A new play, Shikhandi, uses contemporary paradigms of gender to question time-honoured norms of patriarchy, masculinity and misogyny; and is being lauded for its courage in face of extra-constitutional censorship at a time when outrage is easy and mob justice, swift.
Based on the life and times of one of the earliest documented trans persons, Shikhandi, the Mahabharata character is assigned and reassigned various genders as the epic trundles along. “I’ve been toying with this idea since I first read Devdutt Pattanaik’s The Pregnant King in 2010,” says writer-director Faezeh Jalali (right). “While studying in Beloit College, Wisconsin (USA), I developed a monologue based on Shikhandi and tried to look at the paradoxes and ambiguities of gender and thus, life.”
Jalali fleshed out the play till 2013-14 so that it speaks to both — those familiar with the mythology, and those looking only at the socio-anthropology of gender. “Since the final play was 90-minute long with no interval and a monologue, it would’ve been too boring, I made the play multi-charactered,” points out the actress, director and casting director, known for Slumdog Millionaire (2008), Shaitan (2011) and the play Jaal (2012).
While Shikhandi’s dynamism, irreverence and subversion mix keep the edge-of-the-seat intrigue going, the razor-sharp humour does not let up even once. Jalali says that was a conscious decision. “We’re able to bring subjects/topics otherwise considered taboo out in the open with humour,” she says. “I didn’t want to get preachy and have ensured the message piggy-backs on laughter.”
Different techniques from folk theatre forms such as Yakshagana, the Kerala martial art Kalaripayattu, and even modern dance forms such as aerial silk help draw lines between the mythologised narratives of gender and contemporary understanding of fluidity of identity.
“We did intense workshops in Kalaripayattu in Kerala and Yakshagana in Udupi and have been rehearsing since 2014,” says Jalali, who has kept the set minimal. Kolam patterns adorn the floor and become the props on a stage open to audiences on all sides. “That is itself a metaphor for the openness of gender... its maleness, femaleness and everything in between.”
Does she not fear backlash? Jalali wondered if this question would arise at all if she wasn’t a woman and Muslim. “Ancient texts such as Mahabharata and Ramayana are not static and frozen in time,” she explains. “They lend themselves to immense dynamism. Every retelling/interpretation is equally legitimate as it questions, probes and contemporarises.” Perhaps a reason why we need to know Shikhandi.
(The play will be performed in National Centre for the Performing Arts, Mumbai at the end of April.)
Shikhandi? Who
Amba, the daughter of the King of Kashi, was in love with Salva, the king of the neighbouring Saubala. Amba and her sisters were abducted from the swayamwar by the celibate Kaurava patriarch Bhishma for his step-brother Vichitravirya.
In Hastinapur, Amba beseeched Bhishma and was allowed to go back with honour to Salva. Only, Salva rejected her, saying she had been won by another man. Vichitravirya also didn’t want her, since she was in love with another. Bhishma couldn’t marry her because he had taken a vow of celibacy.
Burning with grief and rage at Bhishma, who she felt was responsible for the mess, Amba undertook rigorous penance to appease Lord Shiva and secured a boon to be responsible for Bhishma’s death in her next birth. She ends her life by walking into a pyre and was reborn as Shikhandi, the transgender warrior. At Kurukshetra, Arjun hides behind Shikhandi (whom Bhishma refuses to attack since he was a woman in his past birth) and fires a salvo of arrows which kill Bhishma on the ninth day of the battle.
