
huroduction; see also The Marathi Theatre, l843 to l96O (Bombay:
Pomnar Book Depot, for the Marathi Natya Parishad Dramatic
Association, l96l), pp. l-8.

 

 

 

59

of urban Marathi drama; 'L3111§_are rarely seen today although All-
India Radio tried for a time to revive it in the Poona region.19

Gondhals are minstrel songs in praise of the Goddess Amba
Bhawani, performed at festivals or at the request of individuals
for private celebrations, such as weddings. There are two varieties
of gondhals which evolved over the years. The first is the simple
program of Marathi devotional songs using four characters: a
narrator (3315), an accompanist who provides the humor, and two
instrumentalists on the 333333?0 and the tuntuni.

The second variety of gondhal was performed almost exclusively
in villages and contained many songs and dances based on a single
melody. Content of this second type of gondhal was woven out of
stories on a variety of local, social, and devotional topics, and
performances were done in the name of Khandoba, god of war. Per-
formers were the devotees of the goddess Bhawani. By origin, they
were Marathas of the cultivator caste (53331).

Today, gondhal has been reduced to decorative functions at
private or public events. Whatever literary value there may have
been in the form during the seventeenth century has long since dis-
appeared. The gondhal gave to Tamasha its itinerant nature, its

sense of troupe inventiveness and of improvisation. If serious

19K. G. Kelkar, Program Executive, All-India Radio, private
interview, Bombay, January 5, l97l.

204 small drum, with hourglass shape: A small ball attached
to a string strikes the drumheads alternately when the player rolls
the instrument from side to side, producing rhythmic beats. It is
apmpular instrument of Indian jugglers, wandering minstrels, and
hmnkey trainers.

 

6O

(hematists consciously tried to incorporate elements of its style
in their own works, the Tamasha artists were more unconscious in
‘Umir own borrowings that served to enrich the Tamasha form.21
To these early forms must be added the 515333, a one-man
musical sermon which may last an hour or longer, and which is
interspersed with devotional songs (bhajans) sung in unison with
gathered spectators. Because of its flexible nature, the k1:133_
provided the narrator-singer the opportunity of introducing a
wealth of contemporary social considerations into his work.22
Influence upon the later Tamasha form is traced to the inventive
and supple use of language, especially in narrative and anecdotal
double-entendres.23
Leading Marathi novelist, critic and musical authority,
Professor N. C. Phadke, has spoken of k1:133_and Tamasha as the
two folk art forms unique to Maharashtra today:
The art of Tamasha, which leads you to the temple of
eros, and the 513133, which leads you to the temple of
devotion, are two forms of art with no parallel in the rest

of India. They are bound to survive and develop along with
the general cultural development of Maharashtra.24

 

 

21Vasant Bapat, private interview, Bombay, November, l970.

22K. Narain Kale, I'Form and Function of Mass Media,” un-
published paper read at Symposium on Language, Arts and Mass Culture
in India, Duke University, N.C., March l3-l5, l970, p. 6.

23Durga Bhagvat, 133, 311,

24Prof. N. C. Phadke, tape-recorded speech, reception for
Tmmmha artist Bapurao Punekar, Poona, August 25, l970.

 

 

 

 

' o

 

   

 

 

.

u H
‘-

‘

l

I

n -‘
.

&

 

 

 

6T

Emergence, Consolidation of the Form

In this chapter, discussion has so far been limited to the
possible origins of Tamasha. It was suggested that the form developed
out of the decayed remains of the short-lived Sanskrit dramatic
tradition, and elements of the later Prakrit entertainments indigenous
to Maharashtra, and that it combined with the dominant unifying force--
the Moghul entertainment format which contained 333333-inspired dances
and Urdu song forms.

There is no historical record of the actual emergence of
Tamasha as a discrete form because it is part of an unwritten story
of the lives of the untouchable classes and out-caste communities25
in Maharashtra, who joined with Muslim artists to entertain the
Moghul armies, and subsequently the rural populace.

Two claims, however, have been offered as probable accounts
of the emergence of Tamasha. One is by V. K. Joshi, who believes
the form emerged after l686, replacing an earlier popular form,

gammat, which had its own origins in l490. The Tamasha of l686 was

called Khael Tamasha, or Tamasha performance.26

 

Another suggestion is that of Namdev Vatkar, who dates the
first performance of Tamasha back to l599. At the close of the
seventeenth century, he adds, itinerant troupes were already engaged

in tours of villages in patterns which have continued to the present

 

25Untouchables were forbidden by caste tradition from learning
toread or write, and the literate elites displayed no interest in
reunding the developing oral tradition among these communities.

26v. K. Joshi, 33. 333., p. 95.

 
 
 

 

62

day. By working and travelling together in troupes, performers
were soon able to adopt kathak dance influences and Urdu song forms
and to enrich their productions with Marathi song forms, such as

the govada ballad, and with dramatic elements of the dashavatar,

 

bharud, lalit and other indigenous Maharashtrian forms. Eventually,
the g33_and g33133_segments were made formal additions to Tamasha.27

Although Joshi and Vatkar differ in their dating schemes,
both allow for a process of introduction, integration, and consoli-
dation of entertainment form elements through the seventeenth
century.28

We must conclude, therefore, that no exact date can be placed
,upon the emergence of the form, as a fully integrated mixture of
foreign (Moghul) and Maharashtrian components, and that the late
seventeenth century may serve as the closest approximation to such
a date.

The content of the newly emergent form down to l707 (the end
of the Maratha Kingdom) was characterized by masculine themes of
battle, bravery, and war, and by harsh elements of raw, bawdy humor,
and lewd dance gestures for amusement and titillation. The later
refinements of the £33333_period introduced more gentle themes of

love and religious devotion.29

27Namdev Vatkar, 33, 313,, pp. lO-ZO.

28The lavani song-and—dance form, as we have mentioned previ-
<nnly, was perfected as a refined element during the Peshva period
(lMN-l8l8); while the farce and the 33g_(folk drama) were additions
atUjbuted to the nineteenth century.

29Y. N. Kelkar, literary historian, private interview, Poona,
July. 1971.

on

u

 

 

 

63

In any discussion of content, mention must be made of the
333313, or people's poet, whose compositions, poems, and, more
recently, written scenaries and dialogues, represent the substance
and literary core of Tamasha.30

The first in the line of respected shahirs was Agindas,
whose nationalistic povadas were dedicated to extolling the bravery
of Shivaji the Great. His best-known works are said to date from
1645, and they were composed in the "_3333_f style of 3333337writing,

which was apparently reserved for war-time and which had nearly

disappeared from disuse. In Shivaji's lifetime, dangat povadas were

 

revived to help stir the people against the ruling Moghuls. According
to Shahir Atmaran Patil, an authority on the shahiri tradition, these
compositions were characterized by a lack of refrain, a stylistic
feature that was continued by later shahirs, including Yamaji and
Tulsidas, down to about 1731.31
During the Maratha kingdom, the 333313_used his talents
performing in Tamasha troupes in enemy camps in order to gain military

secrets, and he also helped to inspire the populace to fight tne enemy.

A "mirror of society," the ”conscience of the people," he brought

 

3OFor background information and views in this chapter on the
relative artistic merits of the shahirs, I am indebted to conversations
with Shahir Atmaram Patil (Bombay, March 11, 1971), literary historian
Y. N. Kelkar (Poona, July, 1971), and to the following published
materials: articles by Atmaram Patil, Shahir Hinge, Nagnath Shitole,
Shahir Sable, and Rajabhau Thitey, in Shahir Naubat (March, 1970);
V. Kl Joshi,_33._313., Chapt. 10, pp. 185-240; Namdev Vatkar, 33, 313,,
DP. 5-19.

 

3IAtmaram Patil, ”Such is the Shahiri Tradition," Shahir
Nmflmt (March, 1970), pp. 11, 12, 73.

a - K
I .\‘_
I i u

-.o.-
\'

I‘M-

‘~..

 

 

 

vl‘

 

64

awareness and understanding through the medium of govadas and other

shahiri entertainments.32

The Golden Age (To Baji Rao II)

Nanaji Peshve was the first in the line of Peshvas, or Prime
Ministers. A lover of the arts, Nanaji was fond of singing and
dancing, and he introduced Tamasha-style dancing in the court. In
time, refinements were made, and on one occasion, a male dancer was
disguised as a 333133, with bells tied about his ankles to accentuate

his movements. In this way, we are told, the modern lavani tradition

 

was born.33

The Tamasha of 333333 times was known as 3331317Tamasha, and
a typical troupe was made up of a 333333_or a 3313 (a stage manager,
organizer); a 3331317player; a 33337player (tambourine-player);
tuntuni-player; a male dancer or 333333, who impersonated a female;
and three or four auxiliary performers (333333, or zeelkari), who
provided singing continuity. A 333313_was generally in overall
charge of the troupe. Performances included the following elements:
the invocational 333, the 333133, lasting about thirty minutes; a
fifteen-minute heroic ballad (333333); and a final hour of lavanis,
the exact length of this section depending upon audience enthusiasm.
The closing number would generally be a 331333, which carries
respect for the tradition of the great shahirs and which asks for

their blessings. (The 333, it should be recalled, was developed

k

32Shahir Hinge, “Strike the 33f_of Your Faith," Shahir Naubat
(March, 1970), pp. 17-20.

33

 

Atmaram Patil, 33, ci ., p. 73.

 

 

 

65

only after 1818.) Artists of the time ranged themselves on either
side of the Shiva-shakti rhetorical question: "Which is greater . . .

the god Shiva, or power and strength?" The competitions reached their

height after 1794.34

It was under the rule of the last of the Peshvas that the
greatest support for the folk art was lavishly made available. Peshva
Ehji Rao 11 was accused of many vices--heavy drinking and indulging
in sex orgies, among others. But his great passion was Tamasha. He
brought professional women singers to Poona for the first time, and
he housed these courtesans in a specially constructed building with
fifty-two apartments.

Baji Rao's court poets and shahirs wrote 133331_love songs
GSJDEClaITy for private performances by women artists,35 with the
rwesmflt that a more intimate and delicate baithak lavani evolved as
ari alternative to the regular theatre performance style of 133331,

With generous support, the shahirs turned from compositions

oi: the tough dan3at povada, mentioned previously, to the more complex

 

ruarrative-style Bovada, with its pleasing refrains, and to the lavani

song form.36

Most revered of the shahirs of the Peshva period are Anant
Phandi (b.1744), Prabhakar (b.1754), Parshuram (b.1754), Ram Joshi

(b. 1762?), Sagan Bhao (b.1778), Honaji (b. 1754), and Haubatti

\
34V. K. Joshi, 33. 313., pp. 122-130.

Tan 5Female singers and dancers did not at this time perform in
asha troupes; it was, however, permissible for them to appear in

Private performances (baithaks) .

6Atmaram Patil, 33. 333., p. 74.

 

 

66

(b.1794). Because the tradition of Tamasha rests so much upon the
artistry of these shahirs, a word on each is called for.

Anant Phandi lived most of his life in Poona. He wrote many
lavanis and 30vadas, and he performed in Tamasha troupes. Later in
life he turned from pure entertainment to write and perform devotional
songs, for which he gained wide fame. In a moment of despair, he
wrote the following bleak lines in a 333333;

Oh, how the times have reversed themselves!
The servant won't listen to his master.
They have all become proud.

The world's in such a mess. 37

It's plunging into nothingness.

Shahir Prabhakar came to seek his fortune at the court in
l>oona while he was in his early twenties. He is known for his
cxompositions of 30vadas on historical themes as well as for his
'lavani songs. He did not, however, perform his own works.

Parshuram was a tailor by trade, but he gained fame for his
‘Lyrical lavanis. He received many commissions for compositions,
rnainly on themes dealing with Maratha rule and the post-E33333_
takeover by the British. He was also highly regarded as a singer.

Ram Joshi's life-story is the most romantic of them all
because he crossed caste barriers for the love of Tamasha. At the
age of’ twenty he turned against his Brahmin background and left his
home if! Sholapur to travel with a Tamasha troupe, for which he wrote

and performed lavanis and Eovadas. One of his many 30vadas deals

With the changes in Poona after the Peshvas came to power:

\\

37v. K. Joshi, 33. 3i3., p. 194.

 

 

67

The Peshva ministers are loved by all.

They've made Poona City a lovely place,

And built sufficient water tanks.

There's an ocean of water now, and no poverty,

And lots of people and crowded markets.

No city as fine as fair Poona.

All are happy except handfuls of beggars,

And everywhere there'g entertainment.

What more can I say?3

Sagan Bhau was a Muslim from the village of Jejuri, near

Poona. He started out in life sharpening knives to earn a living,
but he soon turned to the performing arts, playing the single-
stringed tuntuni and writing popular sensuous lavanis.

Honaji found his vocation as a shahir after working as a
inilkman. His popularity rests upon lavani songs dealing, appropriately
eruaugh, with the Krishna-milkmaid myths. His writing attracted the
canrt circles and he was once invited to perform before Peshva Baji
12ac3 II. As a result of his collaboration with the singer Bala
Kaicanjkar, Honaji is now referred to as Honaji Bala.

Haubatti is not generally listed among the renowned shahirs,

pnnssibly because there was little sensual content in his compositions.

His hwjting concentrated upon the sawal-jabab, or question—and-

 

answer riddle form, and he is reputed to have written thousands of
poems in this form. He died without having earned any public
recognition for his talents.

In conclusion, the E33333_period is generally considered to

have been the golden age of Tamasha. The folk form flourished as never

before, largely because of generous patronage by the prime ministers.

\
38mm.

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, p. 197.

 

 

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68

Decline

The abrupt end of E33333_rule came in 1818 when the British
assumed control in Maharashtra. It was also the abrupt end of patronage
for Tamasha. The artistry, particularly the poetry, declined swiftly
and was once again thrown back upon daulat-jadda for support--a feature
which quickly became debased, as noted previously. Loss of patronage
also meant loss of whatever measure of social status the better
artists had managed to acquire during the 333333 age. (To this day,
with the exception of the urban loknat3a artists, most Tamasha
performers still lack any real social status or recognition as
professional artists.)

Economic hardships and hunger and disease plagued the artists
iritheir travels and during their performances, and this in turn led
to a collapse of artistic standards.

Except for the brief career of Patthe Bapurao, and other
'iscflated pockets of excellent performers and performances (from about
1880 to 1930), the state of the art declined steadily until the 19405.
In Patthe Bapurao, the tradition of pure entertainment found its

last brilliant exponent.

Renaissance (Patthe Bapurao)

Patthe Bapurao (1866-1945), is generally acknowledged as the
last 01’ the great traditional shahirs who composed beautiful and
sensuous lavanis, gaulans, and 3333 for Tamasha performances.

He was born in the Satara district, south of Poona. Like

the 1tamed Shahir Ram Joshi before him, Bapurao was a Brahmin. In

 

 

 

 

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69

his youth he attended baithaks, or private Tamasha performances, given
by the 33333_untouchable community, and soon he began to mix socially
with the artists. He wrote new songs for them and taught them to

sing properly in a manner which added form and structure to their
Tamashas.

Protests by his family were to no avail, and the young poet
left home to pursue his new-found profession. In Bombay, he formed
his own troupe and quickly gained wide acclaim for his artistry.
People came from all over Maharashtra to see his troupe perform, and
there were day-long lines for tickets at his theatre in Bombay.

He wrote songs, gaulans, and 3333_with ease and with a “fine
poet's touch."39 He would create his poems onstage, on the spur of
‘the moment. His poems were mostly about love and they were marked
lay a high order of lyricism. The sensual appeal may be appreciated

ttisome extent in this English rendition of his lavani, "No Marriage

for Me:"

Oh dear I don't want to marry!
I'm bored with men.
They're all unfaithful,
And their thoughts blow with the wind.
They always harass us poor women.
I've heard it all before.
That's why I won't have any wedding.
Idomen are naturally gullible.
TWiey value virtue above all.
Marriage would be poison for me,
OY‘ imprisonment for life.
0*! dear, I won't get married!

Why give a life-time to one man?
1'1 'the end, it's just a job.

\

39Vinayak Bhave, private interview, Bombay, November 10,

 

 

70
What else can I say?
Oh, dear, I won't get married!40

From a song expressing a woman's point of view, Bapurao could
turn effortlessly to a male view. Here are a few lines from another
level:

You're the best among one thousand.

None have your fine speech.

I wonder who your master is who guards you,

And who will ask for you in your old age?

Did you ever ask yourself? 4]
Say, come into the courtyard and let me see your face.

In 1905, he won the dancer Pavala at a contest of wits which
is now legendary in Maharashtra. He married the girl but it was to
prove the beginning of a decline in the fortunes of his troupe. Pavala
eventually left Bapurao. He quit his profession after 1920 and died
iri poverty and obscurity in 1945.

But his legacy to the sensual tradition of Tamasha is said
tt) be a rich one. To this day, his compositions and dramatic pieces
are performed by troupes throughout the State. There is, I am told
by informants, no great social concern or message in the body of his
cxmnpositions; mostly, it is good entertainment. Bapurao may have
been out of step with the times--there were a number of revolutionary
movements sweeping the State while he lived and the "raw" Tamasha
was everywhere in a state of decline--but he apparently knew how to

charm Marathi audiences, and for this he earned an important place

in the culture of Maharashtra.
\

pa 40My adaptation of a translation appearing in an unpublished
per by Miss Emily Estes, "Maharashtra Folk Theatre," for Colorado

University, December, 1970.

41v. K. Joshi, 33. _ci_t., p. 206.

 

 

71

On the twelfth anniversary of Bapurao's death, the noted
Marathi dramatist P. K. Atre (now deceased) was moved to declare:
"Bapurao was not a name but an inspiration."42

If one can speak of Bapurao's work as effecting a renaissance
cfi'Tamasha it is in the sense that he set a standard for the 333131:
3333_Tamasha form: an ordering of elements which has become accepted

Unoughout the State. He also established standard use of the 333_

for dholki-baaris,43 and he introduced female dancers to the Tamasha

 

stage. When Tamasha revived as an art form in the mid-19505, the
leaders of the revival turned back to Bapurao's standards as a guide

for'excellence and devotion to the form.44

Twentieth Century

At the start of the twentieth century only one performing
frilk artist was known to have amassed considerable wealth from
Tamasha performances. She was Kausalya Kopar Gaunkar, who could
command trays of silver from village rulers.45 But she was the
exception to the rule at a time when most artists lived in poverty,
victims of a cash economy which was then penetrating villages and
cities alike. Money was rapidly replacing silver, food, and other

gifts, as payment to the artists.

h;

 

‘42Atre's comments were carried in the Bombay daily Maratha,
December 25, 1957.

43v. K. Joshi,33.31_3., p. 157.

44Rajabhau Thitey, private interview, Poona, April 3, 1971.

45Vinayak Bhave, private interview, Bombay, November 10, 1970.

A—A_——‘_‘

___-____-___‘
w—v—i

 

 

72

The turn of the century was also the time of the rise of a
new professional class of entertainment contractors or impressarios.
This development, while initially beneficial to the performers, soon
degenerated into a new kind of exploitation of talent.

The decline in performance standards and in the economic
fortunes of artists affected the sangeet-baaris most seriously, and
not until the 19505 was any effort made to improve the situation,
as we shall see in Chapter IV of this study. (But even these recent
efforts were only token ones, notwithstanding the highly vocal
demands of a handful of concerned intellectuals.)

The early twentieth century was not as harsh upon the 333131;
1333313. The 333 folk drama form, as improved by Patthe Bapurao,
(quickly became the core interest of dholki-baari entertainment. But,
tzy 1930, the economic malaise had begun to affect these performers,
aru1333_presentations became dull and routinized, lacking in social
'interest, or even in innovative storyline creations.46

But just when the fortunes of the troupes (collectively) and
the performers (individually) appeared to reach their lowest point
(about 1930), a new impulse was being fashioned among the shahirs
which was to have important consequences for the future survival of
the TEunasha form, as well as for its new directions. The impulse
was t0 loe found in the writings, compositions, and performances of
SUP“ Sfialfirs as Sunbe, Naniwadekar, Gavankar, Amar Shaikh, Annabhau

Sathe, and Bhandare--all of them activists, and all concerned with
\

46Namdev Vatkar, 33. 333., p. 21.

 

fr?

 

I970) , pp. 35‘37.

 

73

effecting social or political change in Maharashtra:' This new strain
of shahiri creation was to reach its most complete expression in the
years immediately preceding Indian Independence, and it would influence
a new generation of shahirs prominent in the post-Independence period,
particularly Atmaram Patil, Shahir Sable, Shahir Pharande, Shahir
Hinge, and other artists.47
The seeds of this new, socially conscious shahiri tradition
were sewn somewhat earlier, in developments dating back to about 1870,
when Jotirao Phule, founder of the non-Brahmin movement, turned to
writing 30vadas in an effort to disseminate his reformist ideas.
Phule's followers, the Truthseekers, continued to utilize the 333333_
in preaching to the people. Shortly thereafter, Lokamanya Tilak,
the father of anti-British resistance in Maharashtra, also turned
‘to shahiri methods and styles of composition and performance when
he created the 3333 festival in 1893.48
E33333_singers worked unceasingly in the late 19305 and through
the 19405 in pursuit of an independent India. They sought ideals from

the works of Tilak and Gandhi, and they brought these ideals to the

people in small propaganda troupes, called kala-pathaks, or cultural

 

Squads, Some of the more commited shahirs were jailed for their anti-
British propaganda work.
The Communist cause produced the most eloquent and persuasive

team crf shahirs. They performed individually at first and later

\

47Rajabhao Thitey, ”Shahiri Union,” Shahir Naubat (March,

48See Chapter V for further details on the use made of Tamasha

Elements by the Truthseekers and by Tilak's movement.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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74

joined together to create their own Tamasha troupe. The most prominent
names in this connection were Gavankar, Shaikh, and Sathe, of whom
more will be said in Chapter V of this study.

After Independence, other causes caught the attention and the
talents of the committed shahirs. These causes included linguistic
rights for Maharashtrians; the Free Goa movement; the 1962 Chinese
invasion of India; and the Indo-Pakistan wars.

From a twentieth century perspective, it is possible to
discern three kinds of shahiri compositions: (l) Povadas and
loknat3as on political, social, and educational subjects, with

revolutionary zeal and fervor; (2) Shiva-shakti compositions to

 

glorify history and to propagandise the mythological base of Hindu
society; and (3) Sensuous lavanis, performed by Tamasha troupes in
villages and cities. Of the three types, the first appears to be
in favor today as social awareness and the modernization process

develop. Nevertheless, the Shiva-shakti shahirs are still surviving,

 

singing povadas about 333333 times. As for the sensuous tradition,
it languished over the years. Patthe Bapurao was the last 333313_
of sensuous Tamasha songs and dances.49
Today, the tradition has lost some of its romantic allure,
possibly because literacy rates have increased in Maharashtra and
more pe0p1e are able to read about historical and news events, and

also because radio is pervasive enough in the villages to bring

efifective coverage of local, regional, and national events and issues,

¥

49Atmaram Patil,__3..313., p. 80.

I.

 

75

lmreover, film is now reaching ever-increasing segments of the rural
population. Finally, some of the greatest of the modern shahirs are
rm more. Sathe, Shaikh, and most recently Gavankar, are now dead.
Increasingly, the dedicated 333313 is being manipulated to
serve government or party politics.50 Often, he is ignored unless
he happens to be working with a well-known troupe, or unless he runs
his own troupe. As we shall see in Chapter III, Shahir Sable is one
of the few socially committed artists left who still runs an independ-

ent troupe.

50As a result of a growing sense of concern for the survival
ofthe shahiri tradition, hundreds of shahirs pooled their efforts in
19alto estaBlish a Maharashtra Shahir Parishad (Association). The
fOHowing year, a shahir‘s conference was held to inspire the shahirs
wmionce inspired the people. (A list of 328 of these folk artists
"731’ be consulted in Appendix F of this study.)

'v.

 

 

 

CHAPTER III

THE STATE OF THE ART TODAY

The purpose of this chapter is to present views on the state
of the folk form today in both the "raw" and loknat3a Tamasha tradi-
tions.

Attention to the distinction between the two traditions was
drawn in the Introduction to this study, and the features of both
were elaborated in Chapter I, while Chapter II provided the historical
and chronological line of development of Tamasha from its rural (raw)
beginnings to the urban (sophisticated, or loknat3a) strain. It was
also observed that both traditions were still flourishing side by
side throughout Maharashtra and that the “raw” Tamashas were appealing
to the villages and to working-class audiences in the cities, while
the "sophisticated" Tamashas were becoming increasingly popular as
wholesome family entertainments not only among the urban middle
classes, but also in the villages.

The present chapter introduces a further distinction which
isrequired for an understanding of the state of the art today: the
'WEW'tradition is largely an oral one, which does not easily lend
itmflf to study of content materials (except, possibly, for shahiri
so"95), and which is best understood by a study of the performers who

Pmmetuate the tradition; while loknat3a has already established

76

77

itself in its brief history as a literary tradition, based upon a
steadily growing body of literature (script materials) which may
be studied by the interested scholar or critic.1

Because of this additional distinguishing feature, the method
adopted to explain the state of the form today will be as follows:
(1) In the absence of a written tradition of "raw" Tamasha dramatic
content materials (excluding collections of shahiri song compositions),
we will examine the social and cultural setting of the ”raw'I per-
formers as well as the conditions of ”raw“ performance today; (2)
because loknat3a provides a wealth of content materials, we will
consider the contemporary themes and the aesthetic purposes of the
most prominent living playwrights, as well as the growing critical
receptivity of loknat3a by the theatre critics of the large daily
newspapers; and finally (3) we will make some reference to the most

recent challenge to Tamasha--the challenge of film and television.

The Raw Tamasha Tradition Today

 

The strength of the oral tradition which nourishes "raw"
Tamasha is best understood by some acquaintance with the social
and cultural background of today's performers. For this reason,
attention will be focused upon the Kolhatis and the 333333, two

of the untouchable communities linked to the early history of Tamasha.2

‘3

1In addition to published scripts (some of which are listed in
‘Um Marathi section of the Bibliography), there are typewritten copies
ofnmre than 5000 333 scenarios and full scripts in the files of the
Stage Performances Scrutiny Board in Bombay. A section on the Scrutiny
Board is included in Chapter IV, infra.

2For the discussion which follows on the Kolhatis and Mahars, I
an largely indebted to Vinayak Bhave, journalist and Tamasha enthuSiast
(private interviews, Bombay, November 10, 24, 1970). The information
has laeen verified by Durga Bhagvat in private interviews in January, 1971.

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78

Kolhati artists were among the first to be recruited into entertainment
troupes for the amusement of the warring Moghul and Maratha armies
during the seventeenth century; while the Mahars carried Tamasha from

the military camps to the villages.3

The Kolhatis

 

The Kolhatis are a Maharashtrian aborigines caste. 33133_
signifies either a bamboo stick or a jungle. 33331_means locality
or village. The meaning of the two words put together is "jungle
colony." The word Kolhati originated in an area of northern Mysore
State and Southern Maharashtra, overrun by jungle; it was therefore
natural that people from this area should be called Kolhatis.

The caste may have descended from the 33333_civilization,
which had spread, by the second century A.D., through South India,
Malaysia, Vietnam, and Cambodia. The 333333_most1y raised pigs,
since they lacked horses and cows--a factor which apparently hindered
their social and economic development in a Hindu vegetarian society.
The branch which moved to the jungles of South Maharashtra became
known as the Kolha-Mundas and they later split off into various com-
munities. One of these moved to the coast and became fishermen.

Not being bound by the meat-eating taboos of the Hindus and
iMwlims, the Kolhatis ate pork as part of their regular diet. To

Ufis day, the Kolhatis of the South Maharashtrian regions raise pigs
asa primary occupation, and many Kolhati Tamasha artists return to

335 work in the off-season.

—_

3Among other untouchable groups associated with the history of
Tamasha are the Mangs, the Marathis, and the Bhillas.

 

 

79

The tribes of the Kolhatis had originally undertaken their
migrations in search of arable land. It was a matter of survival.
As a result, they became semi-nomads, living in make-shift huts on
the outskirts of cities, towns, and villages. Here they raised their
pigs, made combs from buffalo horns, and demonstrated their renowned
gymnastic abilities. In time, the Kolhatis developed as village
acrobats and soon they formed troupes of tight-rope walkers with
singing and dancing accompaniment. Eventually, the men were
recruited into the Tamasha troupes, as we have mentioned previously.

But girls of the tribe were reputed to be the better acrobats,
and they, too, were permitted to join the Tamashas, mainly the sangeet-
333313, when the taboo against female performers was overcome in the
nineteenth century. The Kolhati women, it seems, were free of the
prevailing social taboos. (The Kolhatis are structured along
matriarchal lines.)

There are two main sub-divisions of the caste: the 3311;

Kolhatis, and the more numerous Bhathu-Kolhatis. The Mali-Kolhatis

 

 

were the subject of close study by the socially concerned journalist,
Vinayak Bhave. He worked among them from 1958-1962, and he estimates
their number today at 12,000, and that of the Bhathu-Kolhatis at

50,000.4

 

There were twelve and a half clans in the Mali-Kolhati sub-

 

cmste. "The half clan," says Bhave, "is the lowest on the social

mmle, and their members are obliged to marry only within their own

k

4These figures can only be regarded as estimates since the
listing of population by caste has been omitted from Indian census
tables since the 19305.

 

“v I I n 4 I. up 1.. . I. I . q

 

80

group. Fortunately, this half clan numbers only forty. The others
are more numerous, ranging from 400 to 700 members.”

The position of women among the Kolhatis is of special
interest. They predominate over their men in numerical ratio.
Prevented by taboos from marrying outside the main caste division,
and subject to certain restrictions on marriages between the clans
within the caste division, ten per cent of the women will never
have the opportunity to marry. As a result, they tend to have few
moral constraints. Given the predominant matriarchal structure, a
woman might have as many men as she wished. 0f the ten per cent who
will never marry, most become mistresses or prostitutes to escape the
overwhelming poverty into which they are born.

The Mali-Kolhatis today inhabit the western region of

 

Maharashtra, which came under the rule of Shivaji the Great after

his armies defeated the Moghuls in the seventeenth century. In an
effort to reform village society, Shivaji instituted stringent moral
standards which did not tolerate pre-marital relationships or prosti-
tution. Fines were levied upon relatives for transgressions and
women were ostracized from the main group. If there were trans-
gressions from within the caste grouping, forced marriage might end
the difficulty.

However, Shivaji's rule did not extend to the eastern regions
ofMaharashtra, where the Muslim 31333_continued to rule independent
0f the Moghuls. The Kolhatis living in this region, therefore, were
mwer subject to the new moral code. This group survives today as

um Bhathu-Kolhati sub-caste.

 

 

81

Among this more numerous sub-caste, the rule prevails that a
girl who becomes a singer or dancer cannot marry. Consequently, if
a parent of three daughters can marry off at least two (considering
that females outnumber males), he can send the third into the enter-
tainment world, giving her the freedom to become a mistress or to
earn extra money as a prostitute. There appears to be no moral
difficulty here and ostracism does not apply.

For these reasons, prostitution is openly associated with
the Tamasha troupes made up of Kolhatis coming from Eastern
Maharashtra. The tradition is also the cause of much trouble in
modern Tamasha entertainment because it brings into direct conflict

the Malis and the Bhathus. The Bhathu-Kolhati performers are rela-

 

tively wealthy. Daughters born of out-of-marriage liaisons receive
good education and fine artistic training in singing and dancing.
They, in turn, attract rich men from the cities and towns. By compari-
son, the Mali-Kolhatis, although nobler in moral outlook, are poorer
in their pockets, according to Bhave. The majority still live in
small huts. Among the women who cannot marry, most will become
faithful mistresses in relationships bordering on common-law marriages.
Unfortunately, the more faithful they are, the poorer they remain as
acommunity. And the competition with their 333333_fellow artists, in
putters of performance, education, and style of living, is exceedingly
fierce.

Bhave noted instances where members of both castes performed
Hmether on stage as part of the same troupe, but ate and lived apart.

‘Vt is not uncommon to see girls of both groups fighting each other

 

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82

backstage," he declared, "yet during performances they work remarkably
well together."

Bhathu-Mali rivalry has been exacerbated by the modern theatre
impressarios who have been importing 333333_troupes into South

Maharashtra where formerly the Malis dominated the sangeet-baari

 

circuit. It would seem that impressarios are interested in bigger
and better turnouts at the box-office, and that the Bhathus might
be expected to attract such turnouts in expectation of the extra
element of sensual titillation.

The situation in Eastern Maharashtra remains the same: the
Bhathus still dominate and the 33113_are less popular because of
their sense of moral constraint.

The city of Jalgaon is a particular strong-hold of the 333333;
Kolhatis. At Tamasha performances, a certain convention has developed
between the all-male audiences and the female members of the performing
troupes. If a spectator is interested in one of the girls, he may put
some money in a match-box, walk up to the stage and present it to her

in a form of daulat-jadda.

The gesture, however, is more than the daulat-jadda previously

 

described. The man wants the girl. If she accepts the match-box, it

is as much as saying she is willing to meet him afterwards. The price

le be fixed after the performance.

Confusion may follow if a Mali-Kolhati girl performs at

 

&Hgaon, unaware of the local practice. Unwittingly, she may accept
theiwoffered match-box, which could lead to embarrassed misunder-

Standing. perhaps to a heated argument with an expectant male spectator.

 

 

83

The Mahars

Another of the untouchable sub-caste communities which
continues to replenish the ranks of Tamasha troupes, are the 333333,
Linked racially to the central Europeans, the 333333 are believed to
be part of the ancient Naga Culture of jungle dwellers which was
scattered following struggles with the conquering Aryans.5

After settling in Maharashtra, the 333333 engaged in agri-
culture, but they were soon subdued and driven from their lands by
the Scythians sometime after 2000 B.C. Being intelligent, however,
they quickly adapted to the new conditions and they assumed new
occupations of a more servile nature--watchmen, errand-runners, and
disposers of dead cattle. By the first century A.D. the 333333 had
become the largest untouchable community in Maharashtra. Today,
they number some five million and they are to be found in closed
communities on the fringes of nearly every village in the State.

Their lives were circumscribed by many restrictions: 333333
were not permitted to learn to read and write, which effectively
prevented them from participating in the upper-caste Sanskritic
religious culture of orthodox Hinduism. As a result, they developed
a unique culture with their own forms of religious practice and
devotional and dramatic forms. These forms were the prototypes of
components of the later Tamasha entertainments. Moreover, the 333333,
who worked as agricultural laborers, were noted for compositions of

arms on harvest themes which were, in fact, the earliest lavanis.

_—

Mr. Bhave's source is Dr. Iravati Karve's Anthropometric
Mggwrements of Maharashtra (Poona: Deccan College, n.d.).

 

 

 

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84

The dramatic form they evolved was the 333333 which was, as
mentioned in Chapter II, an improvised kind of farcical play based
on characters in Hindu mythology. The dialogue was broken by songs,
notably ballads, accompanied by instruments made by the 333333 them-
selves--the tuntuni and the tambourine-like 331, Villagers from
the higher-castes might attend performances, but the performers were
looked upon with disdain. I

From the thirteenth to the seventeenth centuries, the 333333_
was used by the Maharashtrian saints to overcome exploitation and
injustices in the prevailing caste system; but it was secularized
during the rule of Shivaji the Great, in the seventeenth century.
The songs and dialogues now spoke of love and the glories of political
and military power. Elements of these songs and dramas were quickly
absorbed within the larger framework of Tamasha--the melting pot of
a variety of rural art forms as well as of artists from various castes.

The 333333 moved Tamasha from the military camps to the
villages when they formed their own village troupes. By the late
nineteenth century, they had become widely known for their 333131-
333313 and their repertoire of 3333 or folk dramas.

Playwright Vyankatesh Madgulkar describes how a typical

33333_Tamasha troupe functioned about the turn of this century:

They took their story material from mythology and from
fables, such as the Arabian Nights. From the basic plot
structure they would improvise a whole va . One of the troupe
members served as the director, and he istributed roles ac-
cording to his interpretation of the scenario. At night,
returning from their work in the fields of Southern Maharashtra,

they would pguse at a resting house and rehearse their planned
productions.

—_

 

6Vyankatesh Madgulkar, playwright, private interview, Poona,
Januany, l97l.

85

The Mangs

The 33333 represent still another untouchable community in
Maharashtra associated with Tamasha. The 33333 are normally employed
in such menial occupations as disposing of dead cattle and making
rope. Curiously, they also do duty to the State by serving as
hangmen for executions. Among the better-known 3333 artists was
the dramatist Aba Mangrulkar, grandfather of the more radical

twentieth century Tamasha shahir--Annabhau Sathe.

The "Raw" Tamasha Artist
A generalized view of a "raw" Tamasha artist may be drawn
from writer Shankarao Kharat's interview with a Tamasha dancer and

singer of the Kolhati caste.7

A Tamasha girl is in the prime of her professional career
between twenty-five and thirty years of age. During these years,
her earning capacity is at its peak; her singing and dancing attract
wide audiences among the young and rich men. On some nights, a man
offering tips in daulat-jadda may ask to return to see her in the
morning. There is little danger of her running off with a suitor,
however, because she never forgets that she has the responsibility
of supporting her family back home in her native village. The
rationale is a traditional one in India: the parents have given

her birth and she must therefore support them throughout her own

7Shankarao Kharat, "Light at Night, Dark in the Morning,"
Stree. February, 1971, pp. 12-16, 89, 91. Kharat's description
“flees substantially with the information I obtained in private
unspmctured interviews (Bombay, November, 1970), with two female
artists, Lata Kolhapurkar and Jayashree Kolhapurkar.

 

3}. 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

86

life. And the overriding factor of poverty makes it unlikely she
could ever look forward to any other future.

How much money would she send home? An average figure is
set at eighty 333333 ($10.66) from her monthly earnings, which range
from 500 ($66.66) to 600 ($80.00) 333333, depending on how much of
an audience attraction she is. This earning capacity is generally
much higher than that of her male colleagues.8 After sending eighty
333333 home each month, the female artist will use the balance for
self support--food, clothing, and entertainment. It is very un-
likely that she will have much money left at the end of the month
for personal savings.

A girl working alone in a troupe must count upon her fellow
artists as her surrogate family, passed on to them by her own parents.
The bond is strong enough so that she will accept the guidance and
counsel of her colleagues.

Most artists lack any kind of formal education. Girls from
the Kolhati caste have little opportunity to receive any kind of
education because they would be sent to travel as child apprentices
with touring sangeet-baari troupes. Travelling constantly, there
would be no further possibility of gaining an education. 0n the
other hand, they quickly learn their artistry, and most are expected

to acquire that certain professional quality which marks the seasoned

stage performer.

k

Radhu Mali, who was sixty-three years of age in 1970, and
whOis a veteran songad3a of the I'raw” Tamasha circuit, told me
thatlfis average monthly earnings range from 500 rupees ($66.66)
to 550 rupees ($73.33). Private interview, Bombay, November, 1970.

87

Few girls manage to escape from this nomadic existence.
Some may find a boy from their own caste, marry, and leave the troupe,
or remain with the troupe, depending upon the husband's wishes.
Others, with fine voices, may excel and find rich opportunities in
the recording business. But these are apparently rare cases.
Marriage is the most unlikely possibility because, as previously
noted, the Kolhatis have a high ratio of eligible girls to eligible
boys, and the girls are forbidden to marry outside their caste.

Among the most famous Kolhati-dominated Tamasha troupes,
according to Shankarao Kharat, are those of Gulab Sangmannarkar,
Roshan Satarkar, Yashonda Waikar, Mathubai Indurikar, Changuna
Jejurikar, Shanta Uralikar, Haunsa Paru Jejurikar, Leela Padma

Talegaonkar, Hira Haunsa Saswadkar, Shevanta Jejurikar, and Chabu

Shirvalkar.

General Observations on the
“Raw” Artists

The reason untouchable castes have traditionally provided
so many of the artists for Tamasha troupes has already been suggested:
as landless and dispossessed people, they were free from taboos
respected by the higher castes and higher economic classes. One of
these taboos concerned public performances. Acting was frowned upon
by the higher castes in spite of the fact that it was recognized as
necessary for devotional processions, songs, and performances. It
musttm remembered that the higher castes had priests to perform
theh‘rites for them as well as classical singers and sophisticated

dmmmtic performers to help them enact religious celebrations.

88

Centuries ago religious rites could be practiced only in Sanskrit.
Use of the vernacular languages would have been considered vulgar.

But devotional expression was no less important among the
lower castes using vernaculars. The untouchables filled this need
using the Marathi language. In time, these untouchable performers
were recruited into the growing Tamasha tradition.

It wasn't until a handful of Brahmin shahirs became involved

 

in Tamasha, that the higher classes and castes began to take note
of the form. Shahir Ram Joshi was the first of this small group,
who broke his sacred Brahmin thread in the E33333_period. In the
modern period the most prominent Brahmin to join in Tamasha enter-
tainments was Patthe Bapurao, who became something of a folk hero
to the "raw" artists, as well as a model for the development of the

”sophisticated" loknat3a tradition.

"Raw" Tamasha Theatres and the Impressarios
Only the wealthy, “sophisticated“ Tamasha troupes can afford
to pay the crippling costs of production on the major urban stages.

An example is the production of Vasant Sabnis' Vichya Maji Puri

 

3333_("Fulfil My Desire.”) The reasons for the high cost of pro-
duction in urban centres stem from the fact that the theatre is
dominated by purely business interests which cater to middle and
upper class tastes in entertainment. On this scale of values,
Tamasha--especially "raw" Tamasha--is very far down the list.

On the lower rungs of this list, notes Vinayak Bhave,

amflher system prevails, mostly outside the Bombay-Poona region.

 

 

nf‘

89

This is the impressario system which exploits available Tamasha
talent.

There are contractors in different parts of the State who
hire a number of troupes on a per-diem basis. They rent or purchase
appropriate halls, theatres, or outdoor stages, for each performance.
Some contractors may set up touring arrangements for a group of
troupes covering a number of villages, towns, and cities. Rates
of pay for the artists vary, and much depends on the popularity of
troupes or individual artists. 3

There are three types of impressarios: (1) Those who hire
city theatres on annual contracts; (2) those who handle tours and
manage buses, tents, and bamboo gunnysack staging materials, and
enclosures; and (3) the outstanding Tamasha troupes which not only
manage and produce their own shows but hire other troupes by sub-
contract in order to present more fully-rounded programs.9

The first type of impressario is found in the cities and
larger towns. He may have under annual contract the Bombay Theatre
(Bombay) or the theatres at Sholapur, Kolhapur or Sangli. (The New
Hanuman Theatre at Bombay and the Aryabhushan theatre at Poona are
run on a different basis, as I will shortly indicate, because the
owners themselves hire troupes of their choice for short or long
term contracts, and both theatres are used solely for Tamashas the
year 'round. Most good troupes in the State will eventually find

their way into both of these theatres.)

h

9Vinayak Bhave, private interview, Bombay, November, 1970.

90

The touring contractor represents the second type of impres-
sario, whose activities are limited to village festivals and the
good-weather season. For the most part, these impressarios are
wealthy peasants or businessmen. Their investments in Tamasha are
short-term and normally very profitable arrangements, but the
artists rarely share in these good fortunes. There are exceptions,
however, notably Chatarsingh Thugaonkar and Anandrao Mahajan, who
provide for some share of the profits with the artists. Another,

is the Tamasha enthusiast and founder—member of the Maharashtra

 

Tamasha Parishad (Association), Rajabhau Thitey, a journalist by
profession.10 Mr. Thitey's experience is mostly related to loknat3a,
but it will be related here to indicate the method of operation of
the second type of impressario.

Since 1967, Thitey has contracted individual artists,
organized into five troupes, for annual village festival tours.
More than 250 performances were staged in this way. Thitey takes
professional care of this sideline occupation. He contracts each
artist separately for each programme, then handles all the pro-
duction details from correspondence to rentals, payment, and even
the nature of the productions themselves. “I choose the themes and
the story—lines every year and then I ask the artists to organize

11

the shows accordingly,” Thitey told me. He has also written more

 

10Idem.

HRajabhau Thitey, private interview, Poona, January, 1971.

91

elaborate story material for these troupes, including a scenario for
the vag, Sakha Majha Mantri Zala ("My Lover Will Become Minister.")

Twelve years earlier, Thitey received a 500 33333 ($66.66)
annual grant from the Government of Maharashtra to send troupes to
participate in theatre competitions. He registered the name Sam3ada
Theatres, Poona, after the name of his daughter, and rapidly developed
this sideline to the point where he was managing forty troupes for
a ten-day period each year, sending them to the September Gana3ati
festivals throughout the State. This smounted to 400 performances
each year. At the height of his contracting work, he did 75,000
333333 ($10,000) worth of business (gross) annually, but retained
only 1,000 333333 ($133) for his time and efforts. The balance of
the costs charged to village councils per troupe per day, went to
the artists.

The third type of Tamasha impressario is represented by
some of the more renowned troupes themselves. Rates of payment
vary, and only top artists in the sub-contracted troupes will be
offered equal pay with the main contracting troupe. The main
troupes in this category include those of Bapu Narayangaonkar and
Dattoba Tambe. Other renowned troupes, which commonly hire lesser-
known troupes to work with them are run by elder successful female
artists. These include Kamla Johara Jalaonkar, Manjula Kolhapurkar
and Kamla Chandanpurkar.12

Methods of payment for artists vary. A sangeet-baari is paid

 

onaibasis which is different from that for the dholki-baari.

‘

 

12Vinayak Bhave, 133, 311,

 

92

Normally, a sangeet-baari troupe, which features mostly singing
and dancing, will have a minimum of five or six female singers and
dancers as well as a male harmonium player, male 33313_or 333131_
player, and one or more additional male instrumentalists, as well
as the male jester, or son3ad3a. For such a troupe, the leader
(generally a woman), gets three shares of the troupe's income. She
commands two shares for her singing and dancing and the third is
acknowledged hers because she owns the musical instruments. The
other girls will receive two shares each if they are professionally
accomplished artists, or only one if they are apprentices. It is
conceivable a girl may receive one-and-a-half shares if she is
considered somewhere between apprentice and professional. Musicians
and the songad3a come last on the scale of payment, with one share
apiece.

Shares for a sangeet—baari troupe are divided after deductions

 

from gross income of such common expenditures as travel, food, and
rent. This situation leaves artists totally dependant upon gifts of

money (daulat-jadda) during performances. If a troupe is lucky it

 

may make an extra fifteen to 1003333333_($2.OO-$l3.33) per day in
this way, depending upon the looks of the women and their talents.
A different system of payment is involved for the 333131:
Egng, which are largely composed of loknat3a artists. Artists
areineditionally paid a fixed daily wage, in cash. A typical troupe
wfll have from ten to fifteen performers, including the leader, who
is generally a man. Among the actors are the star performer, the

hero, the villain, the songad3a and, of course, the beautiful heroine.

 

93

In addition, there are at least two singer-accompanists, a harmonium
player, one or two 3331317p1ayers, a cymbal player, a tuntuni-player,
and perhaps one or two other instrumentalists.

Payment to these artists will vary from 150 333333 ($20) per
artist per day to just ten_333333 ($1.33) each per day. If the
troupe has been contracted for an entire season of touring, an
artist may additionally receive one-way travel fare in advance of
the tour. This would still oblige members to pay half their own
travel costs. From the point of view of the contractor, a 333131;
33331_may collectively command daily payment of anywhere from fifty
($6.66) to 1,000 rupees ($133), depending upon the season, the place,
and the calibre of the artists.

The "good” season for both contractor and artist is the
winter, when fairs and religious festivals are held throughout the
State and the contractor can be sure of nightly audiences totaling
5,000 to 10,000 people.

The uneveness of the financial structure in the lives of
Tamasha artists, in both raw and loknatya troupes, the exploitation
by unscrupulous impressarios, and the resulting inability of many
inwformers to rise above the poverty line, are seen as major factors

hithe steady decline of the level of folk artistry from the turn of
tmzcentury to recent times. The problems are compounded by the
fmfl:that the majority of Tamasha artists come initially from back-
vmmiand economically deprived castes and classes. Few own land
fm~private cultivation and, when off-season comes, most become

rhiims of seasonal unemployment, except for the better troupes

 

94

which move to the cities. Since there is no security in the pro-
fession, artists and their families are forced to stretch earnings
cfi’months into a year. As we shall see in Chapter IV, the State
Government and bodies of concerned private individuals have tried

to introduce economic and social measures to build a healthy base
for the continuation of Tamasha. Many of these efforts, according
to Rajabhau Thitey, have proven to be I'steps in the right direction,
but the situation remains serious for the poorer troupes, and many

of the deprived artists are obliged to accept menial physical labor

1113

during the off-season to augment their meagre income. ‘Others

are driven to prostitution.

The New Hanuman Theatre is a typical “raw” Tamasha house.
Details of its operation accurately reflect the Operation of ‘
similar theatres in Poona, Kolhapur, Sholapur, Sangli and other
14

urban centres throughout Maharashtra.

In a normal one-year period, some fifty sangeet-baaris and

a dozen dholki-baaris may appear at the New Hanuman. This would

 

include 500 artists in the sangeet troupes and 300 in the dholki
troupes, for a total of 800 artists.

The average contract lasts one month, although a handful

ofthe best crowd-pleasing troupes may remain for as long as a year

13Rajabhau Thitey, private interview, Poona, January, 1971.

14Madhukar Nerale, proprietor, New Hanuman Theatre, private
inanyiew, Bombay, May,l97l. Additional material qualifying
Nmale's observations and comments was provided by Rajabhau Thitey,
thyak Bhave, and the manager of Poona's Aryabhushan Theatre.

 

95

or more. Normally, there is a large turnover, especially among the

dholki-baaris.

 

The four months of the monsoon are the most profitable for
the indoor Tamasha houses. It is a time when most of the "raw"
troupes end their village tours and the artists head for their homes;
but the best of the troupes come to the cities and install them-
selves in the closed theatres. This is also a time of renewed
public interest because it provides city folk with the opportunity
to see the best troupes in performance.

Attendance figures at the New Hanuman reflect a situation
which occurs in a number of other cities during monsoon time. The
theatre has a capacity of 600 spectators. During May to September
(the monsoon period), weekday attendance averages 300 and weekends
attract a full house, plus standing-room crowds. This contrasts
sharply with attendance figures from October to May, when average
daily attendance is down to about fifty persons; 350 on weekends.

But for a theatre entrepreneur, the upturn at monsoon time
is not sufficient to check the continuing decline in profits and
overall attendance figures. The situation is true for all "raw"
Tamasha theatres, and the pattern contrasts sharply with the record-
brmfldng houses that are recorded whenever new loknatya Tamashas

arepwesented in the larger and more respectable theatres.
The decline of urban working-class interest in "raw”
lmwsminmy be credited to significant changes in public taste over
tMeyears, based upon the spread of education and the proliferation

amipopularity of film. Unfortunately, most Tamasha artists have

 

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96

been unable to adapt styles of presentation and content to the
changing demands of audiences, and many languish in the economically
depressed conditions described earlier in this chapter.

In this situation, the proprietor of the New Hanuman,
Madhukar Nerale, finds that it is becoming increasingly unprofitable
to continue operations. But being devoted to Tamasha, he remains
confident that the "raw" Tamasha will revive and that he can per-

sonally contribute to such a revival.

Efforts to Revive Raw Tamasha
From a look at his record, this confidence may be justified:
Nerale continues to produce at the New Hanuman in the face of
unprofitable operations through the greater part of each year and
in the belief that his example will be followed by other producers.
In addition, he provides work to hundreds of artists, and helps them
to exploit opportunities for making extra money, such as private
performances (baithaks), in halls or in private homes.15
Moreover, when artists under contract to the New Hanuman
are asked to perform at State Government festivals, Nerale does not
insist on financial shares of earnings. (The New Hanuman and the
theatre at Sholapur are apparently the only Tamasha houses which do
notdemand shares; other contracting theatres have been known to

afl<for as much as half the fees paid to artists by the Government

fm~festival performances.) During the Ganapati and other religious

 

15Nerale claims he screens prospective clients for baithaks
bamuse he is concerned about the “moral welfare" of his artists.

 

97

festivals, however, the theatre itself may contract troupes out and
earnings may be shared equally between performers and Nerale.

Other efforts made by the New Hanuman to improve "raw”
Tamasha include personal encouragement of new Tamasha entertainments
at additional financial risk. One of these ventures was Nerale's
backing to Dadu Indurikar's Tamasha troupe for production in late

1970 of a new vag--Donkey's Marriage. After tryouts at the New

 

 

Hanuman, the production began a successful tour of villages, towns

and cities. By the summer of 1971, and after seven months of touring,
Indurikar had completed more than 160 performances. (Success radi-
cally changed the fortunes of Indurikar, whose career was almost
destroyed in 1970 when his van and tents were deliberately burnt
during a village tour, because of some rivalries with other troupes.
It was at this time that Nerale came to his aid.)

As a theatre owner and manager, Nerale is in a good position
to offer suggestions for reviving the "raw" Tamasha tradition and
helping the artists as well as the indoor theatres throughout the
State. He advises State Government cultural agencies to stop pouring
money into "folksy” festival productions of the old and established
songs and 3333, and to support, instead, new Tamasha entertainments,
vwitten, prepared, and produced by the artists themselves (in a

mmwmr not unlike, but with a freer hand than, the support given to
Qwemmmnt-sponsored troupes engaged in propaganda for social
dewflopment programs). In Nerale's view, the art form would then
imamm "a more accurate reflection of the changing times and changing

tastes of audiences . "

 

98

The Loknatya Tradition Today

 

The 'sophisticated' Tamashas-~the loknatyas--this is
for educated people. We know the actors ana the writers are
well paid. But it is not our theatre. We are poor people,
and our theatre offers only low wages.16

The above view is a "raw" Tamasha artist's distinction

between "raw" and "sophisticated” Tamashas. There is a sense of
resigned bitterness in these words, which is echoed in the comments
of another "raw" artist:

We are poor people and without education. So our voice
never reaches the ears of government in the way that the more
sophisti$3ted artists manage. So they get more assistance
than us.

The distinction is clearly drawn along economic lines.

But claims for the loknatya artist are no less important

for a comprehensive appreciation of the entire Tamasha tradition.
Chief among these claims is that the ”sophisticated" artists have
succeeded in refining and making more widely acceptable the enter-

]8 In the process,

tainments of their rural, rustic counterparts.
they have created a growing body of literature which is to be valued
for its own sake by literary critics, scholars, and theatre practi-
tioners.

The "sophisticated" artists are not typically members of

tMauntouchable communities; they may have been originally recruited

‘Hom these communities, but today they represent a cross-section of

—*

1 16Jayashree Kolhapurkar, private interview, Bombay, November,
970.

17Radhu Mali, private interview, Bombay, November, 1970.

18Vasant Bapat, private interview, Bombay, November, 1973.

 

99

all castes (Brahmin to untouchables) and all economic classes. This
is particularly true of the playwrights.

From personal observations and comparisons of I'raw'l and
"sophisticated" productions, it was evident that the performers in
the latter tradition were more professionally appealing and graceful
than their "raw" counterparts. This was particularly noticeable
among the female dancers and singers.

Loknat3a was brought to popularity among the urban popu-
lations through a small number of star performers. Patthe Bapurao
is often mentioned as a convenient twentieth century starting point,
but the place of Shahir Amar Shaikh in the development of loknat3a
is generally suppressed because he upheld a radical Communist position.
Shaikh's position in the development of loknatya is, however, sig-
nificant, as we shall see in Chapter V. His singing voice is
reputed to have been so powerful that it inspired many hundreds of
thousands of people, possibly millions, during his lifetime.

With Bapurao and Shaikh, the list of stars of loknatya
includes son3ad3as Nilu Phule, Dadu Indurikar (who represents a

cross between "raw" and "sophisticated“), Raja Mayekar, Dada Kondke,19

 

19Nilu Phule's performance in a Poona production of

lfirasdar's va3 You Are My Beloved Myna Bird impressed me as a bril-
liant illustration of an ideal son3ad3a. His offhand approach to
135 role invited strong audience participation through laughter and
umments from the floor. He has also made Vyankatesh Madgulkar's
19581woduction of the 333 Chaos All Around into a classic vehicle
forifis own personal talents as a comic. Dadu Indurikar is known
fixby throughout Maharashtra as a fine songad3a-type comic, appealing
hithe rural populace as well as the urban working classes. I
mfiched his vibrant performance of Donkey's Marriage at a crowded
mudoor theatre in the working class community of Chembur, a suburb
ofBombay. Raja Mayekar was Shahir Sable's best character actor
(”nil he left the troupe to form his own in 1968. Dada Kondke burst

 

 

 

100

and many others with large followings in the cities as well as the
towns and larger villages. At the base of this pyramid-type
structure of loknat3a artists are the 3333137playwrights, who support
the growing loknat3a tradition with literary underpinning, as will

be shown shortly.

But loknat3a has an important relationship to its "raw"
counterpart entertainment. In the view of Vinayak Bhave, loknat3a
can only continue to blossom in the modern urban manner for as long
as the "raw" tradition continues to provide the vital, if bawdy,
inspiration at village level. Should the traditional patterns of
Maharashtrian rural society break up for any reason, the ”sophisti-
cated" Tamasha would be cut from its ”life-giving roots," and become
something other than Tamasha in form, possibly reflecting more

completely an urban-centered, industrial-oriented society.20

The Contemporary Shahir-Playwrights

 

Early in the course of research for this study it became
evident that any attempt to learn something of contemporary themes
and issues in the Tamasha tradition would involve some acquaintance
with the literature of loknat3a, since the "raw” tradition, as
mentioned previously, is largely oral and oriented toward song and

dmwm and does not easily provide dramatic content materials for

—__k

onthe loknat3a scene in the mid-19605 with Vasant Sabnis' stunning
33_anil My Desire. I have seen this production twice, and watched
Kmmke'S'fihn Son3ad3a, and from the reaction of the middle-class
amfiences in attendance, I am able to understand the claim of

mfitics that Kondke is the King of the sophisticated son3adyas.

20Vinayak Bhave, private interview, Bombay, May 24, 1971.

 

 

 

 

101

study and criticism. Accordingly, a special study was made of the
leading living playwrights, their scripts, and production history
of their loknat3as. These authors, or 333313-p1aywrights, are:

P. L. Deshpande, D. N. Gavankar (who died in 1971), Vyankatesh
Madgulkar, D. M. Mirasdar, Shankar Patil, Shahir Sable, Vasant
Sabnis and Vijay Tendulkar.

From materials and interviews gained in this special study,
and from efforts to become familiar with scripts and actual pro-
ductions of works by the writers listed, I was able to justify
selection of Sable, Sabnis, and Tendulkar, for inclusion in this
section on the 333313fplaywrights. Their experiences will be
explored in relation to their personal artistic aims.

Sable's experience will help to explain the post-
Independence directions of the form itself; Sabnis' work will
offer an insight into the infusion of popular satire in Tamasha,
particularly the lively and improvisational quality needed to make
Tamasha serve as a medium of mass communication; and the experi-
nients by Tendulkar will provide a sense of aesthetic perspective
ffrom which to view Tamasha in relation to the serious or non-

Tamasha Marathi drama.

Shahir Sable
Born in 1924 in the rural Satara district, near Poona,
Sable was influenced at an early age by the Tamasha troupes which
txnired extensively in the area. As a teenager he composed and

performed his own songs, many of which became extremely popular.

 

102

During the freedom struggle in the 19405, Sable developed
his talents by writing anti-British and reformist 333333 ballads.

At the time, he was still at school, where he was strongly influenced
by the Maharashtrian social reformer Sane Guruji, from whom he
acquired insights into the problems of the working classes. Out

of this ferment came 3ovadas about foreign exploitation of the
Marathas.

After Independence, in 1947, the time for stirring nation-
alistic ballads seemed to have come to an end, and Sable was eager
to bring humor and entertainment into his performances. By this
time, he was a seasoned artist on the folk theatre trail. He began

to write scripts and he formed his own dholki-baari Tamasha troupe.

 

Sable turned to the full range of Tamasha music, song, and
drama because he believed it was what the people wanted and because
he knew the form intimately enough to manipulate it for his own
brand of social message. On tour with his troupe, his best assets
were his own singing voice and his own songs.21 This helped him
t;hrough the early years. But with time, he began to see the virtues,
{marticularly for city audiences, of adopting a flexible approach to
[Drooduction. From his Bombay and Poona experiences, where he had to
[D'Iay in indoor, air-conditioned theatres, he became aware that the
catitdoor Tamasha form was not always suitable in an urban setting.
[\5 airesult, he adopted some of the features of the indoor stage—-

ligflfifing, sets, makeup, and other technical conventions-~in order

 

21v. K. Joshi,_p_.31_t_., p. 178.

 

103

to compete on better terms with the established Marathi drama and
its three-act offerings. He also kept his productions clear of
Obscenities in dialogue, song, and gesture in order to attract the
more class-conscious urban theatre—goer. As a result of his inno-
vations, the form was sufficiently altered to earn the description

loknat3a (people's theatre) and later, muktanatya (free-form drama).

 

Muktanatya is Sable's term for his own reformation of the

 

Tamasha form. There were previous experiments, of course, including
those of Shahir Amar Shaikh and Annabhau Sathe in the 19405, after
which the term " oknat3a" came into vogue as a cover for the growing
sophistication of the Tamasha form. But Sable's approach was designed
less for propagandistic manipulation of Tamasha and more for widening
the possibilities to gain audience interest and involvement.

His muktanatya pieces date from the late 19505, and Yamarajyat

 

 

Ek Ratra ("One Night in Hell”),22 produced in 1959 and 1960, was one
of his more successful efforts which played 250 performances in
Bombay alone.

One Night in Hell ties up images of poverty and social

 

injustice as applied to the Sub-Continent (including India and
Pakistan). There are only two songs in the work, and no dances; it
is all 333 or folk drama. In the kingdom of Yama, the god of death,
vfim rules a region one may call Hell, a wandering soul representing
a.freedom-fighter, killed by the British before Independence, asks

'for the latest news of his country from two Bombay sidewalk dwellers

 

. 22For full-length English-language adaptation of One Night
in Hell, see Appendix E.

 

104

(Raja and Kisan) recently brought bodily to Hell by mistake. The
following sample of dialogue, using simple language; is full of
gentle ironies:

FIFTH SOUL

 

. . We've got our Independence. That's comforting. I
can rest in peace now. (Pause) . . . You've come from my
homeland. Please let me touch your feet.

RAJA
No-no. Not us. We're sinners.

FIFTH SOUL

 

That's all right. You've brought me the most wonderful
news. That's enough for me. (He touches their feet.)

RAJA

Then take me for Hindustan and you can take him . . . Kisan
. for Pakistan. Now, just look at the two of us.

FIFTH SOUL

 

Dreadful sight. You both look so weak.
RAJA
Yes. That's because I'm starving and he's hungry.

KISAN

 

Oh, how I wish I had been shot during the revolution. I
would have preferred death to slavery at the hands of the
selfish.

FIFTH SOUL

 

You can't mean that. If everybody believed this then who
would be left to serve the nation?

RAJA

Oh, there are many. So many. The big-shots have already
organized themselves to serve her. We applied, of course,
but didn't have enough money for a deposit. Our submissions
were torn up. That's how it is.

 

105

But the Fifth Soul has the last word in this brief encounter. His
parting line to Kisan and Raja is: "Those who are after money
alone cannot love their country."

The play is done in simple, rural language, for the broadest
possible appeal. Essentially, it is a 333 with swift give-and-take
dialogue found in most 3333; but unlike the traditional 333, it moves
the subject—matter away from the concerns of mythological kings and
court intrigues and into the dirty business of modern, poverty-
striken existence. Not since the Communist-inspired 3333 of the
19405 had writers during the 19505 (with the exception of P. L.

Deshpande, in his vag Wanted A Leader) turned to such social con-

 

cerns of the poor and the oppressed.
One of Sable's earliest efforts as a folk dramatist was

33pacha Ba3p ("Father's Father"), which dates back to 1956. It

 

shows the seeds of the ideas later incorporated in One Night in Hell.

 

Brahma, the universal creator, comes to earth and finds corruption
and exploitation everywhere, but because of hospitality shown him
lay a simple farmer, he decides to help the lot of all farmers and
'to return again to change the social system. The work had strong

éappeal to villagers.

In 1957, Sable came up with a new folk play, Nashib Phutka

 

Sandhum Ghy_a_ ("Your Fortune's In Your Hands"), which deals with two
unould-be fortune-tellers on a Bombay street, who soon give up their
prmww'profession for gainful employment. One of them, Raja, turns
to the audience at the close of the play and addresses them directly,

in a manner stylistically in keeping with the Tamasha approach:

 

 

 

 

106

I don't have the heart to leave this little corner stand.
But, my friend suggests we try something more productive.
So I'm going. But do me one favor, will you? Please look
after my shop. Oh, and keep this in mind. We may have
been phony fortune-tellers, but we are good people at
heart. I mean, we only joined the profession because we
were desperate.

To this, Raja's friend adds a moral:

Yes. You can look after his shop. But don't let it tempt
you. Your fortune is in your own hands. There is so much
power in your hands that you could move the stars in
Heaven if you had to. You are the creators of your own
destiny. So, don't show your palms to fortune-tellers.

With Aburaoche Lageen ("Aburao's Marriage”) in 1963, Sable

 

contrasted the quality of life of the city dweller and the villager.
There are moral overtones, and a lament for dying traditional values,
but the treatment is subtle and basically entertaining, and there
are songs and dances included to keep the audience interested.

In an experimental departure from Tamasha tradition,

Aburao's Marriage begins not with the traditional gan-gaulan but

 

with a half hour of lively and popular lavanis and film songs.
Sable's idea was to capture the full attention of the audience
51nd to create a warm and secular relationship between performers
airm spectators. There was to be no easy and distracting play of
k<r~ishna and the milkmaids. The song-and-dance set is followed by
£1r1 intermission. The main dramatic piece, or 333, opens the second
half of the show.
But Aburao's Marriage is not yet the end of the show.
lWoere is a second intermission which is followed by the "third act”
called a "farcial 33333,” It effectively replaces the 33n-33ulan

segment even if it comes at the end of the entertainment. Here,

 

107

Krishna and the gaulans romp about a little, but it becomes quickly
apparent that the humor has a biting edge. Krishna is now an unlikely
revolutionary figure who tries to organize the gaulans into unions.
The message to the audience says simply that the people should unite
their efforts in order to set India free from economic domination by
outside exploiters. The message is mixed with singing and dancing,

as I observed on two occasions--at a village production and at a
production in Bombay.

In the same year, he wrote Gyanbacha Mekh (“Gyanba's Satire"),

 

which looks at the simple life of a farmer who is gullible enough to
believe that a schoolmaster can educate his donkey, Gyanba, and turn
the animal into an educated human being. The moment of social truth
comes at the close, when the donkey is brought back to the farmer,
who beats the animal nearly to death out of frustration at not having
succeeded in the plan. The donkey finally cries out:

Don't beat me! I'm your Gyanba. Remember a man can

become a donkey but a donkey can never become a man.

You're uneducated and so you were blind to truth and you

sent me to the master to be educated. Well, he locked me

up for six months, but I always remained a donkey.
Saying this the animal dies, and in the deepened dramatic moment Sable
sends home his message with forcefulness, feeling, and sympathy: The
schoolmaster comes to the realization that the whole thing was his
fault from the start, and he promises to devote all his energy to

educate the village illiterates, beginning with the farmer.

Sable's most controversial work was Andhala Daltai, ("Blind

 

Man Grinds"). It was first produced in August of 1966 and it closed

after 100 performances in 1967, in Bombay.

 

108

The plot of Blind Man Grinds follows an ordinary and quite
undramatic series of events and encounters involving a Marathi
village 33311_who comes to Bombay and who is appalled by the extent
to which Marathis are suffering from economic domination at the hands
of migrants from other regions--notably from Gujarat and Madras.

But the theme also expressed the general aims of the newly-

formed Shiva Sena political party. Sable became interested in the

 

party when it was first shaping its “Maharashtra-—first'l policy. This

was the early period of the Shiva Sena, before it moved to the

 

extreme right of the political spectrum in Maharashtra.
Sable's interest was born of his desire to counteract

efforts by the Communists to gain power in the State. Shiva Sena

 

appeared as a valid alternative force on the State level, and Sable
had been impressed by the manner in which the party had exposed the
Moral Rearmament movement's inroads in India as an unwanted alien
answer to the nation's problems.

Blind Man Grinds was a boost to the Shiva Sena, which

 

 

gained much publicity and popularity. The party warmly supported
and encouraged Sable's troupe in turn. Shortly afterward, however,
the party made its first election bid at the polls on an extremist
pflatform which repelled Sable. The 333313 withdrew his play and his
support.

Today, he is still unaligned to any political party, but
lie remains committed to many of the social and political reforms
‘which may be found in the policies of any number of existing left-

of-centre political groups-

 

 

 

109

In recent years, Sable has turned to other writers to
build upon his innovations, and he has commissioned authors to carry
out his vision. For a start he collaborated with playwright Vijay

Tendulkar in a moderately successful production of Footpayaricha

 

§33333_("Emperor of the Footpath"), which ran for just sixty per-
formances. Tendulkar's experience in the venture is described later
in this chapter. The basic idea for the play-~the confusion of
reality and dream among the sidewalk dwellers of Bombay--was Sable's.

As late as 1971, Sable opened a brand new Tamasha pro-
duction in collaboration with Sai Pranjpye, a writer who is originally
from Maharashtra but who now makes her home in New Delhi. Critical
reaction, however, was not very enthusiastic, as an informant reported
in recent correspondence.

The 333313 also has plans for the future. He has circu—
lated a proposal to establish a permanent salaried mobile theatre
troupe, complete with truck, folding stage, light and sound equipment.
Assured production tours of twenty-five shows per month would
(quickly make the project self-sufficient.

Like all theatre producers, the 333313 has to submit his
s;cripts to the Stage Performances Scrutiny Board. It is a cumbersome
p>rocess, but Sable agrees that some restrictions are necessary for
‘tlwe sake of decency. Open expression of obscenity, personal or
rwaligious bigotry, he told me, can only serve to inflame passions
arud create rifts among people. His own scripts consciously keep

clear'of direct reference to any social, political, or religious

 

~,—.. ’.-__

 

 

 

 

110

dogmas; but like a true artist, he will hint, suggest, symbolize and
otherwise communicate his point of view to audiences.

In his thirty years as an entertainer, Sable has covered
all the cities and towns and the leading villages of Maharashtra.
Altogether, he has produced nine new Tamashas, six of which he wrote
himself. Each production, containing new and old elements, normally
tours for a year or more through different regions of the State.

Most of Sable's male artists, as I learned at first hand,
hold full-time jobs in railway shops, and all were dedicated to the
causes of unionism and social equality.

His troupe is unique among the Tamasha communities in that
it is the only active group remaining independent of institutional
or governmental support which devotes all its production efforts
to social and cultural improvement of people.23 Before their deaths
in the late 19605, Annabhau Sathe and Shahir Amar Shaikh shared the
same distinction with Sable's troupe.

Audiences at performances by Sable's troupe vary in size
from 1,000 to as many as 20,000 a night. I attended one performance

at a Bombay dock, and I estimated the attendance at 5,000, mostly

dock workers and their families. Because the artists don't work full-

time for Sable, all out-of-Bombay touring arrangements are restricted
to weekend engagements and, occasionally, extended two-week tours

during religious festivals.

 

23Rajabhao Thitey, private interview, Bombay, December 29,

7970.

——-—' ”fl
m~ Wr“

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

111

In an average year, Sable's troupe will run sixty to
seventy performances of one production in closed auditoriums in the
cities. In addition he will undertake forty to fifty open-air
performances a year in villages and at outdoor mass labor rallies
in the cities.24 In the villages, performance arrangements and
salaries are handled by village councils, as I observed personally
during Sable's village production at Dhebewadi in December, 1970.

As for contractual arrangements, each female artist in
the troupe is paid approximately 100 ($13.33) to 150 333333 ($20)
for a show, while male artists receive twenty ($2.66) to fifty
3333333 ($6.66) per show, depending upon experience. The premium
for female artists is high because they serve to attract audiences.

The troupe generally travels by public transport--train
and bus. When touring villages for open-air performances, the only
packing requirements are those for custumes and musical instruments.

Sable's troupe averages sixteen artists, including three
females--a singer, a dancer, and an actress. On tour, this number
might be reduced to a dozen.

The Shahir's purpose, after thirty years of professional
work as a folk entertainer, may have lost some of its youthful zeal,
but it remains his guiding principle: ”to educate the masses, to
raise the level of the social and political consciousness of our

People so that we can build a better society."25

 

24These figures were verified by Vinayak Bhave, Rajabhau
Thitey, and officials of the Maharashtra Government Stage Performances
.&:rutiny Board.

ZSShahir Sable, private interview, Bombay, November, 1970.

s I .. _

 

112

Vasant Sabnis
Vasant Sabnis is assistant director of publicity for the
Maharashtra Government, where he edits a fortnightly publication on
the arts. When I first interviewed him in November, 1970, he was
forty-seven years of age. His interest in Tamasha, he told me, dates
from his childhood:

I came from Sangli district where there were many Tamasha
performances. My father was very fond of Tamasha. He used to
buy the records of lavani songs as soon as they were issued,
although they were always kept from me. Secretly, of course,

I managed to listen to them and they fascinated me. I think

this is how I first became interested in Tamasha. As I grew
older I attended performances as often as I could.

 

For writing purposes, I found that the vag_form is very
flexible. Maybe it's because it is such a relaxed form of
farce, giving much scope to the writer as well as the actor.
In serious drama, both writer and actor are locked into a
restricted form. You can't go outside it.26

Sabnis has written more than six plays in Tamasha folk-
style, two of which have been produced. A third play, You Are My
Landlord, was in rehearsal when I left India in l971.

The first production was Khan Khanpur ("King of Khan
Khanpur”). It covered the traditional elements from gan-gulan
and farce, to the main vgg_in just over three hours. The social
concern of the script was its pro-prohibition slant; however, this
"message” was reserved for the closing ten minutes. Khan Khanpur
was produced in Bombay in l960 and it ran for 100 performances on

outdoor stages in the city's parks. Sabnis' own verdict on this

first venture: "popular, but not a commercial success."

 

26Vasant Sabnis, private interview, Bombay, November, 1970.

 

 

 

 

 

113

If Khan Khanpur proved to be a questionable success, his

 

Vichya Maji Puri Kara (”Fulfil My Desire"), which opened in 1965,
was a popular success. It was still running after nearly 1,000 per-

27 The author himself

formances when I left India in July, 1971.
plays a brief role in performances at Bombay and Poona. (This
segment is replaced by another when the production tours without
Sabnis.)

Fulfil My Desire established Vasant Sabnis as a writer of

 

note. It also made a star of the songadya-style character actor,
Dada Kondke, who produced the work.

The work may be characterized as social satire. It is not
direct propaganda. Its relevance is kept timely and fresh by the
clever wit of Kondke who constantly changes references and events
in the script.

The story-line of Fulfil My Desire is very thin, centering

 

upon the troubles at the court of a mythical king. The problems
are those of corruption, petty thievery, and nepotism. Conceived
within the loose framework of the vag, there is much room for
improvised humour and wit as well as for displays of singing and
dancing.

A sense of its satire may be gathered from the opening
lines of the gag;

KING

 

What is the condition of our Kingdom today?

 

27An informant, returned from Maharashtra in September,
'1973, noted that the run was still continuing.

 

 

 

 

114

9M1
Everything is fine. No need to worry.
k§N§_
Have there been any thefts lately?
99532.
No thefts, only thieves stealing.
.KING
Any murders?
GDA3D_
Generally no, but . . .
EQN§_

What about the percentage of murders?

w
Two-point-five.

_KING
What?

GUARD

 

This is government language so that the people shouldn't
understand.

'Reaction to this sort of satire is very warm and I have seen
audiences convulsed in laughter throughout most of the work on two
occasions. I was told that Kondke keeps updating the dialogue as
the troupe tours. Coming to a town or village, for example, he may
seek out a local official to learn about social and political issues,
some of which will be referred to in the production the same evening.
lfhe effect is often one of surprise and it can provoke hearty

1 aughter and applause.

' ‘-

"r‘ m

a..—

 

 

 

 

115

An instance of Kondke's technique may be given. The script
calls for the recruitment of a Chief Minister whose only qualification
is that he is brother-in-law to the Minister. The new Chief Minister
is a simple man, a cow-herd, whose orders sound like those only a
cow-herd might make. One night, Kondke learned that a retired police-
man would be in the audience. At a lively moment in the production,
Kondke stopped the performance, turned to the giggling spectators,
then looked back at the actor playing the new Chief Minister and
said: "Don't worry about them [the audience]. Go on with the act.
There's probably some poor retired policemen out there in the
audience." The audience reacted immediately with laughter and applause,
as everyone turned to look at the retired policeman in their midst.28

On another occasion, Kondke learned of the presence of an
ex-finance minister of the Maharashtrian Government. ‘This information
was used in a moment of improvised dialogue right at the beginning of
the vag_when the King asked the guard about the state of the Kingdom.
Kondke, playing the guard, replied everything was fine except in
matter, of finance, and he continued: "Since the departure of our
former finance minister, the economy is crumbling. Otherwise, every-
thing else is fine." Laughter, whistling, and long appaluse were
reported to have followed the remark.29

Sabnis gives credit to Kondke for keeping Fulfil My Desire

alive for so many years. Kondke has become independently wealthy as

 

28Vasant Sabnis, 10c. 91;,

2gIdem.

.fl" ~.

 

 

116

a direct result of the production. He is now a film producer.
(Interestingly, he was originally a salesman who acted with a small
Tamasha troupe on a part-time basis. It was this troupe which pro-

duced Sabnis' first Tamasha-type play, Khan Khanpur. Kondke later

 

left the troupe and created his own to produce Fulfil MygDesire.

 

He has become known throughout the State as a sharp political
observer and an activist. During previous elections he participated
in politically-sponsored entertainments, a fact which explains his
ability to comment so forcefully upon the complex nature of the
existing political power structure.30
Sabnis has covered a number of social themes in Fulfil My
“Desire, and I should like to trace some of them by quoting from the
script. On audience involvement, Sabnis makes adroit use of the
prologue to cover dialogue between himself and Kondke. Here, in a
display of wit, centered on the place of Tamasha in contemporary
society, Sabnis and his star performer poke fun at each other,

bringing the audience directly into their confidence:

PLAYWRIGHT (SABNIS)

 

(To KONDKE) Didn't you want a story for loknatya--for
your modern Tamasha?

SHAHIR KONDKE3'

 

Not just any story, but a powerful one.

3OVinayak Bhave, private interview, Bombay, November 24, 1970.

3lKondke has adopted the title of Shahir in the honorific
sense which is sometimes used for a troupe's leader.

 

"g—v‘ _
-

 

 

 

117

PLAYWRIGHT
I hayg_a powerful story.
SHAHIR KONDKE
What is it about?
PLAYWRIGHT

 

Well . . . it's all about this King, you see.

SHAHIR KONDKE
Ah! Just a minute. I forgot something. What's in it
for me? You know, I've heard a lot about you educated
people. They talk a lot but they never pay up.

PLAYWRIGHT

 

What's money? The people out there (points to audience)
are the ones who have to be paid.

SHAHIR KONDKE

 

Those people?

PLAYWRIGHT

 

Sure. ~They've spent some of their precious time and money
just to see you, and if you do a good dramatic piece, then
you'll gain their applause. You do that and then I'll pay
you. I'll give you my turban.

SHAHIR

All right. These people are mine and I am theirs. I've

known them for a long time. (To PLAYWRIGHT) Now, you say

you're ready to part with your turban? You want to hear

them applaud? Well, that's easy. I'll just ask them.

. . . (Moves towards audience, but PLAYWRIGHT pulls him

back.)
PLAYWRIGHT

 

Wait a minute! You think applause comes from begging for

it? That's not the way to gain fame and applause. You've
got to earn it by your art. Do a good piece of drama and

you'll get your applause. Then you can have my turban.

‘__—-‘_’ \-

‘4 v H-

 

 

118

SHAHIR

Well . . . if it's my duty to perform, then it's up to them
to applaud.

PLAYWRIGHT

 

You do your work properly and they'll do theirs.
w

But what if they forget?
PLAYWRIGHT

 

These are Maharashtrians. They'll forget everything else,
but not applause.

SHAHIR

Whatever you say. But why not do it my way? First you
give me ybur turban. I keep it if they applaud. If not,
you can have it back.

PLAYWRIGHT

 

No deal. You'll have to win it by your art.

Nepotism is frequently attacked in the play. An example is
seen in the vag_section of the script, after the King has been
informed by his guard of the death of his Chief Minister. To assuage
his grief, the King goes to his harem. The guard and one of his
ministers are on stage. The guard is curious about who will be
appointed new Chief Minister:

MINISTER

You just leave that to me.
9.92332

But according to seniority, it should be the Inspector.
MINISTER

That's none of your affairs. (To himself) Yes. My
wife's brother. My wife's been pestering me for so long

119

to find a job for him. Yes. Until now, there were no
vacancies. The time is ripe. With him as Chief Minister,
and myself as Minister, we can just about do as we please.
Yes. . . .

GUARD

(Pretending not to have heard these thoughts) I mean, I
was just curious to know.

MINISTER
My brother-in-law!

GUARD

 

Your brother-in—law! But he's a cow-herd! What does he
know about the affairs of state? (Turns to audience) I
guess that's how it is today. Seniority counts for nothing.
Only influence works. (He exits to inform the inspector.)
Another social theme is the collective power of the people.
Thefts have been plaguing the Court and the King finally becomes
aware of the extent of the problem when he finds his own bed has
been stolen. He is speaking to his Inspector:
KING
Are you sure it's the Chief Minister who is guilty?
INSPECTOR

Positive!

KING

 

What proof have you?
INSPECTOR

My eyes are proof enough.
KING

What if you're wrong?
INSPECTOR

Then, my sword and your head. [Note: The INSPECTOR has
no sword; the KING does.]

120

KING
(Surprised) Do you know what you're saying?
INSPECTOR

What I mean is I have no sword and so there's no balance
in my speech.

KING
(Gives sword to INSPECTOR.) Here. Now speak properly.
(Suddenly INSPECTOR brandishes
the sword in the threatening
manner.)
KING
What's this! (Frightened)
INSPECTOR
(Holding the sword to KING's body) This is what happens
when power is put in the hands of the people. This is a
warning to you. Take care!
KING
(More relaxed) Fine! Fine! This is good advice.

INSPECTOR

And so, what I really meant to say . . . your sword and
my_head.

In the segment quoted above, there are political overtones
which, I am told, are not lost upon audiences.

To mid-1973, nearly a million people had seen Fulfil My
Desire, and it is perhaps valid to speak of a production of this
type as a vehicle of mass communication--a vehicle in which social
and political references may serve as a means for sharpening the

spectator's awareness of his own political environment.

121

Sabnis believes there would have been little mass appeal
to the production had he tried to work within the framework of serious
drama. He told me he knew enough about the folk-theatre tradition
to realize that only Tamasha could serve to reach the masses:
"Because the form accepts a less sophisticated kind of dialogue
and language, it is more easily understood, more accessible to the
common man.”

However, according to the "raw” Tamasha artists I inter-
viewed, Fulfil My Desire is a sophisticated city loknatya which is

beyond the level of understanding of peasants in the small villages.32

Vijay Tendulkar

Vijay Tendulkar is one of the more successful playwrights
of the modern Marathi stage. His probing dramas, some purely experi-
mental, have achieved wide critical acclaim. At forty-two years of
age (in 1971), he had written more than fourteen plays, including
several in Tamasha style.

Tendulkar turned to Tamasha in the early 1960s to gain
technical liberty and freedom of expression in his writing. His
concern at the time was to communicate more effectively with
broader-based audiences, and Tamasha seemed to offer more elasticity
than the more formal Marathi stage.

His first experiment using the Tamasha form was Sari Ga

Sari (”Oh, Lovely Ornament”), which was produced in 1964 by the

—_

32Private interviews with Lata Kolhapurkar, Jayashree
Kolhapurkar, and Radu Mali, Bombay, The New Hanuman Theatre,
November 24, 1970.

122

amateur experimental arm of the Mumbai Marathi Sahitya Sangha, or

 

Bombay Marathi Literary Society. It was conceived in rural col-
loquial language patterns, but it touched on such social themes as
middle-class strife in the large urban setting of Bombay.

The play begins with a traditional gan_and gaulan. Hero
of the gaulan_segment is Mukunda, one of Krishna's many names.
Mukunda and his friend Pendya encounter milkmaids, as might be
expected, on their way to Mathura to sell their milk products. But
from the start, Tendulkar exploits the situation to comment on the
contemporary scene as may be seen in this innovative description
by Pendya:

Ours is a beggar-land.

We run this land of beggars.

We are ministers of the illegal distillers.

We have many bad village leaders. . . .

The gaulan_segment features other innovations such as
sending the gaulans to the laundry and forcing them to eat in
restaurants.

Tendulkar proceeded to write the gaulan_characters into
the vag_part of his script and, in the process, he turned Pendya
into a Western-style existentialist character. Mukunda, for his part,
now becomes a sedate and satisfied member of the urban bourgeoisie.

The plot of the vag_is introduced by Pendya, in traditional
Egggyyg song-form. It deals with the growing madness of Mukunda's
father and the obligation to sell an expensive ornament belonging to

Mukunda's wife, Manda, in order to help pay for the father's hospi-

talization. In a series of intrigues, proceeds from the initial

123

sale change hands several times, soiling those who come into contact
with the money.

The play gave Tendulkar the opportunity to test the tech-
nique of breaking down a built—up sense of stage realism in order to
involve audiences directly. As we have shown in Chapter I, Tamasha
provides an acceptable convention for such experimentation. Tendulkar
was thus able to have his characters talk about getting ready to
play a drama about a mad schoolmaster, and Pendya is also able to
speak directly to the audience, telling spectators that the bare
stage is now a house, that the place is Bombay, and that the charac-
ters are now in a certain room where the action is about to take
place. The characters not only introduced their surroundings, they
also introduced each other. Some characters were made to protest
that they didn't like the roles cast for them; another calmed the
protestors: "Don't take it so seriously. It's just a play."

According to Miss Bharati Marathe, who acted and danced
in the original production, the satirical intent appeared overly
heavy for the essential lightness of the Tamasha form, and the play
was consequently not a popular success. Being an amateur effort,
moreover, the production had not been sufficiently funded to permit
a long run in large theatres and to support such a run with the
required publicity and advertising.

It also seemed to Miss Marathe that the audience was not
yet ready for the satirical view of Krishna who, to this day,

requires sensual or erotic treatment.33

 

33Bharate Marathe, private interview, Poona, February, 1971.

124

For Tendulkar, the experiment with Sari Ga Sari was an

 

important stage in his development as a playwright. The effort to
make the Tamasha form suit his aim of personal expression created
many interesting problems for both author and performers. The
script underwent many changes during rehearsal, in keeping with the
desire to develop a feeling of spontaneity on stage. In Tendulkar's
view, the sense of spontaneity wasn't there, even at production time,
because the cast had been selected from among actors of the modern
Marathi urban stage who lacked the informality and the improvisational
talents of regular Tamasha folk artists:
What resulted was a naturalistic three-dimensional approach
to characters when we should have succeeded in capturing a
flatter, two-dimensional sense. Technically, a good Tamasha

requires over-acting, like a caricature when compared with a

photograph. We were limited to a sophisticated level of acting.34

Tendulkar's second experiment with Tamasha was a script

commissioned by Shahir Sable, Footpairicha Samrat, (”Emperor of the

 

Footpath"), and produced by Sable's troupe with limited success in
1969. The plot deals with the miseries of the sidewalk dwellers of
Bombay and the bitter humor drawn from their dreams of travelling to
the moon. The Bombay run closed after sixty performances.

The idea for the work was Sable's and Tendulkar was asked
to write the scenario and critical points of dialogue. The material
was then supposed to serve as a base for improvisation and development
of a more fully rounded and spontaneous production. This development,

however, was minimal since the actors ended up by relying exclusively

on the script.

 

34Tendulkar, private interview, December, 1970-

125

While Tendulkar had high praise for Sable's talents as a
singer and artist, he said the other members of the troupe were not
up to the standards he had expected. The main character actor, Raja
Mayekar, had recently quit the troupe and a realignment of talent
had been taking p1ace-—all of which affected the production.

The experience served to harden Tendulkar's feelings about
the suitability of Tamasha as an outlet for his own creative expres-
sion:

I came to the conclusion that in Tamasha the script is

really only a pretext, and that the whole entertainment depends
more on the actors than on the writer.35

Having read two of his non—Tamasha scripts in English

translation (mimeographed)--The Vultures, and Encounter in Umbugland--

 

I find it easier to understand Tendulkar's early concern about
suitability of existing forms for personal expression. His themes,
which touch the roots of social misery and political injustice, are
too strong and certainly much too deep for any superficial treatment
bordering on entertainment.

But for all his disenchantment, the playwright made a
third attempt at utilizing Tamasha. The result was Ashi Pakhare
_Ygti ("Birds Fly Here“), which was originally produced in 1970 and
which was still running at Bombay and Poona theatres in mid-1971.
In this play Tendulkar borrowed some of the stage conventions of
Tamasha and ignored the form. The plot, revolving around a simple
love story, becomes a vehicle permitting more experimentation with

direct communication between performers and spectators. Having

 

35Idem.

 

126

previously failed to invite spontaneous improvisation in his Tamashas,
Tendulkar now overcomes the difficulty by scripting an improvisational
quality. For this purpose, he borrowed the character of the songadya
and clothed him as a main character linking plot elements, and
creating a line of communication between the actors and the audience
with his witty asides. The effect, when I saw a production in Poona,
reminded me of the narrator used by Thornton Wilder in his play,

Our Town.

After three encounters with Tamasha, Tendulkar has con-
cluded that he can successfully blend some of the techniques and
conventions of the form with his own brand of serious drama. Further
experimentation would be limited, he believes: "Tamasha is essen-
tially an entertainment medium and it can be used for direct and not
very subtle propaganda because of its broad, cartoon-like approach
to language, wit, and acting styles."

For the serious Marathi dramatist, Tamasha would therefore
seem to offer only technical freedom. Tendulkar, for one, found the

experience refreshing:

The closed stage has been limited in recent years to box-
sets and three-act formal dramas. This was strangling Marathi
theatre. We had t3 return to our indigenous folk form, Tamasha,
to break the hold. 6

For an artist who is not really interested in propaganda
but in "artistic exploitation of my ideas,” breaking the hold is

sufficient for the moment. Tendulkar has most recently turned, for

 

36Idem.

127

new formal inspiration, to the Bhavai folk theatre of Gujarat which,

in his view, combines entertainment value with dramatic intensity.

Critical Notes

 

An indication that Tamasha is being increasingly accepted
on the urban middle class theatre scene is the readiness of newspapers
to review city productions of the loknatyas. Reviews now appear
regularly alongside critiques of serious drama, music, and other
performing arts events.

Several illustrations will demonstrate the awareness by
critics of the theatrical values of the basic Tamasha form and
their relevance for the wider Maharashtrian community. The examples

are taken from the Bombay editions of The Indian Express and the

 

Times of India, selected during the periods May IZ'MaY 22’ 197'-

 

In a review of Vinayak Patil's Tamasha-style play, Chakkarrao

 

Maze Nav ("My Name is Chakkarrao"), the drama critic of The Times of

 

India (May 12, 1971), reveals a keen and incisive understanding of
the problems involved in adapting the rural “raw” form to urban
loknatya. Noting the author has dispensed with the traditional gag
and gaulan, the reviewer writes:

For some time now, the repartee between the milkmaids on
the one hand and Lord Krishna and his accomplices on the other,
which makes up a gaulan, has been falling flat owing to a
distinct lack of barbed wit and satirical innovation. From
this point of view, the above course (dispensing with the gaulan)
seemed a safe way out, but it considerably detracted from the
wholesomeness and satirical impact of the play. . . .

The critic goes on to complain that much of the first half

was wasted in preliminaries and that ”it took a long time for the

128

play to come to the point." The review continues its critical attack
which presumes a sensitive appreciation of the basic Tamasha tradition:

A court danseuse provides terpsichorean entertainment at
the slightest pretext. This adds to the roster of non-hereditary
Tamasha danseuses lively young Shashikala Rao who knows all the
tantalizing tricks of the trade. Bal Dhamankar has tuned the
songs attractively but they cry for a trained playback voice.

Patil himself as the main farceur is quite smart but
fails to relieve the longwindedness of the play. The king,
played by Bhai Anand, added to the fun by adopting a rustic
lingo ill-suited to his royal status.

A few days later, both English-language dailies published

reviews of the Bombay revival of Vyankatesh Madgulkar's Pati Gele Ga

 

Kathewadi ("My Husband's Gone to Kathewadi”).

An appreciative view appeared in The Times of May 17,
touching upon the plot, the excellence of the performing talent, and
the predominant sentiments (rasas) that alternated "between the
lyrically romantic and the farcically comical.“ The review per-
ceptively made mention of the use of music based on classical ragas;

(The) tunes . . . , are catchy and, indeed, suggest that

with adequate innovation, this musical version can be further
developed into a light opera.

The following day (May 18), the Express ran its own critique,
which was little more than a perfunctory check-list of plot elements
and actors. The most critical comment was a statement that the piece
was "very fine entertainment.” It was evident the reviewer was
looking at the production from the perspective of the urban Marathi
stage.

In its editions that same day (May 18), the Iimg§_ran a

review of a new Tamasha which opened in Bombay. The work was

129

Sharad Niphadkar's Kasa Chorun Baghtoy Mela (”Look How the Scoundrel's
Looking at Me”).
The review opened with a general statement which indicated
the critic's positive stand on Tamasha:
The Tamasha is fast becoming a more and more versatile
vehicle of satrical comedy in the Marathi Theatre. Its

stylistic range was once again demonstrated by Sharad
Niphadkar's Kasa Chorun Baghtoy_Mela . . . .

 

It is worth quoting further from this review because it
deals with innovations in the utilization of the Tamasha for urban
audiences:

The innovations were evident in the gaulan which followed
the invocatory song. While the usual altercation between
Krishna and the milkmaids wending their way to the Mathura
bazaar (and chaperoned by an 'auntie' customarily played by a
male farceur) was about to warm up, an alleged member of the
audience rushed to the stage loudly complaining about the way
the mythological Lord was being ridiculed.

While answering these objections, the major farceur,
Madhu Kadu, also defended the Tamasha genre against the charge
of obscenity.

The youthful escapades of Krishna themselves are open
to an interpretation which borders on some good-humored
ribaldry.

The review pays solicitous attention to all the new ideas
and nuances observed in the performance: I'A fine piece of mimicry
was offered by Ravindra Vasaidar . . . , Kamal Kumari danced
expertly to the lavanis. . . .”

The same critic attended another loknatya performance a
few days later (May 22, 1971) and reported back cheerfully:

There are many distinguishing features about Kala Kunj's
loknatya . . . Mazya Jaalyaat Ghaylaay masa [“I Hooked Him”].

 

130

First, it is penned by Sulochana Nalavade, its leading
danseuse, and her wit and sense of slapstick are both developed
as her stage expertise.

Sulochana's play was preceded not only by the invocation
and the gaulan but also the batavani (a satirical skit) in
C which her own ingratiatingly spicy delivery of the dialogue
I ~caught one's attention immediately. Most Tamasha danseuses,
on the other hand, are content with some dazzling pirouetting
and ostensibly glamorous postures.

_. The critic goes on to review the acting talents in terms

of regular dramatic fare and he concludes with enthusiastic praise

 

for the production.
These reviews indicate that loknatya Tamashas are not rare
events in the major urban centres and that they are being appreciated

mostly on their own terms by the newspapers.37

 

The Challenge of Film and Television

 

Film has borrowed much from the appealing elements in

Tamasha. The lavani song-and-dance form has been used for both

 

Marathi and Hindi feature films, and other musical and dramatic
elements have also found their way to the screen in transposed manner.
The process appears to have upset many folk theatre purists who

believe the trend represents the slow degradation and destruction

of the live tradition.

 

371 was told by an informant that the Marathi papers are
also taking solicitous interest in the loknatyas. In fact, the
coverage is broader and deals with both ”raw” and ”sophisticated"
Tamashas. There is, moreover, a regular weekly column in the Bombay
daily Sanja Maratha which is written by an anonymous journalist who
writes under the pseudonym Sittivala, or Whistler.

 

 

131

Whatever the arguments surrounding the challenge posed by
film, the fact is that the spirit of Tamasha is being extended through
the medium of film to broader segments of the public. The first film

made on a Tamasha theme was Jai Malhar (”Victory to the God Malhar”).

 

When it was produced late in the 19505 it became a sensational box-
office attraction in cinemas. The success of this venture set a
trend which still continues to this day. Another early Tamasha-
based film was Ram Joshi, a biographical account of the life of the
famed shahir_who repudiated his Brahmin heritage to become a Tamasha
artist.

In 1967, Sangte Aika ("Listen, I'll Tell You”), ran for

 

more than sixty-five consecutive weeks in Poona. It depicted a
corrupt landlord who seduces a Tamasha artist. The woman is avenged
by the child of their union. More recent film efforts using Tamasha
themes and structural elements have been equally successful. Among

the newer Marathi films (to 1971), were Mala Tumchi Mhana ("Call Me

 

Yours"); Kela Ishara data data (“Beckoned While Going"), and Dada

 

Kondke's zany production, Songadya.

Critics claim that the sophisticated artists and the film
industry are emasculating the native Tamasha form to exploit it,
destroying it in the process; but others directly involved in efforts
to revive Tamasha believe the opposing viewpoint: that the onus has
now been placed upon the traditional artist to perfect his art and
that the folk art form is still a vital one because it is so deeply
rooted in the Maharashtrian culture. The "exploitation" and borrowing

by the film industry may in fact indicate'something of the inherent

132

strength of Tamasha as a continuing source of stylistic and thematic
inspiration.38
Since 1971, television has come to Maharashtra, and it is
expected that the same process (tapping the sources of Maharashtrian
folk entertainment), will continue in the coming years. But it is
only in the long-term view--accepting the eventual proliferation
and public saturation of both film and television outlets--that a
serious challenge could be made to the continued functioning of the
live Tamasha tradition. ”The threat can be foreseen," believes

Vinayak Bhave, ”and the proper counter-measures can be taken by

cultural authorities to protect the form."

38Vinayak Bhave, private interview, Bombay, November 14,
1970.

CHAPTER IV

THE POLITICS OF TAMASHA'

The purpose of this chapter is to describe efforts by the
Government of Maharashtra and by concerned non-governmental groups
and private individuals to regulate and influence Tamasha in the
period following the attainment of independence in India. The con-
flicts and rivalries produced by these efforts will also be examined

for their underlying political significance.

The 1947 Ban

 

Shortly after the establishment of Indian Independence in
1947, Morarji Desai, Home Minister for Bombay State,2 declared a
Government ban upon Tamasha performances. The official reason given
was to rid the region of the ”filth“ of Tamasha; but in reality, the
ban had two aims: to destroy Communist access to the people's mass
medium, and to eliminate the “raw“ and vulgar elements in newly
independent India now imbued with puritan zeal and a new sense of

national identity.3 Since the Communists in 1947 still posed a

 

1The title is used in the double sense: the external politi-
cal manipulation of Tamasha; and the internal ”politiking” among
Tamasha Association members.

2Bombay State was the former political subdivision which
incorporated Maharashtra, Gujarat, and Mysore. See historical note
on Maharashtra in Appendix J of this study.

3Vinayak Bhave, private interview, Bombay, December 18, 1970;
and Durga Bhagvat, private interview, January, 1971.

133

134

threat to the power structure, Morarji may have simply tried to
eliminate one of the sources of the threat.

The ban was an apparent blessing for Tamasha, and the lowest
point in the fortunes of the folk form marked the beginning of regener-
ated Maharashtrian awareness of the value of its own indigenous medium
of expression. In effect, the ban served as a rallying cry for a
small group of middle-class intellectuals (some of them fresh from
recent experiences with the Anti-British movement), who stood up for
Tamasha in the face of the Government's action. One of the leaders
of this Group was Marathi journalist Rajabhau Thitey, of Poona. The
private citizens' campaign made some partial successes after vigorous
representations to the Government, and the ban was lifted, subject to
certain conditions: censorship of scripts, payment of a production

tax, and issuance of permits for performances.4

Marathi Tamasha Parishad (Association)

 

The campaign didn't end there. Thitey and his group con-
tinued to work for the creation of a state-wide organization which
would recognize and promote the art of Tamasha and support its
practitioners. Such an organization would be capable of lobbying
for better conditions from the institutions of society and from the
Government itself. Thitey explained to me precisely what he wanted
at the time:

My aim was to rekindle the flame of Tamasha by means of
annual conferences. The decline in standards had gone so far

 

4Durga Bhagvat, log, git,

135

that there was a need to raise levels everywhere and even to
offer demonstration and training of methods and techniques of
performance to many of the practicing performers.
In 1955, such an organization was established with the help
of Thitey, sociologist-anthropologist Durga Bhagvat, journalist
Vinayak Bhave, politician Balasaheb Gore, Tamasha patron Ahmed Shet

Tambe, and others. The organization they helped to create was called

Maharashtra Tamasha Parishad (Association).

 

Almost before it became operational, a political power-
struggle ensued for control of the Parishad. In 1956, a splinter
group of the Bombay faction tried to destroy the original association
and take over its membership. The new group was called Mumbaj_

Tamasha Parishad and it was the brainchild of Balasaheb Desai,

 

ostensibly on behalf of the Congress Party, for political gain.6

The attempted split occurred because of political opposition
to the seating of Shahir Amar Shaikh on the governing committee of
the Parishad. The ground for opposition was that Shaikh was a Com—
munist.

The Bombay splinter group couldn't break the Parishad, how-
ever, and it soon became disoriented. In 1959, it rejoined the
Poona-based association, which changed its own name to Marathi

Tamasha Parishad in a gesture of compromise.

 

 

5Rajabhau Thitey, Journalist, private interview, Poona,
January, 1971.

6Idem. Balasaheb Desai stood to profit personally from
the split, in his capacity as contractor for one of the theatres,
according to Thitey.

136

In assessing the usefulness of the Marathi Tamasha Parishad
and its effect upon the Tamasha profession and the State Government,
it is important to look back at the early history of the Parishad-
Government dialogue.

When the first Parishad conference opened in 1955, most
Tamasha troupes were in pitiful financial shape. Those which managed
to survive the 1947 ban were subsequently harassed with taxes and
oppressive licensing regulations. Living and working conditions
were intolerable, and prostitution exacted a high toll in venereal
disease among the woman artists.7

Poona's Aryabhushan Theatre was the site of the first
conference and some 300 Tamasha representatives turned up from all
over the State. Presiding over the event was a Poona Congress Party
leader, Keshavrao Jedhe. There were also other political leaders,
social leaders, journalists, and "educated women” in attendance,
according to one of the reports in the Poona daily Sakal.8 Improve-
ment of Tamasha was the main issue.

All the guest speakers referred to the key-note theme,
which was the need to convince the Government to stop harassing the
Tamasha troupes with harsh regulations. Subsidiary themes included
the reconsideration of the place of Tamasha among village illiterates

and the backward classes; a new look at how cinema was influencing

 

7In an unpublished survey conducted in 1959 by Durga
Bhagvat, forty per cent of the female artists interviewed were
suffering from venereal diseases. (From Rajabhau Thitey, private
interview, January, 1971.)

BSakal (Poona), June 26, 1955, Entertainment Section.

137

the traditional forms of mass entertainment; and a plea to the
Government to give added support to Tamasha by promoting its use

as a medium of development propaganda. Final recommendations urged
the Parishad to place the plight of Tamasha directly before the
Government.

The event received excellent coverage in most of the daily
and weekly newspapers in both Marathi and English.9 This publicity
helped to generate public reappraisal of the place of Tamasha in
society. The Government responded by establishing a Stage Performances
Scrutiny Board to regulate Tamasha more effectively.

But the drive to further improve the lot of artists, col—
lectively and individually, continued. A second conference of the
Parishad was held in July, 1956, presided over by the humorist and
playwright P. L. Deshpande, whose keynote address was aimed at over-
coming middle-class hostility to the "vigorous” form of Tamasha and
at promoting active support for the artists. The momentum was
carried over with renewed energy to the third conference in August,
1957. This time, the scholar Durga Bhagvat was honored for her
devoted efforts on behalf of Tamasha, and she was named president
for the event. A set of resolutions emerged at the close, and they
are worth quoting to indicate the state of the art in 1957, and the
hopes of the profession for the future, particularly the call for

(Sovernment help and understanding:

 

9Newspapers consulted in English and Marathi (in trans-
lai:ion), and specific dates of publication, are listed in the
bitaiiography section of this study.

138

1. All shows should be tax free, because Tamasha is Maharashtra's
indigenous entertainment form. It should be uplifted to the
status it once enjoyed.

2. A license for a troupe should be valid for all districts and
it should be paid for once only.

3. The Government's midnight closing hour for all entertainments
hampers Tamasha troupes in the villages, where programs begin
as late as 10 p.m. The closing hour should therefore be
extended to 2 a.m., and this should be noted in troupe
licenses.

4. A tax of one rupee (7.5 cents) per day per show should be
taken.

5. Bombay Government should have Tamasha competitions and modest
prizes should be awarded.

6. Old lavanis should be broadcast by radio centres at Bombay,
Poona, and Nagpur.

7. Selections by the sangeet-baaris are no longer those of
Tamasha song traditions. Film songs and popular bhajans
are often sung today, and this is changing the public view
of Tamasha. The Government should see that pure lavanis
are sung.

 

8. In Poona, Bombay and Sholapur, theatres are graded in a
manner which discriminates against the 'B' and 'C' category
theatres. By this grading system, the Tamasha form has
suffered further setbacks of a business nature. The
Government should not disfavor the 'B' and 'C' grades.

9. We note that Tamasha lavanis and va 5 are now scrutinized
and that stamps of approval are given by the Government's
Tamasha Improvement Committee. We suggest that at least
one person from Tamasha be named to this committee.
With internal dissentions, a breakaway faction in Bombay,
and little real perceived improvement among the poorer segments of

the Tamasha communities, the succeeding Parishad conferences lost

‘thefir initial zeal. They soon developed into convenient gathering

 

'O"Third Maharashtra Tamasha Conference,” Mauj (Bombay),
August 24, 1957, page unknown.

139

places for theatre contractors, for the better troupes seeking new
work contracts, and for politicians seeking support from troupes in
exchange for offers of contracts at election time. Nevertheless,
the concerned guest speakers at these events continued to call for
further understanding and support of the art and of the practitioners
of Tamasha. Some studies were also launched to improve the existing
knowledge about the real needs of Tamasha. Miss Bhagvat, for example,
was encouraged to do a research project in 1958 involving interviews
with some 2,000 Tamasha artists. Although the data, gathered in
1959, was never processed, Miss Bhagvat was still able to conclude
that living conditions for artists were generally dreadful, that
family life was practically non-existent for itinerant troupe members,
and that children travelling with troupes were unable to identify
their parents.H
Another study, which was never edited or published, was

sponsored in 1964 by the Parishad. It was to have been a "who's who”

in Tamasha, based on a collection of life sketches of 400 artists.

Government Responses to the Parishad Challenge

But for the most part, effective action involving Tamasha was
left by the Parishad to the Government. Responding to the resolutions
Of the 1957 Parishad, the Government lifted the prohibitive enter-
tainment tax from box offices, enabling artists to share in more of

tJie gate receipts. Permission was also granted Tamasha artists to

 

HDurga Bhagvat, private interview, Bombay, January, 1971;
also Rajabhau Thitey, private interview, January, 1971.

140

claim certain priorities as regular artists in matters of housing and
food rations.

More direct financial aid was made available by the State
Publicity Directorate for propaganda tours of villages in support
of development programs. Finally, the Cultural Department began to

provide aid on an increasing scale in support of annual Mahotsavas

 

(festivals) which bring together leading sangeet-baaris and dholki-

 

baaris for week-long public displays of Tamasha talent.

According to Rajaram Humane, Cultural Affairs Director for
the State Government, the Mahotsava was created to build the popularity
of Tamasha among urban and educated classes. The intended effect,
he told me, was to increase the measure of social status of the
artists in the eyes of the urban middle-classes.

Mr. Humane was also developing plans to establish training
camps for young Tamasha apprentices. The training would cover
costuming, singing, dancing, and instructional work. (The camps
were to have been operative by 1974.)

On the more repressive side, however, the Government in 1958
decreed: that female artists could no longer sit outside Tamasha
theatres as live advertisements to their professional entertainments;
that vulgarity in dialogue, song, and gesture was not to be tolerated;

and that money offered in daulat-jadda could not touch the hands of
12

 

singers and dancers. (The Government had previously legislated

1'hnits to daulat—jadda.)

 

 

12V. K. Joshi, _p, 915,, p. 184.

141

The 1971 Marathi Tamasha Parishad

 

Because of the changed political picture in India following
the March 1971 national elections, and the electoral sweep by Indira
Gandhi's New Congress Party, a new political balance was required
in the ranks of Tamasha. In the light of political developments, it

will be useful for me to report on the May,l97l Marathi Tamasha
l3

 

Parishad, which I attended in Poona.
On the surface, it was a happy occasion. Advance public
excitement was generated by newspaper announcements and much public
entertainment was featured to please the public. The best of the
"raw" Tamasha troupes from the Poona region, and from Sholapur,
Kolhapur, and Belgaum, were on hand. In all, there were twenty

dholki-baaris and fourteen sangeet—baaris, with a complement of 1,200

 

 

artists. For a full week there were nightly open-air performances on
a temporary stage in Poona's Nehru Memorial Stadium. Organizers
reported total attendance at more than 50,000 people.

The official program, which lasted three days, featured
speeches by film stars, writers, and State Government political
leaders. Thousands applauded veteran film actor of the Hindi screen,
Raj Kapoor, when he said that real and meaningful art could only
come out of the life of the peOple, whereas the cinema produced art
of an artificial variety because cinema actors were so far removed

from the people. Tamasha artists, Kapoor insisted, were fortunately

 

13Material for the section on the 1971 Parishad conference
was; gathered from personal observation, private interviews with
ortuanizers, participants, and guest speakers, and from English-
laruguage newspaper reports of the conference, notably the Poona
Herttld, Poona Daily News, Times of India, and Indian Express.

‘ N _ , ____

 

142

rooted in this life of the people. He recalled how swiftly the
Government ban on Tamasha was lifted in 1948. It didn't work, he
said, because no government could afford to ban a people's art.

Marathi humorist, P. L. Deshpande took up his favorite theme,
and in an impassioned speech reminiscent of his appearances at
previous Parishad meetings, he scolded large segments of the middle-
classes for ignoring Tamasha. Defending the ”vigorous" and lively
art form, Deshpande urged Tamasha artists to shed their traditional
feelings of social inferiority because they were endowed with the
gift of ”divine” art, and as such they were the equals of the more
prominent Marathi artists and musicians.

In an attempt to draw the interests of women to an under-
standing and appreciation of the art form, one of the better known
Marathi film stars, Jayashree Gadkar, reiterated Raj Kapoor's view
that Tamasha performers were the truly genuine artists of Maharashtra.
She advised the dancers in particular not to give up their traditional
dress, especially the original nine-yard sari,

The luminaries of the entertainment world were followed by
the social and political leaders, some of whom called for social
and economic reform in the lives of the Tamasha artists. There were
familiar references to the need for according social recognition and
status to the artists, and resolutions were proclaimed demanding
increased Government economic aid in the form of co-operative housing
scfliemes, decent earnings, educational and training facilities, estab-
lisfwnent of more Tamasha theatres in Poona and Bombay, and appoint-

UKflTt of a State "Tamasha Officer.”

143

Meetings and speeches continued by day and performances were
held at night. On several occasions, evening entertainments started
at 9 p.m., and continued until four o'clock the following morning.

The casual observer, however, would have been surprised to

learn that this 1971 Marathi Tamasha Parishad featured a dramatic

 

play-within-a-play, and that the entire proceedings were filled with
bitter arguments and denunciations. The bitterness led to a new
split with the Bombay group, which proceeded to set up a new and
parallel organization reminiscent of the 1956 aborted split by the
Bombay faction.

The present trouble centered around control of the Marathi

Tamasha Parishad organization by officials of the New Congress party.

 

Politics, we have noted, played a role in this organization since
its beginnings when attempts to bring Shahir Amar Shaikh into the
Parishad committee were thwarted by the Old Congress party; and
politics were still at work in 1971 as seen in attempts to gain
favor with the artists and troupes. The results of this lobbying
activity are seen at election time when Tamasha troupes return
favors by doing propaganda work.

The 1971 Parishad showed the same political concerns. As
a result of the New Congress election sweep on the national level,
its position on local and State levels was considerably enhanced

and leaders moved swiftly to gain control of the Tamasha Parishad.

 

'They clearly succeeded, according to my informants.
One of the factors in favor of New Congress was the lack-

'hJstre performance of the Parishad in recent years. Parishads have

144

come and gone and, with them, annual grants of 5,000 pepeee ($666.66)
for the organization; but for the most part, nothing dramatically
positive had developed to help the lot of the Tamasha artists. From
a strong beginning in 1955, 1956, and 1957, when the Government was
pressured into taking positive measures, the organization had
languished aimlessly. The 1971 Parishad provided a good opening
for the New Congress Party to woo the Tamasha profession, with an
obvious eye on the 1972 State elections.

While the Party was busy wooing the Tamasha artists, the new
Bombay group, representing several hundred artists, struck a counter-
blow by boycotting the May event and setting up its own organization.
The leader of the new movement was Madhu Nerale, proprietor of Bombay's
New Hanuman Theatre, referred to previously in this study. He held
the belief, current in Bombay, that political motives were behind
the activities of the Poona-based organization, and that little or
nothing would be done to help the artists. He was, moreover, persuaded
that the organization had lost touch with the individual artists to
such an extent that many were indifferent to it. Figures on the 1971
Parishad conference supported Nerale: of the hundreds of troupes in the

State, only fourteen sangeet—baaris and twenty dholki-baaris turned

 

 

up for the conference in Poona. Only one troupe from the Bombay
region attended, representing ten artists out of some 250 who worked
inore or less permanently in Bombay.
Nerale said the disaffection stemmed from the fact that the
.Efiflliéflié had, in recent years, failed to come to grips with the

Tunablems of the Tamasha professionals. Many troupes still had

145

difficulties in obtaining performing licenses, economic conditions
were still pitiful for the majority of the artists, and the social
and cultural positions of the artists in society had not advanced

in the way that was promised over the years by guest speakers sent
from various State Government ministries. In Nerale's view, blame
for the situation is largely attributable to the fact that politi-

cians had been in effective control of the Marathi Tamasha Parishad

 

since the late 19505. Nerale claimed, moreover, that people who had
nothing to do with Tamasha could not hope to run an effective
organization in the interests of the artists.

Nerale's concerns were echoed even in official quarters: in
recent years, the Maharashtra Government's Ministry of Culture had
been deliberately by-passing the Parishad in supplying aid directly
to artists. The Tamasha Improvement Committee annually sponsored a
Tamasha festival (a Mahotsava), costing some 75,000 pppeee ($11,000).
Greedy for more power, the politicians behind the Parishad had been
making overtures to the Government to take over control of the annual
festival. In the face of a refusal by the Ministry of Culture, the
Parishad itself boycotted the Tamasha Mahotsava held in Bombay early
in March, 1971. In a counter-move, the Maharashtra Government
suspended further grants to the Parishad which amounted to 5,000
Iypee§_($666) each year.

Nerale drew the conclusion from this rivalry that a discredited
part of the New Congress Party was trying to use the Parishad to

flirther its influence and power.

146

Nerale's new organization was designed fep_the artists. It
was to be run by them and it was to be devoted to solving their own
problems.

Before I left India (July, 1971), some of the finest artists,
troupes and influencial writers had joined the new group. Among them
was Shahir Bapurao Punekar, leader of his own troupe and author of
many eege,

The politics of Tamasha must not, however, blind us to the
real gains made for Tamasha by the successive Parishad conferences
and an ever-attentive State Government. The lot of many of the
artists has improved considerably and, according to Thitey,14 as
many as eighty dholki-baaris have by now each amassed floating
capital of roughly 100,000 pepee§_($l3,333) along with touring vehicles,
tents, and lighting and electrical equipment.

Radhabai Budgaonkar and her troupe, for example, are worth
between 300,000 pppee§_($39,999) to 400,000 pppee§_($53,333), including
vehicle and tent. Thitey also estimated that the troupe of Shondi
Kondi Patel, of Jalgaon, was worth about the same.

Before the Parishad came into being in 1955, very few troupes
were prospering and a typical Tamasha artist would be lucky to earn
a [epee a day. Today the majority of Tamasha artists can count on a
rninimum daily earning capacity of twenty eepeee during the good
iueather season. It represents a modest income, providing the basic

necessities of living and a little extra for family support.

 

14Rajabhau Thitey, private interview, March, 1971.

147

The Parishad was also directly responsible for having pressured
the Government into action. In addition to the legislation and as-
sistance reported above, there are now annual pensions of 4,500 rupees
($600), to elderly retired artists, as well as:

. . travel concessions for troupes, grants for talented artists
and funds for Tamasha co-operative institutions [mainly housing].
Classes for Tamasha aspirants are also held.

The Government also appointed a literary collection committee

under the chairmanship of the folk-art scholar, Sarojini Babar,16 with

a view to preparing published collections of Tamasha songs.

Stage Performances Scrutiny Board

The Government's Scrutiny Board was established in 1955 to
censor Tamasha as a medium for radical propaganda and to curb the
extremes of lewdness and coarseness found among many of the "raw"
troupes. The Board's original concern was for Tamasha, but by 1960,
the censorship net was extended to cover all stage performances,
including serious (non-Tamasha) Marathi drama productions.

Rules of the Board deal with licensing and controlling places

17

of public amusement (other than cinemas), and with public performances.

They provide for the right of the Government to rule on the suitability

15Emily Estes, ”Maharashtra Folk Theatre," unpublished paper
for Colorado State University, December, 1970, p. 25.

16Miss Babar has most recently authored a short Marathi
inmnphlet, Tamasha, published by Anand Press (Poona: 1971). The work
is larief and insubstantial, but it is essentially meant to explain
true ”low-class" Tamasha form to overcome middle-class disdain.

17Rules of the Stage Performances Scrutiny Board, Government
of'hmaharashtra (Bombay). 1960. (Mimeographed) See typewritten copy
in Appendix G to this study.

148

of all new entertainments. The producer of a Tamasha troupe is
obliged to submit two forms, along with a basic script or scenario
of his new production. One of these is Form ”I”, the application
for "the grant of a Certificate of Suitability." It must be submitted
two months before date of first performance. A second form, "J”,
is returned to the producer as certification of suitability. Between
the first submission and the final receipt of his certificate, a
producer may have to arrange with his authors for modifications,
according to the decision of the Board.
The power to refuse a certificate is set out in great detail
and it may cover any material which may be interpreted as being:
. against the interests of the Sovereignty and integrity of
India, or the security of the State, friendly relations with
foreign States, public order, decency or morality, or involves
contempt of court or is likely to involve the commission of any
offence or involves defamation of any high personality (living
or deceased) or of any person (living or deceased) of repute
in the literary, social or political field or is grossly 18
indecent, scurrilous or obscene or is intended for blackmail.
The guiding principles of the Board are based on the preser-
vation of moral standards and the prevailing laws.
Defending the Board's work is its secretary, M. P. Shirshat.
He told me that in the five years he has worked for the Board only
”some scripts and a few plot outlines“ had been rejected, mainly on

1119

grounds of ”indecent language. In such cases, the Board either

«deletes objectionable portions or rejects the scripts entirely.

 

18M” Chapter x11, Rule 139.

19M. P. Shirshat, private interview, Bombay, November, 1970.

149

Rejection of Tamasha (mostly loknatya) scripts was becoming
increasingly rare, Shirshat said; however serious Marathi drama was
causing some concern. I learned that in 1967 the Board rejected

Pratap Sharma's A Touch of Brightness, which portrayed the lives of

 

prostitutes imprisoned in cages. (The cages exist in real life, and
they are regarded as a Bombay tourist sight.) The Board found the
play obscure from the point of view of staging, but the language

was considered direct and offensive. ”You see," remarked Shirshat,
"we have to visualize the scripts at the same time as we examine the
text." (Sharma has since filed a suit against the Board.)

After sitting in on a regular meeting of the Scrutiny Board
at its Bombay offices, I was impressed with the relaxed manner in
which the scrutinization process was conducted. Each session brings
together a dozen experts from different sectors of society and each
producer is asked to appear before the group to defend and otherwise
discuss his proposed entertainment. It is a cumbersome process, but
as the Board chairman C. P. Godsay remarked, it was the only way to
comply with the Government's regulations. Godsay, incidentally, is
an official of the Bank of India.

In the past, however, the regulations were observed with
much greater care. I am told that in the 19505 Sarojini Babar used
her position as member of the Scrutiny Board to censor performances
(Jf classic lavanis so that the underlying sexuality could be cleaned
IJp and made respectable. The only public dissenting voice on the

nnatter was that of another woman-—Durga Bhagvat.20

 

20Vijay Tendulkar, private interview, Bombay, December, 1970;
Durxga Bhagvat, private interview, Bombay, January, 1971.

150

Although a less prurient view has now seemingly emerged at
the Scrutiny Board, the effects of tampering by censors may still be
seen, and productions often display a diluted appearance. And where
excessive Scrutiny Board interference may have been discontinued,
many troupes have themselves taken it upon themselves to ”pander to
public taste by watering down their entertainments and by adopting
popular film music and glittering but totally extraneous, stage
techniques." In some cases, artists have become so sensitive to
Government regulations that ”they all start singing nationalistic
songs if they see educated people at their performances."2'

Script submissions to the Board are generally ten to fifteen
pages in length. They present the eeg_scenario and segments of
dialogue which carry the plot from start to finish; but it is under-
stood by all concerned with the Board's activities that the script
is really only an approximation of the real thing. The "real thing”
is the final improvised product which occurs during actual production
on the stage.

In the first year of the Board's operation (1955), a total
of fifty—eight Tamasha scripts were submitted for certification.

In 1956, the figure jumped dramatically to 253, and by 1969, it
reached 348. The following figures were made available to me for
the intervening years: 1957 (296); 1958 (254); 1959 (202); 1960
(275); 1961 (270); 1962 (331); 1963 (332); 1964 (448); 1965 (329);
'1966 (397); 1967 (249); 1968 (356). Altogether, the total number

of: Tamasha script submissions from 1955 through 1969 was 4,398.22

 

21Vijay Tendulkar, lee, git,

22M. P. Shirshat, lee. e_i_t_.

151

The files of Tamasha scripts at the Stage Performances
Scrutiny Board should prove a valuable source of material for further
research into content analysis or literary criticism of the post-
Independence period folk-theatre scene. They will not, however,
contain the full text and flavor of live Tamasha eeg§_which can only
be completed effectively by fine folk artists with lively improvi-

sational talents that go far beyond the confines of a script.

CHAPTER V

EARLY EXPERIMENTS IN PROPAGANDA

The purpose of this chapter is to study the most dominant

feature of Tamasha in the twentieth century--its utilization for

social and political propaganda--and to examine the effects, if any,

of propagandistic manipulation upon the folk form itself.

Tamasha for Propaganda: An Overview

 

In our review of the development of Maharastrian folk enter-
tainments (Chapter II), it was mentioned that content served utili-
tarian purposes. Pure entertainment needs were satisfied by the
pleasing formal arrangements of the content components.1 Thus, the
poet-saints of Maharashtra composed enticing songs, dances, and
skits to bring their moral teachings to the rural masses. In the

absence of other means of mass communication, these popular folk
2

forms served as “folk media,‘I or ”traditional media,‘ of communication.
When Tamasha developed as a publicly accepted form (about the

time of Shivaji the Great), the entertainment value became more

pronounced, but so did the message-carrying potential. In Shivaji's

time, the messages no longer stressed themes of devotion and morality,

 

 

1Mention was made in Chapter II of the dominant sentiment of
Tamashauhasya, or the comic.

2See definitions of these terms, Introduction, supra.

152

153

but secular and emotionally appealing ones of bravery, nationalism,
and militarism, as noted in the discussion of the shahiri tradition
in Chapter II. In the process, the poet-saints gave way to the new
breed of people's poets, or shahirs, who roamed the Deccan singing
stirring povadas in praise of the brave Shivaji. But at the same
time, the folk artists could command such attention for their pure
entertainment that many performed with impunity in the camps of the
Moghul armies while they ferreted out military secrets for the
Maratha Chieftains.

The shift toward secularism became more pronounced after the
British entry into India in the eighteenth century, when more worldly
concepts of social and political reform came into open currency.

But with the opulent reign of the Peshvas (Prime Ministers) in the
eighteenth century, strong court patronage for shahirs and other
Tamasha artists led to a flowering of the more lyrical and enter-
taining strains in the folk form, and it wasn't until the close of
the nineteenth century that new waves of social and political con-
sciousness were again noticed, mainly in response to British rule
in Maharashtra.

The first issues of the modern period included the prevailing
caste system, illiteracy, outmoded superstitions, and the oppression
(Jf women. Among noteworthy experiments early this century were those
(Jf Jotirao Phule's non—Brahmin organization, the Truthseekers
(Satfitye Shodhak Samaj), and Lokamanya Tilak's freedom movement, of
vniich more will be said in this chapter.

As the drive to Indian national liberation developed, more

Edwariirs and Tamasha troupes began to include appropriate patriotic

154

themes in their songs and eege, By the 1930s, Tamasha had become a
viable vehicle for anti-British propaganda, especially after the
British authorities had banned the urban Marathi historical plays
which tried to bring subtle messages of dissent to the people.3 The
folk form was exempt from precensorship because it was the least
suspect of all vehicles.

But even as late as the 19305 there was still sufficient
intellectual contempt for Tamasha which kept urban political and
social leaders, as well as “committed” artists, from further exploiting
the form. Those intellectuals who managed to break through this preju-
dice and work with the folk form dared to go only as far as using the
accepted peyege_ballad form. Among them, as we shall see, was Shahir
Naniwadekar.

It was the Communists who overcame the major social stigmas
attached to Tamasha while they fashioned a strong instrument of
propaganda out of it. The Communists were also responsible for
raising the status of the form, since their experiments were finely
and artistically wrought.4 In this respect, the most outstanding
names are Annabhau Sathe, D. N. Gavankar, and Shahir Amar Shaikh.

Further experiments by the Socialists and other political
organizations and committed artists contributed to the refinement

of Tamasha, making it an acceptable (if watered down and tamed)

 

3Shahir Atmaram Patil, private interview, Bombay, March 11,
1971.

4Idem.

 

155

medium of entertainment, satire, and propaganda for both rural and
urban audiences.

One point must be stressed in this discussion before directing
our attention in greater detail to these twentieth century experi-
ments in propaganda. It is that from the point of view of proper
employment of peeee, or dominant states of feeling, propaganda is
naturally fitted into the philosophical and aesthetic scheme of
Tamasha entertainments.

The folk theatre form contains three basic traditions: (1)
the entertainment tradition as expressed through leeepi_love songs
and xeg_dramas, evoking very often the sringara (romantic) and the
heeye_(comic) peeee; (2) the more serious propagandistic tradition,
concerned with ideas, which pursues the eipe_:e§e_(bravery) through
the strongly masculine peeeee ballads as performed by the great shahirs
and their accompanists; and (3) the devotional tradition according to
the dictates of the ppek31_transcendentalist movement which inspired
folk troupes to express moral truths in the play of witty songs and
dialogues.5

Thus, entertainment, propaganda, and devotion all find a

logical reason for being in Tamasha.

The Jalsas of the Sahitya Shodhak Samaj

 

Jotirao Phule (1817-1890) was one of the earliest Indian
reformers under British colonial rule to accept the challenge posed

11y new Western ideas to the traditional culture of India. But unlike

 

5Idem.

156

the sophisticated, upper-caste views of his Aryan contemporaries,
Phule was concerned with revolutionary transformation among the low-
caste, non-aryan, peasant masses. His message was essentially wrapped

up in the word "non-Brahmanism," but it also included condemnation of

 

the caste system, uplifting the status of women in society, and pro-
posals for sweeping social change at village level.6

The movement he founded (1874) was called Sahitya Shodhak

 

Semej_(lruthseekers), and emphasis was placed literally upon seeking
truth, guided only by individual reason. The organization disappeared
after 1930 as the broader and more popular nationalist drive claimed
the energies of more and more revolutionaries and other dissidents.

The Truthseekers utilized all the available mass media and
traditional media outlets, including newspapers, pamphlets, posters,
books, speaking engagements, and folk music and theatre presentations.
The live programs were designed to spread the radical ideas of the
movement among peasants in the remote villages. These presentations
included religiously—inspired phejep_and kiEEep_forms, secular
povadas, and complete Tamashas, called jeleee) or concerts, to
distinguish their ”high social purpose'I from pure Tamasha enter-
tainment.7

Most accounts of the work of the Truthseekers remain un-

documented, buried in the recollections of surviving elders in society.

From the accounts I was able to gather, the jalsa was one of the

 

6Gail Omvedt, Jotirao Phule and the Ideology of Social Revo-
ltJtion in India. Unpublished article (Poona: 1971).

7Gail Omvedt, personal letter, April 1, 1971. Miss Omvedt
rurtesq however, that early references to these programs (about the year
19163) use the phrase "Sahitya Shodhak instructory Tamashas."

 

157

movement's most potent devices in the rural areas at a time when the
literacy rates were well below the present levels.

gel§e_programs were spontaneously created in villages and
then sent out on tours in the region. Particularly strong support
was made available in Satara district, south of Poona where, in 1920,
a wave of rural uprisings against Brahmin authority was directly
attributable to the effects of a jelee_tour. According to the folk
scholar Y. N. Kelkar, there were a number of cases recorded in which
.jeleee so fired the passions of the untouchable peasants that the
spectators went on to burn the homes, farms, and godowns of the
8

Brahmins.

The official organ of the Sahitya Shodhak Samaj provides more

 

information on the use of jeleee, The publication is Dip_thpe, On
March 14, 1923, a schedule of jelee_performances in Ahmednagar dis-
trict is made available. The issue makes note of the fact that a
jel§e_can address an audience ”with humiliating effect.”

On another occasion, Djp_Mippe notes that 900 spectators
turned out for a jel§e_performance at Tisgaon. The item claims
audiences of 1,000 to 2,000 are not uncommon and that these jeleee
are strong carriers of the movement's message, being more effective
than speeches in village context.9

Among the authors of content materials for the jelee§_was
Tllkaram Ganpatrao Bhosle (b.1885). One of his yeg§_was Kulkarni-

inlamrut, written in the 19205, and based upon an earlier book bearing

 

8Y. N. Kelkar, private interview, Poona, July, 1971.

9_jp Mitra, March 14; November 9, 1923.

 

158

the same title by Mukundrao Patil, publisher of Djp_Mi£pe, Both the
book and the play deal with the treacheries of the Kulkarni, a village
upper-caste leader. The hero in the play is a low-caste weaver.

Class lines are strongly drawn.

Jotirao Phule didn't travel with the jelee_troupes but he did
write many of his own abhangas and povadas on the subject of social
reform. An early disciple, Shahir Dhondi Namdev, performed these
compositions. Another follower was Prabhakar Bhalekar, who carried
on Phule's cause after his death. Bhalekar also helped to recruit
and organize the performing troupes which carried the jelee§_to
remote villages.

There is no accurate estimate of the number of troupes used
for propaganda by the movement, but Shahir Atmaram Patil offered the
figure of twenty-five. Some of the better-known troupes were those
headed by Shahir Indurao Rane, Shankarao Baravkar, and Baburao Bundoba
Bhoite.10

The Sahitya Shodak Samaj was the first sponsoring body for

 

modern radical exploitation of Tamasha as a social weapon of propa-
ganda. This experience was to serve as a base for later and more

refined exploitation of the folk form.

The Melas of Lokamanya Tilak

 

According to Shahir D. N. Gavankar, Lokamanya Tilak helped
tc> restore folk arts to the cities, overcoming the traditional urban

arui upper-caste disdain for them. He did so consciously, and with a

 

'OShahir Atmaram Patil, 1.99 _c_j_’e.

159

cleverly disguised social and secular propagandistic aim, and his
efforts paved the way for later experiments in the use of Tamasha
for propaganda in both urban and rural communities."

Tilak, who lived from 1856 to 1920, was the leader of the
Indian national liberation movement before Gandhi. He was a
Maharashtrian, and he made use of a variety of Marathi folk forms,
including elements of Tamasha to revive "the lost moral dignity and
self esteem of the people."

In 1893, he created a revivalist movement centered on the
Ganesh Festival, which he turned into a "a powerful engine for
imparting instruction to the masses."12 He organized the festival
as an annual ten-day community event. The festival dealt with
mythological material to disguise from British authorities the real
political and economic messages. The idea quickly spread from
Maharashtra to the entire country. Tilak repeated the process by
infusing new meaning into the Shivaji Festival, this time based
on the revered figure of Maharashtrian history in order to renew the
people's dedication to nationalist ideals.

Tilak's innovative approach to propaganda centered on his
melee, which literally means ”gathering," but which is also used to
mean a festival entertainment. The melee, which were inaugurated in

1905, contained songs and dramatic elements put together in a style

 

HShahir D. N. Gavankar, private interview, Bombay, March 11,

1971.

'20. V. Tahmankar, Lokamanya Tilak (London: John Murray,
1956), pp. 60-67.

 

160

reminiscent of Shahir Patthe Bapurao's experimentation with the meg_
form at about the same period in time. (Bapurao, it will be recalled,
was working in the pure entertainment tradition to give new shape and
form to the emerging Tamasha meg,)

As for propaganda content, the songs, povadas, and short
dramatic skits were loaded with double meanings aimed against the
British. Poets and singers, committed to Tilak's ideals, wrote and
performed works which attracted even the upper classes, and which
influenced a new generation of socially committed artists and intel-
lectuals.'3

The melee continued to be performed over the years at the
Ganesh and Shivaji festivals and they were considered to be the most
important propaganda vehicles for reaching the masses. Organization
of the melee was carried out by the revolutionary group, Abhinav
Bmemee_(Modern India), which sponsored underground activities against
the British. One of the noted terrorists and freedom fighters of the
day was Shahir V. D. Sarwarkar, whose povadas advanced Tilak's
ideals, forcing the British to ban them in 1909.

The mele_was popular and effective because of several factors.
In the first place, it utilized folk forms which were both traditional
and familiar to the people. Secondly, it struck a happy philosophical

balance between materialism (mala), and spiritualism (atma). This

 

balanced approach to content is a traditional means of reaching the

ccmmmn people and it is in a direct line of descent from Saint

 

1312992321: V01. 16, No. 21-22 (November, 1969), p. 61.

161

Namdev's eele, or shephered songs, which featured direct statements
in simple Marathi expressions.14

As we shall see, the lesson of the mele was not lost upon
later radicals, notably Amar Shaikh, who often turned to the abhanga
and the kolhati fisherman song forms in his efforts to diffuse modern

ideas to simple peasants and fisher-folk.

The 19305 and Shahir Naniwadekar

 

Tilak's movement lost its momentum and disappeared entirely
by the 1930s; but the melee_did manage to achieve a popularity which
surpassed the jeleee of the Truthseekers. By this time, however, the
prevailing revolutionary spirit had settled upon one burning political
issue: independence for India. With the disappearance of the jeleee_
and melee, Tamasha ceased to be an instrument of propaganda and
continued to survive only as pure distracting entertainment.

But even at this time, a new thread in the story of experi-
mentation with Tamasha for propaganda may be picked up. It is to be
found in the work of Shahir Naniwadekar who wrote and performed
activist povadas and lavanis that included advice to the people on
methods of physical resistance in the coming struggle with the British.
Other shahirs followed in this tradition: Muchate, Pralhadrao, and

Sopandev Chaudhari.'5

L

14D. N. Gavankar, lee, ell,

15$hahir Atmaram Patil, "Such is the Shahiri Tradition,"
Shahir Naubat (March, 1970), p. 78.

 

162

It was Naniwadekar who brought Tamasha elements back to the
city stages, just as Tilak's melee_brought them to the city's streets
and parks at festival time. It should be noted that, except for
Patthe Bapurao's short-lived stage appearance in Bombay, there were
practically no Tamasha entertainments on the stages of the major
cities at the time. The theatres which are today dedicated exclu-
sively to Tamasha performances--the New Hanuman and the Bombay Theatre
in Bombay, and the Aryabhushan in Poona--did not exist before
Naniwadekar.

Naniwadekar brought his activist-type folk material (including
dramatic skits, povadas, lyrical lavanis, and eekelee or imitations
of devotional kirtans), to the urban stage in 1936. The occasion was

important. It was the annual conference of the Maharashtra Sahitya

 

Parishad, or Maharashtra Literary Society. Although most of the
delegates weren't impressed with the experiment, one man's interest
was kindled: Shahir D. N. Gavankar, a peeeeefsinger and interpreter
of the ballads of V. D. Sarwarkar (who was referred to in our dis-
cussion of Tilak's EEflEEi1-

Adopting Naniwadekar as his eeee_and accepting increasing
encouragement from the Communist party, with its vision of class
divisions and class struggles, Gavankar widened his repertoire of
radical povadas and extended his work to include the whole range of
Tamasha form elements.

From the perspective of the 1970s, we can now see that Shahir
Naniwadekar was a vital link between the beginning of the independence

movement in Maharashtra and its fullest and most profound expression

163

in folk art which extended from 1942 until the achievement of nation-

hood in 1947.

The Communists

 

If the jeleee_and the melee_helped to legitimize Tamasha as
a viable vehicle for the advancement of social, political, and
economic ideas, the Communists may be credited with exploiting it
fully, raising its status, and refining it as loknatya. These Com-
munists were primarily artists and their ideological commitment was
woven and not hammered into their entertainments. The most note-
worthy names among them were 0. N. Gavankar, Annabhau Sathe, and
Amar Shaikh.

In 1942, Gavankar formed a Tamasha troupe with the help of
the Communist party, and it was joined shortly afterward by Shaikh,
a composer and singer, and Sathe, a writer and actor. The troupe

was called Lalbawata Kala Pathak, or Red Flag Cultural Squad. The

 

group was at first loosely associated with the Indian People's
Theatre Association (IPTA), which had been formed in 1941 on a
national level by progressive left-wing artists. Branches of IPTA
quickly sprung up all through the country,16 as socially committed
artists joined in the growing propaganda struggle against British

imperialism.

 

16Many of these branches are still active today although IPTA
has become politically neutral since Independence. Only the Kerala
branch retains its original radical spirit. Many of the early IPTA
artists in Maharashtra, like G. D. Madgulkar, went on to achieve fame
in film, radio, and the recording industry.

164

Gavankar's cultural squad was reorganized in 1947 and renamed

' the Loknatya Kala Pathak, or People's Theatre Cultural Squad. This

 

was a more formal link with IPTA which lasted until 1953, when Shaikh
split with the more stalwart Communist ideologues--Sathe and Gavankar--

and formed his own troupe called Amar Shaikh Nav Maharashtra Kala

 

Pathak (Amar Shaikh's New Maharashtra Cultural Squad).

Shahir D. N. Gavankar

 

The early days of the Red Flag Cultural Squad tell much of
the energies and talents of the man who organized it—-Shahir D. N.
Gavankar. The first production was Gavankar's own Tamasha meg)

Bandya Divan (”Bandya the Accountant”), which dwelled on the evils

 

of the black market. It opened with a traditional song form in which
the "problem” was clearly set out before the audience:

There was a moneylender in Badlapur,

Who had a thousand acres of land.

He thrived on black market gains.

The lust for money knew no bounds.

Bandya, the accountant, looked after his books.
With war on the horizon,

The moneylender looked to grain.

He bought it cheap in cities,

And sold it at a high price.

Gavankar was earnest in the script; there is little humor or
witty satire to be found. He told me of the real life conditions in
Maharashtra which existed in the early 19405 and which led to creation
of the play:

The black market was bleeding the people dry. It was

nearly impossible to get decent food, staples, and clothing

material. Prices were very high. The Communist Party was
making strong demands for the institution of controls and for

165
fpgeegpl lowering of the costof living. So I wrote this

Gavankar's piece wasn't of the traditional variety. There
was no devotional song at the start and no geelee_segment dealing
with Krishna and the milkmaids; but it did utilize the traditional
meg_form which opened with a high-pitched narrative chant. It also
made use of all the traditional musical instruments found in Tamasha,
and it contained some of the best-loved folk song forms--lavanis,

kavalis, chakkads, and the question-and-answer sawal-jababs.

 

 

But its content was tough and unrelenting in its exposure
of the efforts of Bandya, the village accountant, to amass a great
deal of wealth by hoarding scarce Government-controlled grain for
subsequent resale at tremendous and illegal profits. Gavankar's
insights are bitter:

EAL!
. Do you know what the moneylender's asking for grain?
M

I guess you haven't heard that there's government control on
grain prices.

BALU
Hah! Controls! Once the village leader and the inspector
are paid off a little, then all your government control goes
straight to the moneylender.
A few moments later, Balu, a farmer, sings of the situation in its

wider context, almost in the manner of a Brechtian song which broadens

the specific situation of a segment of dialogue:

 

17Shahir D. N. Gavankar, private interview, Bombay, March 4,
1971.

166

we

The times are pretty bad now.

The people are bleeding dry.

The black market's spreading wide.

Not a handful of grain anywhere.

It's the same in every village.

Where we're eating leaves and grass.

Price controls on paper only.

And, oh, what a chaotic mess!

It must be unique in all the world,

For the government to spite the poor.

The script is full of revelations and social truths, such as:
”Behind Bandya is the moneylender, and behind the moneylender is the
government." But there is a positive and purposeful answer which is
developed by Gavankar, as Balu rallies his fellow farmers and sings:

There were leaders of the farmers' association.

I'll get them all to come.

The red flag flies for the poor,

And they're bound to come and help.

Through unified action by the poor landless peasants, the
plans of Bandya, the accountant, are frustrated, and the hoarded
stock of grain is distributed to all the needy on an equal basis at
the true fixed prices. “Long live farmers' unity!” is the closing
cry of all the victorious farmers.

This first production by the Red Flag Cultural Squad was
originally performed in an open-air setting of a Bombay working-
class district. It was greeted with warm response that cheered the
artists and paved the way for still greater successes, notably the
folk dramas of Sathe and the songs of Shaikh. There was also a
Tamasha by the social reformer Sane Guruji which tried to rally

audiences against untouchability. The Cultural Squad was, according

to my informants, the most exciting theatrical phenomenon of the

 

167

19405. As the fame of these artists spread, the size of the audiences
grew remarkably, and it was not uncommon for 30,000 to 100,000 people
to turn up for an outdoor performance.18 Gavankar describes the
enthusiastic spirit which moved the troupe:

We normally travelled in a group of ten or eleven, one or

two of whom would be women dancers. Throughout our tour, we
avoided the traditional romantic aspects of Tamashas, and we
emphasized good humor, strong satire, healthy caricature, and
genuine folk music. Because of our artistic integrity, we
were rarely criticized for poor taste and lewdness at a time
when Tamasha was peerywhere being snubbed by intellectuals and
the middle-class.

Sathe acted in the productions of the Cultural Squad and he
was very popular as the songadya. According to Gavankar, the tradi-
tional role of the songadya was stylized and reformed so that it
became increasingly sophisticated and purposeful without losing the
all-important sense of spontaneity. The actors were apparently all
familiar enough with each other to be flexible and adaptable to
change in dialogue depending upon local conditions of production.

Gavankar continued to direct the work of the group until
Shaikh's departure in 1953, after which Gavankar and Sathe regrouped
their energies and formed their own kala pathak on a part-time basis.
This arrangement continued to 1966, but a revival of the group was

effected on behalf of the Communist Party during the 1967 national

election. Gavankar, thereupon, retired from active production and

performance.

 

18Vasant Bapat, Vinayak Bhave, and Vijay Tendulkar vividly
rwecall these performances of the 19405.

19Shahir D. N. Gavankar, lee, ele.

168

Annabhau Sathe

 

Annabhau Sathe (1920-1969) was born into a poverty-stricken
Mang family in the village of Vatagao. He quickly gained an intimate
understanding of a wide range of Maharashtrian folk forms which

included bhajans, gondhals, povadas, and kolhati and waghya-murali

 

 

dances, as well as kirtans, vasudevs, and the more commonly known

 

Tamasha elements. As a young man, he moved to Bombay where he found
employment tending the dogs of a wealthy man.

Later, he found work in a textile mill where, during a labor
strike, he came into contact with the teachings of the Communist
Party. His cultural development owes much to his grandfather who
was a well-known Tamasha performer and poet. Sathe imbibed both
cultural and modern political traditions, and he is reputed to have
given beautiful expression to the mixture in his own scripts and
performances.

Sathe's innovative eeee_and leeeel_songs are credited with
shaping Tamasha into a more sophisticated vehicle——loknatya, or
people's theatre. This was people's theatre in the active sense;
that is, in the sense of seeking out audience involvement and
response in the realm of social and political ideas. Here, in the
opening song of one of his loknatyas, we can savor the directness
of his approach:

They make black market money,
And are more interested in the interest.

They make their plans for selfish motives,
That cut the throats of peasants.

169
I'm speaking about a story in that village,
Listen carefully. . . .
In fashioning a tool so direct and forceful, Sathe followed

Gavankar's model, Bandya the Accountant. He retained the sensual

 

appeal of the traditional Tamashas, and refitted the question-and-

answer form of riddle singing (sawal—jabab) to accept ideological

 

material. A good illustration of his use of the sawal-jabab is

 

taken from the 1948 vag Majhi Mumbai (”My Bombay”), at a point where
21

 

a moneylender questions a worker:

MONEYLENDER

 

This Bombay has so many languages and castes. How can you
call it yours?

WORKER

 

Like the eagle has wings and the lion has claws.
Or, to quote another example from the same work:

MONEYLENDER

 

We are the moneylenders. Do you think I can find more money
here in Bombay?

WORKER

 

Why does the heron wait in the water?

These examples represent a forceful juxtaposition of images
reminiscent of the severely disciplined Japanese Déi£E_P09m5: with
their great economy of imagery. But Durga Bhagvat assures us that

the riddle form in Marathi tradition does have the same disciplined

 

20Quoted by Shahir Atmaram Patil in Yueantar, Vol. 16, No. 21-
22 (November, 1969), p. 15.

2'Quoted by Shahir D. N. Gavankar in ”The Shahir Who Revolu-
tionized Tamasha,” ugantar, Vol. 16, No. 21-22 (November, 1969),
p. 63. ’

170

quality. She quotes a modern example of a riddle: What can't see
its own body? The answer is: the eye.22

Sathe's ingenious use of the question-and-answer form was
designed to arrive dialectically at social truths, giving shape to
the class struggles of peasants and workers against the rich.

Technically, Sathe used the stock songadya character to
deliver the challenges to the audience and to engage their active
participation. His eeee_almost always relied on few characters,
simple story-lines, good poetry and songs, up-to-date dialogue, and
fine jokes.23

Sathe wrote many novels and more than fifteen Tamasha
scripts in the revolutionary struggle for the minds of peasants and

urban workers. One of his most popular vags was the 1944 work,

Aklechi Goshta (“A Tale of Wisdom”), which ran for more than a

 

thousand performances and which was seen by more than a million
Maharashtrians. It is possibly the most popular Marathi folk drama

of all time.

24

Aklechi Goshta begins with a lavani song, which sets out

 

the social problem: in a small village there were two friends--a
milkman and a moneylender--who dealt in the black market and in high-
interest rates, forcing farmers to suffer. A poor villager dares to

rise against the moneylender and sides are chosen. A battle of wits

 

22Durga Bhagvat, The Riddle in Indian Life, Lore and Liter-
aature (Bombay: Popular Prakashan, 1965), p. 105.

23Shahir D. N. Gavankar, ”The Shahir Who Revolutionized
Tamasha," ep. c_i_t_., p. 63.

24The opening song was contributed by Shahir Gavankar.

171

ensues. Each is to tell stories before appointed judges. The
stories are recited in stirring songs, including pemeee_ballads.
The peasant leader wins and the moneylender is forced to leave the
village.

The play concludes with a call for class solidarity. The
moneylender is angered because he believes the winning peasant has
been influenced by group meetings with fellow landless peasant
farmers. The wedge between rich and poor is driven further by the
peasant who replies bitterly:

There are lots of dogs like you, Gundu, who barked and
faded away. Even the all-powerful Hitler didn't succeed,

and by comparison, you're practically nothing.

In script form, Aklechi Goshta covers a scant dozen pages;

 

but in performance it often ran more than two hours, indicating the
extent of improvisation infused into the production.

Sathe wrote his scripts with the idea of audience involvement
in mind. It was not enough, apparently, to preach social and politi-
cal ideas; the audiences should be expected to participate in the
performances. This view dominated much of Sathe's work, and indeed
the entire aesthetic framework of the dynamic Red Flag Cultural Squad.
To illustrate, reference is made to Sathe's Shetjiche Election
("The Election of a Merchant"). The story-line is simple. It is
the eve of an election and a wealthy merchant is standing as a
candidate opposed only by a simple and poverty-stricken peasant.

'The audience is treated as if it were a crowd gathered to listen to
the campaign speeches. The underdog peasant makes the most appealing

'hnpression, winning the crowd's admiration. At the close of the play,

172

all the actors on stage yell out the line "Who do we vote for?” All
reply: "For the peasant!" In actual production, audiences were
sufficiently moved to shout out the last line in chorus. This kind
of involvement proved the most effective form of propaganda the Com-
munists were able to devise in Maharashtra.25
Sathe's sense of drama never left him; not even in his songs,

particularly his povadas. One of these povadas was composed during

a Pakistani-Indian confrontation. It is Punjab, Delhi Cha Danga (”On

 

the Punjab-Delhi Troubles"). It was first produced by the Red Flag
Cultural Squad. The opening lines suggest its tone of intense
patriotism--a virtue of shahiri compositions through history:

Grouped against Delhi.

Moving toward the city.

It was the final hours,

And the enemy's swords were sharp,
Aimed at Nehru's government.

Many Indian soldiers were killed.
Totals will never be known,

But all won their fame,

And patriots were glad

To die for the country.

They were determined to save Delhi. . . .26

Shahir Amar Shaikh

 

Shahir Amar Shaikh (1916-1969) came from a poor Muslim family.

With little education behind him he moved to Bombay as a young man to

250. N. Gavankar, private interview, Bombay, March 4, 1971.

26Annabhau Sathe, Punjab, Delhi Cha Danga ("oh the Punjab-Delhi
TYTNJbleS") (Bombay: Lok Prakashan Griha, n.d.), p. l.

 

173

take up work as an automobile repair mechanic. In the 19305, he lost
his job as a result of anti-British activities and moved to Kolhapur,
where he teamed up with a group of artists. It was here that he met
Gavankar and Sathe--a meeting which was to culminate years later in
the creation of the remarkable team of artistic propagandists.
In his lifetime, he published volumes of poems, songs, a
drama, three povadas, and he also acted in film; but he is best
remembered for live renditions of his own songs. Shahir Gavankar
provides this moving description of a Shaikh performance which took
place in January, 1944:
It's midnight. Near Titwala, a village close to Bombay,
at an open—air performance. Thousands of villagers are
gathered, women and children among them. Nobody moves.
Everybody's attention is centered on a platform. Standing
on it is a tall, thin, dark man, who sings:

'The flame of hunger is lit in our stomachs,

And we ask only for something to eat.

You are the ones who brought pain to our hearts.

How strange you cannot hear our cries.

We are the ones who grow grain for your food,

Yet our children are the ones who are starving to death.

These were the words, with no musical accompaniment. Only

a voice, with notes coming straight from a heart to reach the
hearts of the gathered thousands. The young man finishes his
song and wipes the tears from his cheeks. So do the spectators.
Tears of joy. Their sorrows have been expressed. These are
tears of release.

According to Dina Pathak, a dancer with IPTA-sponsored
musical entertainments in the 19405, Amar was the inspiration of
the troupe: “Nobody could hold back his voice." He apparently

upstaged his fellow artists who soon found themselves playing

 

27Shahir D. N. Gavankar, ”Immortal Amor," ugantar, Vol. 16,
lVos. 21-22 (November, 1969), pp. 65-67, 80.

174

chorus to him. "But we forgave him, because he inspired the people
and the people inspired him." 28

Shaikh was the hero of industrial workers and peasants.
Through his art, he gained the love and respect of Maharashtrians.
He was, according to one account, "like a radio to the people . . .
maybe television . . . a new vision and an inspiration."29

Composing songs as he travelled through Maharashtra, Shaikh
would transform the current problems of the urban working man or
rural landless peasant into forceful, compelling, and simple poetic
forms, as we may see in his song, Call of the Workers. This song
looks at the problems of class struggle and economic hardships from
the different points of view of the labourer, the unemployed worker,
the bedridden worker, the female worker, and the aged worker. The
female worker worked at home and then in a factory, and she managed
to scrape by until fate interfered and she bore a child. Soon there
was no money for milk.

The stanza devoted to the old worker is even more bitter
and ironic:

I spent my life telling truth.

My bones turned to ashes,

But the safe of the boss

Smiled at me.

My life became weary,

And I left, breaking my bonds.
Now, I can no longer work.

 

28Dina Pathak, private interview, Bombay, February 3, 1971.
bhcs. Pathak says that Shaikh first started out with IPTA in musical
en1tertainments which toured the countryside in support of radical
cuauses. Shaikh was recruited for Shahir Gavankar's Red Falg Cultural
Sanad when new plays were made ready for touring.

29Sumant, Uncha Taan Uncha Matha ("High Note For A Head Held
liigrrfl (Bombay: Abhinav Prakashan, 1959), p. 90.

 

175

In a final stanza, all the workers unite in a hopeful cry for
mastery over economic injustice:
Look! There comes
The Red Flag Association
With the stave of unity in hand.
They tell us we should teach a lesson
To all the thieves.
But we must go forward
On the road to unity,
Even if there be bloodshed among us.
Let's take up the red flag,
And do away with poverty,
And our misery.

But times changed and the Communist front split into dis-
affected fragments after Independence was achieved in 1947. Shaikh,
for one, abandoned the official party line and formed his own
travelling Tamasha troupe in 1953 to work for new issues such as
linguistic rights for Maharashtrians, the liberation of Goa, and
social improvement among the peasants, particularly in the field of
education. In 1962, during the Sino—Indian conflict, Shaikh resigned
his membership in the Communist Party but retained his association
with the ideological base of Communism. He was now free to support
projects of his choice, and he proceeded to collect large sums of
money for charities, including some 300,000 rupees ($40,000) for
rural school—building programs.31 He also supported revolutionary

causes in India and Pakistan. Left-over profits were shared equally

among the members of his troupe.

 

3OShahir Amar Shaikh, Amargeet Amar (”Amar's Immortal Songs”)
(Bombay: Abhinav Publishers, 1951).

31

 

Mrs. Amar Shaikh, private interview, Bombay, November, 1970.

176

Shaikh's troupe, Nav Maharashtra Kala Pathak, was active

 

throughout the villages, towns, and cities in the State from 1953 until
his untimely death in August, 1969, when his own bus overturned and
crashed. His death was received as a blow to many Maharashtrians,
especially since it came so soon after Annabhau Sathe's demise just
two months previously. Two years later, in March, 1971, the third
member of the original team of Communist artists--Shahir Gavankar--
died of illness, bringing to a close an important era in the history
of hard-line Tamasha propaganda.

As if to underscore this observation, I learned from Amar

Shaikh's widow that the Nav Maharashtra Kala Pathak was revived six

 

months after the Shahir's death under the new title, Amar Shaikh Kala

 

EEEDEK; and that it was pursuing less radical interests. I was later
informed that the troupe had been engaged by the New Congress Party
to work for the 1971 re-election of Mrs. Gandhi. The Communist
ideological strain had by this time lost its vital appeal among those

who had once been its more eloquent proponents.

The Socialists and the Deluge

 

The Communist experiments of the 1940s encouraged other
political groups to overcome lingering disdain for Tamasha among
the middle classes and higher castes and to engage in their own
[oropaganda efforts. The Socialists were the first to follow the
Ccnnmunists in the utilization of Tamasha.

The Socialist use of the form is essentially the story of

orwe dedicated artist and teacher, Vasant Bapat, who developed his

177

political sense during the anti-British movement. (He was jailed in
1943 on conspiracy charges.) In 1947, he formed a Tamasha troupe to
help sew more seeds of agitation as the date of Independence was
drawing near.

In 1948 Bapat moved to Bombay to establish a kala pathak, or

 

cultural squad, with the Socialist youth organization, Rashtra Seva

 

eel_(R,§,e,) which had recently created a cultural wing. For years,
R,§,Q, produced songs, dances and eeee, some of which were his own
compositions. The productions carried none of the political fervor
of the Communist Tamashas, but they did help to refine the form--
cutting down on the traditional bawdy humor and removing lingering
social stigmas associated with Tamasha artists.32
Bapat produced four of his own Socialist-oriented Tamashas,

two by Vyankatesh Madgulkar, Shankar Patil's Galli to Delhi, a play

 

depicting cheating and treachery from village to national levels, and
many other works. The most noteworthy production, however, was the

popular veg, Wanted A Leader, written by the humorist and playwright

 

P. L. Deshpande. The work was an attack on government excesses and
social injustice. It opened its run in the late 19505 and continued
for a total of some 1,000 performances.33

Deshpande attributes the strength of the production to the
fact that it was loosely formed and adaptable to changing social and

political realities. This formula was later adopted in many

 

32Vinayak Bhave, private interview, Bombay, December 14, 1970.

33Vasant Bapat, private interview, Bombay, November, 1970.

178

"SOphisticated” Tamasha works, including the most recent success by

Vasant Sabnis (Fulfil My Desire),

 

Both Bapat and Deshpande are today a little less enthusiastic
about continued use of Tamasha for propaganda. In Bapat's view, the
public wouldn't stand for too much propaganda mixed into its favorite
entertainment form. "The form does have its limitation," he told me.
"The fun is killed with too much dialectical discussion."34 Deshpande,
for his part, claims that

. in spite of all the possibilities that a writer can find

in the form, it remains essentially a vehicle of entertainment.
But I am still fond of it. . . .35

If he were to write a new play in Tamasha form, Deshpande
would now do away with some of the traditional elements--the gee_and
the eeeleef-but at the same time, he would build upon the eee_form
which he believes ”retains all the possibilities of what you in the
West call Total Theatre.“ He enumerated these possibilities: (1)
audience participation; (2) an uninhibited atmosphere in which
improvised dialogue flourishes, encouraging communication between
actors and spectators; (3) a free form, permitting actors to alter
production content in accordance with changing moods among the
audiences; (4) flexibility as to acting approaches; and (5) utilization
36

of music, song, and dance as powerful sensory aids to communication.

Bapat's R,§,e, Kala Pathak is still active today, but it has

 

given up presentation of Tamasha vags in favor of pageants of lively

34Vasant Bapat, lee, cit.

35P. L. Deshpande, lee, ele,
36Idem.

 

179

folk songs and dances. Bapat believes there is nothing further he

can contribute using geee_for the Socialist cause now that the task

of refining Tamasha has been completed. But his political aim is still
the same: to raise the level of social and political consciousness
among the people, and to create a modern society not bound by divisions
of religion, caste, or creed.

The Socialists' cautious entry into the live entertainment
field proved to the more conservative ruling Congress Party that
Tamasha was a safe and valid medium to be exploited as another vehicle
of communication. By 1948, Congress used public funds to create

several kala pathaks called Sarvoday, or Emancipation For All. The

 

noted Marathi dramatist, B. V. Warerkar, organized the project for
Congress and he also wrote a number of Tamasha scripts for the
performing troupes. The party, however, couldn't manage to make
effective use of the theatre from and it limited further support to
hiring troupes for propaganda at election time. This approach was
subsequently adopted by most other opposition parties, and it became
common strategy to field Tamasha troupes as part of election campaign
communication programs. Further discussion of the political use of
the theatre form may be found in Chapter VII of this study.

From political usage, the accent soon shifted to social usage
as Maharashtra became involved in a vast modernization program
initiated by the State and national governments. The themes of
freedom, national unity, and revolution faded from stages as songs
and dialogues of paid Tamasha troupes began to promote family planning,

snwfll savings, agricultural improvement, prohibition, and other

180

projects of government five-year plans. The story of State Government
use of the form is the subject of the chapter which follows.

Beyond institutional use of Tamasha, there are continuing
modern propaganda experiments of purely individual expression. We
have already mentioned the works of Sable, Sabnis, and Tendulkar in
this connection. Sable, we recall, occupies the most interesting
position with regard to propagandistic use of Tamasha because he is
still committed to improvement of society and because he has not given
in to the temptation of selling his talents to an institution or a
political party. His political and social satires are, consequently,
attractions to audiences representing both the left and centre of
society.

Other non-aligned writers with “messages" for the people have
been moved to experiment. Aside from Sabnis and Tendulkar, there are
growing numbers of playwrights who are intrigued with the flexibility

of the Tamasha form. Shankar Patil's Katha Akalechya Kandyachi ("A

 

Tale of the Onion of Intelligence"), for example, was a polished
satirical attack (in the mid 1960s) upon the opportunism of political
leadership within the ruling Congress Party. The story follows an

old Maharashtrian proverb which says that if a man is a fool he

hasn't a brain but an onion which peels away into nothingness. Patil's
meg_played to large audiences in cities and villages. A shortened

English-language adaptation of the script is appended to this study.

CHAPTER VI
USE OF TAMASHA IN STATE GOVERNMENT

INFORMATION CAMPAIGNS

The purpose of this chapter is to examine the State Govern-
ment's utilization of the Tamasha folk theatre form in information

campaigns supporting development programs.

Development Programs

 

Central and state governments actively promote productions
by folk artists in remote villages of India in support of a wide
range of social and economic development programs including the well-
known Five-Year Plans—-"small savings," “agricultural development,“
“national integration," "family planning,” and "prohibition.” In
Maharashtra, the Delhi-sponsored Marathi-language section provides
occasional propaganda theatre performances; but it is really the
Government of Maharashtra itself which is deeply engaged in this work.

In Bombay, the State Directorate of Publicity is charged
with directing Maharashtra's development support communication

campaign. Tamasha entertainments form part of the campaign.

Three Categories of State-Supported Troupes
According to the Deputy Director of Publicity for the State
of Maharashtra (Mr. Kanetkar), a vigorous program of Tamasha-type

performances was being pursued using three kinds of performing

181

182

troupes: (1) ”A" troupes of professional stature, (2) "B” troupes
of professional and semi-professional stature, at regional level,
and (3) non-professional troupes at district level.1

The ”A" troupes are engaged on a monthly basis to perform in
villages throughout the State. Some of the troupes are sufficiently
well endowed to be able to afford their own transport. Contractual
arrangements call for the incorporation of at least two or three
current development themes in an agreeable mixture of messages and
pure entertainment. A performance in one village might include a
few leeeel_songs and some dramatic segments dealing with the advantages
of small families and with abstinence from alcohol. Another night,
in another village, the focus may dwell upon growing more food and
the promotion of personal savings.2

“A” troupes may be contracted to do about thirty productions
a year, largely in villages with populations of from 2,000 to 3,000.
A handful of the best troupes may do as many as twenty shows a month
during the good season, or about 160 a year. Top rates for a good
troupe are about 400 eepeee ($53.20) per show. Average attendance
is estimated at 1,500 to 2,000 people. Among the better-known
Tamasha groups in the ”A” category are ”Appasaheb“ Inamdar's group,

Bal Ingle's eek_Ranjan (or People's Entertainment Troupe), and Shahir

Liladhar Hegde's troupe.

 

1Private interview, Bombay, February 24, 1971. Mr. Kanetkar
is personally responsible for State Government exhibitions and live
performances related to Government programs.

2See section dealing with the Appasaheb Inamdar troupe, this
chapter, infra.

183

The “B" troupes, with both professional and semi-professional
artists, are recruited regionally from the six major sub-divisions of
Maharashtra. Artists reside and perform in their own regions. The
schedule is less rigorous than that for "A” troupes.

The third category (”C” units) represents performers who are
not up to professional standards, but who reside locally in their own
communities. They are recruited at the district level. (Each region
has four districts.) There are twenty-six district—level troupes in
all, each numbering seven or eight performers.

The performing art units in all three categories are called

 

kala pathaks, or cultural squads, and these are divided by the

Government into Main Kala Pathaks and Sahiri Kala Pathaks. A Main

 

 

Kala Pathak troupe is a dholki-baari which entertains through song,

 

 

dramatic dialogue, mime, and dance. The Shahiri Kala Pathaks, or

 

poetry cultural squads, are one—man and two—man shows featuring
musical recitations of poems based on the Government themes mentioned

above. Povadas, kirtans and bhajans--all traditional song forms-—are

 

performed in this way. Bhajans and kirtans are used because they are
derived from devotional traditions and because the new messages they
carry are more likely to be favorably received. Women, for example,
might not welcome views on family planning if conveyed through newer,
secular forms of entertainment.3

The Directorate employes forty entertainment troupes of all

categories, and it is estimated that together they cover more than 400

 

3Mr. Kanetkar, lee, ele,

184

villages in each twelve-month period, with a combined audience of
approximately a million villagers.

The Publicity Department is trying to increase this coverage.
The task is enormous when one considers that the total number of
villages in Maharashtra is 38,000. When I left India in the summer
of 1971, new budgetary demands were being made for a significant
increase in the number of entertainment units, from forty to 200,
permitting wider distribution of troupes throughout the State and
helping to spread word of the Government's programs.

Effectiveness of the State-Supported
Kala Pathaks

 

 

Measurement of the effect of these live entertainment programs
upon the population could not be obtained from any official source,

4 and in

but rapid increases in acceptors of family planning methods
totals of personal small savings provided officials with some indi-
cations of their value, especially in the context of the combined use
of mass media and traditional folk media programs. The Deputy Director
of Publicity told me the State Government was convinced that theatre

is an effective way of reaching the minds of peasants in remote

villages, and that the kala pathak tours are important for this

 

purpose. The overall publicity program, which is responsible for
the Government successes includes, besides folk theatre productions,
the recognized communication approaches--radio, newspapers, posters,

Government change agents, films and, more recently, television.

 

4See section on Family Planning, this chapter, infra.

185

Although there were no measurements of kala pathak effective-

 

ness, some rule-of-thumb methods were being employed by the Government.
A control of sorts is maintained by Government rural officers in the
field who must sign the payment certificates for troupes immediately
after each performance. The certificate declares that a performance
of the required duration has been completed at the date and place
agreed upon.

Additionally, district public relations officers are required
to do spot checks on performances to determine whether a troupe is
keeping up to good production standards. The spot check will also
note attendance, coverage of Government themes, and overall public

reaction. The rule of thumb for good standard of a kala pathak

 

program is acceptance of a "sixty to seventy per cent positive
reaction" among the total number of spectators at a given performance.
In all the years of this ongoing program (since 1958), the figure has
never dropped below sixty per cent, according to field officer reports.
Mr. Kanetkar believes his field reports provide sufficient

indications of the value of the kala pathak program. ”We also know

 

from experience,” he adds,

that when we send Government agents to make speeches, most of
the villagers walk out long before the end. But with enter-
tainment offered in the known folk forms, the story is quite
different. In fact, we haven't had any adverse reports from
our observers in the field since we started our program
officially in 1958.5

Although it is satisfied with its sixty to seventy per cent

rating, the Government continues efforts to improve and update the

 

5The troupe, run by V. L. "Appasaheb” Inamdar, was engaged
for this work as early as 1954.

186

quality and content of presentations. From time to time, Kanetkar
issues new instructions to the troupes he has engaged, sending the
latest information on family planning, small savings, agricultural
development, and other programs. The artists are expected to in-
corporate some of the new material as they move. Trust in the
abilities and talents of the troupes, and feed-back reports by
Government officers, are considered to be sufficient assurances that
the overall program is developing and changing with the times.

Script materials are prepared by the artists themselves. Cost
is a factor in this decision because if the Government had to provide

its own scripts it would be obliged to pay higher fees to the troupes.

The Family Planning Story

 

In 1957, one year before the creation of the State of
Maharashtra, Bombay State entered the national family planning
program. Stress was placed upon educational programs and direct
involvement of the people. Mass communication projects were devised
to support these efforts, based on the premise that adoption of
family planning practice was a matter of changing the prevailing
attitudes. As an adjunct to the mass communication program
person-to-person or live approach was promoted to reach people at
village level, where literacy rates were low6 and where the existing

mass media could not penetrate sufficiently.

6According to the 1961 census (a 1971 census was being taken
during the research period), the literacy rate for Maharashtra was 9.8
per cent (38.5 according to the later tabulation of the 1971 census) as
against 24.0 (29.0 in 1971) per cent for the entire country. Total
population for Maharashtra was 39,554,000 (fifty million in 1971), or
nine per cent of the total population of India. Seventy-one point

187

The strategy for Maharashtra's attempt to control its popu-
lation growth rate follows an accepted communications model which is
designed to move people from a state of ignorance through the ladder
of knowledge, awareness, acceptance, motivation and action.

Program Effectiveness Relative to
Family Planning

 

 

State Government expenditure on family planning from 1957 to
1970 was directly related to the yield or pay-off in the results. In
1957-58, the family planning budget totalled Re, 82,661 ($11,021.46),
the 1961-62 budget was Re. 1,214,923 ($161,989), and in 1969—70 the
figure had dramatically risen to Re, 32,075,940 ($4,276,792). Results
were not very significant in the initial years of the program but by
March, 1961, 41,188 sterilizations had been performed. By the end of
1966, the total had risen to 219,241 sterilizations. A sudden spurt
in the program occurred in 1967-68 when 332,329 sterilizations were
performed in the twelve-month period.7 Other figures might be cited
for increase in the use of contraceptives, oral contraceptives, and
intrauterine insertions, but what is immediately significant is that
the estimated birth-rate for the period 1951 to 1960, which was 41.2,
declined to 38.0 in the 1966-70 period. Moreover, the general growth

rate for the period 1961-65, which was 2.55 per cent, declined to

 

seventy-eight per cent of the people in the State lived in rural areas.
These figures appear to justify the State Government's insistence upon
utilization of face-to-face communication projects, including Tamasha
entertainments.

7Recent information noted in the September, 1972, issue of
Reports on Population/Family Planning (Population Council, New York),
p. 84, shows that nearly half a million Maharashtrians had accepted
sterilization during 1971, as compared to 1,934,000 for all of India.

188

2.53 per cent in the period 1966-70. The Government estimated it had
prevented approximately 60,000 births in 1966 while estimates for
births that year totalled approximately 1,733,000. Estimates for
1971 were 1,060,000 births and 360,000 births saved.8

Government sources claim that live theatre presentations,
including Tamashas, were instrumental in achieving the limited success
noted in the enormously complex area of family planning. Early in
1971, V. R. Gadgil, statistician in the Maharashtra Government's
Demographic and Evaluation Cell, accurately predicted that the 1971
census would provide further indication of the impact not only of
the family planning program but most of the Government programs
directed to the public welfare, especially the five-year programs.
He also noted that surveys were in progress in selected villages to
provide more indicators of effectiveness in the use of both mass
media and face-to-face communication efforts. At this writing, one
such survey had already been completed covering six villages. It
showed that the birth rate averaged 36.3, ”a level appreciably lower
than that prevailing in 1961, and 1.7 lower than the rate estimated
for the entire state between 1966-70."9

Other indications of progress in the State family planning
program are the national awards received by Maharashtra for best

performance in 1960, 1963-64, 1964—65 and 1965—66. The indicators

 

8All figures are provided by the Government of Maharashtra,
Ministry for Public Health.

9Family Welfare and Planning, Maharashtra State, 1957-68,
issued by the State Family Planning Bureau, Government of Maharashtra,
February, 1969, p. 30.

 

189

of progress--minuscule in the larger framework of the country's
growing population problems--nevertheless illustrate the validity
of the Government's mixture of mass media and person-to-person
approaches. The mixture includes:
1. Group meetings,
2. Slogans, posters, wall paintings,
3. Cultural programs utilising the performing arts of the
folk tradition, including most of the elements of the
Tamasha form,
4. Family planning literature,
5. Exhibitions,
6. Articles and advertisements in the press,
7. Other mass media, including cinema slides, radio talks,
tape-recorded messages, special press features, match-
box advertisements, and exhibitions in public hospitals,

health centres, and railway stations.

Folk Theatre Inputs in the Program

 

The cultural programs mentioned in (3), above, are of par-
ticular relevance to this study because they essentially recognize
the importance of folk theatre in reaching the illiterate masses in
the densely populated rural areas. In the view of Mr. Gadgil, "Folk
theatre presentations do have a great impact in these areas and they
complement all other efforts in our family planning program.“

The theatre elements used for family planning propaganda

include non-Tamasha dramatic presentations; kala pathak variety

 

190

programs utilizing the entire range of Tamasha forms; loknatya, or

dramatic Tamasha presentations; kirtans; bhajans; povadas, and other

 

forms. Mr. Gadgil supplied performance figures which were available

for the years 1967-68 and 1968-69. They are presented in the table

 

 

 

 

 

 

below:

Number of Performances

Types of Entertainment

1967-68 1968-69
Dramatic Programs (non-Tamasha) 92 9O
Kala pathaks 133 491
Loknatya 22 158
Kirtans Performed Alone 104 422
Bhajans Performed Alone 25 523
Povadas Performed Alone 32 186
Others 25 97

 

The figures show conclusively the increased use of folk
elements in Tamasha tradition, as against a new reduction in use of
non-Tamasha, modern dramatic programs. More recent information,
supplied to me in private correspondence to mid-1972, indicates a

continuing trend in this direction.

191

Case Study: An ”A“ Category Troupe

 

The Directorate of Publicity gives top rating to one of the
“A“ category groups it supports for publicizing the Government's
programms-—the professional troupe of V. L. "Appasaheb" Inamdar.
Inamdar's qualifications are impressive: he has a doctorate degree
in music and a life-time background of social work in the villages
of Maharashtra in support of modernization and development programs.

I sought out the troupe in Poona and met with two of Inamdar's
sons, G. V. Inamdar and P. V. Inamdar, both members of the performing

'0 I learned the troupe had been engaged in

troupe. In conversations
propaganda work for the Maharashtra Directorate of Publicity since
1954. Performers have come and gone over the years, but a nucleus
of six permanent artists remain as a core group. On tour, the group
recruits additional artists, rounding out the troupe to its full
complement of eighteen, including four female artists. It is the
only full-sized troupe playing the Government circuit.

The troupe maintains two levels of operation, enabling
performers to keep their sense of perspective as artists first and

propagandists second. For Government productions, the troupe calls

itself the Kala Sangam Poona; but as independent artists, the group

 

also operate a thoroughly commercial kala pathak.

 

For its Government work, the Kala Sangam group earns about

 

300 to 400 rupees ($40.00 to $53.33) per performance. In 1970, it

was contracted for just over 100 programs in villages throughout the

 

'OG. V. and P. V. Inamdar, private interview, Poona, January,
1971.

192

State, for a gross income of more than 30,000 eepeee_($4,000). Yet
in a single evening's commercial production in the city, Inamdar's
kala pathak may earn as much as 2,000 eepeee_($266.66). However
modest an amount the propaganda work pays, it still provides a measure
of security in a profession which knows of very little security.

By 1971, after seventeen years of Government-sponsored work,

Inamdar's Kala Sangam Poona boasted of some 2,000 performances; while

 

his commercial kala pathak troupe, begun only after 1965, had produced

 

a total of more than 800 performances.
Government propaganda work pays only one-way travel expenses,

but Kala Sangam Poona is in the enviable economic position of running

 

its own bus. The vehicle is large enough to carry a full complement
of performers, along with costumes, musical instruments, props,
portable scenery, drops, and lighting equipment.

Playing dates are arranged in remote villages where there is
little direct contact with the mass media and where few people read
newspapers even if they may be sufficiently literate. Performances
are free. Since villages on Government-sponsored Tamasha tour
itineraries are seldom visited by the better-known commercial Tamasha
troupes (which stand to lose money on such ventures), the potential
impact of a propaganda Tamasha troupe is very strong. Whether or

not the potential has been realized, the Kala Sangam Poona has already

 

brought its development support messages to some two and a half

million people.H

 

HMr. Kanetkar, 1223.915.

193

Format of a Kala Sangam
Poona Production

 

Over the years, Inamdar has developed a swiftly-moving
production format lasting roughly three hours. It is not, in the

strictest sense, a typical dholki-baari Tamasha entertainment, with

 

its gee, geelee, songs and dances, and yee_in the proper order; but
it does make use of Tamasha's vital theatrical conventions, and its
”messages” are woven through the whole in witty displays of dialogue
and in some of the songs.

For a more concrete impression of Inamdar's approach, we will

select highlights of an old Kala Sangam Poona script (which is included

 

in its entirety in Appendix "B'I of this study). From a study of this
script, we may note that Inamdar bowed to convention and tradition in
his presentation of eee and gaulan segments. However, an inspirational

and patriotic song--a Maharashtra Geet--was superimposed upon the

 

production and placed just before the gee, The emotional appeal of

the Maharashtra Geet is evident in the lines of the closing stanza:

 

Let the song of the Marathas be heard.
Let its spirit be expressed in words.
Let its faith dwell in the heart.

And, if the time comes,

Let us sacrifice life.

The gee_which follows, is also designed to secure the interest
of the people:
. Inspire the uneducated and entertain the people.
Weave garlands of our words
So they will strike the right meanings.

Inamdar's gaulan deals with the traditional play of Krishna and

Pendya and the gaulans and the Auntie (Mavshi), but its aim is to

194

incorporate subtle messages about one or more of the Government's
propaganda themes, possibly support for family planning, or for the
armed forces, or simply for the elimination of social injustices:

THIRD GAULAN

 

Mavshi, you've been selling butter for many years now and
you still don't understand that there's a great demand for
butter in this country. We need enough to butter up the
people so that work will get done.

MAVSHI

 

True True. That's how it is. Go to a district. . . . Or
a village. . . . Or a government hospital.

THIRD GAULAN

 

Hospital? Why? .

MAVSHI

 

. Just butter up the people there and you get proper

medicines. Otherwise you're forgotten. Butter, my dear,

is nothing less than a bribe. And that just isn't right.

You shouldn't be too generous with your butter. You just

decide right now that you'll do the right thing and there'll

be no question about bribes.

The message, as may be observed, is woven into the traditional
fabric of the gaulan. It appears not to betray the familiar form.

A song or two follows the gaulan and intermission ends the
first half of the show.

Inamdar's real experimentation with the folk theatre format

becomes apparent in the second half of the program, called Maharashtra

 

Darshan, or ”Glimpses of Marathi Folk Arts.“ Inamdar has selected a
variety format based on a combination of resuscitated forms of folk
music, dance, and dramatic playlets. In later scripts, Inamdar built
his works with two or three folk forms out of a fund of elements

which included:

10.

11.

195

le_songs, traditionally sung by women, on the joys and
troubles of domestic life.

Bhupal', an early morning song of worship praising Lord
Krishna.

Vasudev, songs and dialogues of the entertainer-preacher
Vasudev, who is made to symbolize the old order that must

change in the face of new social conditions.

Bhajan, a form of community singing that developed from

the abhanga devotional songs of the poet-saints of

Maharashtra.

Bharud, as we noted in Chapter II, is an early dramatic

form used by the poet-saints from the fifteenth to the
seventeenth centuries for religious propaganda among the
peasants. It is essentially narration in verse--spiritual
truths clothed in witty lines.

Warkari Dindi, circular group dancing made popular by

 

the Meleeeey_saints of Maharashtra for processions at
holy places.

eeyeel_songs.

Gondhal, a form of traditional drama using devotional
song recitations and narrations from mythology.

Konkan Geet (songs) and dance, originating in the coastal

 

Konkan region, and including lore of the fishermen.

Waghya-Murali dances and music from the children who

 

dedicated themselves to the god Khandoba. Waghyas are
males; Muralis are the females.

yflfl; the formal component of most dramatic Tamashas.

196

The sample Kala Sangam script appended to this study makes use

 

of the vasudev, waghya-murali and y_e, following the gaulan segment.

 

The Vasudev begins strongly: Vasudev is depicted as a
reactionary old man who is out of step with the development needs
of his country. The village peell_quickly and successfully challenges
these "counter-productive” views, as this exchange of dialogue relative
to family planning shows:
VASUDEV

(Blessing Patil's Daughter-In—Law) May you be blessed with
eight children.

BELLE

What's that? This is a curse, not a blessing.
VASUDEV

No curse, but a blessing.

PATIL

—.——-—.

A curse, I tell you! Why don't you bless her with the children
she desires? Eight is surely a curse.

VASUDEV

Ahah! Very well. (To D-I-L)
As many as you desire.

PATIL

No! No! Don't say, ”As many as you desire.” You should
say, “Two are enough, and a third if you really must have
more.”

Or, in another moment of confrontation on the theme of small

savings, Vasudev begins as a man of little modern savoir-faire:

 

VASUDEV

Last year it went well. I worked three months and I saved
two-hundred rupees. But it was stolen.

197

PATIL

But there's a better way. You can safely save your money
at any post office.

VASUDEV
Why put it in the post office? I'll never get it back.
RAUL
Of course you will. . . . In fact, you get a government-
stamped receipt, and if you save your money for five years,
you even get some added interest.
VASUDEV
That sounds good.
The family planning theme is exploited again in the meeeye;
meeell section which follows the vasudev. Waghya and the village

patil are deep in discussion:
PATIL

 

This is why our country's in such a mess. Children! That's
the only business that grows.

WAGHYA
But isn't the government asking us to grow more?

PATIL
Not in this field. They're talking about more food. And
we've got enough mouths to feed as it is. As it is, sixty-
four thousand new children are being born every minute in
India.

mew
Nothing wrong with that. Some of them must be dying at birth.
amt
Some. About twenty-eight thousand of them die every day.
That still leaves thirty-six thousand who survive and go

on eating and growing. So, today is thirty-six thousand,
and tomorrow is also thirty-six thousand, and. .

198

WAGHYA
Stop! Stop! Enough!
PATIL

 

At this rate, we soon won't have any place to live and
nothing to eat. Why don't you go and see a doctor? Nine
children indeed!

WAGHYA

 

I'm scared of doctors.
PATIL
Then send your wife.

The yee_closing the production is called Talathi and the

 

Social Worker, and it is graced with songs and more dialogue on

 

village perceptions of the population problem in India. The closing
song in the show is worth quoting here because it represents the
high-point of Inamdar's message to his village audiences:

Listen to my story, remember it well,

Unemployment and poverty are everywhere.

We have come upon bad times.

The land, once golden, has turned to mud.

Do you see how bad the times are?

Do you want to make them right?

We'll have a better future,

If you think of family planning. . . .

Tonight!

As we have seen, care is taken to make the new themes appear
to fit naturally and almost organically with the older folk forms.
Traditional rhythms and melodies are retained.

Scripts are sometimes prepared by "Appasaheb” Inamdar himself.
Other writers include the better-known sophisticated Tamasha shahirs,

such as Vasant Sabnis, Divekar Guruji, and the brothers G. D. and

Vyankatesh Madgulkar. These writers are all vitally concerned with

199

the Tamasha form and with the problems of writing popular material for
the masses, and they all regard the State Government propaganda
requirements as a challenge to their creative artistry.

Inamdar is himself most aware of the needs of the villagers
in view of his early career as a rural social worker. He has con-
vinced his Government superiors of the effectiveness of folk theatre
as a means of communicating new ideas about an emerging society. At
fifty-five years of age (in 1971), Inamdar was still very much involved

in his work.

Effectiveness of the Kala Saeeem Poona

 

Inamdar's sons claim there is good public appreciation of the
entertaining elements of their Government-sponsored programs, but
they believe that the propagandistic materials rarely meet with any
great success, or acceptance. But audiences are patient, and they
"bear" with the troupe until the really entertaining moments come

along. In all the years of its propaganda shows, the Kala Sangam

 

has never encountered outward signs of negative reaction. Booing or
other disturbances have never been known to occur, which says a great
deal for the good-will and patience of the people as well as for the
quality of the troupe's artistry. When asked if villagers really do
follow up upon the messages in their performances, Inamdar's elder
son could not go beyond the following statement:

We don't really know. All we can say is that when we do
a good script we entertain people and when we do a so-so script

we bore people. About what effect we have in the villages,
that's something for the Government to say. e

 

12G. V. and P. V. Inamdar, private interview, lee, ele.

200

For its part, the Government of Maharashtra maintains rule-of-
thumb methods of judging audience reaction to the overall program, as
noted earlier in this chapter. After every show, a block development
officer and regional or district publicity officers send audience
reaction reports to the Bombay Directorate of Publicity. Since these
reports continue to reflect a positive reaction, the Government

appears pleased with the work of the Kala Sangam Poona.

 

CHAPTER VII

USE OF TAMASHA IN THE 1971 NATIONAL
ELECTION CAMPAIGN

The purpose of this chapter is to study the use made of
Tamasha in the Maharashtrian campaign for the 1971 national
elections.

The Overall Communication Strategy
for the Campaign

 

We have already mentioned the political use of Tamasha for
election propaganda, but it is interesting to observe the phenomenon
at closer range. I should, therefore, like to report on a specific
campaign-~the mid-term national election which was held in March,
1971. The election, it may be recalled, resulted in a stunning
victory for Prime Minister Indira Gandhi's Ruling Congress Party.

In Maharashtra alone, Ruling Congress won forty-two of the forty-
four seats contested.

At the height of the campaign--in February, 197l--inquiries
were made about the communication strategies adopted by the contending
parties in the State of Maharashtra, but the scope of the investigation

was limited to observations of efforts by Mrs. Gandhi's party,' since

 

1Much of the information in this section, including the propa-
ganda Tamasha materials quoted below, was provided to me in February,
1971, by Dr. V. S. Ranadive, General Secretary, Maharashtra Pradesh

201

202

I was unable to enlist the cooperation of officers of the other
parties.

The campaign was, by every account, a hurried one. The
decision to dissolve the eee_§eeee_(Parliament) before its full term
was taken by Mrs. Gandhi because of the frustration encountered in
running the country on Socialist principles against the obstruction
by "reactionary forces” and "vested interests.“2 Campaign planners
were consequently given little time for preparation.

The contending parties were quick to prepare a good deal of
material for the literate public. All the parties throughout the
country managed to flood available outlets with pamphlets, handouts,
press releases on election issues and party platforms, posters, and
stickers. There were new graphic symbols figuring prominently in all

printed matter. The right-wing Jana Sangh Party used an oil lamp,

 

while the Ruling Congress developed a new symbol of a protective
mother-cow giving suck to her calf (the public). There were other
symbols representing other parties.

For emotional appeals, there were organized demonstrations,
mass rallies, processions, parades, and rousing speeches blared out
live or on tape from loudspeakers mounted on trucks and jeeps. Other
leaders were denounced as well as other symbols. On one occasion I
was present when a Ruling Congress Party candidate, speaking from

the back of a truck, tried to make light of the Jana Sangh by

 

 

Ccnigress Committee, Bombay, just several weeks before his untimely
death. All later inferences on numbers of performances of propaganda
entertainments and on total numbers of possible spectators are mine.

2Indira Gandhi, Why Poll Now? All India Radio broadcast,
Deltfi, December 27, 1970.

 

203

ridiculing their symbol of the lamp: l'Not enough oil for the lamp!”

On another occasion, I saw a Jana Sangh speaker, standing on a Poona

 

streetcorner, strike back at the cow and calf of the Ruling Congress:
”We all know who the calf stands for--it's the Government sucking the
people dry through taxes."

In most respects, the campaign appeared to be much like one
conducted in a Western country, without, of course, the benefit of
the Government-controlled electronic media. Television was in its
infancy; while radio was officially removed from the fray, even
though it was not entirely capable of eliminating its pro-Government
bias. What was truly unique about the Maharashtrian campaign, how— ’
ever, was the special effort expended by all parties to reach the
illiterate rural masses. (In Maharashtra, the rural public constitutes

71.78 per cent of the population.)

The Role of Tamasha in the Campaign

 

The special effort included the use of mobile folk-theatre
troupes to carry party platforms and promises into remote villages
where only familiar forms of presentations could be counted upon.

Altogether, some 200 Tamasha troupes of varying sizes were
employed in the State from January through February. The units were

actually called kala pathaks, or cultural squads, and the average

 

unit contained about nine performers, including singers, dancers,
inusicians and actors. Counting nine artists per troupe, a total of
1,800 performers were engaged in the political campaign. Of this

‘total, the Ruling Congress Party alone supported lOO kala pathaks, or

900 artists.

204

About eighty-five of the Congress-sponsored troupes were
hired by the candidates themselves. Another six troupes were signed
on early in January to work directly for the central Maharashtrian
Congress office in Bombay, and several more were taken on by the
Congress House in Poona.

Each of the six troupes hired by the Bombay office was con-
tracted for 200 performances between January 15 and the polling
period early in March. These six troupes alone accounted for 1,200
performances over six weeks. Because of the decentralized arrangement
which prevailed for the employment of troupes, there are no combined
figures for the total number of performances. Nevertheless, an

extremely modest assumption could be made that 200 kala pathaks

 

could easily have averaged fifty performances, making for a total
of 10,000 separate propaganda entertainments. Even such a modest
assumption would, if true, indicate that a significant effort was
made to reach the rural masses.

By making further assumptions, we can gain some idea of the

size of audiences reached by the kala pathak programs in the election

 

campaign. If there had been an average of 500 persons at each of the
supposed l0,000 propaganda entertainments, then some five million
villagers might have been reached during the campaign. A more
pessimistic estimate might establish the average audience at 100
persons. In this case, the total audience would have been reduced
to a million. '

In either event--whether we use the low or high figures--

the cost-per-unit of fielding 200 kala pathaks is still low. A troupe

 

205

could have earned about 2,000 eepeee_($266) each3 for the campaign
and, multiplied by 200 troupes, the cost would have totalled 400,000
eepeee (about $53,333). If the Congress Party's share for its 100
troupes was 200,000 eepee_, ($26,666), and if its own kala pathak

 

campaign reached half the low-estimate total of spectators (or half
a million people), then the effort would still have been cost-
effective, even if one were to question real effectiveness in terms
of attitude formation and persuasion regarding the final vote at the
polls.

Notwithstanding the assumptions I have been making, it should
be remembered that there are 38,000 villages in the state and that
the total population of Maharashtra is about fifty million people.
What appears, therefore, to be a major undertaking, is at best merely
a token effort to reach the people by one method, among many others.

Some of the flavor of the content in these kala pathak enter-

 

tainments must be sampled to be appreciated. Working for the Ruling
Congress Party were some of the finest talents in the State, including
songwriter-composer G. D. Madgulkar, brother of playwright Vyankatesh
Madgulkar; Shahir Jagdish Khebudkar, artist of fine standing in both
the "raw" and ”sophisticated“ Tamasha traditions; and Shahir Atmaram
Patil, former left—wing radical Tamasha composer—performer, and now
supporter of a more moderate political position.

Since an English translation of Khebudkar's 1971 election

Tamasha, We Must Win This Time, is included in the appendices to

 

 

3A high average.

206

this study, I would like to sample some of the other materials prepared
for Ruling Congress. One of G. D. Madgulkar's songs builds its
through a series of questions:

In whose hands is your India safe?

Who will establish strong rule and give you hope?
Who will wipe out the nation's poverty?

And what if we do achieve economic development--
Will anybody make proper use of it?

And when farmers and workers go on strike--

Does anybody really think of them?

And just who landed us in our current mess?

Well, that party is really powerful,

And their leaders have vested power supporting them.
And you would do well to consider all this,

And make your choice yourself.

 

The song moves forward through rhythms difficult to capture
in English. It is not considered to be a particularly fine piece,
but Party is made to appear the sympathetic underdog pitted against
the goliath of power-hungry, reactionary forces.

Shahir Atmaram Patil's work for the Party included a short
musical presentation with songs and dialogue based on the trythms of
traditional gondhal songs used at weddings and religious ceremonies:

. . . The Goddess of the country, Indira.
Elect the cow and the calf.

The people's parliament is in Delhi,

But Delhi's controlled by the wealthy.
There's Appa, Gappa and Morarjibhai,

Who suppressed the people's will.

How did this wealthy stain come to power,

And live like parasites on mango trees?

We know that trees should be watered at the roots;
But if parasites hoard the water, the trees will die.

 

4Shahir Jagdish Khebudkar and G. D. Madgulkar, Povadas,
lavanis and other propaganda songs. Script for use by Ruling Congress
Party, 1971. (Mimeographed)

5Opposition leaders.

207
And as long as the rich survive this way,
The people's rule will never flourish.

A question follows in spoken voice: ”What has the Prime

Minister done for the people?" The reply is made in song:

Well, the people now have money in the banks,

But accounts are managed by thieves.

So the nation took care of this wealth,

Killing hopes of the helpless and the needy.

We countered by nationalizing the banks.6
The song continues, with music and dialogue, to expound on the various
national issues, including the controversial withdrawal of State
Government support for the maharajas (princes) of India, and rival
claims by opposition parties. It urges the people--called signifi-
cantly "little calves”--to wake up and win the election in their own
interest. In one of the stanzas, the image of the cow (Ruling
Congress) is tied to all the noble ideas of progress, and the image
is then cleverly related to the little calves--the public--which will
benefit in the end.

The Congress script materials were fully worked out, and
little was left to chance or improvisation. This is evident from
the full script of Khebudkar included in the appendices to this
study. Although Tamasha purists scoff at the use of the folk form
for political ends, those responsible for hiring the folk talent
claim the information campaign was not to be looked at as pure art,
nor as pure folk, but as part of overall communication strategy. At

any rate, the political parties must have believed they were justified

in the effort, both on moral grounds and on grounds of cost-effectiveness.

_—

6Shahir Atmaram Patil, Dramatic skit and songs. Script for
use by Ruling Congress Party, 1971. (Mimeographed)

208

As for effectiveness at the polls, I am unable to report any

direct relationship of the kala pathak program to the final vote;7

 

but the Ruling Congress Party offered its own rationale. For Dr. V. S.
Ranadive, General Secretary of the Maharashtra Pradesh Committee (until
his death just after the campaign), folk theatre was a more potent tool
of persuasion than speeches, especially in rural areas:
We still have many peasants in our villages who haven't the
staying power to follow political speeches, but we have seen
from previous campaigns that they appreciate our messages when 8
they are woven into Tamasha-style sketches, songs, and dialogues.
Ranadive, whose activity in politics spanned thirty years,
also believed he had developed a keen political sense which told him
that a good folk theatre troupe wins more support for a candidate
than any visiting political leader who may come to campaign on his
behalf. Judging from the fact that eighty-five Ruling Congress

candidates hired their own troupes, Ranadive's sense may be taken

as authoritative.

 

7The Ruling Congress won forty-two of the forty-two Maharashtrian
seats it contested. Altogether, forty-four of the forty-five available
seats were contested. The Old Congress Party contested nine seats and
won none; while the Jana Seegh contested twelve and won none. In its
sweep, the Ruling Congress gained ten seats over its previous total in
Maharashtra in the dissolved Lok Sabha (The Times of India, March 11,
1971.

 

8Dr. V. S. Ranadive, private interview, Bombay, February 27,

1971.

CONCLUSION

The purpose of this study, as noted in the Introduction, was
to describe the characteristics of Tamasha and to discuss the
utilization of the form, for propaganda, by social and political
organizations. On the basis of the information provided in the body
of the work, it is now possible to draw some qualitative observations
and conclusions.

Part 1 provided the reader with the background required for
some understanding of Tamasha and its place in the historical and
cultural framework of Maharashtra.

A general observation gleaned from the historical account of
the development of the folk form is that the first half of the
twentieth century was a critical period of transition from the
declining traditions of court patronage and village support to the
new sources of support in a cash economy society. Only after the
establishment of an independent India, in 1947, was a new trend
discerned--the search by artists for additional help in the form of
State Government aid.

Aside from the struggle for economic survival and other
monetary considerations, the history of Tamasha during the first half
of the twentieth century was marked by experimentation in efforts to
make the form relevant to contemporary social issues as well as to

broader segments of the population. These experiments led to the

209

210

development of the "sophisticated” Tamasha--the loknatya, or people's
theatre--which is distinguished from its "raw” counterpart by its
refinements in form and language. The refinement of the form has
helped to overcome long-standing disdain of Tamasha among the Marathi
middle-classes, including the intelligentsia.

From the views presented on the state of the art today
(Chapter III), it is possible to conclude that some of the early
vigor and spontaneity of Tamasha has been lost due to the effects
of rapid social change, economic hardships among artists, and the
challenge posed by the developing mass media, notably film. In
particular, the "raw" Tamasha tradition appeared to be in a precarious
situation, mainly due to social and economic deprivations affecting
most of rural Maharashtra. It is now apparent that any real change
for the better depends upon social and economic betterment of society
as a whole.

Meanwhile, there appeared to be strong indications that the
"sophisticated" Tamasha, or loknatya, was growing in public respecta-
bility and that it was finding a permanent place in the live theatre
scene. The development was based, evidently, upon the increasing
availability of professional acting, dancing, singing, and writing
talents from the middle—class sectors of society.

These indications may be taken as a demonstration of the
vitality and resiliency of Tamasha. The ”raw" tradition represents
an impulse strong enough, for the foreseeable future, to nourish the
"sophisticated” theatre and film experiments in the cities; while the

"life-line" to the people--the "raw” core--draws continued local

211

sustenance from the villages. (We recall that film-star Raj Kapoor
was concerned about this matter when he urged Tamasha artists to stay
close to the people so they would not work in a vacuum like that
"artificial breed"--the film actors.)

In a later chapter, we observed that the efforts made by
the State Government and by private bodies to regulate Tamasha have
had a significant impact upon the folk form. From the positive
standpoint, a measure of good taste has been instilled which has
apparently resulted in increasing public acceptance of Tamasha as a
family entertainment. Moreover, some social and economic improvement
has been recorded among many of the performing troupes. A growing
sense of social dignity has also been established to help Tamasha
performers attain professional status as artists.

On the other hand, the interjection of rules and regulations
by Government, particularly the censorship of presentations, has
had the effect of stifling much of the volatile "raw" entertainment
energies of the rural Tamasha troupes. The playwright and humorist
P. L. Deshpande was especially concerned that this stifling of energy
may lead to the I'emasculation“ of the native Tamasha of the native
Tamasha impulse which "is vital to the nourishment of both the 'raw'
and 'sophisticated' Tamasha traditions."1

Another troubling phenomenon which has assumed much importance
in the lives of Tamasha artists is the continuing political manipulation

(If the Marathi Tamasha Parishad, an organization originally created

 

1P. L. Deshpande, private interview, November, 1970.

212

by concerned individuals. The artists, as noted previously, have
become pawns in the broader considerations of political power and
influence.

Part 2 of this study investigated the use of Tamasha as a
traditional medium of mass communication to advance certain social
and political ideas and programs.

It was observed that upon India's attainment of independence,
the radical (anti-British, Communist) use of Tamasha in support of
revolutionary aims had, to all practical purposes, ended, and that
a milder form of social and political propaganda had taken its place.

Indications of growing, if limited, success of some of the
modernization and development programs--notab1y family planning--may
be cited as proof of effectiveness of the State Government's information
and motivation campaign. Tamasha, by implication, must be credited
with some share of responsibility in this limited success.

Privately, however, some Government officials have admitted to
me that they are not really convinced that Tamasha style entertain-
ments are very effective in communicating social messages to the masses.

My own assessment, based on discussion with other writers,
artists, Government officials, and All-India Radio officers (who make
use of Tamasha elements in some programming supporting rural development
aims), is that better attention to the artistic traditions of Tamasha
as well as to improvements in scripting and staging of the propaganda
shows could sharpen the overall effectiveness of the program. These

‘views may be summed up as follows: a delicate balance is required

213

between good, recognized artistry, the new and traditional conventions
of the Tamasha form, and propaganda content.

Any conclusive assessment, however, must await results of
more objective research into audience receptivity of the live enter-
tainments. If it can be shown by scientific research methods that
Maharashtrian villagers are really being motivated by direct, face-to-
face means of communication (alone, or in combination with the modern
mass media),2 then the program could be pursued with greater confidence
in the future.

All—India Radio does have something more enlightening to say
about measuring the effect of its own utilization of Tamasha materials
for broadcast purposes. (A.I.R. is under constant Government pressure
to extend the reach of Tamasha—type propaganda through the electronic
mass media for additional support of current development schemes.)
A.I.R.'s Listener-Research Office keeps a record of public reaction
to its programs, and more objective indications are available to
judge success and non-success. According to K. G. Kelkar, Program
Executive in Bombay, some twenty folk plays had been produced to
January, 1971, on family planning alone, ”all of which have gone down
very well with the public, judging by our mail surveys." On the
other hand, other subjects, such as small savings and community

development, have attracted little interest.3 Reaction of this kind

 

2The idea is pursued in a number of recent communication
studies, including Everett Rogers' Modernization Among Peasants (New
York: Holt, Rinehart, and Wilson, 1969), see especially Ch. 6.

3K. G. Kelkar, All—India Radio, private interview, Bombay,
.January, 1971.

214

is instructive to A.I.R. which is now aware that Tamasha is a better
medium of instruction than taped talks or lectures. Another lesson

to authorities is that only minimal propaganda can be usefully infused
in folk materials.

One gathers the question is no longer, ”What proof is there
to justify use of Tamasha for propaganda?” but rather, "How far
should a propagandist commit himself to the utilization of Tamasha?"
From the State Government's plans (in 1971) to increase the number
of sponsored troupes from forty to 200 (as noted in Chapter VI), it
may be seen that Maharashtra has chosen to respond to the second
question.

A similar situation prevails with respect to the political
use of Tamasha presentations in support of election campaigns. To
my knowledge, no attempt has been made to correlate live folk theatre
performances with poll results, or at least to study the effect of
folk theatre as a variable in the total communication strategy for
an election. Political parties, we have noted, appear to be content
to continue a practice which has evolved since the 19505.

The results of the 1971 election, as we have viewed it from
the Maharashtrian scene, may support the continued confidence in
propagandistic Tamasha preformances, at least as far as the Ruling
Congress Party is concerned. But even if further study and research
should find that this confidence is unwarranted and unscientific,

inany'of those I have interviewed believe the kala pathaks (Tamasha

 

cnfltural squads) will again be in the middle of the battle for votes

and voter influence at the next election.

215

From the materials presented in Part 2 of this study, it is
clear that Tamasha has survived the mid-twentieth century experiments
in ideological propaganda without gross distortion of its form. In
effect, ideological experimentation served to refine the form and to
make it increasingly respectable for wider audiences.

Concerning the form itself, it may be concluded that Tamasha
provides a great deal of plasticity to the playwright provided that
certain limitations are observed. Our study (in Chapter III) of
three playwrights--Shahir Sable, Vasant Sabnis, and Vijay Tendulkar--V
revealed the following major limitations of the form: (1) Tamasha
is primarily an entertainment vehicle, in which the entertaining
quality must be respected; and (2) Tamasha depends more upon the
improvisational abilities of the actors than on the playwright, and
the writer is therefore obliged to develop his works with sufficient
flexibility to accommodate such improvisation.

It was apparent that both Sable and Sabnis were capable of
working successfully within the framework imposed by these limita-
tions; while Tendulkar was unable to fulfill his creative impulses.

One major technical feature of the form, however, served to
benefit all three writers: the sense of relative freedom afforded
by Tamasha's theatrical conventions, including the open stage
approach to time and space; the utilization of actor-audience
involvement; and the employment of a songadya (jester) for verbal
wit and satire.

But gaps in our understanding of Tamasha still exist, notably

in the critical evaluation of the growing body of Tamasha literature.

216

The field of criticism is still wide open in this respect for
interested Marathi scholars. As suggested in this study, a wealth
of script materials is available for such study at the Stage Per-
formances Scrutiny Board Offices in Bombay.

Finally, there are implications to be drawn from this study
for Western theatre practitioners and scholars. By a process of
transposition, some of the elements of the form, conventions, and
production in Tamasha could be adapted to purely North American
requirements in the creation of a new and lively production format.

Western scholars have by no means exhausted the lessons that
can be gained from Asian theatre traditions. There remains much to
be gleaned, much to be transposed. This transposition of conventions
and forms must be encouraged if theatre is to move toward more meaning-
ful and honest relationships between performers and audiences, and if
these relationships are to deepen and enrich the human experience.

From Tamasha, specifically, we can borrow an unusual form
of variety theatre presentation--a fast—paced show of music, dance,
dramatic pieces--all worked into a unified whole. A troupe of actors,
singers, dancers, and musicians could together work out the shape of
the content which would be based upon prior study of the old and new
music, vaudeville, and theatre traditions of America, and thematic
concerns in the environment and among pe0ple. The idea would be to
seek a basis for identification with audiences, although this might
ideally work only for one ethnic group or one geographically limited

community at a time.

217

By working together, the members of the troupe would hope-
fully develop a sense of spontaneity and ease reaching directly to
audiences.

The close relationship of music to the dance and to the drama,
and of the whole to the audience, would be sought in production. With
careful direction, the form could be an agreeable and infectious mixture
of music, dance, wit, and satire.

To date, the closest North American approximation of this
approach may be found in the work of the San Francisco Mime Troupe.
But the transposition or Americanization of Tamasha could, I believe,
take a more broadly based direction (across social and economic class

lines), and initiate a strong rapport between performers and audiences.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

218

BIBLIOGRAPHY

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Newspapers

 

Indian Express (Bombay). "Artistes Told to Tackle Social Problems."
May 17, 1971.

 

”Dharia Assurance to Artistes." May 17, 1971.

 

"Dress Indian Style, Tamasha Artistes Told.” May 17,

 

l97l.
"Maharashtra Tops with 1,596 Newspapers.” Dec. 17, 1971.

 

Poona Daily News. "Attractive Immorality." May 19, 1971.

 

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"Tradition Rich Tamasha Is Immortal.” May 17. 1971-

 

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May 12, 1971.
"Broad Based Education Should Be the Aim.” May 18, 1971.

 

224

Poona Hearld. "Maharashtra's Successful Drive for Small Savings in
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"Tamasha Artistes Demand Greater Facilities.“ May 17,

 

1971.

Times of India (Bombay). "Appreciable Fall in Birth Rate in
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Reviews of Plays

 

Indian Express (Bombay). "'Kathewadi' Back with More Songs." May 18,
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Times of India (Bombay). "Enjoyable Marathi Play." May 17, 1971.
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. "Innovations Mark Tamasha by Niphadkar." A review of
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. "Mazya Jaalyat . . . Has Many Unusual Features." May 22,
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"Tamasha-style Play." May 12, 1971. A review of
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Population Council, N.Y. Report on Pqpulation/Family Planning, New
York: 1972.

 

State Family Planning Bureau, Government of Maharashtra. Family
Welfare and Planning, Maharashtra State 1957-68. Bombay:
n.p., 1969.

 

The Research and Reference Division; Ministry of Information and
Broadcasting, Government of India. India, a Reference
Annual, 1970. New Delhi: Publications Division, 1970.

 

Other Sources

Indira Gandhi. "Why Poll Now?" All-India Radio broadcast, New
Delhi, Dec. 27, 1970.

Unpeblished Materials

 

Abrams, Tevia. "A Dash of Art with Your Politics." Unpublished
article, Poona, l97l. (Typewritten.)

Desai, Sudha R. "Bhavai: A Medieval Form of Ancient Indian Dramatic
Art (Natya) as Prevalent in Gujarat." Unpublished Ph.D.
dissertation, University of Bombay, 1955.

Estes, Emily. ”Maharashtra Folk Theatre." Unpublished undergraduate
paper for Colorado University, December, 1970.

Gavankar, D. N. Bandya Divan. (”Bandya the Treasurer.") Translated
by Nilima Vaidya and adapted by Tevia Abrams. Unpublished
translation of a Marathi Tamasha script. Poona: l97l.
(Typewritten.)

 

Government of Maharashtra. I'Rules of the Stage Performance Scrutiny
‘ Board," Bombay, 1960. (Mimeographed.)

Kale, K. Narain. "Form and Function of Mass Media." Unpublished
paper read at Symposium on Language, Arts and Mass Culture
in India, Duke University, N.C., March 13-15, 1970. (Type-
written.)

226

Khebudkar, Shahir Jagdish. "We Must Win This Time." Translated by
Nilima Vaidya and adapted by Tevia Abrams. Unpublished
translation of the Marathi Tamasha script for use by Ruling
Congress Party during the 1971 National Election Campaign.
(Typewritten.)

Omvedt, Gail. "Jotirao Phule and the Ideology of Social Revolution
in India." Unpublished article in preparation for a doctoral
dissertation. Poona: l97l. (Mimeographed.)

Patil, Shankar. Katha Akalechya Kandyachi. ("A Tale of the Onion
of Intelligence.“)7 Translated by Nilima Vaidya and adapted
by Tevia Abrams. Unpublished translation of a Marathi
Tamasha script. Poona: l97l. (Typewritten.)

 

Sable, Shahir. Yamarajyat Ek Ratra. ("One Night in Hell.") Translated
by Nilima vaTdya and adapted by Tevia Abrams. Unpublished
translation of a Marathi Tamasha script. Poona: l97l.
(Typewritten.)

 

Sathe, Annabhau. Aklechi Goshta. ("A Tale of Wisdom.") Translated
by Nilima Vaidya and adapted by Tevia Abrams. Unpublished
translation of a Marathi Tamasha script. Poona: 1971.
(Typewritten.)

 

Tendulkar, Vijay. Encounter in Umbugland. Unpublished translation
of a Marathiiplay. Bombay: n.d. (Mimeographed.)

 

. The Vultures. Unpublished translation of a Marathi
play. Bombay: n.d. (Mimeographed.)

 

 

United Nations Educational Scientific and Cultural Organization/
International Planned Parenthood Federation. Working
Document for the Experts' Meeting on the Integrated Use of
Folk Media and Mass Media in Family Planning Communication
Programmes. London, Nov., 1972, pp. 100, 101. (Mimeographed.)

 

 

 

Interviews

 

Bombay. Bapat, Vasant. Educator, producer of folk theatre programs.
Nov., 1970.

Bhagvat, Durga. Scholar. Jan. 10, 1971.

 

Bhave, Vinayak. Journalist. Nov. 10, 24, 1970;

 

net. 14, 18, 1970; Jan. 4, 10, 1971; May 24, 1971.

Deshpande, P. L. Humorist, playwright, actor. Nov.,

 

19i0.

227

Bombay. Doshi, J. K. Research officer and Kelkar, K. G., Program
Executive, at All-India Radio. Jan. 5, 1971.

Gavankar, Shahir D. N. March 4, 1971.

 

Gavankar, Shahir D. N., and Patil, Atmaram. March 11,

 

l97l.

. Humane, Rajaram. Director of Cultural Affairs, Govern-
ment of Maharashtra. Nov. 10, 1970.

 

. Kanetkar. Deputy Director of Publicity, Government of
Maharashtra. Feb. 24, 1971.

 

. Mali, Radu, Kolhapurkar, Lata and Kalhapurkar, Jayashree.
The New Hanuman Theatre. Nov. 24, 1970.

 

Nerale, Madhukar. Theatre proprietor. May 24, 1971.

 

. Patel, Jayanti. Gujarati humorist, cartoonist and
playwright. Dec. 20, 1970; June 10, 1971.

 

Pathak, Dina. Actress, director, producer. Feb. 3,

 

19h.

. Ranadive, Dr. V. S. General Secretary, Maharashtra
Pradesh Congress Committee. Feb. 27, 1971.

 

Sable, Shahir. Nov., 1970.

 

. Sable, Shahir, and his troupe. Weekend trip to Debhewadi
Village. Dec. 11-13, 1970.

 

Sabnis, Vasant. Playwright. Dec., 1970.

 

. Samand, D. R. Director of Publicity, Government of
Maharashtra. Feb. 24, 1971.

 

Shaikh, Shahir Amar, widow of. Nov., 1970.

 

. Shirshat, M. P., Secretary, Stage Performances Scrutiny
Board and Godsay, C. P. Honorary Chairman, Nov. 28, 1970.

 

Tendulkar, Vijay. Playwright. Dec. 16, 1970.

 

New Delhi. Alkazi, Ebrahim. Director, National School of Drama.
Dec. 9, 1970.

Poona. Dandekar, Dr. V. N. Director, Gokhale Institute of Politics
and Economics. March 18, 1971.

228

Poona. Gore, Balasaheb. General Secretary, Marathi Tamasha Parishad.
Feb. 26, 1971.

Inamdar, G. V., and P. V. Tamasha performers. Jan. 31,

 

19%].
Kale, K. Narayan. Author, critic. July, 1971.

 

. Kelkar, Y. N. Literary historian and authority on
Marathi povadas. July, 1971.

 

. Madgulkar, Vyankatesh. Radio producer and playwright.
Jan., 1971; Feb., 1971.

 

Madgulkar, G. D. Song-writer and film producer. March,

 

1971.
Marathe, Bharati. Actress. Feb., 1971.

 

Mirasdar, D. M. Playwright. Feb. 17, 1971.

 

Tendulkar, Vijay. Playwright. Feb., 1970.

 

. Thitey, Rajabhau. Journalist, producer. Dec. 29, 1970;
Jan., 1971; March, 1971; Apr. 3, 1971; May, 1971.

 

Marathi Language Materials

 

Books

Adavanta, M. N., ed. Painjan. Edited by D. T. Joshi. Poona:
Chitrashala Press, 1954. The work contains texts of lavanis
and povadas of the Shivaji and Peshva periods.

Babar, Dr. Sarojini. Tamasha. Poona: Anand Press, 1971. A brief
and insubstantial pamphlet on the Tamasha form; but mainly
an effort to explain the evolving "low-class" form to a
socially conscious middle class in order to overcome
traditional disdain.

Bhave, L. N. Patthe Bapurao. Bombay: Parchure Prakashan, 1959.

 

Joshi, V. K. Loknatyachi Parampara. ("The Tradition of Folk
Theatre.") Poona: Thokal Prakashan, 1961. The best
standard historical work on Tamasha to date.

 

Sumant. Uncha Taan, Uncha Matha. ("High Note for a Head Held High.")
Bombay: Abhinay Prakashan, 1959. Biography of Shahir Amar
Shaikh, the popular Communist Tamasha artist.

 

229

Thitey, Rajabhau, ed. Shahir Haubatti, Poona: Sampada Prakashan,
956.

 

Vatkar, Namdev. Marathichi Lokkala-Tamasha. Kolhapur: Prakashan,
n.d.

 

Tamasha. Kolhapur: Shettey Prakashan, 1968. A good
standard reference on Tamasha.

 

Povadas, Lavanis and Other Song Materials
Associated with Tamasha Entertainments

 

 

Bala, Honaji, Lavani. Poona: Shaligram, 1924.

Bapurao, Patthe. Lavanis by Patthe Bapurao. Part I. Poona: G. G.
Adhikari, n.d.

 

Patthe Bepurao Kulkarni Krut, Bhedik Lavanis. Edited
by Bapurao Jintikar. Part III. Poona: Bapurao Jintikar,
1958.
Dabhade, M. K. Shahiji Bhonsle Povada. Satara, 1925.

Gondhalekar, R. S., ed. Ramajoshi Lavani. Poona: n.p., 1895.

 

Gupte, S. S. Tanaji Malusare Povada. Paratwada, 1935.

 

Joshi, Ram. Lavanis. Poona: Shaligram, 1908.

Kargutakar, A. B. Baji Prabhucha Povada. ("Povada Written for Baji
Prabhu.") Bombay: Shirsagar and Co., 1933.

 

Kelkar, Y. N. Shahiri Wangmaya. ("Poetic Literature of the Shahirs.")
Poona: Chitra Shala Press, n.d.

 

Khanvilkar, R. V. Povada on Lokamanya Tilak. Wai: Modvutra Press,
1925.

 

Parshuram. Lavanis. Poona: Shaligram, 1907.

Pathak, Madhukar. Lokpriya Lavanya. 3rd ed. Bombay: Central
Publishers, 1970.

 

Phandi, Anant. Lavanis. Collected by S. N. Joshi, 4th ed. Poona:
Chitrashala Press, 1921.

Prabhakar, Shahir. Povada and Lavani. Collected by S. N. Joshi.
Poona: Chitrashala Press, 1920.

 

Sabfle, Shahir. Lokgeete. ("Folksongs.") Collected by Mukunda
Vichare. Bombayzr Central Publishers, 1968.

230

Sahasrabudhye. Marathi Shahiri Literature. Poona: G. L. Thokal,
n.d.

 

Sathe, Annabhau. Punjab, Delhi Cha Danga. ("[Povada] On the Punjab-
Delhi Troubles.") Bombay: Lok—Prakashan Griha, n.d.

 

Shaikh, Shahir Amar. Amargeet Amar. ("Immortal Songs.") Bombay:
Abhinav Publishers, 1951.

 

. Meje Povade. ("My Povadas.") Bombay: Abhinav
Publishers, n.3,

 

 

Kalash. ("The Pot.“) Poona: Continental Publishers,

 

1958.

Articles and Periodicals

 

VAim of the First Tamasha Parishad." Mauj. (Bombay), June, 1955,
n.p.

"An Interview with Shahir Sable." Rasarang. Nasik: 1970, pp. 120-
122.

Atre, P. K. "Fire and Water." Yu antar. (Bombay), Vol. 16, No. 21-
22, Nov. 30, 1969, pp. 68-73. The message of Shaikh's povadas.

Bhagvat, Durga. "Keep the Spirit of Art Alive." Mauj. (Bombay),
Sept. 8, 1957.

Dange, S. A. "Use the Lives of the Workers as a Weapon in Literature."
Yugantar. (Bombay). Vol. 16, No. 21-22, Nov. 30, 1969,
pp. 43-46.

Dinman (Bombay). March 7, 1971, pp. 43-45. A review of a February,
1971, conference in Delhi on the theatre arts of India.
Leading figures of the folk and urban theatre traditions
participated.

Din Mitra. Official organ of the Satya Shodhak Samaj. (Sautana,
Ahmednagar District). March 14, Nov. 9. Items describing
productions of jalsas by the Truthseekers. ‘

Gavankar, D. N. "Immortal Amar." Yugantar. (Bombay), Vol. 16,

No. 21-22, Nov. 30, 1969, pp. 65-67, 80. Description of a
performance by Shahir Amar Shaikh.

"The Shahir [Sathe] Who Revolutionized Tamasha." Yugantar.

 

(Bombay), Vol. 16, No. 21-22, Nov. 30, 1969, pp. 59-63.

Karedha, Dr. Sada. "Annabhau's Story World." Yugantar. (Bombay),
V01. 16, No. 21-22, Nov. 30, 1969, pp. 20-24, 39. The
philosophy of Shahir Amar Shaikh.

231

Kharat, Shankarao. "Light at Night, Dark in the Morning." Stree.
Poona: Feb., 1971, pp. 12-16, 89, 91. Description of the
life of a "raw" Tamasha dancer.

Lad, Shrikant. Editorial. Yu antar. (Bombay), Vol. 16, No. 21-22,
Nov. 30, 1969, p. l. Eulogies of Shahir Annabhau Sathe and
Shahir Amar Shaikh.

Patil, Atmaram. "He Told the Tamasha Form and Imbued It with Poetry."
Yu antar. (Bombay). Vol. 16, No. 21-22, Nov. 30, 1969,
pp. 14-16, 39. Shahir Annabhau Sathe's influence on the
Tamasha form.

. "Such is the Shahiri Tradition." Shahir Naubat. (Poona),
March, 1970, pp. 11, 12, 73.

 

 

Potdar, Acharya Madhav. "Burning Spark." Yugantar. (Bombay),
Vol. 16, No. 21-22, Nov. 30, 1969, pp. 52-56. The message
and style of Shahir Amar Shaikh's poetry is described.

Sathe, Annabhau. "Guidelines for Tamasha." Nava Yug. (Bombay),
Oct. 20, 1957.

"The Third Maharashtra Conference." Mauj. (Bombay), AUQ- 24. 1957-

Newspapers

 

Bharat (Bombay). "Results of the Second Tamasha Conference."
July 9, 1956.

Loksatta (Bombay). "Most of Backward Maharashtrian Society Is
Stirred by Tamasha.” June 26, 1955.

"Second Conference of Maharashtra Tamasha Parishad at
Aryabhushan." July 7, 1956.

 

Maratha (Bombay). Dec. 25, 1957. Eulogy on the death anniversary
of ShahirPatthe Bapurao by Marathi dramatist P. K. Atre.

Navakaal (Bombay). May 24, 1971, p. 2. An article on the political
controversy surrounding the 1971 Marathi Tamasha Parishad
held in Poona.

Nava Shakti (Bombay). Oct. 11, 1960. A plea to government to reduce

 

red tape in licensing of Tamasha performances.

"Government on Tamasha." June 28, 1955.

 

"Uplifting of Tamasha." June 29, 1955.

 

232

Nava Shakti (Bombay). “Virale: Chief Guest at the Marathi Tamasha
Conference, Held at Jalgaon 10th Oct. 1960." Oct. 11, 1960.

 

Pudhari (Bombay). "The Sad Story of the Illiterate Tamasha Artists
Placed before Government and Society." June 26, 1955.

Sakal (Poona). "Conference of Tamasha Artists to Be Held in Poona."
July 7, 1956.

 

. "In the Next Elections, the Need of Tamashas Will Be
Greater than the Leaders!" June 26, 1955.

 

"Maharashtra Tamasha Parishad." June 26, 1955.

 

P. L. Deshpande, "Tamasha from Maharashtra." July 8,

 

1956.

. "There Should Be Government Tamasha Centres." July 8,
1956.

 

Marathi Scripts

Bargir, R. Jalimandi Peekli Karvanda. ("The Fruit Is Ripe.")
Kolhapur: Shettey Publishers, 1970.

Chavan, S. B. Prema, Tuje Naav Vasana. ("Lust for Love.“) Kolhapur:
Shettey Publishers, 1968.

Devrukhar, V. Malawarchi Manse. ("Upper Class People.") Poona:
Sampada Prakashan, 1958.

 

Gavankar, D. N. Bandya Divan. (”Bandya the Treasurer.") Bombay:
Lok Prakashan, 1943.

 

. Swaegalokacha Batmidar. ("A Messenger from Heaven.")
Bombay: Lok-Sahitya, 1950.

 

 

Joshi, Sharad, and Lokhandi, Madhukar. Hapapacha maat Gapapa. ("A
Tale of Three Horses.") n.p., 1957.

Lokhande, Madhukar. Shahiranchi Hajeri va Pativrata. ("Critique of the
Shahirs, and The Dev0ted Wife.") Poona: Pratibha Pub., 1956.

Pandurang, Jadhav. Teen Pidhyancha Vairi. ("Enemy for Three
Generations.")’ Kolhapur: Shettey Prakashan, 1969.

Patfil, Shankar. Katha Akalechya Kandyachi. ("A Tale of the Onion of
Intelligence.”) n.p.: Prapanch Publishers, 1969.

Lavangi Mirchi Kolhapurchi. ("A Saucy Woman from
Kolhapur" or "A Spicy Tale from Kolhapur.") Poona:
Kulkarni Prakashan, 1969.

 

233

Patil, Shantaram. Aika Ho Aika. ("Listen to Me.") Kolhapur:
Shettey Prakashan, 1969.

Patil, Vasant. Iya Rangalya Ratri Asha. ("Nights of Hope.") Bombay:
Tridal Publishers, 1970.

Sable, Shahir. Aburaoche Lageen. ("Aburao's Marriage.") Bombay:
Ramkrishna Press, 1963.

. Andhala Daltai. ("Blind Man Grinds.") Bombay:
Yashodhan, 1967.

. Asuni Khas Malak Gharacha. ("Landlord of the House.")
n.p., 1967.

. Bapecha Baap. ("Father's Father.") Bombay: Rasavanti
Prakashan, 1956.

 

. Gyanbacha Mekh. ("Gyanba's Satire.") Bombay: Ramkrishna
Book Depot, 1963.

. Nashib Phutke, Sadhun Ghya. ("Your Future's in Your
Hands.") Bombay: Sharad Art Printers, 1957.

 

. Yamarajyat Ek Ratra. ("One Night in Hell.") Poona:
Jaibharat Press, 1964.

 

 

Sathe, Annabhau. Aklechi Goshta. ("A Tale of Wisdom.") Bombay:
Lok Prakashan Griha, 1944.

. Deshbakta Ghotale. ("Ghotale the Patriot.") Bombay:
Abhinav Publishers, 1957.

 

Shettey, Chandrakant. Asun Adchan Nasun Kholamba. (”A Wife in Name
Only.") Kolhapur: Shettey Publishers, 1968.

Takalkar, Gopal. Nartaki. ("The Dancer.") Kolhapur: Shettey
Prakashan, 1968.

Tendulkar, Vijay. Sari Ga Sari. ("Lovely Ornament.") Bombay:
Mauj Prakashan, 1964.

 

Vatkar, Namdev. Da g. (”The Blot.") 3rd ed. Kolhapur: Shettey
Prakashan, 1961.

limpublished Materials

Khebudkar, Shahir Jagdish, and Madgulkar, G. D. Povadas, lavanis
and other propaganda songs. Script for use by Ruling Congress
Party during the 1971 national election campaign. (Mimeographed.)

234

Patil, Shahir Atmaram. Dramatic Skit and Songs. Script for use
by Ruling Congress Party during the 1971 National Election
Campaign. (Mimeographed.)

Sable, Shahir. "Proposal for a Mobile Theatre." Presentation to
the Government of Maharashtra, Dec. 1970. (Mimeographed.)

Other Sources

 

Phadke, N. C. Tape-recorded speech delivered at a reception for
Tamasha artist, Bapurao Punekar. Poona: Aug. 25, 1970.

APPENDICES

235

APPENDIX A

GLOSSARY

236

GLOSSARY

Baari: Troupe. There are sangeet-baaris, which are Tamasha song-and-

 

dance troupes, and dholki-baaris (also called dholki-phads),

 

 

which are basically dramatic troupes performing farces and

vags, or folk dramas.

 

Bhedic compositions: Riddles in song and verse forming questions and

 

answers, and displaying fine wit.

Chakkad: Short poetic dialogue units on the subject of love, set to
music.

22:3 Large tambourine-shaped percussion instrument which produces a
flat but striking beat.

Daulat-Jadda: Money given to Tamasha artists by spectators at per-

 

formances. The practice originated in Moghul times, but is
now found only in "raw" (rural or unrefined) Tamasha per-
formances in villages and in a handful of theatres in Bombay,
Poona, Kolhapur and other large towns.

lflm[Uel: Two-sided drum, shaped cylindrically and suspended by straps
from the shoulders. It is the most characteristic instrument
in Tamasha and provides the form with its essential rhythms
for singing and dancing.

Dholki-Baari: A dramatic troupe, with its own musicians, singers and

 

dancers, which performs farces and yege, or folk dramas.
£31m: The opening segment of any complete Tamasha performance. It is

a devotional song for the god Ganesha, patron of the arts,

to whom invocation is made for almost any happy celebration

or occasion.

237

238

E22122} The second segment of a Tamasha performance which is a light-
hearted and often lascivious treatment in song, dance, and
dialogue of the young Krishna's encounter with the gaulans
(or geple_or milkmaids) on the road to the holy city of
Mathura.

Ghungrus: Ankle bells of a Tamasha dancer.

flelgje Percussion instrument which looks like a tambourine, but which
is actually a smaller version of a similar-looking instrument
called the gem,

Jatra: A village fair at which Tamasha troupes often perform. (It
is also the name given to the folk theatre form of Bengal.)

£292} A metal percussion instrument in the shape of a triangle, used
in Tamasha performances.

fijmmee: A one-man performance in song and narrative of stories from
Hindu Mythology. The Kirtankar is the storyteller. The form
originates with temple story-tellers. Traditional Kirtans
are performed to this day, but modern content has also been
introduced by State Government agencies to spread messages
of family planning among traditionally-minded women, especially
in small villages.

Lavanis: Sensuous, often lascivious poems which have rhythms and metres
enabling them to be sung in particular ways, to instrumental

accompaniment-~a harmonium, tabla or dholki-~while one or more

 

dancers will freely give vigorous and soulful expression to
the emotions expressed in the text.

Molak: The owner of a Baari or troupe.

239

Manjeera: Tiny, brass cymbals, struck in rhythmic accompaniment to
the geel51;player.

Natch poryas: Young male dancers who played women's roles in the early
Tamashas. It wasn't until the turn of the twentieth century
that they were replaced by women.

eye; Shepherd's song.

Eelee; India's smallest unit of coinage. One hundred pejee equal one
[2222:

Peyege, Originally battlefield ballads in praise of heroic kings,
warriors, struggles and political events. The lines are
long and regular and are used as pure narrative. It might
also be described as rhythmic narrative, the rhythm being
provided in the lines of the ballads themselves.

Bepee; The value of the Indian 32222.1" 1971 was 13.3 cents. Seven
and one-half‘eepeee_were equal to one U.S. dollar.

Sangeet-baari: A song-and-dance troupe performing mainly lavanis,

 

Urdu songs (geeele_and kavalis), and film songs.

§eeeee: The leader of a Tamasha troupe who may assume the main
dramatic roles as well as the direction and choreography
of productions.

.§D§Di£3 Literally, people's poet; also, an honorific title assumed by
the poet-dramatist; sometimes used in an honorific sense to

denote the leader of a dholki-baari Tamasha troupe.

 

Shongadya: The jester of any Tamasha troupe whose improvised antics
and dialogues are designed to keep audience interest from

flagging.

240

Tuntuni: A crude one-stringed folk instrument used in Tamasha.

yeg, A humorous dramatic presentation by a dholki-baari.

 

APPENDIX B

A SAMPLE PROPAGANDA TAMASHA SCRIPT FOR

GOVERNMENT DEVELOPMENT PROGRAMS

241

APPENDIX B

A SAMPLE PROPAGANDA TAMASHA SCRIPT FOR
GOVERNMENT DEVELOPMENT PROGRAMS

The sample script reproduced here in English adaptation from
the original Marathi was written and produced for village tours by the

Kala Sangam (Performing Arts Troupe), Poona, at the request of the

 

 

Government of Maharashtra Directorate of Publicity. The Kala Sangam
is headed by V. L. Inamdar.

The script dates back several years. It has not been pub-
lished and there are no copyright restrictions governing its repro-
duction here. The author is Prakash Inamdar. Translation and adap-
tation: Nilima Vaidya and Tevia Abrams.

Kala Sangam is one of the better-known troupes engaged in a

 

live folk media campaign for the Government in support of national and

regional deve10pment and modernization programs.

ANNOUNCER

Shahir Appasaheb Inamdar and his party will perform a cultural program.
It will begin with the Maharashtra Geet composed by the late Shripad
Krishna Kolhatkar, and it will continue with the entertainment program.

 

(The cast sings the Maharashtra
Geet)

 

You are beautiful and rich,

Our beloved Maharashtra.

Like mountains pushing to the sky.

Your history is like that,

And the sky is the limit of your ambitions.

What are palaces to temples of the heart?
Big and miraculous centres of gentle languages,

242

243

Her heart, her chastity brightens the house . . .
Let the song of the Marathas be heard!

Let its spirit be expressed in words!

Let its faith dwell in the heart!

And, if the time comes,

Let us sacrifice life for the just cause.

ANNOUNCER

And now, we start the real program, with a prayer to Ganesha [the gee],

followed by the gaulan.

(The cast sings the devotional

9.6m)

Poet of poets, oh, Gajanan!

Listen to the Vedas.

Inspire the uneducated and entertain the people.
Weave garlands of our words

So they will strike the rioht meanings.
Order the seven notes to play in the throat
Of a skilful singer.

Make Sidhi dance divinely with Saraswati

On the stage, oh Ganesha!

The Ganesha is pleased.

Oh, speak to us now!

Oh, tuntuni player, let's hear you too,
Make joyous your rhythms.

Oh, Dimdi, speak! You too, Tikan!

Sound out, you cymbals.

Oh dancer, get up and stamp your feet!

Why are your dancing bells silent?

Oh, Songadya! Fix your turban.

Humor should be ready on your tongue.

(SCHOOLMASTER enters.
SONGADYA look to him)

 

SHAHIR
Hello, master.

SONGADYA
Hello, master.

MASTER

 

SHAHIR and

(Ereetings, everyone. That was a fine gee, I liked the singing very

rnuch, especially because I never heard it before.

244

SHAHIR

 

Naturally. How could you have heard it before? You're one of those
old-fashioned people who never paid any real attention to the devotional
oans. Shahirs Ram Joshi and Honaji Bala were among the up-to—date new
generation writers, even if they are long dead now.

SONGADYA
Brand new, of course.

MASTER

 

Funny, isn't it? . . . That being ”new” is considered "good."
SONGADYA

Funny? What do you mean by funny?
MASTER

 

What I mean is, when a person sees something new he always runs head-
long for it. And what does he get?

SONGADYA & SHAHIR

 

What?
MASTER

 

Only a new label. Inside, there's nothing of substance.
SONGAQle
You mean our new generation lacks substance?

MASTER

 

Only a new lable. Inside, there's nothing of substance.

SONGADYA

 

You mean our new generation lacks substance?

MASTER

 

No. No. Why should I label everything? (Pause) Alright, now .
just what do you think is going to happen now?

SHAHIR

 

Fknv should I know? How can I tell what's supposed to be in front
of us?

245

SONGADYA

Easy. Look out there! The lights are on and we can see so many people
in front of us.

MASTER

 

Sure, but what's supposed to happen in front of those people out there?
W
You seem to be in a fix.

MASTER

 

Not at all. The problem is simple. The gee is over . . . I mean
traditionally. It's like looking at an approaching train. When you
see the engine, you know there are coaches following. The same when
you see a tree in the sun. You know there'll be shade beneath it.

And with people, you know there's love. (Points to SHAHIR) But with
the phony holy man like that one . . . you suspect there are some women
following, like the ones you see behind every phony sadhu all over our
country. (Sighs) What I really mean is, don't you plan to do the
gaulan part of this program now that the gee_is over?

SHAHIR

 

(Laughs) I never suspected such a withered old leaf could have its
touch of green.

SONGADYA
But Shahir . . . this green touch is more bitter than you think.

MASTER

 

Is that so? What do you mean by that?

SONGADYA
Let me tell you in a proper traditional way. Take any tree, for
example. Let it be a peepul tree or a banyan. No matter how old

they are, they turn green in the dry season.

MASTER

 

What's so special about that? That's a purely natural thing.
SONGADYA

(To audience) Why is this old trunk with new leaves worried about
the gaulan?

246

SHAHIR

 

Look, Master, we've got the gaulans ready.
MASTER

 

If they're ready, let them come!

SHAHIR

 

Why do you want to rush them? Just because I say they're ready, that's
no reason to rush it. Maybe they've got problems backstage.

SONGADYA
Those young milkmaids will be going to Mathura. They may get lost.
Did you ever think of that? Well, just to help them along, we've asked
Mavshi (Auntie) to accompany them. .

SHAHIR

 

Of course! We must have a Mavshi.
SONGADYA

Let's face it. The Gaulans can't go anywhere unless they've got their
Mavshi. Now if they are all set to go to market at Mathura, we can
start the Gaulan. Otherwise no gaulan.

SHAHIR

 

And that means no program!

MASTER

 

Oh, boy! The trouble we're going to have finding a Mavshi.

SONGADYA & SHAHIR

 

What do you mean?

MASTER

 

I mean today you can get all kinds of new things, but anything
traditional--like your Mavshi--is difficult to find.

SONGADYA

Look, master. We need a Mavshi at any cost. Age is no problem, and
«even if it's second hand, it'll do. Or give us the spare parts. Even
that'll do. Only, we must have a Mavchi!

247

MASTER

(To audience) Alright, everyone! Since we can't ignore this problem
and considering your desire for further entertainment, I am prepared

to become the Mavshi. (MAVSHI is traditionally played by a man dressed
in a sari as an old lady.) Right! Call the gaulans!

SONGADYA

I'll call them. But remember, master, you'd better not end up in a
maternity hospital.

(Enter GAULANS, singing)

I am the child of Nand and Yeshoda.1

The ball rolled into a pond.

Young Krishna was a terror to the people of Mathura.
He made them dance all the time.

MAVSHI

(To GAULANS) Come! We're off to Mathura! I hope you've all decided
to go.

GAULANS
Yes! Yes! Definitely.
web;
All dressed up? Got all your ornaments? . . . Your goods?
GAULANS
Yes. Everything.
MAVSHI

 

(To FIRST GAULAN) What exactly have you taken?
FIRST GAULAN

I've got buttermilk.
MAVSHI

 

(To SECOND) And you?

 

1Krishna's parents.

248

SECOND GAULAN

 

Me? I've got mlik.
mm
Good. (To THIRD) What have you taken?
THIRD GAULAN

 

Butter.

MAVSHI

 

Butter? That's a silly thing to take. Butter's gone down at the
market. You'll never get a decent price for it.

THIRD GAULAN

 

Mavshi, You've been selling butter for many years now and you still
don't understand that there's a great demand for butter in this country.
We need enough to butter up the people so that work will get done.

MAVSHI

 

True. True. That's how it is. Go to a village. . . . (Mimes the
buttering of bread, using both hands) Go to a district. . . . (Some
gestures) Or a village. (Some gestures) Or a government hospital.

THIRD GAULAN

 

Hospital? Why? .
MAVSHI

 

You should see a hospital. Fine experience. Just butter up the people
there and you get the proper medicines. Otherwise, you're forgotten.
Butter, my dear, is nothing less than a bribe. And that just isn't
right. People really shouldn't offer bribes. You shouldn't be too
generous with your butter. You just decide right now that you'll do
the right thing and there'll be no question about bribes. (To FOURTH
GAULAN) And you, my sweet. . . . What have you taken?

FOURTH GAULAN

 

I'm clever. I've taken some stale molasses.

MAVSHI

 

Clever! Clever! But who do you think will want to buy stale molasses?

249

FOURTH GAULAN

 

That's not important. Today it's the stale variety that goes. Plenty
of customers, and they're paying high prices.

MAVSHI

 

Ah! That's because they can make home-made wines and liquors with it.
That business pays well. But think of all the homes ruined by drink!
And think of the part your sale of stale molasses plays in the destruc—
tion! Those who earn money in this way have to share their money all
along the line. The police, for example. Probably, they'll never get
caught. It's only the poor people like us, who get it in the neck.
Don't get involved, pigeon. (To All) Let's go, everyone! It's late.
No stopping on the way.

(MAVSHI and GAULANS go round in
circles on the stage. Enter
PENDYA, friend to KRISHNA.)

 

 

m
Stop! Stop!

MAVSHI
Whom are you talking to?

PENDYA
You, of course.

we

Oh. (Continues on her way with the others)

PENDYA

 

Stop!
MAVSHI

 

What? Whom are you talking to?

PENDYA

 

You.

(MAVSHI continues her journey
with the others)

(In English) Stop!

(Stops) Oh, now I've just got to stop.

Why?

Because he's talking in Sahib's language.

Sahib's?

What does that mean?

(To Pendya) His Sahib was here for a hundred and fifty years.

250

PENDYA

 

MAVSHI

 

PENDYA 8 GAULANS

 

MAVSHI

 

PENDYA

 

GAULAN

 

MAVSHI

Somehow

or other we managed to get rid of him, but his language stayed on.

Oh, I see.

You're blocking our path. Who

PENDYA

 

MAVSHI

 

are you?

PENDYA

Don't you know me? I'm your . . .

Inspector?

Do I look like one?

I (ion't know. On whose authority have you stopped us?

MAVSHl

 

PENDYA

 

MAVSHI

 

251

PENDYA

 

My King's authority.

MAVSHI

 

Who's your King? Oh! Now look here! We've just got to get to market.

PENDYA

 

Then, pay my tax.

MAVSHI

 

First, you let us go to sell our goods, and then we'll pay your tax.

PENDYA

 

I'm always getting cheated like this. You're not going! That's final!
Pay my tax!

w
No! Why should I pay taxes to a slave?
PENDYA

Alright. I'm a slave. And he's my King. And you . . . gaulans . . .
are members of his harem.

MAVSHI

 

Okay. If he's the King then we're his wives. And you're the slave.
Then you just tell me how can a slave block the path of the King's
wives?

PENDYA

Oh, but I'm a special slave. The King likes me. And I can stop anyone
I please. . . . You or the King.

MAVSHI

 

Go on!

(All the GAULANS push PENDYA aside
and continue on their way. KRISHNA
enters, joins PENDYA and together
they block the GAULANS.)

252

KRISHNA

Stop! One step more and it's . . . Pakistan!
2mm

Oh! Pakistan? (To AUDIENCE) Ah, now he's a column of tanks.
new.

(To GAULANS) All right, lovelies. I guess we'll just have to stop
now.

FIRST GAULAN

 

Why, Auntie?
MAVSHI
Can't you see? Haven't you got eyes in your head?

FIRST GAULAN

 

I can only see red signals.

MAVSHI

 

That's the problem. The switch is closed.
elem.

Am I a railway system? Obviously no one recognizes me here. I am
Krishna of Mathura.

met;
Ah! But such a nice young man!

KRISHNA
Now you know who I am.

M_A_v_§_H_I_
Of course not! You don't look like a god.

KRISHNA

‘This auntie is very cheeky. Let's ask the others if they know me.

253

MAVSHI

If any of our girls know you then just take what you want and let us
continue on our way.

KRISHNA
Alright. Ask them.
MAVSHI

 

(To FIRST) 00 you know who this animal is?
FIRST GAULAN

 

No.
name.
(To SECOND) And you?
SECOND GAULAN

 

No.
MAVSHI

 

(To THIRD) Look at this building, my dear. It's an old historic
structure. Damaged by the recent floods here in Poona, but not fully
repaired like the old fort in Poona. Just look at it! Ground floor,
a garage with two taxis and some trucks. First floor, small hotel.
Second floor, a radio repair shop. Don't you recognize it by now?
Krishna indeed!

THIRD GAULAN

 

No, Auntie.

MAVSHI

 

(To FOURTH) What about you?
FOURTH GAULAN

 

(Looking at KRISHNA) Ah . . . (Smiles)
PENDYA

 

What? Speak up!

254

FOURTH GAULAN

 

(To KRISHNA) Is it really you? Where have you been all this time?
(To MAVSHI) Yes, Auntie. I know him.

MAVSHI

 

(Dancing about) Ahah!
KRISHNA
Mavshi! What are you doing? Let the girl speak.

FOURTH GAULAN

 

On our way to Mathura, there's a small river.

PENDYA

 

(Interrupts) Is it the Jamuna?
MAVSHI

Sh!
FOURTH GAULAN

 

When we cross it, we reach an incline.

PENDYA

 

Yes. And you've got to climb a little.
MAVSHI

 

I said guiet!
FOURTH GAULAN

 

After climbing, we have to walk a bit .
3mm

(Interrupts) And then a little more .
MAVSHI

 

(Mimicking PENDYA) . . . And then you crawl a little further?
(Admonishing) Just keep quiet, will you?

255

FOURTH GAULAN

 

. . And after walking a little, there's a peepul tree . . .

PENDYA

 

Right! Exactly!
MAVSHI

 

Where are we? You're both getting me all confused.

PENDYA & KRISHNA

 

(To FOURTH GAULAN) And are we there . . . somewhere in the branches
of the tree?

MAVSHI

 

Ah! You know that tree.
PENDYA

 

Yes, because we generally sit beneath that tree for forty-two hours
every day.

KRISHNA
Stupid! Only twenty-four hours in a day.
PENDYA

 

Well, I only reversed the number and I got forty-two.
KRISHNA

That comes from all your gambling and playing with numbers. You
should get some education. An ignorant man has no hope in the world.
Why, today we can send men to the moon. You've got to keep up with
developments.

PENDYA

 

Okay. Next week I'll go to Mathura and I'll enroll in night school.
.And I'll teach the master. Whoops! I've reversed things again.

KRISHNA

Forget it now. Let the girl finish what she was saying.

256

FOURTH GAULAN

 

. . And around the peepul tree there's a circular bench.

MAVSHI

 

This is so touching! (Looking to the imaginary tree) I can see a
beautiful lady sitting there . . .

PENDYA

 

What's the matter with you? Why don't you let the Fourth Gaulan speak?
FOURTH GAULAN

 

. . . And in the branches of the tree, I see Krishna and his friend
Pendya.

w
What does she mean?

MAVSHI

 

She means you were sitting there selling something. . . . Look at
their clothes. (Looking to the ”tree.”)

PENDYA

 

I see him too. He looks just like a minister without portfolio.

MAVSHI

 

Yes. Just look at his face. He looks so well fed.

PENDYA

 

Krishna, this is an insult to us. Let's get their names.

FIRST GAULAN

 

Shakuntala!

SECOND GAULAN

 

Madhubala!
THIRD GAULAN

 

Zadpala. (Note: a tree with leaves)

257

FOURTH GAULAN.

 

Mandarmala! (Note: the title of a popular Marathi drama)

FIFTH GAULAN

 

Radhabala! (Radha is Krishna's beloved)

 

 

 

PENDYA
Mavshi, what about you?

MAVSHI
Vayajanti Mala!

PENDYA
Tell us your real name.

new

I can't do that until I tell you my husband's name.
EENDYA
Why is that?

MAVSHI

 

Because he's four years older than I am.

 

 

PENDYA
How do yeg know?
MAVSHI
Because I was there at the time of his birth. . . . No-no! I mean my
grandmother was there. -
PENDYA

 

(Starts the sentence for her in official manner) My husband's name
is . . .

MAVSHI

His name is Sri Bhausahib. But do you know what I call him? . . .
(She pretends to be shy)

258

more
Hurry up! Pay us our tax and then go.

mm
But we have no money.

PENDYA

 

Then you'll have to entertain us. Sing us a song and you'll be free
to go.

MAVSHI

 

Song? Listen.

Dance of the Gaulans.

Oh beautiful child of dark complexion.
Do not stop me, let me go home,

Or, there'll be trouble at home.

Please let me go!

You say you are the great lord Krishna.
Your name is loved by all.

How do you get along

With sixteen thousand milkmaids?

Tell me, explain this wonder.

The bank of the Kalindi River

Is a very pleasant place.

Why do you bar my way?

On my head, a heavy pot.

Don't stop me, or my husband will beat me,
And my mother-in-law will be angry,
Because work's not getting done,

And the baby will cry until I'm home.
Oh, don't play that flute of yours.
There's magic in it,

But your Radha's fed up with your magic.
Oh, why does love have no bounds?

PENDYA

 

Lovely, Auntie. Can any of your other milkmaids sing like you?

MAVSHI

 

Come on, Radha. Show him that you can sing.

(RADHA'S song and dance ends the
GAULAN segment. This is followed

259

by the MAHARASHTRA DARSHAN, 0r
GLIMPSES OF MARATHI FOLK ARTS.)

 

 

MAHARASHTRA DARSHAN

 

1. VASUDEV, THE DANCER-PREACHER

 

(Note: Through VASUDEV's performance, the principles of Bhagvad Dharma,
or the way of truth, are put to the people in simple language. Vasudev
is still a popular form in villages, where he educates in word and in
song about religion and about the world.)

 

(Characters are VASUDEV, PATIL, the
village head, and PATIL's DAUGHTER-
IN-LAW. An ANNOUNCER sets the
scene.)

ANNOUNCER

(To Audience) Now, Vasudev will play his role in this show. He's got
a pair of tiny cymbals, ohunqrus around his ankles . . . just like a
female Tamasha dancer. And on his head, colorful peacock feathers. He
may not look like a very intelligent man, but don't be fooled. . . .
He's a man of many talents. This is our village artist, but because of
his appearance, we mistake him for a begger. But, our Vasudev has
brought us some new message. (Setting the scene) And now, everyone,
it's sunrise. Look! There's the Patil's house. And there, in the
large courtyard, is the Patil's daughter-in-law. She's grinding grain.
Enter Vasudev, singing. The children in the house rush out to listen.

VASUDEV
(Singing)

Pay no attention to empty boasts.

Don't listen to cheap slogans,

And don't be frightened by the lion's roar.
Steel your mind! Be strong!

And take the name of Mahadev,

Take the name of God.

Our brothers are at the front,
Fighting for their lives.

Hold with them who trust in us,
By giving blood and wealth.

260

Many men will die.

Their women homeless made;

But in our hearts they'll live again.
And victory is yours . . .

Well, Patil, how did you like my song? A gift of grain? . . . A little
money? . .

PATIL

 

Yes, yes. Just a moment. (Calls to DAUGHTER-IN-LAW.) My dear? A
little something for Vasudev. It's been a long time since he's been
around.

DAUGHTER-IN-LAW

 

I'm coming. (She gives some grain to VASUDEV and waits to be blessed.)
VASUDEV
(Blessing) May you be blessed with eight children.

PATIL

 

What's that? This is a curse, not a blessing.
VASUDEV
No curse, but a blessing.

PATIL
A curse, I tell you! Why don't you bless her with the children she
desires? Eight is surely a curse.

VASUDEV
Ahah! Very well. (To DAUGHTER-IN-LAW) As many as you desire.

(NOTE: In Marathi, the traditional
blessing for women is ashta putra,
which means eight sons. In recent
years, the government family plan—
ning campaign has changed the
blessing to ishta pgtra, or, as
many sons as you desire. This has
been widely publicized.)

 

 

PATIL

 

No! No! Don't say, ”As many as you desire.” You should say, "Two are
(enough, and a third if you really must have more.”

261

VASUDEV

Oh, that reminds me. The other day, I was in somebody's office and
there was a notice-board with an advertisement about a large family
which couldn't make ends meet because there were too many children.
They had nothing to eat and were forced to beg for food. I'm just
telling you what was on the notice-board. Me? . . . I'm just a simple
man. Anyway, let's forget it. (To DAUGHTER-IN-LAW) What's your
husband's name? (DAUGHTER-IN-LAW can't speak because she is shy.)

Not the modern version, but his real Marathi name.

DAUGHTER-IN-LAW

 

Listen. We were sixteen of us under my father's wing. I was his pet.
When I was young I used to play in the forest. This worried father.
Father feared my short temper. I was very short-tempered, you know.
Father thought I'd never get married. He searched the whole village,
forgetting his own social position. Finally, he met my seventy-five-
year-old mother-in-law, who looked just like a goddess. She had a

nice son and I was soon betrothed. He's respected by the whole village
because of his wealth. Jayaji Rao is his name.

VASUDEV

What a fine name you've taken. (To PATIL) May I ask something more?
Just a little favor . . . five paise more? (Paise is India's smallest
unit of coinage.)

EALIL
All right, but tell me what will vou do with it?
VASUDEV
I'll use it for food.

PATIL

 

You probably earn five to ten rupees a day, don't you? (VASUDEV nods)
Surely, you manage to save some of it.

VASUDEV

Last year it went well. I worked three months and I saved two hundred
rupees. But it was stolen.

PATIL

 

But there's a better way. You can safely save your money at any post
office.

262

VASUDEV
Why put it in the post office? I'll never get it back.
PATIL

 

Of course you will. The money won't go into anybody's pocket. In
fact, you get a government-stamped receipt, and if you save your money
for five years, you even get some added interest.

VASUDEV
That sounds good.

PATIL

 

In your songs you said our brothers have gone to fight. But they
need rifles, tanks and canon. Where can we get this?

VASUDEV
Where? I'll tell you. America and Russia.

PATIL
That's just leading our country to destruction. You need wheat?
Approach America. Artillery? Try Russia. Is there a country left
in the world from which we haven't begged for something?

VASUDEV

What can we do? We haven't enough money.

PATIL

 

That's what I'm trying to tell you. If you open a savings account,
the country can make use of your money.

VASUDEV
Don't try to fool me. How can a country make use of my money?

PATIL

 

Not you alone. If we all save, then we can create industries which
will help us to become self-sufficient.

VASUDEV

But.what's in it for me if I save?

263

PATIL
Just let me tell you. There's quite a bit. Your money can help to
build schools and colleges. Your children can receive education there.
Some of your children may grow to be doctors, lawyers.

VASUDEV
Oh! My son will become the boss. And I'll be his father?

PATIL

 

But this will happen only if you do what I sav.
VASUDEV

Okay. Give me five paise more and I'll buy some tobacco. (Takes the
money offered to him and exits dancing. The others exit also, except
ANNOUNCER.)

ANNOUNCER

From what you all have seen here, you have surely noted the importance
to our country of family planning and small savings. Next on our program
is a beautiful lavani song and dance.

(A Lavani-Dancer enters and per-
forms a song-and-dance number.
The opening verse of the Lavani
text is quoted below.)

Walking gracefully along,

My figure attracts the young men's eyes,
They look at me and say:

"Ah! Someone great has come."

And when I stroll down village lanes,
Excitement grows with every step.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

2. WAGHYA-MURALI

 

(Waghya is a male child dedicated to Khandoba, the god of war. Muralis
are female devotees. Both devote their lives to this god and entertain
his disciples with dances and music. The custom of dedicating children
in this way is now banned.)

(Characters are: WAGHYA, a village
PATIL, and ANNOUNCER.)

264

ANNOUNCER

And now, our Waghya-Murali. They are the disciples of Khandoba, god
of war, but they're bringing us some new kind of message. I can see
something going on in the village. There! In the courtyard of the

Patil's house! Let's see what Waghya is saying.

PATIL

—-_—-——-o

Come on, Waghya.

WAGHYA

 

Coming. (He dances and sings a song)

I came to the watering place

Where you're hiding,

Spying on me from a distance.

And now you've hit me with a pebble.
My earthen pot is broken.

I'm a girl just come of age.
You're a highwayman,

Stopping innocent girls,
Stealing their affections.
What a profession you've made!
You've stolen my heart.

Now, my body's all wet.

My young body trembles.

Why did you hit me with a pebble?
PATIL

Today's program should be a good one.

 

WAGHYA
It can be.

BELLE
Why?

meme
Because I'm starving.

PATIL

 

liaven't I given you enough already?

ill 411 '7 'ill :71.

265

w
Not enough.

81111.1;
How can you say that?

WAGHYA

 

Because I have a single wife and eight children. . . . And a ninth is
on the way.

PATIL
Stop! Stop the train! That's too many.
WAGHYA

Train? That was god's gift! There's nothing we mortals can do about
it.

PATIL

 

This is why our country's in such a mess. Children! That's the only
business that grows.

WAGHYA
But isn't the government asking us to grow more?

PATIL

 

Not in this field. They're talking about growing more food. And we've
got enough mouths to feed as it is. As it is, sixty-four thousand new
children are being born every day in India.

WAGHYA

 

Nothing wrong with that. Some of them must be dying at birth.
PATIL

 

Some. About twenty-eight thousand of them die every day. That still
leaves thirty-six thousand who survive and go on eating and growing.
So, today is thirty-six thousand, and tomorrow is also thirty-six
thousand, and . . .

WAGHYA

 

Stop! Stop! Enough!

266

PATIL

 

At this rate, we soon won't have any place to live and nothing to eat.
Why don't you go and see a doctor? Nine children indeed!

WAGHYA

 

I'm scared of doctors.

PATIL

Then send your wife.

(Song)

(This segment ends with a song and
dance)

WAGHYA AND PATIL

 

The mountain peak is shining.
Sun's up! Let's take our meal,
And go down to the farm,

Where the fields are as green
As the shining emeralds

Beneath the early rays,

And ears of corn

Sway in the breeze.

To left and right, the crops are rich.
Wake up, dear farmer!

Wealth knocks at your door.

The morning breeze is cool.
Come on, wake up, dear farmer!

(This song ends the program for
shorter performances; but longer
shows continue with the following
segment.)

3. VAG: TALATHI AND THE SOCIAL WORKER

 

(Characters are TALATHI and
SARPANCH, village chiefs; PATIL;
KOTWAL, a lesser village officer;
MOHAN, the Dholki player; HIRA
and HAUNSA, Tamasha dancers;
SADASHIV, a villager, and the
SOCIAL WORKER.)

267

TALATHI
(Greeting SOCIAL WORKER) Hello. Where is the meeting today?
SOCIAL WORKER

 

At the Sarpanch's house.
TALATHI
Why is it being held there?
SOCIAL WORKER

 

Because today is special. His son is to be named. And since we're
all invited to the ceremony, we might as well meet there.

TALATHI
We should take a gift. Can't go empty-handed.
SOCIAL WORKER

 

What can we take this year? It's his eleventh child, you know. Why
not a sealed envelope with nothing inside?

 

TALATHI
Good. I was going to give five rupees.

SOCIAL WORKER

 

Waste of money. Let's go!

(They move around the stage.
SARAPANCH waits at his door.)

TALATHI AND SOCIAL WORKER

 

(Greeting SARPANCH) Hi.
SARPANCH

Ah, it's good to see you. (To SOCIAL WORKER) First, we'll have the
meeting, and then we'll break off for lunch.

SOCIAL WORKER

 

Fine. I'm ready.

268

SARPANCH

Let's begin. Whatever we decided last time has been carried out.
(To SOCIAL WORKER) I hope it's done.

SOCIAL WORKER

 

Yes. The sand and gravel have been piled along the roadside. All we
need is the steamroller. Also, the supports for the new school are in
place, and bricks and stones have been brought to the site. Only the
walls and the roof remain to be done. We're almost finished. As for
the hospital, the medical staff has arrived. They're staying at the

temple. All we have to do now is hire a contractor to build the hospital.

SARPANCH
Wonderful! Everything's being done so swiftly.

SOCIAL WORKER

 

I've got some submissions here. Here's one from our school headmaster.
He says that every day more and more children are being educated. Last
year, two hundred and fifty children received education in our school,
and this year, the figure may reach four hundred. More each year. We
should build a new school, he suggests. Ten classrooms measuring twenty
by twenty.

SARPANCH
Send the request to the District Board.
SOCIAL WORKER

 

Second submission is from the doctor. Number of patients growing
daily. In a four-month period, the number went from fifteen to a
hundred. He recommends hiring an assistant physician. Also, he hopes
the hospital will soon be built.

SARPANCH
This can also go to the District Board.

SOCIAL WORKER

 

Third submission. The government food-distribution shopkeeper. He
needs more grain. Population growing too fast for our food allotment.

SARPANee

 

I'll handle this myself. I'll see the government food officer. Very
important matter. This business never seems to come to an end. We

269

build a school and then it becomes too small. We made good plans for
a small hospital, but I can already see it will be too small by the
time it's ready.

SOCIAL WORKER

 

That's true. Something must be done.
SARPANCH
And soon.

SOCIAL WORKER

 

Here comes the Kotwal.
KOTWAL

I've got some people outside who want to meet you. Mohan the dholki-
player and Hira the Tamasha dancer.

SARPANCH

Ah! Good. Good. The right time. Ask them to come in. (KOTWAL
brings MOHAN and HIRA) Welcome. Glad to see you. (To KOTWAL) Make
arrangements for the accommodation of the artists, will you? (To
HIRA) This meeting is too serious and weighty. We need some pleasant
diversion. Will you sing us a song?

(MOHAN begins playing on the
dholki and HIRA dances and
sings a lavani)

HIRA

(Song)

He came to my door.

His looks pleased me.

He came to the ceremony

With a coconut in his hand.

You cast a magic spell by giving it to me.
You made me feel so silly.

Really! This is your great talent!

Seeing you, my heart began to pound,

And you won me over.

Let me tell you a secret,

And don't forget my words:

You don't know what kind of magic you did,
But we'll soon be reaping the fruit.
Really! This is your great talent!

270

I was twenty-one for the first,

And twenty-five for the fifth;

But now you've gone away

Leaving us to face what comes.

Your children shout your name,

And I sit just helplessly,

Still hoping you'll return.

Really! This is your great talent!

SOCIAL WORKER

 

Look! She's also brought out the same problem in her song. He goes
out for pleasure and his family's left behind. (To HIRA) Have you found
him yet?

HIR

That's why I've come here. I want to lodge a complaint. Either you
find my husband, or you look after the kids.

SARPAN_Cll_

 

Who? Us? What are you saying?

SOCIAL WORKER

 

Is all this true. . . . What you were singing about?

HIRA

 

Of course it's true, because I've given up my art. That's what happens
to all Tamasha girls. When we have children, it's all over for singing
and dancing.

PATIL

 

True. True. Once the audience knows a dancer's got children, they
frown on her.

HIRA
That's what happened to my elder sister. In her prime, she'd get a
hundred rupees a night, but when it was learned she had children, the
gifts and praises ended. She had to give it all up.

PATIL

What's she doing now?

271

HIRA

 

She sells food at a bus-stop and earns thirty, maybe forty, a day.
Strange, eh? First they rushed to her because of her artistry, and
now they rush to her because of her hot potato patties.

PATIL

Yes. People are really strange.

(HAUNSA enters; all eyes turn to
her)

we}:
Ah, there you are! (Looking to TALATHI) I thought so! Let's go home.

TALATHI
(To HAUNSA) You go. I'll be home soon.

HAUNSA

 

What's the matter? Are you ashamed of Me? Why don't we let everyone
know about it? . . .

PATIL

First tell me who you are. (To TALATHI) Who is she?
TALATHI

I'm her husband and she's my wife, by marriage. You were there for
our wedding.

PATIL

But I was there to see the other ladies. All right, now. What's the
problem?

HAUNSA

 

Listen, and then pass judgment.

(Song)

I am his wife by marriage.

He's such a husband!

You five officers ask him . . .
Since the day we got married

He's never bought me a single sari.

(Sings)

(Sings)

(Sings)

272

Ask, if it's true or not!

He roams about without a job,

And tells fine stories to everyone.
How is he supposed to feed us?

It got so bad he almost killed us.
He says he's going mad.

You five gods . .

(Now TALATHI sings in reply)
TALATHI

Patil, don't listen to her.

We've enough to eat at home;

But her thoughts are with her father's house:
Her body's here, her soul is there.

You five gods . . . ask if it's true or not.

(HAUNSA sings her reply)
HAUNSA

 

Such fine tales!

His house is almost empty,

But at my father's home

Horses, cattle and bullocks roam.
Even his mother is sheltered here.
You five gods . . .

TALATHI

Patil, you know the truth.
Her father is my uncle.
I was forced to marry her.

PATIl_._

I still can't understand your problem.

TALATHI

(To HAUNSA) Why don't you go home?

HAUNSA

 

But I want to know!

273

TALATHI

(To PATIL) Then, listen to me, Patil. She can't have a child. . . .
That's the real problem.

PATIL

So. What are me_supposed to do? We haven't yet established a depart-
ment for such troubles. Have you tried praying? Let me tell you about
my father. He was desperate to have children. So he went to temple

at Pandharpur and sat in the doorway determined not to leave until his
prayers were answered. Well, he waited not only for the next month
period but three long years. Then, one day he got a cable from his
wife saying she had given birth to a son. He was so happy that before
going back to his home, he made special offerings to God. You know,

of course, that I'm that son.

SOCIAL WORKER

 

The older generation really believed in God. But the youth today have
lost the faith.

(From backstage, shouts of "Leave

me!" “Leave me. )

KOTWAL

 

(Runs on stage) I'm dead! Dead! Save me!

SOCIAL WORKER

 

Calm down. Relax. Who's dead?
(SADASHIV enters)
SADASHIV
Me! I've come to tell you that this Kotwal wouldn't let me in here.
we.

No arguments, please. Today is a special day. The naming ceremony
for my son.

SADASHIV
What does that matter to me? My wife has just killed herself.
PATIL

Is that true? Did you do it?

274

SADASHIV

Why should I want to kill my wife? Oh, misery! When the ninth child
was born, the doctor said she wouldn't survive a tenth. But it happened.
When she found out she was pregnant, she said it would be better to die
beforehand. And so she jumped into a well. I heard the noise. I went
to see what the trouble was but I was too late to help her.

PATIL

What will you do now? At least she's saved from your hands. Now you
can look after your nine kids.

SOCIAL WORKER

 

(To audience) What you've seen here is not so strange. It happens
every day. At the least, there's a lesson to be learned. You can draw
your own conclusions. (He sings)

Listen to my story, remember it well,
Unemployment and poverty are everywhere.
We have come upon bad times.

The land, once golden, has turned to mud.

Do you see how bad the times are?
Do you want to make them right?

We'll have a better future,
If you think of family planning . . .
Tonight!

SARPANCH

It's true!

SOCIAL WORKER

 

(To SADASHIV) All right. But first you better prepare yourself to
meet the police.

(THE END)

APPENDIX C

A SAMPLE PROPAGANDA TAMASHA SCRIPT FOR ELECTION

PUBLICITY: WE MUST WIN THIS TIME

 

275

APPENDIX C

A SAMPLE PROPAGANDA TAMASHA SCRIPT FOR ELECTION
PUBLICITY: WE MUST WIN THIS TIME

 

The script reproduced here in English adaptation from the
original Marathi was written by Jagdish Khebudkar of Kolhapur for the
Ruling Congress Party of Bombay and was intended for production in the
1971 mid—term national election campaign. The script has not been
published and there are no copyright restrictions governing its repro-

duction here. Translation and adaptation: Nilima Vaidya and Tevia

Abrams.

1: GAN-GAULAN

 

(Enter SHAHIR and his accompanists,
followed by SONGADYA)

SONGADYA

(To SHAHIR) What are you doing here?

SHAHIR

 

Don't you know? Bov, you're behind the times! Haven't you a clue
about what's happening?

SONGADYA

You tell me. Wherever I turn, there's a meeting. People gathering
everywhere.

SHAHIR

Anci the shahirs (poets) are there singing about the elections.
SONGADYA

Eleecrtions? Ah! I thought they were praying or begging or something.

276

277

SHAHIR

Well, they pray too . . . in order to satisfy the gods. Why don't we
do the same and seek their blessings?

SONGADYA

All right. Let's try a gem, One that will please the gods as well
as the people.

SHAHIR

 

All right. Let's go! (He prepares to sing.)
(Enter two dholki players)

Ganesha, I'm praying to you.
Listen to me,

Come to us in human form,
And bless us.

You're fond of art,

And this is just for you.

I hope it's appropriate,
Please inspire us,

The bonds between us are immortal.
We are ready to serve you,
Just support us always,

This is what we ask.

SONGADYA
The gee_sounded fine. But how do we know what the Ganesha answered?

SHAHIR

 

How can anybody know that right away? You've got to wait for an
answer--right or left.

SONGADYA

Hey! Don't use those words. They smell of politics and politics
reminds me of color . . . Red.

SHAHIR

 

Well, what color do you like best?
SONGADYA

White! Pure white.

278

SHAHIR

 

That's no color!
SONGADYA
Actually, I like three colors, counting red.

SHAHIR

 

Which?
SONGADYA

Orange on top. White in the middle. And green on the bottom. This
gives me a peaceful feeling. (Pause) Our flag.

SHAHIR

 

Look over there. (Points forward) Something's happening. What kind
of peaceful feeling is that?

SONGADYA
What? Have we come to Calcutta?

SHAHIR

 

No. Gokul. This is the place where Krishna and the Gopis lived.
SONGADYA
Then, it must be the election campaign. I hear Krishna's coming to
make his choice among the gaulans. The milkmaids have mounted a campaign
and they're all fighting about which one's better. This one says, “I'm
good, she's bad, elect me.” And others say the same.
SHAfllfi
Who do you think Krishna's going to elect?
SONGADYA
No time for discussion. Here come the gaulans.

(Enter gaulans dancing)

SHAHIR

 

Why are they just dancing like that?

279

SONGADYA

It's not dancing. It's campaigning. Come on, let's break it up. You
pretend you're Krishna and I'll be your buddy Pendya.

SHAHIR

 

I'm ready.
SONGADYA
Alright. One . . . two . . . three!

(SONGADYA raises his hand
imperiously before the dancing
GAULANS. They stop dancing.
MAVSHI, or Auntie is their
leader. She is played tradi-
tionally by a man dressed in

 

 

a eeel.)
PENDYA
Who are you?
MAVSHI
Who do you think I am?
PENDYA

 

Don't be cheeky! Krishna's asked me to stand here.

MAVSHI

 

What are you standing for? And what's your symbol?

PENDYA

 

Whatever you like, but my name is Pendya.

MAVSHI

 

So! You're Pendya.

FIRST GAULAN

 

(To MAVSHI) He's nobody to be scared of, auntie.

SECOND GAULAN

 

Let's push him aside and move on.

280

THIRD GAULAN

 

Yes. There's no need to be afraid of him. But you must show some
respect.

MAVSHI

 

Respect? What for?

THIRD GAULAN

 

Because he's the people's representative.

SECOND GAULAN

 

Then, what are we supposed to do?

THIRD GAULAN

 

First, we should apologize for being rude.

FIRST GAULAN

 

Why?
THIRD GAULAN

 

Because, my dear, your future is in his hands.

MAVSHI

 

How's that?

PENDYA

 

You see, Krishna is all set today to elect some of the gaulans. He's
going to do some special test and he's asked you all to stand in a
single line.

MAVSHI

 

But he won't be able to judge properly if we just stand in a line.

FIRST AND SECOND GAULAN

 

Right. She's right.
THIRD GAULAN

 

(To FIRST and SECOND) Then what do you suggest?

281

FIRST AND SECOND GAULAN

 

We can plan a propaganda campaign.

THIRD GAULAN

 

That's an idea. But you ought to make sure you won't end up condemning
each other.

MAVSHI

 

We'll see to that.

PENDYA

 

There he is, ladies. Krishna himself.

(As KRISHNA enters, GAULANS begin
to move in a circle around the

 

stage.)

KRISHNA
Pendya, who are these ladies?

PENDYA
Your candidates.

KRISHNA
'Ah! Then they ought to be tested.

PENDYA

 

Why not a little enjoyment before your work?
KRISHNA

Good idea. (To GAULANS) Who are you, ladies? Where are you going?
And why are you waiting around here?

MAVSHI

 

(To THIRD GAULAN) Look! He's already cross—examining us.
SECOND GAULAN

 

(To KRISHNA) We're all gaulans.

1': 1.." I Ill-ll H Ill:

282

FIRST GAULAN

 

We're going to Mathura to sell milk, curds, butter and butter-milk.

PENDYA

 

In that case, you're obliged to pay taxes.
KRISHNA

Pendya! You look after each of these gaulans!
8.9.1.015

(To GAULANS) Okay, ladies! What've you got?

SECOND GAULAN

 

Me? I've got curds.

PENDYA

 

Why is the color red?

SECOND GAULAN

 

Because the milk burned.

PENDYA

 

(To KRISHNA) She's got curds. But they're red in color.
KRISHNA
Hold a deposit and exact a heavy tax.

PENDYA

 

(To FIRST GAULAN) And what've you got?

FIRST GAULAN

 

I've got butter.

PENDYA

 

Why is the color black?

FIRST GAULAN

 

Because I'm dark.

283

PENDYA

(To KRISHNA) This one's got butter. Color's black. And it looks
stale.

KRISHNA

Tell her there's no market for black butter.

 

 

PENDYA
(To MAVSHI) What do you have?

MAVSHI
Buttermilk.

PENDYA

 

Yellow buttermilk? And why is it mixed with so much water?
KRISHNA

Pendya! Take a big slice of tax on that one! (Looks around) Who's
left?

PENDYA

 

(Looking to THIRD GAULAN) This one. What've you got?

THIRD GAULAN

 

Plain white milk.

PENDYA

 

(To KRISHNA) I think she's an honest milkmaid.

THIRD GAULAN

 

That's because we truly and faithfully serve the public.

PENDYA

 

Look, Krishna. Even her thoughts are pure and good.
KRISHNA

Let her go, tax-free.

284

MAVSHI

 

(To THIRD GAULAN) You've got some kind of influence with him. That's
not good. Your innocent looks are spoiling it for the rest of us.
(To KRISHNA) This is not a fair election!

PENDYA

 

Are you standing for election yourself?

FIRST GAULAN

 

Don't say anything against her!

SECOND GAULAN

 

(To PENDYA) Another word against Mavshi and I'll pour all my curds
over you.

KRISHNA

Don't fight with them, Pendya. I've got an idea. (To GAULANS) Each
of you state your case, and I'll choose the best story.

MAVSHI

 

Agreed. Let's begin.

PENDYA

 

(To SECOND GAULAN) What's your name?
SECOND GAULAN

 

My name is Red.

PENDYA

 

Red?
SECOND GAULAN

 

Yes. Because everybody likes this color at home.
PENDYA
How many people at your home?

SECOND GAULAN

 

Five. They're all called comrades. There are more, but they're abroad
right now.

285

PENDYA

Where?

SECOND GAULAN

 

In Russia. They're earning money.
imam
What will you do if Krishna elects you?

SECOND GAULAN

 

I'll nationalize all the cows. And I'll put them all into government
barns. And all the milkmen and milkmaids will work for the government.
They'll work and earn on a fair basis. Those who don't agree will go
without.

PENDYA-

 

And what about the milk?
SECOND GAULAN

 

It will be stored in the government dairy. Those who need it can come
to get their quarter-liter per day.

PEnnye_
And what will you do with Krishna?

SECOND GAULAN

 

His rights as a god will be taken away, because I don't believe in
gods, his kingdom will be confiscated, and he'll be obliged to seek
work in the government dairy.

KRISHNA
Pendya, throw her out of India!

PENDYA

 

(To SECOND GAULAN) Did you hear him? You better not show your face
aCHSIH. (Pushes her offstage; to FIRST GAULAN) What's your name?

(PENDYA pushes SECOND GAULAN
offstage)

(11) FIRST GAULAN) What's your name?

.n .111: Ill. 1]! II '7! il

286

FIRST GAULAN

 

Miss Yellow, if you please, sir.
PENDYA
How many in your family?

FIRST GAULAN

 

Two.

PENDYA

 

What will you do if Krishna elects you?

FIRST GAULAN

 

I'll make everybody in society equal in height.

PENDYA

 

How will you do that?
FIRST GAULAN

 

I'll line everybody up and I'll cut the legs off those who are too tall.
That will make everybody equal.

PENDYA
And what about the cows?

FIRST GAULAN

 

Equal distribution to the people.
PENDYA

 

And what about Krishna?

FIRST GAULAN

 

His kingdom will also be distributed equally among the people.

PENDYA

 

And Krishna himself? His hands, legs, feet . . .
KRISHNA

That's enough. This one ought to be banished.

287

(PENDYA rushes FIRST GAULAN off-
stage, then turns to MAVSHI)

Now, what's your name?

 

mew.
Old Black!

PENDYA
What a funny name!

Mill.

Yes. You see, my family holds old ideas.
REM
Then why is your second name Black?
teem.
Because we oppose the Whites.

PENDYA

 

What will you do if Krishna elects you?

MAVSHI

 

I'll make a law that all milkmaids should pray to the cow every day.
Only milkmen and milkmaids will be allowed to live in our community.
Everybody else will be forced to leave.

PENDYA
What will you do to Krishna?

MAVSHI

 

I'll send him to bed and I'll look after everything.
KRISHNA

Pendya, tell her to come back when her heart grows to be as big as
her body is now.

(MAVSHI exits)

288

PENDYA

 

(To THIRD GAULAN) What's your name?
THIRD GAULAN

 

Miss Radha White. (RADHA is KRISHNA's love) I'll give up my life in
the service of Krishna. I'll share all his joys and his sorrows.

KRISHNA
I'm pleased with you. I represent the Indian public.

THIRD GAULAN

 

And I, the Ruling Congress Party.

(All three sit and join hands.)

(END OF GAULAN)

LAVANI SONG

 

(All Sing)

How are you, Red Brother?

Is it true what people say?

Yesterday, it seems, you went to Russia,
And you had some secret talks.

Aren't you ashamed

Of all this devotion

To a foreign country?

Yesterday, it seems, you began some struggles:
The raids spread quickly out of hand.

You plundered and you murdered--

Maybe that's what you like,

But why do you want the people's votes?

Yesterday, it seems, you attended a meeting,
And said some nasty things:

You shouted till your voice gave out.

Why are you standing for elections?

Your faith lies beyond our borders,

A blot on the nation's pride.

At least that's what people are saying,

So don't be angry when they call you traitor.

289

2: FARCE
(Enter TATYARAO and APPAJI)

em
I can't see a thing!

5335
Are you blind?

TATYA

 

Ah, it's you! Where are you going?

 

 

APPA
To your house.

TATYA
What for?

AREA

To straighten something out. I'd like to know what all this chaos is
about.

IBIXA
Elections.

meg
But it's early for that.

TATYA

 

No way out. Parliament was split.

APPA

-—..——.—--

What happened?

TATYA

 

Because the Supreme Court didn't accept the government's ending of
the princely purses.

290

APPA
What was wrong with what the government did? These young Maharajahs
are living off properties their forefathers had earned. And today
they sit around while the poor starve to death.

TATYA

Right. But nobody understands that. God knows what the Court thought
when they sat in judgment against the government.

APPA
This should never have happened.

TATYA

 

Maybe it's a good thing. Because it shows that some of the criticisms
about Indira are unfounded. For example, they say she's lusting after
power.

APPA
If that's true, she wouldn't have dissolved parliament.

TATYA

 

That's what I mean. Indira's lust is not for power. She's after a
better society. Just let her win this election and she'll put a ten-
point plan into immediate action.

APPA

Plans! We've had so many in the past. But not one of them has
helped the poor.

TATYA

 

Thoughts are free, Appa. But we should judge by what we see before
our eyes. Congress has already done much for the poor.

APPA
Other parties can do the same. All of them have plans.

TATYA

 

Then, why are they so far behind?
APPA

Well, just let any one of them get elected.

291

TATYA

 

We have some ideas about that. What about the elections of the past?
APPA
Economic problems!

TATYA-

 

What did that have to do with anything? If you want to winvotes, you
have to win minds.

APPA
But this time, it'll be difficult.
‘ TATYA

 

Why?

APPA

Because you Congress people have changed your symbol. The bullock-
cart was useful only for the farmer. The new symbol of the cow and

the calf applies to all classes of society. Cow stands for the New
Congress and the calf is the public. Truth will not die. The majority
will be ours.

APPA

We'll see what happens. The time is not far off.

(END OF FARCE)

3: DRAMATIC VAG

 

(Home of the wealthy old lady,
DESHMAMI, who symbolizes the
aunt to the entire nation.)

DESHMAMI
(To her servant) Nirbhalya! (He enters) Where's our accountant?

Must speak to him! Absolutely! Some things are going to be changed
around this house, and I must speak to him.

292

NIRBHALYA
But you just got rid of him the other day. (The accountant referred
to is Shri Chavan, who was ousted from Indira's Cabinet but later
brought back because of his personal power. This yeg_is an attempt
at an "explanation” of this action.)

DESHMAMI

Certain things he did weren't right. Divanji's behaviour seemed to
rub this household the wrong way.

NIRBHALYA
Was that the only reason for kicking him out?

DESHMAMI
Well . . . You can't go against the majority, you know. If you want
to keep the trust of those around you, you sometimes have to sacrifice
even the truth.

(Enter DIVANJI, the accountant)

DIVANJI
Absolutely correct, Deshmami! It doesn't matter whether it's your house
or the whole country . . . if a man is right for the job, that's all
that's important.

NIRBHALYA
Who ever said you weren't the right man?

DIVANJI
It doesn't matter. Those who wanted to do me in have already said it.

NIRBHALYA

It must have been some silly misunderstanding. Your place is here . . .
with us.

DIVANJI

lee_can say it. But what's the point if nobody else around here feels
the way you do?

NIRBHALYA

Everybody feels sorry, and they go 'round asking why such a faithful
man should be kicked out.

293

DESHMAMI
Well, it isn't just a one-sided story. People are still divided.
NIRBHALYA

(To DESHMAMI) Then it's up to you to explain his virtues. But right
now, let him come back to work.

DESHMAMI

I can't. The household wouldn't hear of it. The best thing I can do
is to hold an election for the post.

NIRBHALYA
Oh-oh. Then Divanji's sure not to get his job back.
DIVANJI

Why not? I've got the right to stand as a candidate. . . . Haven't I?
I may even be elected again. (To DESHMAMI) I'm leaving now. But I
promise when I return it will be as a candidate.

DESHMAMI

(To NIRBHALYA) You might leak this information to the newspapers.
Also, let word of this election spread through the town. Then, prepare
for elections.

(She exits)
NIRBHALYA

What a squeeze I'm in! Between this lady and those candidates. . . .
I can never see the light.

(Moves around the stage, spreading
word through the town. People
gather round him.)
Listen everybody. Our Deshmami has kicked out Divanji. A new
appointment must be made. Anybody interested in applying for the
post, please fill out the election forms.
ONE MAN
Ah! Elections! Can I participate?

SECOND MAN

 

If you're sure to win, you can. Otherwise you lose your deposit.

294

(All exit and reappear in a group
at the home of DESHMAMI. There
are candidates holding flags in
their hands. Enter DESHMAMI.)

DESHMAMI
Welcome, everybody!
NIRBHALYA

If our Divanji is anywhere in your midst, please ask him to come
forward.

FIRST CANDIDATE

 

What for? Do you like him so much?

SECOND CANDIDATE

 

Then why did you kick him out in the first place?
THIRD CANDIDATE

 

Then just give him back his job.
FOURTH CANDIDATE

 

Why did you bother to hold an election in the first place? Look at
all the trouble we went through. (All start shouting.)

DIVANJI
Candidates really shouldn't be shouting like that. They're supposed
to be leaders of our society. If we don't follow normal rules and
regulations, then we don't have any business standing here at all.

NIRBHALYA

You're right.

FIRST CANDIDATE

 

Hah! Anybody can make such pious declarations.
DESHMAMI

Alright. What do yeg_have to say for yourself? What plan have you
got to improve this house?

295

FIRST CANDIDATE

 

Equal rights . . . equal money. Nobody will be poor and nobody will
be,rich.

SECOND CANDIDATE

 

Don't listen to him. Whatever he says is false.
DESHMAMI

(To SECOND CANDIDATE) Your behaviour just now is quite improper for
ege_house. I doubt if you'll be of much use.

SECOND CANDIDATE

 

Not true! You'll regret these words. I may shorten your lifespan.
. Why, I may even cut off your head!

NIRBHALYA
You can do what you like outside this house.
(Pushes SECOND CANDIDATE offstage)

THIRD CANDIDATE

 

What a mess! (Looks around) Anyway, I should put forth my own
proposals. So . . . here goes. Ah . . . old is gold. That's what
I think.

DESHMAMI
Sorry. We don't want anybody with old ideas. The world is changing
too quickly . . . and my house must keep up with the times. Now,
tell me honestly. Have you got any eem_plans?

THIRD CANDIDATE

 

New plans do nothing but deceive the people. My views are valid for
all time. They will do the most good. You must therefore elect me.

oEsmme

You'll never get elected by forcing the electorate to your will. 00
you think you're the only one with good plans? (Shakes her head
negatively) This won't do at all. (To DIVANJI) Now you can speak
for yourself.

296

DIVANJI
Me? I've nothing to say. I could note that I'll carry on whatever
good I've done before. No promises I can't keep. First, I'll do my
duty. . . . And if the people will have me, I'll serve them again.

CROWD

 

He's right! Elect him! We want the old Divanji back!
W
Alright. I declare Divanji elected.

(All rejoice and sing a lavani
song.)

Beware, you voters:

Don't lose this chance!

Don't forget to use your vote!

This party's as concerned as you

About the future of the nation.

So, get behind us everyone!

Don't give up hope!

Our hearts are filled with the people's good,
Don't give in to false promises.

We can face up to our opponants,

So, please keep faith with us.

Everyone tells his own story

In order to gain the popular vote;

But there are many lies in the telling.
So, don't go by words alone.

The other parties envy Congress,

Because by serving man we're serving God--
Don't sell out your precious vote!

THE END

APPENDIX D

SCENES FROM A MODERN “SOPHISTICATED” TAMASHA: KATHA

AKALECHYA KANDYACHI (”A TALE OF THE ONION OF

 

INTELLIGENCE”) BY SHANKAR PATIL

297

APPENDIX D

SCENES FROM A MODERN "SOPHISTICATED"TAMASHA: KATHA
AKALECHYA KANDYACHI ("A TALE OF THE ONION 0F
INTELEIGENCE") BY SHANKAR PATIL

The original Marathi script, written by Shankar Patil, with
songs by Kavi (poet) Sanjiv, was first produced at Bhave Natya Mandir,
in Sangli, on September 14, 1967. It ran for several hundred perform-
ances throughout Maharashtra. The full-length script was published
by Prapanch Publishers, Poona, January, 1969, and the copyright is
held by Mr. Patil.

Although a full-length English version has been translated
and adapted by Nilima Vaidya and Tevia Abrams, with permission from
the copyright-holder, the present shortened version was selected for
inclusion here as an example of how a Tamasha might be presented to
audiences in America. In fact, an experimental production was directed
by the adaptor at Michigan State University in October, 1971, for a
benefit entertainment in aid of Bangladesh refugees in India. The
production featured Maharashtrian musicians and American actors in

Maharashtrian dress.

298

299

SCENES FROM

KATHA AKALECHYA KANDYACHI

 

(”A TALE OF THE ONION OF INTELLIGENCE")

in Maharashtrian Tamasha folk theatre style

by

Shankar Patil

C by Shankar Patil, 1969

Translation and Adaptation

by

Nilima Vaidya and Tevia Abrams

(By special permission from Shankar Patil)

3OO

CHARACTERS

SONGADYA, (Jester)--found in most tamasha troupes.
TATERAO

AUNTIE, who always accompanies the Milkmaids, and is played
traditionally by a male actor dressed in a sari.

TWO YOUNG MILKMAIDS (called Gaulans in Marathi)

 

STAGE MANAGER

 

AVCHITRAO, central character

eelpg, his father-in-law

CHANDANI, AVCHITRAO's wife, and dancer in the troupe
JASWANDI, wife to SONGADYA

flee, who locates the lost AVCHITRAO

QQElQB, with tool kit

TWO VISITORS to AVCHITRAO, the political leader

 

EDITOR
SECRETARY to AVCHITRAO, the political leader
FEMALE ADMIRER to AVCHITRAO the political leader

 

TWO EXTRAS

 

301

(Stage is dark, SONGADYA enters)
SONGDAYA

Lights! Turn on the lights, will you? (Lights on stage come up)
That's better. (Claps hands, looks to wings) Okay, everyone!
Onstage! (Claps hands) Come on!

(Entire cast moves onstage, includ-
ing musicians, and they all proceed
to organize themselves with instru-
ments, makeup equipment, bags of
food, chairs, making loud noises,
dholki-player practising, etc.)

SONGDAYA

(To cast) Hurry it up, you guys! (To audience) This is Tamasha . . .
the folk theatre form of Maharashtra State, India. Tonight, we
recreate for you a slice ofkhharashtrianfpn and satire. (Musical
fanfare) Me? I'm Songadya . . . the clowning master-of-ceremony in

any Tamasha troupe. A typical troupe is made of musicians, a dancer

or two, a couple of singers and a few actors. A musical Tamasha troupe
may have six to ten performers. A dramatic troupe averages a dozen

to fifteen performers. A lot of troupes in Maharashtra. More than
five hundred. Performers? . . . About ten thousand. But if you count
their wives, husbands, lovers, children, parents, grandparents, uncles
and brothers and sisters . . . then you've got about fifty thousand
people who depend for a living upon . . . Tamasha! They're always on
the move, these troupes . . . playing the villages, towns and cities

of Maharashtra. The State's population is fifty million and a majority
of the people live in some thirty-eight thousand villages. To give

you the flavor of the folk form, we're going to do some scenes from

one of the more sophisticated Tamashas . . . A Tale of the Onion of
Intelligence . . . by the contemporary Marathi writer, Shankar Patil

. . translated and adapted for English production by Nilima Vaidya
and Tevia Abrams. The form of the work is a traditional one. It begins
with a brief musical invocation to the elephant god, Ganesha. This is
called the gee, and it's followed by the Gaulan, or play of Krishna

and the milkmaids. This is a short, saucy encounter and very secular,
with songs and dances tossed in. After the eee_and Gaulan segments,
the drama or yeg_begins. And now, through the magic of cutting and
editing, let's assume the gee or invocation has just ended. There are
two characters onstage. (Lights fade up as TATERAO enters and music
stops.) Taterao . . . That's him. (Pointing to TATERAO) . . . And
Songadya . . . That's me.

 

 

 

TATERAO

That's it. The invocation is finished.

302

SONGADYA

Now we need something more substantial to fill the belly. Where are
the milkmaids? (SONGADYA gets down on hands and knees and puts his
ear to the ground.)

TATERAO

What are you doing?
SONGADYA

Listening for their footsteps . . . Ah! Our breakfast is coming.
TATERAO

(Gets up.) We'll stop them. There'll be lots of fresh milk for sure.

(Enter TWO MILKMAIDS and AUNTIE.
SONGADYA stops them.)

 

SONGADYA
Stop! Stop!

AUNTIE
What is it?

sesame
What group is this?

AUNTIE

 

None of your business, young man.

TATERAO
(To SONGADYA) They're milkmaids. Can't you tell?
SONGADYA

But: they're wearing ankle-bells. I thought they belonged to some
‘theatre troupe.

AUNTIE

 

We . . . are . . . milkmaids!

303

w
We've been waiting for you.

FIRST MILKMAID

 

Why? What's wrong?
SONGADYA

Nothing. I'll come right to the point. Got any milk?
AUNTIE

 

Well, we're just on our way to the market at Mathura. Anyway, who do
you think you are, asking for milk?

w
Me? I'm Krishna's under-secretary. (Points to TATERAO) And this
man is Krishna's personal secretary. And now, lady, let's have the
milk.

AUNTIE

 

Milk? We haven't got any.

SONGADYA

 

No lies. Milkmaids always have milk.

AUNTIE

 

But I'm telling the truth.
TATERAO
(To SONGADYA) Don't listen to her. Seize their belongings.

AUNTIE

 

You don't believe me.
SONGADYA
Come on, Auntie! You call yourselves milkmaids, don't you?

SECOND MILKMAID

 

What can we do? Modern dairies are too competitive.

304

TATERAO
Alright then . . . what else have you got to eat?
SONGADYA
Aw, they're not going to cooperate. Let's inspect their belongings.

AUNTIE

 

Look here. We've got to go.
SONGADYA
Not when you're hiding food. Come on, Auntie!

AUNTIE

 

Go 'way! There's nothing!
SONGADYA
Alright, then. Since there's no milk, how about a song?

AUNTIE

 

You're starving and you can still think about a song?
SONGADYA

Sure. I'm a true lover of the arts. Besides, music helps me forget
hunger.

FIRST MILKMAID

 

(To AUNTIE) Let's get it over with so we can move on.

AUNTIE

 

All right. We'll sing.

(Girls strike a singing pose and
everybody on stage freezes.
SONGADYA breaks out and moves
downstage to address the
audience.)

SONGADYA

They won't sing. No time. (Lights fade down. Spot on SONGADYA.
Others exit. Music in softly.) We move on now. After the Gaulan

305

or Milkmaid section . . . you find it in every TAMASHA . . . comes the
va , or drama. It always opens with music and singing. For my song,
we ve got time. (Lights fade up as musicians play.)

(Song)

This is a story

Of the onion of intelligence.

About a man so headstrong and proud,
His wife would cry, ”What can I do?”
"How can I look after him?”

”Oh, what can I do?”

(Song ends. Enter STAGE MANAGER,
SAIDU and AVCHITRAO, who is still
getting ready, fixing makeup, and
preparing to put on his King's
crown.)

STAGE MANAGER

 

Everybody ready?

SONGADYA

_— —.-—u——-—

(Examines AVCHITRAO's make-up.) Look at Avchitrao's make-up!
STAGE MANAGER

 

It's all right. He'll look like a king as soon as he puts on the
crown. (To AVCHITRAO) Come on, Avchitrao! Get that crown on your
head! You're supposed to be playing the King, remember? It's show-
time! And what about your moustache? As stage manager, I demand to
know.

AVCHITRAO

I'm not putting on a moustache. And I've decided not to wear the
crown. In fact, I don't like the part.

STAGE MANAGER

 

What's the matter, Avchitrao?
SONGADYA

I know. He's on strike because he hasn't had his shot of rum.
we

Right. First you find me a rupee so I can buy a drink. No rupee,
then it's good-bye.

306

STAGE MANAGER

 

You can't pull out like that! You're in this drama whether you like
it or not.

AVCHITRAO
You can do what you like. Me? I'm going.

STAGE MANAGER

 

Come on, friend. Be reasonable.
AVCHITRAO
Bye-bye! (He exits)
SONGADYA
Hey! Look at this! (He points to SAIDU.)
STAGE MANAGER

 

What's wrong with Saidu?
SONGADYA
Only half his face is made up. And just half a moustache.

STAGE MANAGER

 

(To SAIDU) What kind of make-up is that?
SAIDU

 

They said I've got only half a share in the take tonight. So . . .
figured I'd do half my make-up. Also, I'm considering saying only
half of all my lines.

(Enter CHANDANI)

STAGE MANAGER

 

(To CHANDANI) Chandani! Chandani! What's happening to us?
CHANQANI

(Puzzled) What's wrong? Anything wrong?

307

STAGE MANAGER

 

We're ruined! First your husband clears out . . . and now your father
refuses to finish his make-up. (Rushes offstage, mumbling) Ruined!
Ruined . . .

CHANDANI

(To SAIDU) What's the matter with you? And where did my no-good
husband go? ‘

SAIDU

 

. Half a share means half my lines. It's only right.
CHANDANI

This is the third time he's run off like this. How are we going to
run our troupe without him?

§QflGADYA
Why don't we join up with another troupe?

SAIDU

 

Then what'll happen to my half share?

What's the matter with you? Here our troupe is falling apart, and
you're still worrying about half a share!

SAIDU

 

I'm not asking for much, you know. Just half a eepee.
(Enter JASWANDI)
JASWANDI
Somebody outside.

SONGADYA

So? Is this a police station?

(Enter AVCHITRAO, pushed onstage
by a MAN. He appears to bounce
like rubber.)

308

CHANDANI
Avchitrao! What's wrong with him?

SONGADYA
Drink. What else?

CHANDANI

But it's never happened before. (To the man who brought her husband)
Where did you find him?

me:
On the sidewalk. He didn't have any rings or money on him, did he?

§QNGADYA

 

No valuables; only debts.

(The MAN exits. SONGADYA tries
to push AVCHITRAO but he springs
backward.)

CHANDANI
What's wrong with him?
AVCHITRAO
First give me a rupee. . . . I refuse to sit. . . . Day and night
I'm going to stand. .
He's in a bad way.
we

(To CHANDANI) Second . . . couldn't you make five nice things to eat?
Third . . . burn a stick of incense. . . .

CHANDANI
What's he mumbling about?
SONGADYA

He must be in real trouble. (To AVCHITRAO) Why don't you sit down? .
(AVCHITRAO kicks him) Maybe we should call a doctor. A brain specialist.

309

SAIDU
I know one. He lives just around the corner.
SONGADYA
Alright, I'll go and find him. (He exits)
(AVCHITRAO continues to mumble.
CHANDANI is nervous, upset.
SONGADYA returns in moments with
DOCTOR.)
SONGADYA

Here's the Doctor.

DOCTOR

 

I'm a brain specialist. Medicine for madness, goodness, stubbornness,
and etcetera and etcetera.

(DOCTOR heads directly to
JASWANDI)

SONGADYA

Not her! She's my wife.
DOCTOR

 

Don't worry, I'll set her brain right in no time.
SONGADYA

I'm telling you, she's not the patient. (Points at AVCHITRAO) There's
your madman. '

DOCTOR

 

What nonsense! First, I'll cure this one.
SONGADYA
But she's not mad! She's good.

DOCTOR

 

Yes, yes. Goodness is also one of those diseases of the brain. Just
ten strokes of my trusty hammer, and she'll come 'round.

310

W
Oh, boy! That's the end of her.
(SONGADYA closes his eyes and
sits. AVCHITRAO is still
mumbling. DOCTOR turns to him.)
999.198.
Ah! This looks more serious.
AVCHITRAO
Day and night I'll stand. . . .

DOCTOR

 

No! Definitely not. You'll have to lie down.

CHANDANI

—_———. - .. ---._. .__

Doctor. You do whatever you think is necessary.

(DOCTOR brings AVCHITRAO down to
the ground. After looking him
over for a few moments, DOCTOR
gets up and pulls a sad face.)

CHANDANI
What is it, Doctor?

DOCTOR

 

His onion of intelligence has become enlarged. Seven layers. We'll
have to remove three. Should I operate?

 

CHANDANI
Can you do it?

DOCTOR
Here's a saw.

SONGADYA

You can cut a tree with that thing.

311

DOCTOR

 

Come on! . . . Bring a table! Heat up an iron rod! (Claps his hands)
Hurry! Come on!

(Background music is used as cover
for the operation. Doctor operates
with his back to the audience. We
hear the sound of hammer breaking
the skull, and then the cutting

of the saw. The onion is removed.
Layers are cut away and the onion
is put back again. The head is
nailed up.)

SONGADYA
IS he still alive?
DOCTOR

If there's any movement in a day or so, then he's unconscious. If
not, assume he's dead.

SONGADYA

Will you have some tea before you go?

DOCTOR

 

It was a big operation. What can a cup of tea do? I need a big meal.
(He exits)
gimme
I hope his madness is cured.
SONGADYA

Maybe he'll become a teacher, or at least a clerk.

SONGADYA

—‘—---_

 

(To audience) AVCHITRAO has been operated upon by the Doctor. Three
layers of his onion of intelligence have been cut away. He is now a
schoolmaster. (To his wife) Jaswandi!

JASWANDI

Don't shout! I can hear you.

312

SONGADYA
Now there's speech control in this house!

JASWANDI
Don't shout! The master has given instructions.

SONGADYA
Why? Is there some kind of energy lost if you shout? What kind of
silly teaching is this master propagating? Use less light and save
on electricity. Don't use the stove too much . . . waste of
kerosene! And now, talk less and conserve energy. What nonsense!
Shouting disturbs the neighbors.

SONGADYA
I'm telling you, Jaswandi, this is all the result of that operation

on Avchitrao. It's turned a good Tamasha artist into a dumb school-
master. Get me some matches, will you?

JASWANDI
Matches?

SONGADYA
For a cigarette!

JASWANDI

”fl“

No smoking! And no chewing tobacco. Master doesn't approve.
SONGADYA
Hell! Will you get some matches. I might as well die if I can't live.
9.55.‘-¢'.:’i}:19_1_
(Gives SONGADYA some matches) Here!
(SONGADYA lights cigarette. Enter
AVCHITRAO sniffing air. SONGADYA
hides cigarette in his hand.)

AVCHITRAO

What's that smell?

313

SONGADYA

Nothing. Incense.

AVCHITRAO

No. It's tobacco. Who's been here today? (Sniffs)

(Enter SAIDU and CHANDANI,
talking)

SAIDU

(To CHANDANI) Before his operation, he played fine dholki drum. Now,
it's gone. I'm ashamed to call him son-in-law. He's stopped us smoking
and drinking. And from performing on stage. How are we supposed to
live? I'm going to start up a new troupe.

we;
Father!

gypgm;
What can a man do here?

SONGADYA

He's right. This is no longer the house of Tamasha artists; it's a
middle-class home of a middle-class family.

SAIDU
(To CHANDANI) You stay with him. Good-bye. (He exits)
AVCHITRAO

(Yawns) Well, tomorrow's another day. School begins early. Good
night!

(He begins to move off.)

CHANDANI

Now, what do we do?

(All freeze onstage, except
SONGADYA, who turns to audience)

314

SONGADYA

Simple. We called for the Doctor. We thought another operation would
fix him up. It was easy. I simply clapped my hands, like in some folk
play, where the King calls for his servant.

(He claps his hands and the DOCTOR
appears. He also freezes.)

But the second operation only made matters worse. AVCHITRAO became a
primitive and ran off to the jungle with a social do-gooder. It was
after that that we all decided to remove his onion of intelligence
for good!

(Loud musical introduction begins
and all except CHANDANI and
SONGADYA exit. CHANDANI sings'
and dances. SONGADYA tries to
collect money from audience.)

CHANDANI
(5009)

Young men live and die for me,

And oh, they all fall in love with me!
Whose fault is it?

Whose fault is it?

Rich folk have their maids,

And birds have their mates

Oh! Look what God started!

I'm from the village Satara.
They say I'm good-looking,
And I walk gracefully.
Even my husband used to whistle,
And I liked it.
And I liked it.

(Exit CHANDANI. SONGADYA speaks
to audience)

After his third operation, AVCHITRAO became . . . believe it or not
. . . a great political leader. In this climactic scene, I play the
part of a servant to this noble personage. Two people have come to
his office.

(Enter TWO VISITORS and sit.)

315

We are all awaiting the arrival of the great AVCHITRAO! (To the
VISITORS) Stand up, please. The master has come! (All stand.)

FIRST VISITOR

 

We're lucky, by God!
SONGADYA
Sh! He's coming.
(Enter AVCHITRAO followed by his
FEMALE SECRETARY and a FEMALE
ADMIRER. SONGADYA exits.)
AVCHITRAO
Please be seated. (SECRETARY pushes VISITORS into seats.) Forgive
me for being late. Those tours take up so much time. (To FIRST
VISITOR) Ah, but let's forget all that. How are you? (To SECOND
VISITOR) And you? (To SECRETARY) Check through this mail, will you?

FEMALE ADMIRER

 

What a fine speech! I heard him. There was a lot of applause.
W

(While looking through letters) Deafening applause! It was marvelous.
Not since Nehru . .

FEMALE ADMIRER

 

Nehru would have praised him for such a great speech.

SECRETARY

 

Nehru was a man who knew how to choose leaders! He would have taken
him straight to Delhi with him.

FEMALE ADMIRER

 

And once he chooses, a man is set for life.

FIRST VISITOR

 

(To FEMALE ADMIRER) What did he speak about?
FEMALE ADMIRER

 

Indian Culture. What else is there to talk about? Well, I must be
off. (To AVCHITRAO) Thank you for this opportunity. Good-bye!

(She exits)

316

SECRETARY

Here's a check. Five thousand. For the tender you accepted.
Remember? . . . For construction of the dam.

AVCHITRAO
Later! Later! Not just now.

SECRETARY
I'm sorry.

AVCHITRAO

(To FIRST VISITOR) And you .
FIRST VISITOR

 

You promised to come to our village, remember?

AVCHITRAO

——————-——r—.—_— -._.

(To SECRETARY) What was the date?
FIRST VISITOR

Second of October.

SECRETARY

Schedule's full. Sorry.
FIRST VISITOR

 

But: the program's all arranged. And you promised!

AVCHITRAO

'The fourth of October. I can't help it.
SECRETARY

 

 

(To EFIRST VISITOR) Are the roads in good shape?
FIRST VISITOR

 

Sevetheen miles of good road. The approach road is just three miles.
That's a bad one.

317

SECRETARY
Then how can you get there by car?

FIRST VISITOR

 

If doctors can get through, I don't see what the problem is.
SECRETARY

But he's not a doctor. He's a leader! His Impala is worth fifty
thousand, you know. It doesn't go just anywhere.

FIRST VISITOR

 

Well, why don't we compromise? We'll use the budget we have for road
repairs and put it all into this one road.

eegeETARY

 

But what if there's not enough in your budget?

FIRST VISITOR

 

We'll worry about that. Maybe take a little out of the school building
fund. Maybe a little from the hospital budget.

SECRETARY

I mean to say we'll definitely come to your village on the fourth of
October.

FIRST VISITOR

 

(To SECRETARY) Make sure you come along.

AVCHITRAO
How can I leave her behind? She's my goddess of inspiration.

(FIRST VISITOR exits.)

ALEO‘IIBAQ.
(To SECRETARY) Good! Now what about the mail?

sag-BEBE!
The weekly cheque from the Vilaspur Cinema. Also some invitations
for speaking engagements. . . . And here's a letter from Delhi. Three

Americans are coming to study farm methods here. They'd like us to
prepare a program.

318

AVCHITRAO
Look in the files. Same program we use for the foreigners. We'll
show our cash crops . . . sugar cane . . . grapes and turmeric. Keep
them away from our grain. If they find out we grow our own they'll
eventually cut down on free food shipments. When they've done with
the tour, we'll throw in a cultural program. It'll give my wife the
chance to dance a bit.

SECRETARY
But how would that look?

AVCHITRAO
I don't care. Let my whole damn family come out and perform once in
a while. They'll justify their living in front of the people. (Calls
to CHANDANI) Chandani?

(Enter CHANDANI, without ankle-
bells)

CHANDANI.
Excuse me.
AVCHITRAO
Some people are coming from America. I want you to dance for them.
MIMI
Me? But I haven't performed in years.
AVCHITRAO
Do you have to teach fish to swim? You just put on your ankle-bells.
The rest will come naturally. (Turns to SECOND VISITOR, who is

seated.) And who are you?

SECOND VISITOR

 

I'm a relative. . . . Cousin to your wife's sister's husband.
eyCHITRAO
Why have you come?

SECOND VISITOR

 

You're big here. Maybe you can find me a job.

319

AVCHITRAO
What are you doing now?

SECOND VISITOR

 

Nothing.
AVCHITRAO
Any education?

SECOND VISITOR

 

What would I be doing here if I was educated? What's influence fee
if you can't use it?

AVCHITRAO
Come and work with me. I'll give you a full-time job.

§£COND VISITOR

 

Doing what?
AVCHITRAO
Nothing. Just accompany me on tours and meet people.

SECOND VISITOR

 

That sounds good. Alright.
AVCHITRAO
But a word of warning. You've got to be absolutely loyal to me.

SECOND VISITOR

 

How could I betray a relative?
AVCHITRAO
Fine. Come and see me in the morning.

(Exit SECOND VISITOR. Enter
an EDITOR)

EDITOR

 

(In strong English accent) May I come in? I'm an editor.

320

AVCHITRAO
Daily, weekly or monthly?
EDITOR

 

I have many publications. They help me earn money from the rich.
AVCHITRAO

What do you print?
EDITOR

 

One publication is called Paduka. We print photos of gods and
goddesses and biographies of leaders. This pays for publication.

AVCHITRAO
Why did you come here?

EDITOR

 

To interview you. Maybe to dedicate an issue of Paduka to you.

SECPEmgey

 

You mean give you money?

EDITOR

 

Well, elections are getting near. You can think of it as an invest—
ment in publicity.

Avcnlmeee
That's different.
EDITOR

Good. There's not much to the interview. All you have to do is fill
in the blanks. Like date of birth .

SECRETARY

The later one. To make you look younger.

AVCHITRAO

Ah . . . well, I was born in the . . . forties.

 

 

321

EDITOR
Look. I'll say you took part in the struggle for independence when
you were a boy. You were fearless. Bullets couldn't stop you. You
blew up railway tracks and burned buildings. . . .

AVCHITRAO

But remember . . . all this is for a good cause.

EDITOR

 

My problem. Don't worry. Now, what about education?

SECRETARY

 

That's not important.

EDITOR

 

Don't worry. I'll say that his work with the leaders of the Quit
India Movement of the Forties cut Short his brilliant academic career.

 

meme
Fine! Fine!

EDITOR
Any troubles with the law?

AVCHITReQ

——-a-o—-.— -

Well . . . yes. Three times. I was involved in a fight. Once I was
arrested for theft, and the last time . . . I was caught forging a
check.

 

eOITOR
Marvellous! You went to jail three times . . . in 1920, 1930 and
1942 . . . because of anti-British activities.

AVCHITRAO

But how does it fit if you write I was born in 1940?

EDITOR

 

That doesn't matter. Nobody pays attention to the details.
(Enter SONGADYA)

322

some
Taxi's waiting, sir.

AVCHITRAO
Is my speech ready?

SECRETARY
Use the one from the tour.

AVCHITReg

Good. I remember that one. (To EDITOR) We'll be back in a few
minutes.

EDITOR

 

Got to wait. I need your picture.

--— —-—-———

Chandani! (Enter CHANDANI) Have you started rehearsing your act?
(To EDITOR) She used to be really good. (To CHANDANI) This is an
Editor. Maybe he'll take your picture.

(AVCHITRAO, SECRETARY exit.)

EDITOR

m..—

That Secretary of your husband's . . . She's pretty close to him.

CHANDeNI

 

He's become like a husband to her. Maybe her fifth. If you want the
truth, I'll tell you. Avchitrao's become a leader because of ee, (To
SONGADYA) It's true, isn't it?

SONOApye

 

Sure it's true. 00 you think he's got brains of his own?

EDITOR

 

How dare you speak like that about such a man?
CHANDANI

It's true. We made him what he is. He was out of his mind and he had
to have his onion of intelligence peeled away. That's how he came to
be a leader.

323

EDITOR

 

Fantastic! I can run a Special issue. Maybe blackmail him.
SONGADYA
A political leader must be somebody with no brains!
(Enter AVCHITRAO)
AVCHITRAO
(To EDITOR) Now! What about the interview?

EDITOR

 

Question? How much is it worth to you if I don't publish the truth
about your onion of intelligence? My guess is twenty thousand rupees.

AVCHITRAO

Twenty-thousand?
SECRETARY

(To AVCHITRAO) Nothing to worry about. We can turn the tables on him.

 

EDITOR
I'll publish a special issue.

SECRETARY
We'll file suits against you.

EDITOR

 

Payment by the twentieth of the month. (He exits)

(From offstage, actors yell
Slogans about the new issue of
EDITOR'S magazine, SPUTNIK.
Enter two MALE EXTRAS.)

FIRST EXTRA

 

So! His onion of intelligence was peeled away!

SECOND EXTRA

 

You don't need brains to become a leader.

 

324

FIRST EXTRA

 

What a story! It must be propaganda for the elections.

SECOND EXTRA

 

Wonder who that brain specialist was.

FIRST EXTRA

 

We'll know soon enough.

(From offstage, people shouting.
”Did you read it? . . .“ "Did
,you hear it? . . .“)

SECOND EXTRA

 

(To AVCHITRAO) I've come to express my sympathy.
AVCHITRAO
Sympathy? This should be a time for rejoicing! I'm famous!

FIRST EXTRA

 

Awful, what they've published about you.
AVCHITRAO
Wonderful!

SECOND EXTRA

 

And now he's made a name for himself.
AVCHITRAO
Maybe I should throw a party to celebrate.
(Enter DOCTOR)
poem.

Save me!

AVCHITRAO

What's happened, Doctor?

325

DOCTOR

They're all after me! They all want me to peel away their onions of
intelligence.

SONGADYA
They're all greedy.
DOCTOR

(To AVCHITRAO) Help me! I'll teach you my secrets and then you must
do to me what I did to you.

(From offstage crowd chants.

"We want our onions of intel-
ligence peeled away! We must
become leaders!" Lights fade to
black, as music comes up.)

(THE END)

APPENDIX E

SHAHIR SABLE'S MUKTANATYA, OR FREE-FORM FOLK PLAY:

 

YAMARAJYAT EK RATRA ("ONE NIGHT IN HELL”)

326

 

APPENDIX E

SHAHIR SABLE'S MUKTANATYA, OR FREE—FORM FOLK PLAY:
YAMARAJYAT EK RATRA ("ONE NIGHT IN HELL")

 

The original Marathi script by Shahir Sable was first produced
at the Amar Hind Theatre, Bombay, on October 16, 1960. It was pub—
lished by Ram-Krishna Book Depot, Prarthana Samaj, Bombay, April, 1964,
and the copyright is held by Mr. Sable. Translation and adaptation:
Nilima Vaidya and Tevia Abrams, by kind permission of the copyright

holder.

327

328

YAMARAJYAT EK RATRA

 

("One Night in Hell")

A Muktanatya, or Free-form Folk Play

 

by

Shahir Sable

C by K. Sable, 1960

First produced at Amar Hind theatre,
Bombay, October 16, 1970

Translation and Adaptation

by

Nilima Vaidya and Tevia Abrams

(By special permission of Shahir Sable)

Original Marathi version published by Ram-Krishna Book Depot, Bombay,
April, 1964

329

CHARACTERS

RAJA
KISAN

YAMA, King of the Kingdom of Hell

FIRST SOUL

 

SECOND SOUL

 

THIRD SOUL

 

FOURTH SOUL

 

FIFTH SOUL

 

SIXTH SOUL

 

TWO MESSENGERS, JAMPAK and BHAMPAK

 

TWO ANGELS

 

ANNOUNCER

330

(KISAN enters)
KISAN

No! No! We're wasting our lives. The life of a dog is better than
ours. In all of Bombay, we can't find a simple job . . . What rotten
luck!

(Sings with sarcasm)

Bombay's a big place.
A fine and lovely place.
It's a bed of roses!

Beautiful description, isn't it? That, my friends, was the observation
of the late and great Tamasha artist, Patthe Bapurao. He compares life
to a flower. But who is so lucky today as to be able to lead a life

as gentle and as beautiful as a bed of roses? More like a bed of
thorns . . . for people like us . . . who live on the sidewalks of
Bombay. Just look at my buddy, Raja. What a sound sleep he's having
on the ground! Does he have any worries? Raja! Raja! Is this a
life?

(Sings)

Have you seen Bombay?

That youthful place .

Where business booms . .
And ships just come and go?

(Enter RAJA, wrapped in a cotton
blanket and a cap. He rubs his
eyes.)

RAJA

Stop that noise! What are you doing? All day long you sing! What
a waste of time!

KISAN

 

I was singing to amuse myself. A lavani poem from some folk play.
36:11:

You mean you weren't shouting? It sounded like a loudspeaker. Any-
way, dear Brahma—deva . . . God of creation . . . I think you ought

to get some sleep for your sake and mine. Don't you want to sleep,

Kisan?

 

What else have I done in life?

Singing. But that's no profession.

5.1.2551.

No, not singing. I'll die first.

RAJA.
You can pull a handcart.

KISAN

_u— .—.a.

In my weakened condition? Look at me.

RAJA
Ah!

(Thinks) There's one thing.

There's a lot of barren land near Bombay.

Could I pull a handcart?

Even the government recognizes it.

Why don't you cultivate it?

Do you know our country needs all kinds of young, unemployed people?

Think it over.

 

KISAN
And what'll you do?

RAJA
Me? I'll carry on . . . just like always.
food. Some have to grow more business.
I'll grow more children if I ever get married.
expansion.

KISAN
Ah! What an existence!

aw.
Enough! Let's go to bed.
walk.

to curl up in his basket.

KISAN

—————

Wicker basket?

You can be part of the ”Grow More Food'' campaign.

Not everybody can grow more
That way lies progress. Me?
That way lies national

Even cats and dogs are better off than we are.

Somebody will steal our place on the side-
Like last night, when two coolies slept in our spot and I had

332

RAJA

 

I realized where I was early this morning. I woke up bouncing around,
and all the buildings of Bombay were swaying in the morning breeze.
One of the coolies was carrying the wicker basket on his head, and I
was in the basket.

(Both men exit.)
CHORUS

 

(Song in povada form)

One day the King of Hell was deep in thought.
Counting the souls in his great domain.

Two were missing; error in the books!

Yama sent messengers to set them right,

But the messengers were raw,

And enchanted by the city sight,

They made greater errors in the night.

(Enter JAMPAK and BHAMPAK the
messengers.)

JAMPAK

Bhampak! Where are you? I can't see you. This big town is too
distracting; all I see for miles around are people. Don't know whom
to pick.

BHAMPAK
Me too. I just can't choose.

JAMPAK

 

Don't worry. Two heads are better than one. I'll help.
BHAMPAK
You're eee_going to take me_for one of those missing souls . . .

JAMPAK

 

No! No! Let's just hurry and take two lives from here. The sooner
we get back to Yama, the better.

BHAMPAK

Wait! We can't just pick on anybody. It'll be our heads if we make
any mistakes. Didn't Yama give you the names, pTEEes and addresses?

333

m
That's the problem. He forgot.

BHAMPAK
Well, what do we do now?

mimP/Tk

 

I say we go ahead and take any two lives. It doesn't matter. Two
drops from the ocean. Nothing, I tell you.

BHAMPAK
You're right. Lets go. (Thinks) Are we supposed to take two lives
or two souls? I can't remember. If we take lives and if Yama wants
souls, then we've had it. Also the other way around.

JAMPAK

 

What a fix! And we're new on the job to top it all. You sure you
can't remember Yama's exact words?

BHAMPAK
He didn't say anything specific. But we can assume he means soul.

JAMPAK

 

Maybe. But still we're not sure.
BHAMEA5_
Compromise! Let's take two bodies. That way we're safe.

JAMPAK

 

(Happily) Good idea. Yama can make his own choice.

Fine. Now, for the choice. I'm not used to heavy loads, so let's
choose some light people.

JAMPAK

 

(Looking around) Ah! There! Two paper-thin people, over there! . .
Asleep on the Sidewalk.

334

BHAMPAK

Fool! Those are poor people with no shelter. That's why they're
sleeping there.

JAMPAK

 

All the more reason to take them. We can free them from this weary
life and give them shelter.

BHAMPAK
All right. Let's go. You take the legs, I'll take the heads.
(They exit)
ANNOUNCER
We now take you from Earth to the Kingdom of Hell. Yama, God of Hell,
is riding towards us on his buffalo. Don't try to look for him. You
can only see him when you're dead.
steels.
(Sings povada)
In the Kingdom of Yama nothing goes wrong,
And nothing is gained through influence.
The good go to heaven,
And sinners to hell.

And truth and justice prevail.

FIRST ANGEL

 

(To SECOND ANGEL) Dear buddy. Snap to it! Yama's coming.
SECOND ANGEL

 

Dreadful! Ugly! He tries so hard not to be seen. That's why he's
asked the sun not to rise. But he can't hide his Sloppy frame. Look,
how fat he's becoming! Have you ever seen such a sight in your life?
(Music is heard) Here he comes! Look smart.

(ANGELS snap to attention. YAMA
enters on a buffalo. All bow to
him. He pats buffalo.)

III-II.

(To Buffalo) Get out! (Animal doesn't move. YAMA shouts) Well!
What do you want . . . raise in pay? (No movement) All right. An

 

335

increase of five ru ees. (To ANGELS) And from you two, a cut of five
ru ees. (To buffalo Now, go! (Animal waits) Quick march! (No
movement) Double-quick-march!

(Animal leaves, YAMA speaks to
ANGELS)

How is the Kingdom?

FIRST ANGEL

 

The same.
YAMA

Yesterday, I made an error in the books. I sent two of our messengers
to make good some losses. Have they returned?

SECOND ANGEL

 

They're useless, those two. They won't be back so soon.
YAMA

Don't be cheeky. They're new here and you're just jealous of them.
Do you know who they are?

SECOND ANGEL

 

No sir.
YAMA

One is a close friend and the other happens to be my brother—in-law.
If I have them fired, what do you think my wife would say?

BOTH ANGELS

 

Sorry. This is beyond our understanding.
YAMA
That's alright. Get me my mace.
(The ANGELS get the mace which
is so heavy it drops and catches
fire.)

YAMA

The mace is angry.

 

 

336

ANGELS

 

(Shouting) Save us! Please save us!
YAMA

Death to you sinners! (Extinguishes the fire and turns to ANGELS)
Quickly! How many have you killed today?

ANGELS

 

One hundred and five.

Xflflfl.
(Surprised) Why two more?

flRST ANGEL
Well, we're just going by your list.

IDEA
Only from the list?

(From offstage, shouts of “No!”
"No!" are heard.)

(To souls offstage) Well, then, all you souls . . . How did you get
here?

ALL SOULS FROM OFFSTAGE

 

Our bretheren.
YAMA

One at a time, please. (ANGELS bring them onstage, one by one. YAMA
to FIRST SOUL) You! How did you come?

ELRSLSQWL
I drank some iodine.

I .9151.
Take him away.

(FIRST SOUL is taken off.)

337

SECOND SOUL

 

I fell in the elections and I never rose again.
YAMA
Then raise him.

SECOND SOUL

 

(Happily) Where?

vnm

 

On a spear.
(ANGELS take SECOND SOUL away.)
THIRD SOUL
The temple of my love was destroyed, and so I said goodbye to the world.
LANA.
Build a tomb in his honor and take him away.

(THIRD SOUL is taken off.)

FOURTH SOUL

 

I promised my love I‘d place her in my heart. But after marriage my
heart was strained by her three hundred pounds of weight. And so I
died.

TAMA_
Don't lift such heavy loads.
(FOURTH SOUL exits.)
EIFTH SOUL

My family died of hunger. Me too. So I ended up here. Can any
arrangement be made for my meals?

FIRST ANGEL

 

Alas! He seems to be hungry. Let's give him some food.

338

YAMA

What do you think this is? . . . A food distribution centre? All these
uninvited people dropped in on me, and now there's a mistake in my
accounting system. Punishment will be the only food handed (NIL here!

FIFTH SOUL
We came here for justice and mercy.
we

If we show you mercy, what are we to do with the souls who came here
legally?

ALL SOULS
Mercy! Forgiveness! Peace!

YAMA

That's the Kingdom of Rama, not Yama! (To ANGELS) Hurry up! Make
your selections for Heaven and Hell!

FIRST ANGEL

 

We've done the sorting. The ones with red labels go to Heaven. Those
with black go to Hell.

SIXTH SOUL
But I'm sure I'm good enough to deserve Heaven!

FIRST ANGEL

 

Look, here! If you've got a black label, you go to Hell. No grumbling.
ALL SOULS
Justice! We want justice!

FIRST ANGEL

 

We have no power to undo what's been done. If you like you can appeal
to the god of justice.

mu:

(To SIXTH SOUL) You want to appeal, do you? Well, you'll have to post
a bond of two red-labelled souls before you leave here.

 

 

339

SIXTH SOUL

 

But I don't know any red labels. How about four black ones?
YAMA
No deal. They belong to me anyway-

SIXTH SOUL

 

Who says so? They paid their income tax.
YAMA

I don't believe it. If they had paid their tax they'd be marked for
Heaven. Obviously they dodged their payments on earth.

SIXTH SOUL

 

(To SECOND ANGEL) Here's twenty-five paise. Take me to Heaven, will
you?

SECOND ANGEL

 

Only twenty-five? Cheap-skate!
Sitiéfl
I'm sorry. There are two of you. I'll make it fifty.

SECOND ANGEL

 

Sorry, we're incorruptible.

SIXTH SOUL

 

What a mess! They won't even take a simple bribe. How can anybody
hope to run an organization like that?

YAMA

(To ANGELS) Hurry. Open the doors to Hell and get them all in.
(Looks at his watch) We're already on overtime.

(All exit except FIRST ANGEL;
enter JAMPAK and BHAMPAK)

BHAMPAK

Don't shut the doors yet! Where's Yama?

340

FIRST ANGEL

 

Gone to bed. It's late.

JAMPAK

—.- m-m—q‘

Why? Is he sleeping off any sins?
BHAMPAK

What are we supposed to do with the two souls we brought for him?
953235

Not souls, stupid. Lives! Two lives!
BHAMPAK

Souls, I said! And if you say another word, I'll take your life.
HELEN GEL.

What's all this business about souls and lives?
EHANEAE

Listen to me. We picked up two souls.
gauges

(To BHAMPAK) How do you know for sure?

£13§T ANGEL

 

How can two people with influence ever make mistakes?
JAMPAK

(To ANGEL) Do you know who you're talking to? (To BHAMPAK) And
you . . . don't try to put one over on me just because you're older
than I am.

Eflfifilflifi
I'll show you a thing or two. Just you wait until Yama retires.
I'll be taking over . . . because I'm his friend. We're old
buddies from way back.

JAMPAK

But you forget I'm his brother-in—law. Anyway, we've got this
problem on our hands. Let's make a decision now.

341

BHAMPAK
Damn it! Anything we decide should be right, because people with
influence are never wrong. We may not have practical knowledge like
the others . . . but, we can read and write.

FIRST ANGEL

 

Great!
BHAMPAK
(To JAMPAK) See how he accepts us now?

FIRST ANGEL

 

Would you mind explaining what it is exactly that you've done?

BHAMPAK

Listen. (Hesitates, turns to JAMPAK) Ygu_better tell him.

 

gem/w

 

(To ANGEL) Well, you see . . . It's not easy to put it into words.
Actually . . . ah . . . we had a commission to perform for Yama . . .
and we . . . ah . . . came back with two people . . . since we
weren't exactly sure about whether soul or life was wanted. That's it.

FIRST ANGEL

 

Marvellous! You've done something out of the ordinary. Fine intel-
lectuals! You'll probably find yourselves unemployed when he hears
about it. (Laughs)

BHAMPAK
What are you laughing about?

JAMPAK

“‘4...

Anything wrong? (Thinking; then to BHAMPAK) Bhampak? Do people with
influence ever go wrong?

BHAMPAK

m“-v-

(Happily) Never!

FIRST ANGEL

 

Fools! Have you ever seen live human beings in Hell? Imagine what
can happen! Human clay mixing with our souls. Do you know what can
happen? The souls will turn into ghosts, that's what.

342

BHAMPAK
(Worried) No! . . . Then, we've really done it.

JAMPAK

 

(To BHAMPAK) Psst. Let's slip him a bribe. We'll find a way out.
BHAMPAK

(To ANGEL) We're innocent! Innocent, I tell you! Please show us a
way out of this mess!

FIRST ANGEL

 

Hell! Why don't you ask your father in Hell?
BHAMPAK
We're truly sorry.

FIRST ANGEL

 

(Softer) Maybe I can show you a way out.

JAMPAK

-——-——_—-

We'll do whatever you say.

FIRST ANGEL

 

Then bow down.
JAMPAK
(Happily) That's easy.

(JAMPAK and BHAMPAK bow to
to each other.)

FIRST ANGEL

 

To me, silly!

JAMPAK

 

You? Alright.
(They bow to ANGEL.)

343

FIRST ANGEL

 

Now, where are your charges?

JAMPAK

 

In the waiting room.

FIRST ANGEL

 

Bring them here. I'll draw a circle so they won't escape. (He
kneels and draws a circle) There!

(All exit. An ANNOUNCER enters
and speaks to the audience.)

ANNOUNCER

 

Due to a slight error committed by Yama's messengers our two side-
walk dwellers from Bombay . . . Raja and Kisan . . . find themselves
trapped in Hell.

(Clock strikes midnight. RAJA
awakens thinking it's morning.

He tries to walk but falls. He
feels around and comes to a circu-
lar wall which surrounds the two
of them. He wakes KISAN.)

RAJA
Is it morning? I can't tell. It's dark. And where does this wall
come from? I can't see it, but it's there. There are ghosts some-

where.

KISAN

 

(Waking) Keep quiet. I'm trying to sleep.
(KISAN tries to get up and walk.
He encounters the same invisible
wall.)

Is there a wall? Oh, Raja, we're dead now. We're not in Bombay. This
isn't the sidewalk.

RAJA

Where are we?

344

KISAN

 

We're in the Kingdom of Yama. Look! There's the door of Hell. See
what's written on it? (Reads) Heavenly Hell, Private Limited.

RAJA
Does that mean we're dead?
5.1m

Since we were brought up with our bodies intact, we can't be dead.
Look! The door of Hell is opening.

(From offstage, voices of dead
souls. RAJA and KISAN are
frightened. They close their
eyes.)

RAJA

If you say we're not dead, then how did we get here? (More frightened)
Look! Ghosts are looking at us from behind the door. My friend, I
think we are dead.

KISAN

Is that so bad?

RAJA

":-—

Yes. Because I missed all the great things in life. Like taking
bribes for example. I never knew the pleasures of wealth.

KISAN

Dying is not under our control.
But you were always so fed up with life.

KISAN

 

What do you know? I've seen things no living person should see.
I've taken enough insults in life. I remember seeing a cabaret
performance . . . (Noise of ghosts shouting)

BAQA

Boy! Just listen to them. Should I go and see who's gone to Hell?
There's a big opening in the doorway.

345

KISAN
No, I'll go. But you hold on to me.

(While holding him, RAJA steals
something from KISAN'S pocket.)

Shame on you! You've brought your nasty habits with you.
RAQA_

Well, I thought I should keep in practice.
KISAN

 

(Looks in door—way) Oh, what a surprise! I can see most of your
friends. . . . There's Dhania, Mania, Bania. . . . They're the ones
who really deserve to be in Hell.

RAJA

—- ——--—-—\

Do you think there'll be room for us? Kisan, you've got to find a way
out of here. You know so many people. Don't you have any influence
here?

K I s n N

 

Not here.

BAOA_
Well, then, I think I know a way. Lets' have a cultural program. And
we'll call all the leaders of Yama and maybe, if they like the program,
we can ask them to send us to Heaven.

_LEEN.
Good idea. But what if they ignore our request.

RAQA
Then we'll approach Yama himself.

KISAN

But will he understand a cultural program? I mean his culture is only
about death.

RAJA

Then, what if we approach the Supreme God?

346

KISAN

 

What do you think this is . . . a school where you go to see the
principal?

RAJA

Why not go to the top? Even if he doesn't understand. I mean it's
the same on earth . . . so many people in high places who don't
understand anything . . . and still, we go to them . . . nd they
pretend to know.

KISAN

 

But it's not permitted here. Everything will get all mixed up. Like
home-made wine.

RAJA

 

Good! Then there'll be good demand for it.

KISAN

 

Oh, nobody drinks that here. The nectar of the gods is the thing in
this place.

RAJA

Forget it. I'm going to prepare some tea. A cup for you. One for
me. And maybe one for Yama, and then the angels . . .

KISAN

 

But what effect would that have?

RAJA

 

I don't know, but even a small bribe can't hurt.

(From backstage a musical flourish
and FIRST SOUL enters.)

FIRST SOUL

 

(Laughs) Good. Good! I'm happy to hear your suggestion, Raja.
RAJA

 

(Frightened) A ghost! Oh, this is the end! And he knows my name.
Who are you?

347

FIRST SOUL

 

Don't you recognize me?

KISAN

 

I think we're surrounded by ghosts.

FIRST SOUL

 

Don't be frightened. I'm your friend, Shet.
M

(Thinking) Ah, Shet! It's you. How did ygu_come here?
FIRST SOUL

 

Heart attack. It was in yesterday's news. I went to the race-track.
My own horses were running. All of them placed and I won a handsome
sum.

BALU).
It must have been a fluke.
KISAN

But you should have gone to Hell. What are you waiting for?

FIRST SOUL

 

I thought I might set myself up in business right here. Your idea
of making tea is excellent.

RAJA

(To KISAN) Look. Even here it's the same thing. You know what I
think? As soon as we get processed, we'll be kicked right out. Just
like back home.

FIRST SOUL

 

Stick to business. Let's not waste any time. (Asks RAJA) Who's this
man?

RAJA

This is my friend, Kisan.

348

FIRST SOUL

 

All right, gentlemen, shall we start our business?
RAJA
With what? No money.

FIRST SOUL

 

No need to worry, I'm here. How much do you need?
BAJA_

But you're forgetting you're dead. Your money's back down there.
5&qu

I'll manage that. Let's stick to business.
KISAN

(To RAJA) These people are born rich. They know how to get money
when they need it.

FIRST_SQUL

(To RAJA) Don't listen to him. People like us don't show off our
wealth.

RAJA
Now, what about the idea of making tea?

FIRST sogL_

.—-~——..

 

Good idea, but there's no profit in it. Why don't you try nectar?
The nectar of heaven. If you can market that you'll be able to put
up a big building on this spot inside of two years. Guaranteed! You
see, there's not much you can do about watering down tea. . . . But,
with nectar ,

KISAN

 

You'd mix something with it?

FIRST SOUL

 

Sure. I'd do it. My children could do it. Everybody does it.

349

RAJA

I don't understand.

FIRST SOUL

 

It's a long tradition in our family.
RAJA
A shame! A blot on our nation's record.

FIRST SOUL

 

Wrong. We are totally shameless. Nobody gives a damn about things
like national shame.

KISAN
(Sings)

Now we learn what business is:

It's all mixed up.

We call it the nation's strength,
And we say we're proud.

But, there are stones in our grain,
And oil in our butter,

And water in milk.

This is our shame,

But people don't care.

RAJA

 

(To FIRST SOUL) Shet, you better go. The messengers will be looking
for you.

(FIRST SOUL exits.)

Oh, God! Save us from all these ghosts! (They see another SOUL
entering) Look! Look! Another one.

SECOND SOUL

 

Don't be afraid of me. I'm not just any departed soul. I am the father
of them all.

RAJA

 

That's it. Now I know we're really dead.

350

SECOND SOUL

 

No, not yet. I can't let you die just yet. You'll have to perform
a little service for me. You see, I want to get married.

KISAN

 

You mean you're not married yet?

SECOND SOUL

 

I haven't been able to find a priest. But now I've found ygu,
we:
Who were you on earth?

SECOND SOUL

 

The husband of the most horrible woman.
Bid“-
And you wan't to marry again?

SECOND SOUL

 

Yes. Maybe here I can enjoy the pleasures of married life.
RAJA
No, you're wrong. Wherever you no it's the same.

SECOND SOUL

 

But this time, the one I've chosen is really nice.

RAJA

—-—.——. .. .._

That's what they all say at first.

 

Ah, but she's in love with me!
RAJA

(Can we have a look at her?

351

SECOND SOUL

 

If you really want to. But, she's not exactly your normal kind of woman.
She's something of a vampire.

KISAN

Where is she?

SECOND SOUL

 

(Pointing) Right there, sitting in that tree. Ah, here she comes.
Head first.

RAJA
We can only see her feet. What about her face?

SECOND SOUL

 

She won't show it until we're married.
KISAN
She seems to be quite cultured . . . but are you sure she's got a face?

SECOND SOUL

 

Let's hope so. Here she comes.

(Enter the VAMPIRE)
RAJA
(To KISAN) Look. Her feet are on backwards.
SECOND SOUL

 

Don't be afraid. Let's get on with the marriage, shall we?

(He takes VAMPIRE by hand and
brings her to RAJA and KISAN.
They both stare at her. SECOND
SOUL speaks to the men.)

Now, don't stare at her. Let's hurry, or I'll lose her.
RAJA

(To audience) What an ugly bird! Frightening. Face like black
tar. . . . And I'm supposed to unite this couple?

352

SECOND SOUL

 

(To VAMPIRE) Come on, dear. Don't be shy. (To RAJA) She's shy
because it's all new and exciting. You see, this is a real love-
marriage.

RAJA

Ah, that's nothing. They're all shy . . . first or fourth time
'round. They're all shy.

SECOND SOUL

 

Stop that. Please hurry.

(KISAN and RAJA act as Brahmin
priests in a hurried marriage
ceremony lasting a few moments.
They hold up a sheet to separate
the couple, then mumble a few
words, and finally they draw the
sheet away.)

KISAN

 

There. You're married now. (To SECOND SOUL) You know, something
just occurred to me. Your wife on earth made a contract to be yours
through seven lives. And what if she comes here?

SECOND SOUL

 

(Angry) She won't come here.
RAJA

You're right. She was a goddess on earth so she'll probably go to
Heaven. You'll never see her again.

SECOND SOUL

 

She was no goddess. (Points to VAMPIRE) Here's a real goddess!
Maybe I'll let you see her face.

(He lifts up her veil, then
screams in shock.)

Oh! No! I'm dead! I'm dead!
RAJA

What's the matter?

353

SECOND SOUL

 

She's my wife!
RAJA
Of course she's your wife! We just performed the ceremony.

SECOND SOUL

 

I mean she's my original wife. . . . The one who made the contract
for seven lives.

Bil-3A.
That's what I always say. Wherever you go, it's the same.
VAMPIRE

(Beating SECOND SOUL) So! You left me on earth to do mischief here
in Hell. A good thing I followed you.

PM

Why do you beat him? Can't you live in peace now?
VAMPIRE

I don't need yogr_suggestions. All men are the same!

(Sh? drags SECOND SOUL Off-
stage, mumbling.)

Are you hurt, my love?
(They exit.)
RAJA

(To KISAN) She's got a tender spot after all. Maybe they'll be
happy.

KISAN

Naturally. Men are always taken in by the charms of women. It's
mohini . . . the charms of a woman. (Musino) Mohini .
Mohini .

(On hearing these words, THIRD
SOUL enters--an old man leaning
on a walking stick.)

354

THIRD SOUL

 

Yes . . . Mohini . . . Mohini . . . Is somebody calling for my Mohini?
RAQA_

(To KISAN) Who's he? Is he looking for his love? . . . At his age?
Lem.

Maybe he's looking for his daughter.
RAJA

—-—-o——.—-.

Ah! You were saying Mohini, Mohini. And now hg_comes with a stick.
He's going to beat us. And ith aTl your fault. (He cowers in fear)

 

THIRD SOUL

 

(To both men) Did you call her name just now?
1:1. SAN.
No, no. Not us.

THIRD SOUL

 

Who are you? Where are you from? And how did you get here .
in human form?

KISAN

We're from Bombay.

THIRD SOUL

 

I'm happy to meet you. I'm from Bombay, too. (Looks to both men)
Have you found my Mohini?

 

BM.
Yes, I got a little of it.

THIRD SOUL
Then, how is she?

BM.

Very good.

355

KISAN
(To RAJA) You met her? Where?
RAJA

 

What do I know about his Mohini? I'm talking about Mohini tobacco.
A fine chewing tobacco. Not very expensive. And excellent taste . . .

KISAN

 

You fool! The man is asking you about his daughter. (To THIRD SOUL)
Isn't that right?

THIRD SOUL

 

Yes, she's my only daughter. And she should be getting married soon.
Have you seen her? (Both nod negatively) Now, how will I ever know
if she's married or not?

RAJA

 

I'll tell you. You give me her address and I'll go and meet her. (He
makes a move, but hits the invisible wall) Whoops, sorry. I don't
think I'll be able to do that. Why don't you put in a long distance
call? You can probably do it free from here.

KISAN

 

Stop that! (To THIRD SOUL) She's still unmarried? Is she young?

 

THIRD SOUL
She's over thirty.

RAQA_
She'll do.

M
What do you mean by that?

RAQA_
I mean she's old enough.

KISAN

For whom?

356

RAJA

 

For whoever wants her . . . except the two of us.

KISAN

 

(To THIRD SOUL) Why didn't you get her married off at the proper age?

THIRD SOUL

 

I tried, but I couldn't arrange a proper match. And then I died.
ELSA N.
It's no good looking for a proper match after a girl reaches thirty.
I believe a father should start looking around when his daughter
reaches the age of fourteen.
RAJA
Actually, I think he's come to the right place to look for a match.
meme:

Yes, young man. . . . You can have your fun. But it wasn't my fault.
She wanted to be free to finish her studies.

KISAN

 

But if she's pretty, there shouldn't be any problem.
THIRD SOUL

 

She's pretty, all right, but it's her age.
RAJA

Probably the attraction of her beauty must have passed its prime by
now.

THIRD SOUL

 

At first, I was ready to offer a dowry of five thousand. Then I made
it ten. Hearing this, a young man approached me. But he wanted me to
raise it to fifteen thousand. This gave me heart failure. That's how
I got here.

RAJA

What kind of beggar was it who asked for such a sum?

357

THIRD SOUL

 

On the contrary, he was a very rich man. He had many flats in
Calcutta and Delhi, and lots of servants and cars. How could I ever
think of giving my daughter to a beggar?

KISAN

 

(Musing) Delhi? . . . Calcutta? And asking for such a large dowry?
I hope it wasn't Madhav Kharate.

THIRD SOUL

 

That's him! How do you know him?

KISAN

 

That man would have swallowed your fifteen thousand rupees in no time,
along with your daughter. Thank god, you're saved!

THIRD SOUL

 

Why?
RAJA
Because he's a rogue, that's why.

THIRD SOUL

 

But how can a big shot like that be a rogue?
RAJA

Oh, because he has six wives and eight or ten children. He was engaged
to four other girls but I never found out what happened to them.

THIRD SOUL

 

Did each one go willingly, or were they forced into it?
RAJA

Yes, they willingly followed in the direction of their dowries.
Lem-551';

What about the parents? Were their eyes closed to the truth?

358

RAJA

Just like you. Weren't you all set to give up your daughter along with
ten thousand? Do you know him? He had many names.

THIRD SOUL

 

What a surprise! And all those poor wives and children!
51-555

Don't worry about them.
RAJA

I see Yama's looking for you. (Looks offstage)

THIRD SOUL

 

Then I'd better go.
(He exits.)

KISAN

 

(To RAJA) Why did you have to hurt the old man? Opening his wounds
about his daughter. For something like that they may not even let you
go to Hell.

RAJA

Ah, go to Hell yourself! Me? I'm taking a shortcut to the Moon.
(Looks to the sky) Look how near it is. (He tries to go but comes
up against the invisible wall.)

(Enter FOURTH SOUL--a former
scientist holding a telescope
to his eyes. He is examining
the heavens.)

FOURTH SOUL

 

Where is the Moon? Any my Baby Noon?

RAJA

_~.- --—

This one's different, isnt he Kisan? I think he's looking for his
little baby girl. Or, maybe it's a boy.

359

FOURTH SOUL

 

(Sees the two men) Who are you? Have you by any chance seen my little
Noon?

KISAN
You've come to the wrong place. No children here.

FOURTH SOUL

 

No, no. It's my Baby Noon. I sent it off with a pair of monkeys inside.
Nothing here.
FOURTH SOUL

 

(Surprised) You haven't heard about my Baby Noon? How ignorant can
a man be! You're far behind the world, sir.

55-15,
Not behind. We've been ahead of the world since we left it far behind.

FOURTH SOUL

 

Let me tell you what I am, sir. I am a scientist. I made many
important discoveries. My discovery of nitrogen gas, for example,
shocked the world. Single-handedly, I conquered nature.

RAJA.

But as I see, nature ultimately conquered you.

FOURTH SOUL

 

No! No! I'm immortal. The rocket Baby Noon, which I sent off with
its precious cargo of monkeys, is undoubtedly an inspiration to Mother
Nature herself and all her living creatures. By this deed, sir, I
have become immortal. Now, just tell me where this Mother Nature is.
I'd like to shake her hand.

RAJA

I think that's enough, now. Just what was so special about your rocket
experiment?

360

FOURTH SOUL

 

The idea was to find a suitable location on the Moon for human settle-
ment.

BAQA_

What will you do with the earth when everybody decides to move?
_LI-s-A-N.

Maybe he'll grow jungles all over the place.

FOURTH SOUL

 

Correct! Absolutely! Once everybody goes to the Moon, we start
growing jungles.

RAJA.

What if the plan fails? . . . And you bunqle your jungle?
Eerie-5955

Uh-uh. The plan is foolproof. Once man inhabits the Moon .
KISAN

Then he'll be able to relax at last. When man is hungry he'll just
stretch his hand out to Earth and pluck leaves from all those new
jungles you're going to grow.

RAJA

W

What do you propose to do on the Moon?

K15551-

 

Just sleep.
FOURTH SOUL

That's it! Sleep is vital. Sleep is the god of man.

KISAN
That's blasphemy . . . taking the name of god in vain like that.
FOURTH SOUL

 

You don't know how precious those monkeys were to me. My whole future
depended upon them. In fact I died with their names on my lips.

36l

KISAN

Why didn't you go in place of them? Frankly, I don't think there
would have been much difference either way.

FOURTH SOUL

 

A scientist, sir, is a scientist. And a monkey is a monkey.
55-5-5
And nature is nature.

FOURTH SOUL

 

(Angry) What did you say?

KISAN

_Q... -—

He says you're a great man.

FOURTH SOUL

 

Of course I'm great. Do you know that another of my discoveries is
so powerful, it can destroy the world in seconds. I call it hydrogen.
Now, you be the judge. Is there anybody greater than me?

 

Pi
Your father.

FOURTH SOUL
(Angry) What's that?

KI SA N_

 

He's just saying that if you're so great, imagine what your father
must have been.

FOURTH SOUL

 

This may be one of my future discoveries, and I wouldn't be .

RAJA

m-.—

(Looks offstage) Look, mister great scientist! Yama's out there
trying to discover ygg,

362

FOURTH SOUL

 

Oh, my god! I must be going. Now, what will I do with this telescope?
RAQA_
You can leave it with us. We'll take care of it.
FOURTH SOUL
Yes. Take care. It's my whole life.
(He exits.)
5.4.55.

It's five o'clock. I think Yama should be coming for us. What will
we do then? (Frightened)

KISAN

 

There's nothing to be afraid of.

(Sings Bhupaljftype early morning
§(lfi(].)

Wake up! It's dawn--
And the sun will soon be here .

(From backstage, slogans are heard:
I’Lonq Live India!” KISAN and

RAJA are interrupted and go to

see what's happening. Enter

FIFTH SOUL.)

FIFTH SOUL

_——-- —..—.e.

 

(Shouting as he enters) We'll go forward! We're not afraid of
guns! .

Bil-”l
Even here there's war. Oh, Lord, save us!

FIFTH SOUL

 

(Speech-like) The revolution of the thirties! And the revolution of
forty-two! The bullets of the British rained down on us like pellets
of rain from the darkest clouds. And we brave soldiers fought against
the storm. Why? For your Independence, that's why! With shrapnel

in our legs, we fought. But are you independent now? Who will tell
me the good news?

363

see
(To KISAN) Is this a hero from some drama?

KISAN

 

Looks like somebody who fought and died for Independence. I think he
was shot. He looks like a real soldier. Anyway, he doesn't seem to
know we've made it to Independence.

FIFTH SOUL

 

(Seeing the two men) How did ygu get here? (Muses) Do you know my
country?

 

 

 

RAJA
What country?

FIFTH SOUL
You don't know my India?

55-15
Not at all!

KISAN
India is Hindustan.

RAJA

_--—-..-

Hindustan! Well, I know Hindustan.

KISAN

 

It's also Bharat as well as India.
EAR)

I never knew a countr; can have so many names. (To FIFTH SOUL) We're
Indians.

ELEIE-SQHL

(Happily) Indians! Then, please tell me . . . is the country
independent now?

Yes.

364

FIFTH SOUL

 

And has the nation progressed much?
RAJA

Progressed? Of course! Why, just the other day, she was progressing
so fast that she overran her spare parts.

FIFTH SOUL

 

Is the nation so fragmented?
RAJA
The only place to see it as a whole is in the museum.

FIFTH SOUL

 

What a great pity! But at least we've got our Independence. That's
comforting. I can rest in peace now. (Pause) You've come from my
homeland. Please let me touch your feet.

RAJA
No-no. Not us. We're sinners.

FIFTH SOUL

 

That's all right. You've brought me the most wonderful news. That's
enough for me. (He touches their feet.)

eel-A-

Then take me for Hindustan and you can take him . . . Kisan . . . for
Pakistan. Now, just look at the two of us .

FIFTH SOUL

 

Dreadful sight. You both look so weak.

RAJA

 

Yes. That's because I'm starving and he's hungry.
KISAN

Oh, how I wish I had been shot during the revolution. I would have
prefered death to slavery at the hands of the selfish.

365

FIFTH SOUL

 

You can't mean that. If everybody believed this then who would be left
to serve the nation?

RAJA
Oh, there are many. So many. The big-shots have already organized
themselves to serve her. We applied, of course, but didn't have enough
money for a deposit. Our submissions were torn up. That's how it is.

FIFTH SOUL

 

Look, friends. Those who are after money alone cannot love their
country.

(Enter SIXTH SOUL)
SIXTH SOUL

My ticket! My ticket! (Sees the other three) Have you found my
ticket?

EM-

What ticket? Ticket for film? or drama? or Tamasha?

SIXTH SOUL

 

I don't know. My ticket to come up, they said.
Elflfl_§CHL
(Surprised) You need a ticket to come here?

SIXTH SOUL

 

Not for here. They let you come here without a ticket. I was talking
about my ticket for the election slate. My party leader said he'd
give me one so I could stand for election. I lived on this hope. But
at the last moment he had a heart attack and he came right here.
Naturally, I followed him. There was an open sewage pit near his

home and I was so upset I jumped into it.

3595
(Holds his nose) You might have found a better location.

SIXTH SOUL

 

I didn't stop to think. Now, gentlemen, I'd like to know if you've
seen this man. I'm out to kill him.

366

RAJA

 

I just saw him heading towards Heaven.

FIFTH SOUL

 

Pity! How can such a man go to Heaven?

SIXTH SOUL

 

He must have used his influence. I know very well how he became
party leader.

FIFTH SOUL

 

Who are you?
RAQA_

He's a leader. Just look at him. Can't you tell?
E! U H-fo-L';

(Happily) Oh! You're the leader of my India? Then, let me touch
your feet.

 

Just a minute! Don't touch him! All politicians are a pack of wolves.
They take advantage of the nation's independence to pad their own
pockets.

IFTH SOUL

(To SIXTH SOUL) But how did you get here?

SIXTH SOUL

 

Walking.

RAJA
It's the saints and the sadhus who go walking to Heaven. You know how
they do it? They get up early in the morning at about ten, and then
they stuff themselves with dried dates soaked in butter fat. Then they
walk a little . . . perhaps as many as ten steps. Then, five steps
back, and to replace this great expense of energy . . . a long
intoxicating drink of coconut juice. After this, fifteen steps
forward and lunch at twelve o'clock. The luncheon menu is modest.
A large vessel of pudding . . . some chanpaties . . . rice . . . and
perhaps twelve dozen bananas. It's a traditiOn. Sure ticket to
Heaven.

 

 

367

SIXTH SOUL

 

It's my_tradition! What's the point in justifying all this to you?
You wouldn't understand anyway.

KISAN

Oh, I can explain it. (Sings)

They play a game with Hindustan.
Don't tell it to the gods.

They deal in fraud and theft all day,
And call them righteous ways.

Their pockets lined with money,

They reach elected heights.

But pretty soon they change their tune,
Forgetting public rights.

FIFTH SOUL

 

(Sadly) What a sad situation!
(FIFTH SOUL exits.)
SIXTH SOUL

 

Now, how will I ever get my ticket?
RAJA

(Pointing) Look! There's the messenger. He's come with your ticket.

 

SIXTH SOUL
(Happily) My ticket!

LLB/LL
Yes. To hell.

SIXTH SOUL

 

As long as it's a ticket! At last, I've found a ticket.
(Exits mumbling)
My_ticket . . . my ticket . . .
KISAN

 

(To RAJA) There go two great patriots. One died for the nation . . .
The other for political power. Which is the greater patriot?

368

RAQA_
Political power.

KQSAN_
Why?

BAQA_

Because that politician managed to get his ticket even here.

(Backstage, a clock strikes six
o'clock.)

KISAN

 

Must be dawn. I never knew there was night and day up here. You
heard the clock striking six, didn't you? Should we sing a devotional
song? . . . A bhajan?

RAJA
I think a sensuous lavani would be more suitable to the occasion.

KISAN

 

But the gods like early morning songs. Helps them to get up.
RAJA
Sing what you like.

(Offstage announcement about the
entry of YAMA. A flourish.)

RAJA
I think Yama's coming.

OFFSTAGE VOICE OF YAMA

 

You earthlings! Be blessed!
RAJA
Hello! Hello? Who are you that you should bless us?

YAMA (OFFSTAGE)

 

I am Yama! You can return to earth. An error has been committed by my
messengers. The correction has been made. You are free to go.

369

KISAN

 

Can we have a look at the great Yama before we go?

YAMA (OFFSTAGE)

 

No.
RAJA

At least let us see the buffalo you always ride upon. I hear he's
a handsome animal.

YAMA (OFFSTAGE)

 

Not possible.
RAJA

Are we really such dreadful sinners that we can't be given the
opportunity of seeing you?

YAMA (OFFSTAGE)

 

It isn't that. My buffalo is on strike.
ELSA-N-

But, Maharaj . . . How did this happen?
YAMA (OFFSTAGE)

 

Since you people came from earth new ideas have been infecting our
domain. So, please don't linger. Just go!

RAJA
How are we supposed to go?

YAMA (OFFSTAGE)

 

There's an aircraft waiting for you.
(Noise of aircraft engines.)
Just hold on to the wings.
KISAN

 

So. It seems that an error may be corrected up here. That's not the
way it is back home. (To YAMA) Anyway, we're ready to go in spite

370

of the imperfections on earth. What we've seen here is no picnic. All
those lost souls, sad and searching. It's almost worthwhile struggling

to create Heaven on earth. Maybe then some of us will be able to find
moments of happiness.

(Sings)
We'll work to make a Heaven of earth.
Man is good enough and clever.

Heaven and Hell have little to tell.
Man is good enough and clever.

(THE END)

APPENDIX F

SHAHIRS OF MAHARASHTRA,

BY REGION

37l

APPENDIX F

SHAHIRS OF MAHARASHTRA,
BY REGION

The appended list of 328 shahirs, or people's poets, was

compiled for a special issue of the publication Shahir Naubat.1 The

 

issue was dedicated to the long tradition of shahiri writings and
compositions and especially to an association meeting held February 28
to March 2, l970. The list includes those shahirs living at the time.

A number are now deceased, including Shahir D.N. Gavanker, of Bombay.

 

1"List of Maharashtrian Shahirs," Shahir Naubat (Poona:
Hindustan Press, March, 1970), p. 70.

 

372

Bombay (62)

Atmaram Patil

P.D. Khadilkar
Krishnarao Sable
Dada Kondke
Liladhar Hegde
Madhu More

Chandu Bharadkar
Rambhau Khamkar
D.N. Gavankar

N.D. Bhide

Eknath Shinde
Ramakant Jadhav
Raghunath Modak
Shantaram Nandgaonkar
V.S. Naniwadekar
Narayanrao Surve
Vasant Bapat

Bapu Deshmukh
Pundlik Pharande
Datta Jadhav
Thorbole

K.G. Lokhande
Bhaskar Mungekar
S.H. Thatte

S.P. Bhosle

Jagtap

Jagnath Shinde
Madhav Shyamsunder
Ganpat Satpute
Advilkar

Datta Borkar
Gopalji Surve
Sadanand Lokhande
Vishnupant Sonavane
Manohar Joshi
Nivrutti Khatavkar
Vasant Puranik
Anant Agate
Shivram Chavan
R.V. Durgude
Baliram Deshmukh
Vasudel Dani
Patilba Nana Jadhav
Gajanan Lakambare
Bhagvanrao Londhe
Bhondeve

373

SHAHIRS, BY REGION

 

Yeshwant Palsule

L.A. Pradhan

Keshav Chavan
Chandrakant Manjrekar
Madhu Thakur

Sadanand Kanitkar
Narayanrao Mote
Vishwasrao Pawar
Piwalkar

Atmaram Ingalkar
Yeshwant Jadhav
Rambhau Merekar
Shrikrishna Thakur
Baburao Dhavle

Ganpat Patil

Mrs. Sushilabai Ranade

Poona (37)

Kisanrao Hinge
Yogesh

Vamanrao Mote
J.M. Nangre

J.G. Nargolkar
Nana Kasbe
Hanumant Padghal
Dnyaneshwar Mule
Suresh Parchure
N.D. Vairagar
D.S. Naniwadekar
Maruti Jadhav
Mohamadbhai Didhikar
Rambhau Shimpi
Ulpe

M.A. Naniwadekar
Baburao Galange
V.G. Phadke
Dagdoba Barbhai
Dyandeo Kate
Baburao Dhulekar
Sharapbhau Babre
D.G. Jagtap
Babanrao Poman
Rajabhau Deshmukh
Anna Marlolkar
Sampat Gaiwad
Ram Deshmukh

Bal Pataskar

Dattatraya Hingamire
Jamdade Patil
Madhukar Painter
Himant

Dnyanoba Shirsagar
Jejurikar

Balkrishna Shinde
Pachange Ranganath

Sangli District (35)

 

Raghunath Dikshit
Ramgauda Patil

Ram Savant
Daulatrao Khot
Apparao Khot
Bajarang Anvi

Pawar

Anantrao Suryavaunshi
Gangaram Jagtap
C.K. Patil
Shankarrao Nikam
M.A. Kulkarni
Jagamswami

R.B. Chaugule

R.V. Yadev

Vamanrao Kulkarni
Baburao Vibhute
Ranjam Vanganikar
Shankarrao Patil

S. Mule

Panditrao Kulkarni
Ramdas Satpute
Vishnu Suryavaunshi
Baburao Shervande
Shankar Appa Mendhe
Laxmanrao Sathe
Ovhal

D.B. Kapse
Ranganath Methe
Pandurang Nangre
Vishnu Kute
Baburao Narvade
Bapurao Mali
Bandopant Joshi
Shankarrao Shiralkar

Satara (l9)

Tukaram Jadhav
Baburao Nipane

agdoba Magare
D. Patil
L. Shinde
.D. Kadav
K. Yadav

M. Mangsulikar
A. Sapkal
hinchene

.V. Ekbote

V. Shinde

V.L. Bhoi

A.V. Pisal

L.K. Shirsagar
Raosahib Jagtap
Prabhakar Dhulaji
Ratnakar Veer
Devkule

Dhulia (8)

Pandurang Hekate
Nagesh Moghulaikar
Avinash Vani

R.M. Patil
Haribhau Patil
R.V. Indoriva

D.G. Vatar

B.N. Gosavi

Kolhapur (23)

N.M. Pethkar

J.J. Shingte
Pandurang Parkar
Mogbul Vaghmare
Krishna Chavan
Madhukar Shant
Kuntinath Karke
Koli Master
Jagdish Khebudkar
Piraji Sarnaik
Shripatrao Lokhande
Avherikar Guruji
Hindurao Sankpal
V.R. Pawar

T. Tenai

M.D. Ghatge

P.G. Potdar
Shriram Mande
Gopinath Julkarni
Maruti Maskar

Balaram Samkal
Ramchandra Irekar
Rajaram Patil

Nagar (6)

Kisanrao Gore
N.M. Landge

P.R. Vhaval
S.N. Savale
R.Y. Punde
H.R. Yadav

Sholagur (5)

R.B. Kulkarni

Y.P. Kher

Bhosle

Baburao Purandare
Bandopant Vaghapure

Dharashiv (2)

Sharif
Shrirang Deshpande

Parbhani (4)

Laxminarayan Sahu
Satyanarayan Purohit
Vithalrao Lubak
Prabhakar Vaikar

Bheed (2)

Gopalrao Kanelkar
B. Salegaonkar

Aurangabad (24)

 

B.K. Deshmukh
Ranganathrao Gujarmali
L.A. Veshav

Raji Saleem

Murlidhar Golatpaonkar
Ranganath Maharaj

Dr. Pawar

Dr. Gopalrao Joshi
Shelke

S. Ghodke

Balwantrao Joshi

375

G. Ahirkar
Pannalal Dayama
Ranganath Shotriya
Kedar Sharma
Rambhau Kale
Tatyarao Joshi
P.D. Gosavi

C. Kale

S.M. Sonur
Bhimrao Kulkarni
Sudam Magar

M. Jain

Sabre

Nanded (2)

V.G. Lurlekar
V.S. Chavan

Jalgaon (l3)

Keshavrao Marathi
Sakharam Joshi
B.G. Jagtap

P. Jamkhedkar
Kisenrao Bansod
R.B. Joshi

A.B. Jadhav
N.R. Attardey
Rajaram Vani
B.K. Ingle

M.L. Khedke

K. Kumawat

N.V. Mistry

Nasik (l2)

Vamanrao Kadam
Satyawar Suryawhanshi
R.M. Naniwadekar

A.V. Mule

Vasant Naid
Harishchandra Gaikwad
A. Parkhi

G.M. Nikam

A.V. Jagtap

R.V. Terekar

Datta Kachi

Pratap Pardeshi

Thana (l3)

N. Kapde

G.M. Khare
Bhaskar Raut
Shankarrao Kulkarni
Gajanan Wekhande
Kamalakar Patil
N.D. Darmamehar
Keshav Damle
Nagesh Kamli
Pandurang Patil
Harilaxman Patil
Harkare Guruji
G.N. Khataukar

Ratnagiri (7)

Nazre Guruji
S.D. Agashe
Kamalakar Wadkar
Chandravadan
Harish Savant
Berde

V.K. Ware

Amrawati (9)

Kisanrao Varpe
Motiram Chaudhari
Bhojane Patil

Mahadeo Amle

Ramesh Pawar

Suman Bandhu
Sharadchandra Singwha
Manohar Kavishwar
Suryakant Dahikar

Vardha (3)
Vithoba

Mahadev Kanare
Maruti Dada Kadu
Yawatmal (2)

Vishram Ranoji
H.M. Ghormade

376

Chanda (3)

Prabhakar Ghate
Champaral Ghate
Dadan Hajare

Akola (4)

Chorvat

Dedi Dive

Dr. R.G. Rajankar
Devrao Lote

Bhandara (l)
N.A. Bhurade

Nagpur (l5)

P. Bhingane
Pudalikrao Wag

V.N. Darvane
Prabhakar Nichkawne
Manikrao Motghare
P.L. Bhakre

Ramrao Patil
Ramachandra Kohaliwale
Vyankatrao Patil
A.G. Shrinivastav
Sharad Muthe

Anant Phandi
Suparao Deshmukh
Raoji Thakre

Suresh Savant

Colaba (7)

J.V. Date

C.V. Khade

Gowind Patil

H.M. Bhand
Shankarrao Telangi
Vasant Mandkar
Bhandu Patil

Buldhana (9)

B. Dhanasingh
Pundalik Gavle

377

Sampat Ahir
Gokulsingh Shatriya
Vasant Teburne

R.R. Thorat

Bapurao Patil
Lalibhau

Dhongarwas

APPENDIX G

RULES OF THE STAGE PERFORMANCES SCRUTINY BOARD,
GOVERNMENT OF MAHARASHTRA

378

APPENDIX G

RULES OF THE STAGE PERFORMANCES SCRUTINY BOARD,
GOVERNMENT OF MAHARASHTRA

The rules listed here are concerned with licensing and
controlling places of public amusement (other than cinemas) and with
performances for public amusement, including melas (festivals) and

Tamashas. They were established in l960.

CERTIFICATE OF SUITABILITY

137. Application for Certificate of Suitability:

 

1. Any person who desires to hold or provide for any amusement
performance, whether with or without tickets, shall, two
months before the date on which such performance is to be
held or provided for, apply to the Chairman of the Board for
the grant of a Certificate of Suitability therefor.

2. Such application shall be made in Form "I". Any application
which does not contain information about all the particulars,
contained in the said Form, to the satisfaction of the Board,
may not be considered by it.

l38. Grant of Certificate of Suitability, with or without conditions:

 

l. The board may, after considering the application and
obtaining such further particulars as it may deem fit, issue
a certificate of suitability in respect of such performances
either without any modification of the script, or with such
modifications which the Board considers are not open to any
of the objections specified in rule 139. Such certificates
shall be issued in Form ”J”.

2. If the Board considers, from the script submitted for scrutiny
or otherwise, that any such performance is open to any of the
objections specified in the next succeeding rule but the
deletion or modification of a part or parts will render it
suitable for public amusement, the Board shall communicate
to the applicants the proposals for the modifications and

379

380

give him a reasonable opportunity of making the necessary
modifications. If the Board is satisfied with the modifi-
cations agreed to be carried out by the applicant, the Board
shall issue a Certificate of Suitability in respect of the
performance in Form "J" and specify therein the conditions
subject to which it is issued.

I39. Power to refuse Certificate of Suitability and guiding principles

 

therefor:

l.

The Board may refuse to grant a Certificate of Suitability in
respect of any such performance, if from the script or other-
wise, the Board considers that the performance, or any part
thereof is against the interests of the Sovereignty and
integrity of India, or the security of the State, friendly
relations with foreign States, public order, decency or
morality, or involves contempt of court or is likely to
involve the commission of any offence or involves defamation
of any high personality (living or deceased) or of any person
(living or deceased) of repute in the literary, social or
political field or is grossly indecent, scurrilous or obscene
or is intended for blackmail.

Subject to the provisions contained in sub-rule (l), the
Board in exercising its power to sanction or refuse a
Certificate of Suitability shall be guided by the following
directions: General Principles, which shall guide the Board:

 

(i) No performance shall be certified as suitable, which will
lower the moral standards of those who see it. Hence sympathy
of the audience shall not be thrown on the side of crime,
wrong-doing, evil or sin;

(ii) Standards of life, having regards to the standards of
the country and the people to which the story relates, shall
not be so portrayed as to deprave the morality of the audience;

(iii) The prevailing laws shall not be so ridiculed as to
create sympathy for violation of such laws.

Application of General Principles: It is not desirable that a
performance shall be certified as suitable, which--

 

(A) Deals with crime in such a manner as to--

 

(i) Extenuate to Criminal Acts;
(ii) Depict the modus operandi of criminals;

(iii) Throw the glamour of romance and heroism over criminal
characters;

381

(iv) Enlist the sympathy or admiration of the audience for
criminal characters;

(v) Hold up to contempt those responsible for, or engaged in
the prevention, detection or punishment of criminals;

(vi) Create the impression that crime pays or is a normal
incident of ordinary life and not to be reprobated.

B) Deals with vice or immorality in such a manner as to;

 

i) Extenuate vicious or immoral acts;

(
(
(ii) Undermine the accepted canons of decency;
(iii) Depict vice or immorality as attractive;
(

iv) Cast a halo of success or glory round the vicious or
immoral;

(v) Enlist the sympathy or admiration of the audience for
vicious or immoral characters;

(vi) Suggest that the attainment of a laudable end is
justified by vicious or immoral means or improper motives;

(vii) Create the impression that vice and immorality are not
to be reprobated.

(C) Deals with the relations between the sexes in such a manner

 

as to;
(i) Lower the sacredness of the institution of marriage;

(ii) Suggest that illicit sexual relations are ordinary
incidents of life and not to be reprobated.

(D) Brings into contempt the armed forces or thegpublic
services or persons entrusted with the administration of
law and order and is intended or likely to;

 

 

 

(i) Wound the susceptibilities of any foreign nation or any
community or the followers of any religion;

(ii) Foment social unrest or discontent to such an extent as
to incite people to crime;

(iii) Promote disorder, violence, a breach of the law or
disaffection or resistance to Government.

140.

141.

142.

143.

382

(F) Attempts to defame;

 

(i) Any high personality (living or deceased);

(ii) Any person (living or deceased) of repute in the
literary, social or political field.

(G) Is grossly indecent, scurrilous or obscene, or is
intended for blackmail.

 

 

Access to Chairman and members, etc:

 

The Chairman, members and Secretary of the Board shall be given
free access to any place where any amusement performance is to
be or is being performed or exhibited, and two seats in the
highest class of accommodation shall be reserved for them by

the organiser of such performances. The Honorary Readers
appointed by the Chairman of the Board for scrutiny of scripts
shall also have such free access and be given such accommodation.

Power to suspend or cancel Certificate of Suitability:

 

1. If the Chairman or any member of the Board considers that the
whole or any part of the performance actually performed or
exhibited was not scrutinised and certified by the Board,
or had actually been excised by the Board, he may make a
report of the fact to the Board and also to the Licensing
Authority.

2. On receipt of such a report, the Board may suspend or cancel
the Certificate of Suitability granted under Rule 141, and
shall report the matter to the Licensing Authority as early
as possible.

Re-examination of scripts:

 

Notwithstanding anything contained in these Rules, the Board may
at any time of its own motion or on a representation made to it
in that behalf re-examine the script of any amusement performance
in respect of which a Certificate of Suitability has already been
granted by it under Rule 138 and if the Board is of the opinion
that the script is unfit for performance for public amusement on
any of the grounds referred to in Rule 139, the Board may suspend
or cancel the Certificate of Suitability granted by it under

Rule 138. The Board shall communicate its decision to the
Licensing Authority.

If any Certificate of Suitability granted under Rule 138 is lost
a duplicate copy thereof may be granted by the Board on appli-
cation.

144.

145.

383

Nothing in these Rules shall apply to amusement performances [of]

. . . Tamashas and Lavanis, the Scripts of which were published
before 1900 A.D., provided that after each publication no additions
or alterations have been made to such scripts.

Except in the case of Melas, the scripts of which were not
scrutinised and passed by the Board, nothing in these Rules also
apply to any amusement performances which are licensed under any
Licensing Rules in force in Greater Bombay immediately before
the commencement of these Rules.

Provided that the Board may, at any time of its own motion or on

a representation made to it in that behalf, examine the script

of any such performance and if the Board is of the opinion that the
script is unfit for performance for public amusement on any of

the grounds referred to in Rule 139, the Board may declare that

the exemption from the provisions of these rules granted by this
rule in respect of such performance is withdrawn. The Board

shall communicate its decision to the Licensing Authority.

384

FORM 'J'

(See Rule 141 of the Rules for Licensing and Controlling Places of
Public Amusement, etc.)

Certificate of Suitability issued by the Stage Performances
Scrutiny Board.
No. of the certificate
Date of issue
Name of the applicant

Name of the party represented by the
applicant

Address of the applicant

Date of application
Title of the script and name of the author
Name of the publisher

Year of publication and number of the
edition

Certified that the script of the above mentioned amusement per-
formance is suitable for performance or exhibition for public amusement
in the State of Maharashtra provided that the following conditions shall
be complied with:

Conditions:
Chairman,
Stage Performances Scrutiny Board,
Government of Maharashtra, Bombay.

Rule made by State Government

The Chairman, Members and Secretary of the Stage Performances
Scrutiny Board shall be oiven free access to any place where any
amusement performance is to be or is being performed or exhibited
and two seats in the highest class of accommodation shall be reserved
for them by the organiser of such performance.

385

FORM '1'

(See Rule 140(2) of the Rules for the Licensing and Controlling Places
of Public Amusement, etc.)

Form of Application for Certificate of Suitability of
Amusement Performance
Full name of the applicant
His age
His address

Name and address of the party on behalf
of which the application is made

Nature of the performance (whether Drama,
Tamasha, Mela etc.)

Title of the script submitted for scrutiny
Name of the author

Name and address of the publisher

Year of publication

Number of edition submitted for scrutiny
Number of copies submitted

Date:
Signature of the applicant

(1) If an applicant cannot sign the application form he can send
it with his thumb impression taken in the presence of a Police Patil
or a Mamlatdar and attested by him.

(2) Any person who desires to hold or provide any amusement per-
formance shall at least two months before the date on which such
performance is to be held or provided for the first time apply to the

Chairman for grant by the Board of a Certificate of Suitability therefor.

(3) Such application shall be made in Form '1'. Any application
which does not contain information about all the particulars mentioned
in the said Form to the satisfaction of the Board may not be considered
by it.

APPENDIX H

PHOTOGRAPHS

386

387

"Still-life" of Maharashtrian folk instruments used in Tamasha.
Centre, the large circular percussion instrument, the ggf, and
to the left is the one-stringed tuntuni (standing), which is
partly hidden by a smaller gpf_called hglgjg resting in fore-
ground upon the two-sided ghplki drum. Slightly to the rear
and right of the large g;: are two drums that look like 5391;:
ggggg but they are more properly called §pmpgl. Further to
the right is another tuntuni. Tiny drum in front of the large
gig is called a kanjiri, and the jangling instrument strung to
wooden rods are the lgjim, Lost in the foreground, and to the
left of the lgjjm, are the small cymbals (ppgl or manjeera).
(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

 

Plate I

388

PLATE II

Lata Lanka Nandurekar, third from right, and members

of her own sangeet-baari, or music-and-dance troupe.

 

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

PLATE III

Shahir Amar Shaikh, in 1968, a year before his accidental
death. A masterful, inspiring propagandist for the
Communist cause and, later, for linguistic rights of
Maharashtrians, he used the Tamasha form to spread his
ideas and helped to shape the form to suit modern social
needs.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

 

 

 

P1ate II

Plate III

 

390

PLATE IV

A farmer prods his animals in a scene from Shahir

Amar Shaikh's l965 production of Jau Tethe Khaoo

 

("Wherever We Go We Eat").
(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

PLATE V

Shaikh reaches climactic moment of patriotic

ballad in Wherever We Go We Eat.

 

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

 

 

 

391

 

Plate IV

 

Plate V

392

PLATE VI

Plaintive expression of starving beggar is captured

by Shaikh during rousing ballad from Wherever We Go

 

We Eat.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

PLATE VII

Note accompanists to Shaikh. From left, instruments
are: tuntuni, cymbals or thpl, ggj, and gpplkj_
(drum). Dpplkj_and gaf traditionally set rhythms in
Tamasha, and there is intimate improvisational inter-
play between singer and musicians.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

 

 

393

 

Plate VI

 

Plate VII

394

PLATE VIII

Farmer's dance performed with typical Tamasha
stamping footwork (to gain maximum sound from the
ankle-bells), and hand gestures, from Amar Shiakh's
production of Wherever We Go We Eat. Note QDQIEIr
player working closely with dancers.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

PLATE IX

Shahir Liladhar Hegde's troupe performing for the
youth socialist movement, Rashtra Seva Dal (R.S.D.),
which sponsors village tours of Tamashas to further
its aim of secularizing Maharashtrian society.
Shahir Hegde has more recently accepted government-
sponsored work in publicizing national development
programs among the rural masses.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

395

 

Plate IX

396

PLATE X

Vasant Sabnis, right, author of the brilliantly

successful Tamasha—style play, Vichya Maji Purikara,

 

("Fulfill My Desire“), has written himself into
opening moments of the play with leading star Dada
Kondke. The piece is a satirical look at social

and political injustices and false personal morality.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

PLATE XI

Sabnis' play owes much of its success to Dada Kondke,
left, whose improvisations and witty lampoons of
local social and political figures and situations

are enormously pOpular.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

 

.-. __--—_~—— #
. #r

397

Plate X

 

 

Plate XI

398

PLATE XII

Shahir Sable, age forty-eight when interviewed in
1971 for this study, has been directing his own
sophisticated brand of Tamasha-type entertainments
for more than thirty years. His avowed aim: to
raise the level of social consciousness of the
people. His troupe includes full-time workers at
Bombay railway shops; his appeal is directed to
urban classes and rural peasants.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

PLATE XIII

Sable, at microphone, and members of his troupe
during opening devotional song at a performance.

(Rjdatt Photos, Bombay)

399

 

Plate XII

 

Plate XXIII

400

PLATE XIV

Sable, in the l940s, as a musician and ballad-singer
who performed povadas (ballads) through the country-
side in support of Indian national independence.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

PLATE XV

Sable's 1968 production, Aikyachi Wadi Budruk

 

("A Place Called Budruk"), featured noted character
actor Raja Mayekar. Mayekar has since quit Sable's
troupe to form his own.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

 

Plate XIV

 

Plate XV

402

PLATE XVI

A song-and-dance sequence enlivens a scene from

A Place Called Budruk.

 

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

PLATE XVII

Raja Mayekar is seen here in a 1968 production

of Sable's Yamarajyat EK Ratra ("One Night in Hell").

 

Note use of stylized costuming reflecting Sable's
attempt to experiment with methods of presentation
by the adoption of indoor theatre techniques.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

 

403

 

Plate XVII

404

PLATE XVIII

Although these Tamasha singer-dancers are dressed in
traditional nine-yard Maharashtrian saris, and wear
ghungrus, or ankle-bells, they carry a special message
of modern intent. The girls are seen in a performance

of Sable's Andhala Daltai ("Blind Man Grinds"). The

 

piece was a call to Maharashtrian awakening and served
for a time as support for the right-wing political
party, Shiva Sena. When the party began actively to
contest local and state elections, Sable withdrew the
play and his personal support, since he believed his

status as an artist was being compromised.
(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

PLATE XIX

Dadu Indurikar, long-time "raw" Tamasha character-
actor and Songadya (jester), tours with his troupe

in a successful production of Gadhavacha Lagna

 

("Donkey's Marriage"), written in 1970 by Shahir
Vadgondar with support from Bombay's New Hanuman
Theatre.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

 

Plate XVIII

 

Plate XIX

 

406

PLATE XX

Scene from Donkey's Marriagg_features Radhu Mali,
Tamasha actor of long standing, who rose from
humble peasant beginnings, but who believes he

has gained very little economically or socially
from his profession. His average monthly income
is l50 rupees ($20), and he is normally unemployed
three months of each year during monsoons.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

PLATE XXI

Indurikar's troupe, moving through audience in a

climactic moment from Donkey's Marriagp,

 

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

 

 

407

 

 

I
X
x

e
t

a
.I
P

408

PLATE XXII

Baburao Punekar, a leading Tamasha artist, is
honored at a l970 ceremony in Poona by the Marathi
novelist Professor N. C. Phadke.

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

PLATE XXIII

P. L. Deshpande, Marathi humorist and playwright,
performs his own monologues that keep audiences
spellbound. He has also written scripts in

Tamasha-style, including Wanted A Leader, produced

 

in the 19505 for the Socialist youth organization,

Rashtra Seva Dal, or R.S.D.

 

(Rajdatt Photos, Bombay)

 

 

409

       
  

Plate XXII

Plate XXIII

' 410

PLATE XXIV

Daulat-jgdda, the tradition of offering money for song
or dance requests, is a special feature in "raw" Tamashas
and an important convention permitting real contact
between audiences and artists. Photo was taken at the

Aryabhushan Theatre, Poona.

PLATE XXV

More daulat-jadda at the Aryabhushan Theatre, Poona.

 

 

 

 

 

411

 

Plate XXIV

‘- ll}._\g;g-_;_g Lg; "

i
.L .-
pf»

liiré

Plate XXV

”TW"

‘ “‘\~

»._

.fl é§
.97 g

. is“

 

412

PLATE XXVI

Scenes from A Tale of the Onion of Intelligence by
Shankar Patil, translated and adapted for English-
speaking Western audiences, were presented at Michigan
State University in 197l, for a benefit in aid of
Bangladesh refugees in India. Marathi musicians and

American acting students were used for the production.

PLATE XXVII

Gaulan (milkmaids and Krishna) segment of A Tale of

the Onion of Intelligence at Michigan State University

 

production.

413

 

Plate XXVI

 

Plate XXVII

APPENDIX I

PLOT OUTLINES OF TAMASHA VAGS

(FOLK DRAMAS)

414

APPENDIX I

PLOT OUTLINES OF TAMASHA VAGS
(FOLK DRAMAS)

(l) A traditional ypg_deals typically with mythological or pseudo-

(3)

historical characters. One concerns a certain King Vikram who

is told by a wise man about untold wealth that might be found

in the Himalayas. A wicked minister confides to the audience that
he will arrange for the King's handsome young son to go to the
mountains in search of the great wealth. It seems the minister

is jealous of the prince and is conspiring with two servants to
have the lad killed on the expedition. The plot is somehow uncovered
when the prince's sweetheart disguises herself as a man and goes
off with the King's loyal servant to hunt for the prince in the
Himalayas. The prince is located and the wicked minister is appre-
hended. Ultimately, the wise man's pious posture is seen for what
it really is--a sham.

Andhala Daltai (”Blind Man Grinds”), by Shahir Sable, written in
1967:7is based on the proverb which notes that a blind man grinds
but a stray dog may eat the flour being ground with complete
impunity. The ypg_is moralistic, almost right-wing in its politi-
cal implications, depicting the exploitation of Maharashtrians in
their own society (in Bombay) by Gujaratis and Madrasis.

 

A village patil comes to Bombay where he meets a Marathi basket
carrier who unfolds his tale of woe, bemoaning the fate of
Maharashtrians in the cosmopolitan environment of the city and
blaming other regional groups for unemployment and deprivation
among Marathis. One after the other, more Marathis encounter the
patil to tell of their victimization. When the patil at last tries
to help he is rewarded with a beating.

Frustrated, he asks the basket carrier the way to the railway
station. He is ready to return to his village.

Aika Ho Aika (”Listen to me"), by Shantaram Patil, 1951, follows

 

the pattern of most simple va 5 which are designed to appeal to
simple village folk. The p ot involves a love affair between
Dinkar, son of a former Tamasha dancer, Myna, and a rich upper
class girl, Shobha. The girl's father is against the proposed
marriage because of the boy's family background. The boy, however,
is unaware of his mother's former profession. Myna, realising the
moment of truth has come, tells her son the story of her youth.

It is acted out as a long flash back, taking up almost the entire
length of the play. In the revelation, we learn that Shobha's

415

416

father is no paragon of virtue himself; that twenty years ago he
was chasing Myna, and that he was in fact the cause of all her
troubles until she was saved by the man who was to become her
present husband.

At the end of the flash back, Shobha's father is made to feel
remorse and he finally gives permission to his daughter to marry
Dinkar. The play ends happily.

Asun Adchan Nasun Kholamba ("A Wife in Name Only") by Chandrakant

 

Shettey, T968, is a witty farce about conflicting family loyalties,
featuring a daughter who appears more devoted and loving to her
father than to her husband. The daughter's impetuousness and
conniving lead her to demand a cow as a gift from her husband.

When the husband returns one day with the cow, his father-in-law
comes upon the scene to claim it as his own. We learn the old

man had arranged to sell the animal to his son-in-law while disguised
as an old farmer.

It soon becomes apparent that the sale was all part of a plan
by the old man to liquidate his assets and to move into his son-
in-law's home. Unfortunately, when the old man searches his
pockets, he realizes with a shock that he has lost the money
earned from all the transactions. The anguish is short-lived,
however, because it is soon revealed that the son-in-law had
actually outwitted his father-in-law and conviently picked his
pocket.

The result is a happy one. The wife is forced to turn to
her husband for security and protection, and craftiness is
extolled as a virtue. Romantic love appears to have little to
do with the story.

Bapacha Baap (”Father's Father“) by Shahir Sable, 1956, follows

 

the expTOits of Brahma, the creator, who returns to earth because
he wants to judge the situation of the world for himself, having
heard that mankind is trying to reach out and challenge the gods.
Accompanied by the god Narad, he drops in on a temple where people
are singing devotional songs. The scene appears normal enough
until the visitors became aware that the temple is dedicated to
the builder instead of to god. Brahma and Narad next visit the
home of the temple-builder who nearly turns them away until they
tell him they are wealthy businessmen. The builder turns warm
and effusive and he invites them inside where they watch help-
lessly as the man feeds his dog huge quantities of food.

Next stop in their travels is a depressed slum where the two
gods are accosted by a poor man. The visitors pose as film
producers and the poor man tries to impress them with his acting
talents and invites them to his own dramatic club which turns out
to be an illicit liquor shop near a temple. The offended gods
leave.

 

417

They soon reach a pilgrim site where a little boy offers lodg-
ings and a tour of the religious objects for a price, but the
visitors move on until they meet a phony holy man who is more
interested in money than devotion. Another disappointing con-
frontation occurs with a school master who takes them to be
inspectors.

By this time, the two celestial tourists are ready to return,
filled with disappointment at the state of corruption upon earth.
But a chance stop at a poor farmer's hut changes their hearts.
Brahma is so touched by the farmer's unselfish kindness that he is
moved to remark, at the close of the play: "Until today, I have
been called the father of mankind. But today, I know there is
somebody greater. It is this farmer. Today he is my father.
Today, he is father's father."

(6) Daa ("The Blot") by Namdev Vatkar. In a preface to the third
edition of the script (l96l), Vatkar says the play represents the
true story of a Tamasha dancer from an untouchable caste. In the
play she is called Shakuntala, a member of the Mahar community.

The work opens upon a Tamasha rehearsal. Shakuntala is
dancing, watched with admiring eyes by Bapurao, a Brahmin by
caste. The rehearsal is interrupted when Shakuntala's Brother,
Vithal, returns from his studies in the city. He announces to
everyone within earshot that he plans to marry a Brahmin girl.
Bapurao is dismayed, declaring the idea absurd because it would
destroy the caste system. A quarrel ensues between Bapurao and
Vithal, but it is quickly broken up by the entry of Dr. Ruby, a
woman doctor, who has come to tell Bapurao that his brother is
in hospital and in urgent need of blood. Bapurao, however, is
heartless; he can't bring himself to volunteer his own blood because
of some old feud over the succession of his family's estate. Dr.
Ruby leaves in a huff. She is a former member of the Mang un—
touchable community, we are told, who later converted to
Christianity.

A sub-plot is developed to further complicate the story.
Shakuntala's father enters; he is badly beaten, having dared to
draw water from the well traditionally used by Brahmins. The point
is starkly made that untouchables are still second-class citizens
in spite of modern attempts to do away with the social evils
stemming from the caste system.

More complications occur when Vithal learns that the parents
of his would-be wife are opposed to the union, and he is further
victimised by Bapurao and his brother (now released from hospital)
who come to talk him out of the marriage.

One of the catalysts advancing the action of the play is Dr.
Ruby. She returns to urge Shakuntala to speak out in the name

418

of truth and justice. Shakuntala does so. It seems that as a
young girl of sixteen she was abducted by Bapurao and, with
promises of marriage, she became a Tamasha dancer. Bapurao sent
her back home when he learned she was pregnant. Care for the
pregnant woman and later for Shakuntala's child was assumed by
the good Dr. Ruby. With the story now in the open the doctor
berates Bapurao's brother: she tells him there were no Brahmins
willing to donate blood for him and that the only one who came
forth with the gift of life was Shakuntala's father.

Instead of solving problems, the news serves to further inflame
the passions of the villagers. Vithal, for one, is victimised to
the point of agreeing not to pursue his marriage plans.

Dr. Ruby comes up with one suggestion to help Shakuntala:
both Shakuntala and her child should be baptized into Christianity
in order to escape the viscious cycle of caste recriminations.
It seems like a good idea and suddenly the songadya (jester) of
Shakuntala's troupe comes forward to declare that for love of
her he would also become baptized. From the morass of problems
and indecisions, Vithal gains new strength and urges his sister
to marry songadva and leave her child with him. Or. Ruby takes
this as a rebuff and she leaves.

In another scene, Bapurao's brother asks Dr. Ruby to remove
the untouchable blood from his body. It seems he is also being
persecuted by his fellow Brahmins. In his new state of awareness
and understanding, he waives his objection to Vithal's proposed
marriage.

The unwieldy play ends when Shakuntala leaves her little son
with her brother and goes off with songadya to begin a new life.

Deshbhakta Ghotale (”Ghotale the Patriot”) by Annabhau Sathe,

 

published in l957, deals with the patriotic social worker, Ghotale,
who travels from village to village to publicize State Government
five-year programs. In one village in Southern Maharashtra,
Ghotale finds he is the victim of hostility and suspicion among
the peasants. The patriot is the guest at the house of the
village patil who, we learn, is despised for his harsh rule and
economic domination. On the second day, the patil and the social
worker go on rounds through the village but the villagers refuse
to listen to the government-sponsored messages. A general meeting
is arranged by the patil, but it turns out to be a failure.
Ghotale refuses to speak publicly after insults are directed

at him. The mission is a total failure, and the patriot heads

off in the direction of another village.

The implication for the audience is that a new spirit, free of
alliances with the traditional oppressive power structure

419

(symbolised by the patil), is the only way to reach the rural masses
directly. By further implication, largely because of what is not
said, that new spirit was to be found in Communist ideology. At

the time of the writing of this play, the Government had already
imposed strict control and censorship of all Tamasha productions.

Gadwhacha Lagna ("Donkey's Marriage“), first produced by Dadu
Indurikar and his troupe in l970, begins with Indra, king of the
gods, expressing offense at the indiscretions of his son. By
means of a certain curse, he sends the handsome young man to earth
in the form of a donkey. The curse is to be lifted only if the
donkey succeeds in marrying a particular princess on earth.

 

The scene shifts to earth where a farmer is seen trudging home
with his donkeys. He looks up to find an extra donkey has joined
the others, and decides to keep the animal. At the court of the
local king, meanwhile, the princess--object of Indra's challenge
to his son--is undergoing questioning about her choice of a husband.
She replies she will accept anyone capable of building a three-
storey house overnight. The idea, she says, came to her from Indra,
in a dream. The king is disturbed but he nevertheless agrees to
his daughter's wish, and he proclaims the challenge to all, coupled
with a warning that those who take up the call and fail will lose
their heads.

The donkey-prince is tempted by the dare and he gets the farmer
to secure from the king a note agreeing to give his daughter to his
son, even if the son be stupid or mad, or just a silly "ass,"
provided the challenge is successfully met.

That night, the three-storey house is built and the king is
forced to proceed with the wedding between his daughter and the
donkey. But in the midst of the bizarre wedding ceremony, the
donkey turns into a handsome prince. The story of the curse is
now explained and the play ends on a happy fairy-tale note.

Hapapacha Maal Gapapa ("It Doesn't Belong to Us”) by Madhukar
Lokhande and Sharad Joshi, written in l957, concerns the simple
peasant existence of two farmers who firmly believe that if they
plant a horse in the ground they will reap a crop of horses. They
plant a dead horse and head home. In their absence, an Arab
bedouin comes into view, leading two fine horses to the field to
graze. The bedouin himself wanders away just as the farmers
return. They are overjoyed to see the first of their new "crop"
of horses grazing happily. Legal complications follow when the
bedouin returns to claim his animals. But by shrewd legal logic
the farmers win their case. Their argument before the village
patil was that if one planted corn one reaped corn, and if one
planted rice one reaped rice. Logically, therefore, planting a
horse would produce horses!

 

420

(10) Jalimanchi Peekli Karvanda ("The Fruit is Ripe") by R. Bargir,

 

1970, deals with Shripati, son of the village patil, who is
watching a lively Tamasha performance. He appears to be attracted
to the star dancer, Chandra. The girl is also the favorite of
Krishna, son of another village head. In fact, Krishna has per-
suaded the girl to stay behind in the village for a time.

Shripati is jealous; he offers Chandra money for a private
performance at his house but she refuses. Shripati now learns
about the liaison between the girl and Krishna. This comes as
a complete surprise because Krishna is supposed to be engaged to
marry Shripati's own sister, Laxmi. When Krishna enters, a quarrel
erupts. Chandra and her father are both upset about the turn of
events. The old man tries to get Krishna to give up all claim to
his daughter. Meanwhile, Shripati tells Krishna's father about
the scandalous behavior of his son. Subsequent pleas to Krishna
are useless; the young man finally decides to leave home and to
join Chandra's Tamasha troupe.

One day, while Krishna is away, Shripati confronts Chandra
in a bid to win her over. She refuses and some strongmen are
used in an effort to take her away. Krishna returns conveniently
and a fight breaks out. Chandra's father ends up in hospital.

Shripati is at his wit's end. He tells his sister Laxmi about
the situation and she then goes to Chandra to resolve the problem.
Not satisfied with this attempt, the jealous young man visits
Chandra and forces her to dance, using a whip for persuasion.
Krishna happens to return at this moment and he flays Shripati
with his own whip.

On another occasion, Shripati tries a more gentle and romantic
approach but this too is conveniently interrupted, this time by
his sister Laxmi, who now sees her brother's evil ways.

Shripati leaves and Laxmi tries to get everybody to accept
the marriage of Chandra and Krishna for the sake of harmony.
Krishna learns the good news from Chandra and the marriage date
is fixed. But a trick is played and after the ceremony, Krishna
learns that his bride is really Laxmi in disguise. It was all a
plan cleverly designed by Chandra who, it turns out, is really
a half sister by previous marriage by her mother to Shripati's
real father, now deceased.

The complications are resolved by bizarre revelations and
there is general happiness and a closing song in praise of morality
and truth.

Kalu Balu, a ypg_normally performed by ”raw” Tamasha troupes.

Power and rivalry is the dominant moving force of this clumsy

 

(13)

(14)

421

melodrama. An army chief professes his love for a beautiful queen,
whose husband, the king, has been ill for some time. The chief,
plotting to usurp the throne, plots the death of the king, sug-
gesting the queen herself administer poison in her husband's
medicine. Unknowingly, the king's younger brother is the one who
administers the loaded medicine. The king dies but not before

two loyal constables, aware of the plot, try to prevent the king
from drinking the poison. From this high point of action and
interest, the rest of the piece is devoted to apprehending the
guilty. Justice is served in the end even if the king is lost.

Kunacha Kunala Mel Nahi (”Chaos All Around“) by Vyankatesh
Manglkar, written inTT958, takes a critical look at the con-
temporary political system. A simple uneducated dhobi (washerman)
is given a few impressive words to memorize and he 15 then propelled
into a position of power. The result is a farcical comment on the
inane, high-sounding speeches of many political leaders.

 

Lavangi Mirchi Kolhapurchi (”A Spicy Tale From Kolhapur”) by Shankar
Patil,‘l968, is a witty piece about a man who couldn't be satisfied
with just one wife. Jaisingh is the main character. He is a wealthy
married peasant who suddenly develops a strong interest in a saucy
Tamasha dancer Sundra. Friends persuade him not to marry again

but to take the girl home with him as a concubine. Jaisingh's

wife and the rest of the family are naturally disturbed about the
turn of events. Jaisingh's father-in-law is particularly angry

and he storms over to the house to give vent to his wrath. The
visit, however, coincides with that of Sundra's mother who has

come to beg for the return of her daughter. Suddenly, there is

a flash of recognition between Sundra's mother and Jaisingh's
father-in-law, and the audience now learns that the two are lovers
from way back and that they are in fact the parents of Sundra.
Jaisingh is given permission and blessings to marry Sundra.

 

After the marriage the two wives begin to quarrel bitterly.
Jaisingh is forced out of the house, a fact which shocks the
women into a semblance of peaceful coexistence for the sake of
harmony. Jaisingh is eventually persuaded to return home.

In time, however, the rivalries break out again, but just as
Jaisingh is ready to leave the house once more, a third woman
enters in search of him. It appears she had fallen in love with
him during his recent leave from home. Now the two wives unite
against the common enemy. In a compromise solution suggested by
Jaisingh's friends, the third woman is eliminated and the wives
agree upon a division of labor at home in order to keep the peace.

Mitharani (“Sweet Queen”) by Patthe Bapurao, was written early

this century, and follows the fortunes of a king's daughter who

has married a pauper. The couple is evicted by the angry king

(I5)

422

and they travel a great distance until they meet another king who
tries to alienate the affections of the princess. The young woman
spurns the advance and the king is thereupon moved to adopt the
traditional Indian pose of humiliation and to accept the woman

as his "sister."

The songadya (jester) assumes an important role in the piece;
he saves Mitha Rani from her troubles and he advances the plot
action as well as whatever little humorous intent there may be.
The young husband believes the worst of his wife and he is moved
to reject the material world by becoming a sadhu, or holy man.

Nartaki ("The Dancer") by Gopal Takalkar, l968. Like most vags
meant for simple peasants of the backward classes, this tale
concerns the fortunes of a shahir or poet and the two loves in
his life.

Early in life the shahir is thwarted by his father, the village

atil, in his attempt to join a Tamasha troupe. He is sent off to
college to pursue a career in agriculture. Eventually, he marries
a girl who is so frightened of him that he is forced, for the sake
of personal solace, to resume composing songs and dialogues for
Tamasha troupes. When he begins to suspect that his wife has had
previous marital affairs, he leaves home and takes up with the
lovely Radha, a Tamasha dancer. He joins her troupe and love
blossoms between them.

Back at the shahir's home, his wife Laxmi is visited by her
male cousin at the moment when her father-in-law is away. The
shahir returns home just as the cousin is about to embrace his
wife. Believing his wife to be completely unfaithful, the

shahir storms out again.

The cousin swears revenge and manages to gain the confidence
of Radha's father in his attempt to destroy the love between Radha
and the shahir.

In another scene, the shahir's wife visits Radha who had been
unaware of her love's married state. Radha later suggests to her
love that he had misunderstood his wife's basic goodness. The
shahir then proposes that all three might be able to live happily
together--something which Radha's father strongly objects to. The
old man informs the evil cousin who makes a new bid to win away
the girl's affections when the shahir is absent. To do this he
rends the girl unconscious with some chloroform. Upon his return,
the shahir is saddened not to find Radha and he is told she
willingly went off with the cousin. He returns to his wife.

When Radha regains consciousness, the cousin tries to make
love to her, but at this convenient moment a member of his wife's

(17)

(18)

423

family comes to tell him she's at the point of death. The cousin
remains unmoved and the relative is driven to kill him. Radha's

father is told of the situation and he volunteers to accept guilt
for the murder in order to win respect for his own intransigence.

Radha is brought to the shahir's house, and all past differ-
ences between the shahir and his wife Laxmi are explained. Radha
takes her leave very regretfully, praising her lover's artistic
gifts. '

Prema, Tuje Naav Vasana (”Lust For Love“) by S. B. Chavan, 1968,
is the story of the life of the great Tamasha shahir, Pathe Bapurao.
The ypg_traces the well-known events in the life of the renegade
Brahmin who quit his family ties to join a Tamasha troupe. The

 

story of his romance with the dancer Pavala is also included,

notably the manner in which the shahir won over the girl in a play
of musical riddles called sawal-jabab. Toward the close of the
work, however, the decline is predictable: caste differences eat .
away at the relationships between the shahir and the rest of the
troupe. The stars quit and the quality of the artistry of the
troupe declines. Pavala leaves and Bapurao himself is brought

to ill-health, poverty and loneliness in the end.

 

 

Tara Rani (”Star Queen”), a story which comes originally from the

literature of the Jains and the Buddhists, and which found its

way into folk drama as a ypg_in the l940s, according to anthro-
pologist Durga Bhagvat. Tara Rani is a Tamasha artist who
abandons her tiny son and her daughter in the streets. The
daughter is adopted by a wealthy Delhi businessman, while the

son is taken in by another wealthy man from Vijaypur. Years pass,
and by chance, brother and sister meet and fall in love. They
marry and produce a son. In a vision the god Shankar reveals to
the mother the truth about her husband, whereupon the woman
commits suicide. The young husband, meanwhile, comes to the
place where his mother (Tara Rani) lives. He meets her and,

like Oedipus, he and his mother become lovers. A son is born

of their union; but Tara Rani is soon visited by Lord Shankar,
and she learns that her lover is really her son. She, too, kills
herself, taking the life of her new-born infant son with her.

Teen Pidhyancha Vairi (”Enemy for Three Generation") by Pandurang

 

Jadhav, is a work of the l960s which deals in melodramatic fashion
with long-standing family feuds and current struggles and
jealousies--all centered about affections of lovely Tamasha
dancers. Against this background, an unscrupulous village patil
corners a newly arrived Tamasha dancer, Radha, and her dholki-
player Waghya. A series of private performances are arranged

for with handsome payments to the artists. The atil's wife

learns of the situation and with the help of her uncle Ramji,

she confronts her husband but gets beaten up for her effort.

(19)

424

Radha comes to the conclusion that a man who puts drink and women
above his family is useless and she decides to leave. The patil
is stubborn and locks up the girl in his house.

A public performance is planned by the patil in spite of the
artist's protestations. The event is to become the climax of the
play. Ramji's long-lost son, Krishna, returns with his friend,
posing as military officers. During the performance, the lights
go off and Radha disappears in the confusion. Rumour has it that
Ramji's son has returned and has freed the girl, and the patil,
blind with rage, captures Ramji as ransom for return of Radha.
Soon, the village learns that Krishna has also managed to free
Ramji and that the patil, his servant, and Waghya, the dholki-
player, are in hot pursuit. To make matters more complicated,
the patil's wife also disappears.

The unravelling is a complicated affair. At a critical moment,
the wife sheds a disguise and claims that she was responsible for
freeing Radha and Ramji. Krishna then appears on the scene to
resolve hidden truths about the old family feud. Shots are fired
in anger, and Ramji is killed by mistake by the atil, but with
his dying breath he gives his blessings to the union between Radha
and his son Krishna. The patil realises his mistake in having
distrusted Ramji all these years, when in fact it was Ramji who
had tried to protect his family.

Tu Maji Ladki Myna ("You Are My Beloved Myna Bird") by D. M.

 

Mirasdar, first produced in l970, was inspired by an episode from
the tales of the Arabian Nights. The play concerns the fortunes
of a king's man-servant and his queen's maid—servant. It appears
that creditors are threatening to kill the man-servant, who is
driven to ingenious ruses to escape payment. The situation
reaches a crisis when the man-servant suggests to his wife that
she inform the queen of his own death. The ruse works and the
queen is sufficiently moved to make a handsome gift of money to
her servant. Fresh from this triumph, the man-servant goes to
the king to tell him of the death of his wife. The king is also
moved to offer a good sum of money. Later, when the royal couple
learn the truth, they both rush to the servants' home to
investigate. They find the couple alive and well. But the

shock is too much for the king. He literally dies of shock.

Vichya Maji Puri Kara ("Fulfil My Desire") by Vasant Sabnis, was

 

the big hit of the late 1960s, and it was still running in 1973.
The work opens with the King discussing the affairs of state with
his Minister and his Police Inspector. News comes that the
Chief-Minister is dead. The King is overcome with sadness and

he goes off to console himself in his harem. Meanwhile, the
Minister and a Guard discuss the replacement of the Chief-
Minister. The Guard notes that, according to custom and

425

seniority, his own friend, the Police Inspector, would be due
for the appointment. The Minister, however, has already decided
that his own brother-in-law will have the post. This choice is
made to placate his very demanding wife.

The Minister has his way, and his brother-in-law assumes the
vacant post. The new Chief-Minister, however, is a cow-herd who
blunders about in animal-like fashion, abusing his new-found
authority. He also develops an interest in the Police Inspector's
sweetheart, a Tamasha dancer (who livens up the performance with
several song-and-dance numbers). The Inspector and his girl plot
to get rid of the new Chief-Minister by involving him in court
theft. At first, he is encouraged to engage in petty theft, but
the situation soon reaches a climax when the Tamasha dancer
persuades the Chief-Minister to steal the King's own bed. This
ultimate act, and a proposed marriage ceremony between the dancer
and the Chief-Minister, finally serve to open the King's eyes to
the truth. The King now takes the initiative to restore order in
his Kingdom, and he banishes the Chief-Minister and offers the
Inspector the post rightfully due him. The Inspector is also
married on the spot to his dancing girl. The ypg ends happily and
the virtues of truth and justice are praised.

APPENDIX J

HISTORICAL NOTE ON MAHARASHTRA

426

APPENDIX J

HISTORICAL NOTE ON MAHARASHTRA

Since Tamasha is the indigenous folk theatre form of
Maharashtra State, a brief note about the region is called for.

The present political division of the State came into being
in 1958. It was born of regional agitation by the Marathi populace
for linguistic rights. The establishment of Maharashtra broke up an
unwieldy political union with what is today the State of Gujarat. The
old political union was called Bombay State, and it had unsuccessfully
tried to forge a bilingual sense of unity among the Marathi and Gujarati
speakers since its creation in 1954. Before this time--in fact, since
Independence--Bombay State had been a tri-lingual arrangement which
included the present State of Mysore. Rivalries among Marathis,
Gujaratis, and Mysoris, however, sparked the separatist troubles that
led to the later subdivisions.

Maharashtra today covers an area of 118,530 square miles in
ldestern India, including the Western Ghat mountains and the Deccan
yilateau. The population, according to the l97l census, is fifty
rnillion, or just under a tenth of the population of the entire country.

The principle language is Marathi, but there are large
ccnicentrations of Gujarati speakers in Bombay, Poona, and other major
cities. Migrations from the North (after the partition of India)
bYTNJght sizeable numbers of Hindi-speakers, and, more recently, there

has; been an influx of Mysoris and Madrasis to the Bombay and Sholapur

427

428

industrial regions, further complicating the traditional linguistic
and cultural patterns of the State of Maharashtra.

The modern Marathi language developed from old Indo-Aryan
through the middle Indic Prakrit, or old vernacular, called Maharashtri.
It also borrowed much from Sanskrit and, to a lesser extent, from
Arabic, Persian, English and other languages.1

Maharashtra is one of nineteen states making up the politi-
cal framework of India. Total population of the country is listed at
547 million, according to the l97l census.

Little is known of the history of the Marathas before the
Christian Era. They rose to prominence in the first century A.D. under
King Shalivahan, who is supposed to have fought and defeated King
Vikram, which appears unlikely since they were both separated in time
by some 135 years. Shalivahan's real or mythical personage may be a
matter of conjecture, but his dynasty is supposed to have ruled in
the Deccan region to the end of the third century, after which it was
defeated by the Maratha house of the Rashtrakutas. The famed Chalukyas
opposed the Rashtrakutas and established supremacy early in the sixth
century.

The Rashtrakutas returned to power about the middle of the
eighth century. King Govind III may be singled out as the most
prominent ruler of this dynasty. But in the continuing wars for

control, a second Chalukya dynasty was established two hundred years

 

1Indira Y. Junghare, "Marathi Tadbhava Phonology: A
Generative Approach," Bulletin of the Deccan College Research
Institute, Vol. 29 (l968-l969)} p. 37.

429

later, in 973. Chief among the Chalukyas in this period was
Vikramditya II. (Vikram and other kings of the medieval kingdoms
appear as chief pseudo-historical characters in many Tamasha yggg,
or folk dramas, with very little relevance to historically accurate
detail. Storylines of a number of these ygg§_appear in Appendix I
of this study.)

The last of the Chalukyas was Vira Soma (Someshvar IV),
whose possessions passed after 1190 to new dynasties, the Yadavas
of Davgiri, and the Hoysalas of Dorasamdura. Ramachandra, of the
Yadavas, was the last independent sovereign of the Deccan before he
submitted to the advancing Moghul invaders in 1309. With its seat of
power in Delhi, Moslem rule continued unbroken for 350 years.

It wasn't until the seventeenth century that the Marathas
regained their sense of sovereign destiny. In 1674, the great
Kshatrya (warrior caste) leader, Shivaji, led his armies to a complete
and stunning victory over the Moghuls and re-established an indigenous
Marathi-controlled territory in the Deccan.

From the social point of view, the bulk of the Marathas may
be classed as Shudras, or low-rung members of the Hindu caste structure.
'The Brahmins of Maharashtra, however-—especially the Chitpavan com-
rnunity of the coastal Konkan region--constitute an intellectual elite.

The Oxford History of India, from which most of this
historical account is taken, quotes from Mountstuart Elphinstone's

(nun History of India, published in 1841, to describe the Maratha

 

character:

 

430

Though the Marathas had never appeared in history as a
nation, they had as strongly marked a character as if they had
always formed a united commonwealth. Though more like to the
lower orders in Hindostan than to their southern neighbours in
Kanara and Telingana, they could never for a moment be con-
founded with either. They are small sturdy men, well made,
though not handsome. They are all active, laborious, hardy,
and persevering. If they have none of the pride and dignity of
the Rajputs, they have none of their indolence or want of wordly
wisdom. . . . A Maratha thinks of nothing ppt_the result, and
cares little of the means, if he can attain his object. For
this purpose he will strain his wits, renounce his pleasures,
and hazard his person; but he has not a conception of sacrificing
his life, or even his interest, for a point of honour. . . .

After Shivaji's death, the princely line declined rapidly
as a result of internal dissensions which broke the Maratha Kingdom
into a loose confederacy. The Kingdom was revived for a time with
the rise of rule by prime ministers, or Peshvas, who were mostly
Chitpavan Brahmins from the Konkan region. Under the rule of Peshva
Baji Rao II (who came to power in 1740), the Maratha power reached
its height, and it was during this period that Tamasha entertainments
were given their greatest boost, including court protection, which

resulted in a veritable golden age of lavani songs, chakkads, shahiri

 

povadas and performing troupes. But the Ppppyp_rule soon weakened it-
self in frustrated expansionist wars, and by 1818, the British literally
had to substitute their authority ”for no authority at all."3

Regional pride among Marathi speakers reappeared after India

achieved national independence in 1947. It was pride fed over the

 

2Vincent A. Smith, The Oxford History of India (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1967), 3rd ed., p. 410. For a historical sketch of
the early kingdoms, see pp. 213-219; also H. Arbuthnot Acworth's
Ballads of the Marathas (London: Longman's, Green and Co., 1894),
Introduction.

 

 

3Vincent A. Smith, 9p. 91., p. 572.

431

years by concern about economic inroads made by migrants from the North
and the South at the expense of the Maratha people. This pride manié
fested itself in right-wing political movements pledged to Marathi-
first programs and rights. Although these movements represented fringe

activities, they hastened the eventual creation of the State of

Maharashtra.

‘_ —’_‘.‘.

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