The hidden realm
| Based on Vaidehi’s short story, the play Alegalalli Antaranga, questions established truths |
True to THE original Seetha Kote was quite fluid and delivered Vaidehi’s lines with an impact
To begin with, it’s a note of reservation, a personal one though. There’s something about single-actor shows: it exasperates. In the true spirit of theatre, you long to see more people on stage. You wish the play would grow with mutual di alogue and draw you into it, taking you as its fellow passenger. You also partly get anxious for the actor who carries the entire burden on just his shoulders, and after a point it sounds like a long, personal rant. But with a profusion of such productions, it seems a convenient option for theatre, what with hectic schedules of people that fuses days, weeks and months.
Alegalalli Antaranga, a Manasa theatre production, presented by Seetha Kote, was one such. Based on Kannada writer Vaidehi’s short story “Shakuntaleyondige Kaleda Aparahna” (previously presented by Chidambara Rao Jambe as “Loka Shakuntala”), it is a remarkable twist to the story of Shakuntala as the world knows it: a story of love and forgetfulness. In this first person account (as well as the play, kowtow to the original), Shakuntala, in great poise, bares her experiential realm as she went through it, even as the writer’s invisible presence gently rebukes the patriarchal framework that has such a dominating presence even in the world of imagination. In challenging truth, Vaidehi actually takes on the legendary poet Kalidasa himself: “The poet…ah! He’s such a master in numbing the world with his lyrical untruths. Does the world trust Shakuntala as much as it trusts Kalidasa? You can weave entire explanations around Dushayanta’s actions. But what about Shakuntala’s emotions? ...To say that my mind cannot be fathomed by the explanations of the material world is a safe thing for me.”
Seetha Kote is quite fluid and delivers Vaidehi’s powerful lines with an impact. Just as it is in the short story, the theatrical version manages the same dignity, without slipping into melodrama.
The writer constantly juxtaposes the deep, layered inner realm with the linear narrative of the outer world’s happenings. This, she says to achieve a finer reality about Shakuntala; the fact that she wasn’t what the world perceived her to be.
“Shakuntala was naïve, for whom? For those who looked at her, not for her own self.” The actor, with her subtly worked out intonations, brought out these differences well. Though the story takes bold positions about femininity, one wonders why motherhood gets so celebrated. Of course, the plays remains so true to the original, that it leaves little room for interrogation.
Karthik Hebbar’s singing was competent, but was overdone. Music which should essentially provide the backdrop, overtook the performance at several points in the play. It in fact, proved to be a major distraction. The play was directed and choreographed by Krishnamurthy Kavathar.
It’s another matter that such productions have their value: they provide a space for suppressed voices in questioning facts for their “absoluteness”. How beautifully Margret Atwood does it in her “Gertrude” and H.S. Venkatesh Murthy in his “Uriya Uyyale”.
