A dancer's portrayal of Gandhari

The musical notes of a guitar, just before the play’s performance, trigger curiosity. Set to witness the epic Mahabharata through the perspective of one of its character’s – Gandhari, a viewer is bound to be pleasantly surprised by the presence of a guitarist (Hitesh Dhutia), on stage.

The melody is followed by the tinkling of ghungroos and in walks a female character. Dressed in black, she comes forward, kneels and blindfolds herself with a red cloth, bringing alive “the queen with the blindfold” and the play.

‘Rage and Beyond: Irawati’s Gandhari’ opens the 10th edition of META (Mahindra Excellence in Theatre Awards).

Inspired by sociologist and anthropologist Irawati Karve’s penning of Gandhari in the text Yugant, the performance can be termed more as a dance-drama. The Kathak dancer Sanjukta Wagh (also the director and the female protagonist in the play),
infuses strong footwork and pirouettes in her performance, even before she begins her monologue.

The beginning of the performance shows Gandhari walking towards the pyre. Her thoughts then go back to the time when she was a young princess and had first set her eyes on Hastinapur. Soon the realisation of being “betrayed” strikes her. She gets to know that the man she is to marry is blind and thus decides to blindfold herself. Her act represents infliction of rage inward rather than outward. The performance proceeds from here and goes on to reflect the psychological state, reaction and introspection of Gandhari at various points in her life.  

It takes courage to solely present all this, and the artiste chooses to enact scenes which are crucial in the epic – Draupadi’s disgrace in public, the epic battle of Mahabharata and the death of Gandhari’s 100 sons. There is also a reference to Gandhari’s argument with Krishna and her cursing the Yadav clan, but it is not delved into too much. This helps the director save time and yet portray what is central to the theme of this character.

While Gandhari’s joyful past is supported with cheerful notes, her struggles are encompassed with pitiful strains. Hitesh Dhutia’s live music is probably the best part of this visual performance.

Somewhere in between the play, it appears as if the character’s movements are guided by Dhutia’s guitar making them predictable.

The interplay of shadow of Gandhari – which splits into two or even three – lends depth to the narrative. This technique adopted by light designer Amogh Phadake, helps the audience connect with the action on stage. Especially women are able to relate to the struggle of this mythological character.

The dancer-theatre actor’s rendition of shringara rasa, in the scene where Gandhari bedecks herself, is beautiful. Throughout the act, her aesthetic hand movements speak of her background in dance but her enactment proves that she is more impressed by Irawati Karve and her thought than the character of Gandhari.

This portrayal comes full circle when Gandhari leads her blind husband to the pyre and accepts herself as sati. The idea to sit with a book in hand (dressed like Karve) as preface of Karve’s text projects at the back, is impressive. Wish this technique of storytelling was incorporated in the beginning as well!