Onesumar please(REAR WINDOW)

‘’For grandma’s wedding sadaramam play was there.’’ I heard this from a relative on a holiday visit to our home. Thenceforth, my enquiry on the said play was in full swing. It finally concluded on the doorstep of another relative, Bhaskaran Nair alias Bhaskarachettan, a professor of Malayalam with the NSS College. A scholar and a voracious reader having a good home-library, he had an answer to any query on Malayalam literature. Naturally, he had the growth and development of drama too on his fingertip.

Plays like sadaramam hit the stages across Kerala during the early decades of the 20th century. Till then it was the era of ‘imported’ dramas. Inspired by the influx of musicians and dancers during Swathi Thirunal’s reign, many musical plays made inroads to Kerala. Drama troupes were then known as ‘sets’. Kalyanaramayyar set, Ramudu set, Shamiayyar set and Babbalankutteeswaran set were the leading ones in the trade. They played history -plays like Kovilan Charithram, Alli Arjuna, Nalla Thangaal Charithram, to name a few. To conform to this genre, even the story board was called the play’s ‘history’. Sadaramam was staged for the first time in the Travancore king’s palace. Owing to such a prestigious debut, it earned several stages in the state. Also, prominent writer of the period, K.C.Kesava Pilla ventured to write sadaraama following in its footsteps. Though I could not see these plays, I was satisfied with the enquiry I conducted. It was indicative of my taste for the art. No wonder, the plays witnessed during my school years still stay in memory. The first time I could come across a play with literary merit and artistic value was at the St. Ephrem’s High School in Mannanam. On stage was Kainikkara Padmanabha Pilla’s famous play Kalvariyile kalpapadam, enacted by the students and teachers of the school. The presentation of those amateurs could attract the appreciation of professional artists even. They went on to stage Tipu sultan as well, earning similarapplause. Later, while I was the students’ union chairman at the K.E. College, Mannanam, we decided to stage a professional drama during a campus function. We, the students were for staging Thopil Bhasi’s Ningalenne communistaakki due to our penchant for something pungent. For the same reason many elders objected to it. Finally, teachers, students and priests arrived at a consensus. Accordingly, Kalidasa Kalakendra’s kuttavum sikshayum was staged. Gifted actor O.Madhavan endeared everyone with his effortless acting style. Nevertheless, one of the prime factors for the play’s success happened to be the man in the comedian’s garb: Kaalaykkal Kumaran. Thereafter, watching plays has been my favourite pastime. I almost made it a ritual, attending the professional drama competition under the aegis of the state government. Another enthusiast with a similar verve at the venue was former minister T.M.Jacob.

I vividly remember my dad’s account of the state of affairs in his youth. The dramas in those times were not played in public halls or theatres. A large tract of land would be cleared and a temporary stage, erected. There won’t be any seats for the audience. Everyone had to sit or stand on the floor, rather the land. More often than not there would be some hustling and skirmishes. The owner of the drama troupe would be a baron or a thug or a combination of both. And the contractor or the chief organiser would by all means, his perfect match. Both would come to the venue accompanied by their own gangs of hefty fellows. With Bacchus serving in good stead, these gangs would enjoy a dual or two warranting external mediation in the form of cops or local Nobles. Such off-stage plays over, the on -stage one usually began with a musical combat. Up the curtains and the Bhagavathar (singer of sorts) would be sitting ready with his harmonium. Beside him would be another character on the mrudangam (percussion). Bhagavathar himself would be a spectacle to watch with stone rings on the ears, sparkling chains and a golden laced shawl round the neck, glittering rings on almost all the fingers and a broad mark of cow-dung ash and a vermilion fleck on the forehead. The silent pageant would transform itself into a sound spectacle via a keerthanam(classical composition) amidst the high decibel tussle between harmonium and mrudangam. As the hilarious musical tug of war ends, enter the characters singing the pakkala. To be frank, these songs need not have anything to do with the plot or storyline. Rajapart, as it was proudly termed, was the central role in the drama. Like superstars to films were rajapart actors to plays: crowd pullers. Sebastian Kunjukunju Bhagavathar, Vaikom Vasudevan Nair and artist V.J.Cherian were the stars among this special tribe. Women had not been into acting in public, yet. So, male actors did the female roles too, some surpassing even females in feminine attributes. Thus Ochira Velukkutty was the voluptuous beauty of the time. He stole many a young man’s heart lasciviously embellishing in plays like karuna, shakunthalam and nalla thangal charitham.

The dramas had no particular time schedule. Curtains would go up as and when the audience and the general ambience got set. Likewise, the duration or the valediction would also depend on extraneous actors. Suppose a particular scene or a dramatic situation thrilled the audience. Some local headman would immediately call out: onesumar, meaning once more. It might be an emotionally charged tragic scene wherein the heroine had committed suicide. However If onesumar is called, she would have to wake up from death and repeat the whole ordeal. As part of the local feuds and ensuing politics, there would be ego contests, wherein one baron’s single onesumar would be followed by another’s multiple ones. Every time the actors on stage had to fall in line to the call of the actors off-stage. Electric bulbs still to come, lighting was chiefly done by a lantern called (in the trade as) the No.14 lamp. Later, the petromax was introduced by the Paramashiva vilasam drama company. This new gadget had to be air-pumped to sustain its light. The man in charge of the same would step in promptly for his duty undeterred by the situations on stage. Sometimes even the one enacting the rajapart would have to don this role as wel even as the play was progressing.

C.J. Thomas, the reputed dramatist and critic observes that the so-called musical dramas have neither music nor drama in them. For, the music presented has no relationship whatsoever with the plot of the story. He illustrates the point in his book on the history of Malayalam plays (Malayala nataka charithram) using an amusing anecdote:

Scene— King’s court. The king is engrossed in a serious discussion with his council of ministers and other officials. A palace servant jumps in, breaking the gravity of the situation. Annoyed, the king asks, ‘’what brings you here, now?’’ Everyone’s attention is now on the servant. He begins to reply in the most polite manner. Here comes the (carnatic) raga delineation –pompously dressed Bhagavathar smiles sitting on the sidelines with his customary harmonium. He becomes the servant’s villain. The ensuing musical combat by the duo thrills the audience. After the combat comes to its natural conclusion, the servant delivers the shocking news rather the purpose of his sudden entry, to the king: ‘’kuzhanthaiye paampu katithu vittathu.’’ (The little prince is bitten by a snake).

I had the opportunity to meet famous dramatists, actors and directors as part of my official life and otherwise. It was my cousin Ramachandran who introduced the versatile Narendraprasad to me. He was an actor, dramatist, film star, literary critic, professor of English… All rolled into one. Ramachandran was doing his doctoral research in English literature in the Kerala University, at that time. I had just made my entry into the civil service. It was almost a routine to visit his residence, where my acquaintance with Narendraprasad grew up. Later when Ramachandran became the Controller of Examinations in the MG University, the trio would meet once in a while at Kottayam. It was then that Narendraprasad’s yet another acumen was revealed to me. He was a good astrologer as well. Everyone at home, particularly the children, loved his visits, prime attraction being his horoscope predictions. As a dramatist Narendraprasad’s seat is among the explorers of Kerala’s indigenous theatre. His famous play sauparnika as well as Natyagruha, the play house which he had brought up, prove the point.

I met Thopil Bhasi while I was the district collector of Kollam. He came to the collectorate to discuss with me a plan to establish a permanent set- up for training in theatrics. I had been an admirer of his since my student years. His autobiographical work, olivile ormmakal (memoirs of a fugitive) is interesting read, if one is interested in socio-political history in a non academic vein. What made him massively popular was the play he had written under the pseudonym—Soman—while still ‘under -ground’ in 1952: ningalenne communistaakki. (You people made me a communist). There onwards, how many plays, how many films have embraced Keralites with that unique touch of his! ‘’ A cover behind, a floor to stand on, you in front and a play in mind’’—though the quote belongs to another stalwart N.N.Pilla, it augurs well for Thopil Bhasi too. His creations like survey kallu, mutiyanaya puthran, mruchchakatikam, sharashayya, mooladhanam, kayyum thalyum purathitaruthu …all have become the grace of Malayalam drama tradition.

Being a native of the Kottayam galaxy, I should have a propensity, if not partiality, for anything ‘kottayan’ or ‘kottayamese’. Availing myself of that anticipatory bail, I place the National Theatres too in the list of prominent drama troupes. Whatever be the critic’s view, one of its plays had grabbed the breath of a whole generation across the state: Flory. Yes, the one on that hapless pregnant woman killed during the liberation struggle of ’59. It was a detonator of sorts in the then political milieu. The troupe had the services of many star artists like Kottayam Chellappan, Achan Kunju, Thilakan, Kottarakkara Sreedharan Nair, and Maala Aravindan.

It was the acquaintance with another veteran, T.N.Gopinathan Nair that encouraged me to think of the development of Malayalam theatre. When the state government celebrated ‘Harijana-Girijana year’, I was in charge of organising the event. We decided to conduct a state-wide competition for professional plays that help propagate communal harmony and awareness against untouchability. T.N. and T.K.C. Vatuthala agreed to be the jury. I had to closely interact with them, thereby getting new insights into the intricacies of Kerala’s theatre tradition.

The little town of Ettumanur was all set for N.N.Pilla’s play to be staged. Normally he was a man of punctuality. However, this time an unexpected delay crept in. Initial uneasiness of the audience drifted towards hoots and howls. Apologies and consolations on the part of the organisers failing and the crowd about to turn unruly, N.N.Pilla took to the mike. Recognizing his famous voice, someone in the audience shouted: ‘’ we’ve come here after paying money ‘’ (indicating the ticket charge). Pat came N.N.Pilla’s raw reply: ’’O! Your two rupees. Come over and collect it now itself.’’ The audience was spell-struck for a moment. Then they burst into a tremendous applause. It was the sign of recognition, a master dramatist commanded. A scene from Greek history beckoned me then. Caesar’s soldiers were furious when their salary was unduly delayed. As the tumult escalated with the soldiers coming out of barracks, Caesar appeared in front of them. He uttered: Dhoorbaa! Just that word and the soldiers dispersed, abashedly.( Dhoorba in Greek means crowd.)

For theatre, audience is one thing and dhoorba, quite another.