Suvarna-Padma, the Golden Lotus

By SARWAR YOUSOF and GHULAM

SuvaRna-Padma, the Golden Lotus is one the most important works of well-known Malaysian writer and scholar, Ghulam-Sarwar Yousof, whose two previous plays, Halfway Road, Penang and The Trial of Hang Tuah the Great, have become internationally recognized for their originality of style, as well as significance of issues raised.
This play, written in similarly original style, this time approaching the subject matter through the slant of symbolism and myth, deals with the existential dilemma of a writer, Vacha, in a repressive society where censorship is a major problem inhibiting creativity, seriously affecting him psychologically, as well as in terms of his private and public life. In terms of the pertinent issues it deals with, its meaning as well as its stylistic approach, this play transcends cultural boundaries to attain universality.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Singapore
• Release date: Jul 22, 2015
• ISBN: 9781482832464

SARWAR YOUSOF

GHULAM-SARWAR YOUSOF, the author of the play Suvarna-Padma, The Golden Lotus is a well-known Malaysian academician and scholar, a prolific poet as well as short story writer. Through his research and publications he has also established himself as a leading expert on traditional Southeast Asian theatre.

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Copyright © 2015 by Ghulam-Sarwar Yousof.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4828-3245-7

                eBook           978-1-4828-3246-4

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CONTENTS

Characters

Prologue

Scene One

Scene Two

Scene Three

Scene Four

Scene Five

Scene Six

Epilogue

We poets in our youth begin in gladness

But thereof come in the end despondency and madness

- William Wordsworth

CHARACTERS

Vacha, 36 – Poet, Dramatist, University Professor

Mona, 30 – His wife

Uzza, about 40 – State Representative

Kabir, about 40 – Poet

Rishi, about 55 – School-teacher

Pawang, about 45 – Physician and Psychiatrist

Priest, about 40

Chairman of National Literacy Agency

Chairman of National Awards Committee (non-speaking)

Daya, about 20 – Nurse

Man, about 50

Woman, about 45

Young Man, about 36 (non-speaking)

Female students (2) – about 20-22

The events play out over several years. All events take place in the State of Jayapuri Negara in the country of Suvarnabhumi.

SET:

A series of stairs and levels will represent different locals. A few scenes require the use of two or more locales almost simultaneously. There is very limited use of stage or hand properties.

PROLOGUE

A bare stage, made up of several levels and a flight of stairs. The sky is orangey-red, with a few grey clouds floating across. On a platform upstage left, moving across the stage, a funeral procession approaches, the figures appearing as dark silhouettes. The procession, which is led by a priest, descends the stairs and is now at center stage. Behind the priest are the State Representative, Uzza, the poet’s friend, Kabir, the poet’s wife, Mona, and the family doctor, Pawang. Four pall-bearers carry the coffin on their shoulders. It is draped in white, with several flower-garlands placed across it. All the people, except the pall-bearers, are dressed in black.

The coffin is lowered and placed front-stage center. The priest approaches it, and while the others stand with their heads bowed, mumbles a few prayers which are not really audible to the audience. He also does other small rituals which do not belong to any known religion.

The stage darkens. Everyone stands frozen, heads bowed, as if rooted to the ground. Only the sobbing of Mona is heard in the death-like silence.

He places his arm around her… as the stage darkens.

SCENE ONE

Bare stage as before. It is evening. The sky is brilliant blue, but gradually darkens during the scene. A public park, with a bandstand. A poetry reading session is taking place, with Vacha reciting a poem entitled Peace.

I hear peace in the air, laughing

in every green leaf; singing

in every stream when the eyes

are shuttered and the mind turns inward;

It has always been there for certain

in the innocent garden of eternity.

Peace is everywhere, yet remains elusive,

in distressing images the media carry,

agonized faces from every nook and corner,

scrawny hands, twisted by violence

like twigs of ancient trees

grasping for each grain of mercy.

Peace is smeared with screaming

blood of millions snared in agonies

of destruction, remains untouched

by the hands of innocence or purity,

untasted in the murky water we

drink, nor in the air we breathe,

both once pure and holy.

Peace is scarcely felt; the numbing

of senses destroys veracity, promotes

splendid illusions for the enrichment

of a few at the expense of the many.

Real peace is not even where

it ought to be: in the mind’s tranquil

recesses, in the heart’s verdant valleys.

In a pious moment of wishful silence

I seek the return of peace, furtively

to a world obscured by delusion,

pray for the noble essence of harmony

to spread its wings, dispense its blessings

like a mantle of healing; let all the living

senses relish the calm and beauty

that peace alone can bring

as tangible legacy to all of humanity.

Upon its completion there is clapping all round. Rishi and Uzza congratulate Vacha, followed by several others who show their enthusiasm by shaking hands, hugging the poet and so on. Some people begin to drift away, as the lights dim. Those remaining, including