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A quest for space
The National Women's Theatre Festival held recently in Kolkata saw plays that dealt with the issue of women’s
search for identity. Ranjita Biswas reports
“Conjugal life is like the Kashmir problem, there's no solution. You have to observe curfew most of the time.'' (Shanu
Roychowdhury, a play in Bengali.)
“Even to quarrel (with husband) it needs a certain amount of communication, a contact other than the one that is
ordered in the dark.'' (Jaara Brishtite Bhijechchilo - Those who got wet in the rain: a play in Bengali)
The protagonists in the above two plays are middle-aged women obviously trapped in frustratingly unfulfilling
marriages. They are ‘ordinary' homemakers, reared by convention, expected to perform the duties of good mothers
and wives. Yet within that ambit, they try to find a new meaning in life.
This search for an identity ran thematically in a recent festival in Kolkata, entitled National Women's Theatre
Festival. Organised by the well-known city-based group Nandikar, the eight plays ran to full houses every day. What
the festival achieved was to bring together women protagonists to the fore.
Some of the most poignant moments, with which women at large could relate to, emanated from solo performances.
Both the aforementioned plays were in this genre. Nandikar's own production Shanu Roychowdhury has Swatilekha
Sengupta (directed by Rudraprasad Sengupta), in a Willy Russell drama adaptation, making best use of the dialogues
sizzling with satire on a marriage that seems like a cage. Even the set design replicates a room with impenetrable
walls. Her impulsive decision to take a trip to Kathmandu with a ‘feminist' friend makes her re-discover the girl who
once loved adventure and laughed a lot, but who somehow got lost in her new role as Mrs Shanu Mazumdar.
In Gandhar's Jaara Brishtite Bhijechchilo (directed by Goutam Haldar) Bijaylakshmi Barman's protagonist is a woman
from a middle-class background. She is the girl next door, who dare not dream. Fatherless, exploited in her uncle's
house, she is pushed into marriage. Marital life means catering to a big family and giving in to sexual demands of a
husband who cheats on her. Her only space is the bathroom where she cries alone. Yet even this very ordinary wife
musters courage enough to walk out. She steps out into an unknown world and feels alive again.
Mumbai's Sarita Joshi in Ekjut Theatre Group's Sakubai (directed by Nadira Zaheer Babbar) gets full credit for her
sheer acting versatility. Through her ‘mundane' job as a maid, Sakubai tells a story of courage, fighting the battle of
life with equanimity. Despite her difficulties, Sakubai triumphs in the end as her daughter graduates as a topper.
For a taste of how religious fundamentalism throttles a woman's voice, Seagull's Jatra from Assam was particularly
relevant. Directed by Baharul Islam in a story set against the rural Muslim community of Assam, his wife Bhagirathi
as protagonist Rabeya represents the exploitation of women in the name of religious strictures. For a so-called
offence, Rabeya's husband pronounces the three talaqs and marries a girl half his age. But when the young woman
discards him, he wants his old wife back. Bogged down by poverty and loneliness Rabeya has second thoughts.
Ironically, in order to re-marry, the maulvi says quoting the Shariat, she must first get married to him, and later
divorced and passed on to the ex-husband. When Rabeya expresses shock at the atrocious suggestion, he says, “Oh,
it's only for a single night, you know,'' while the husband nods approval. It is then that Rabeya protests, spitting on
the maulavi and slapping her husband. It's a slap on archaic ideas that hold strong in an unjust society.
A woman standing against the oppressive power nexus is poignantly put across by Draupadi based on Mahasweta
Devi's story. Directed by H Kanhailal, his wife Sabitri Heisnam plays the protagonist hunted by the powers-that-be
as an insurgent. An extremely powerful actress, Sabitri's every movement creates landscape easy to visualise despite
the play being in Manipuri. Nandikar felicitated the versatile actress, an honour richly deserved for her dedication to
theatre.
If doubts still persist on why women's theatre as a separate entity, then ask why Nandikar dedicated the festival to
yesteryear star Binodini Dasi of Bengal, more well-known as Nati Binodini (1863-1941)? Binodini was, following the
tradition of those days with ‘theatre girls', from the red light area. Her great love was the stage and her talent ensured
a great following. She saved, even borrowed, to give shape to a lifetime ambition - a hall that be named after herself.
That dream never materialised though the hall came up. The genteel society could enjoy her virtuosity on stage, but a
hall in her name? Never. In her autobiography Amar Katha (My Story), Binodini made no bones about how she was
betrayed even by those closest to her.