The Fire the Yearly Rite the Agreement: Plays of Resistance Resolution Shanthi

By Dr. Vayala Vasudevan Pillai

The three plays here are replete with emotions. They engage the reader and audience deeply into the passionate conflicts of life.
The reader can easily experience the heat and dust the characters create,and finally see the tranquil lucidity of thought arrived at the end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: Feb 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9781482869781

Dr. Vayala Vasudevan Pillai

Dr. Vayala Vasudevan Pillai was born in South Kerala, India on 22nd April 1945. Dr. Pillai worked as lecturer of Engliish, Director of the School of Drama and as Director of the Centre for performing and Visual Arts under different universities in his home state. He has written, directed and staged plays on national and international forums. Dr. Pillai traveled extensively to learn, teach and research on theatre. Won recognition and awards by Akademies and other such cultural bodies. He has extensively researched on J.M. Synge and the Irish theatre and published a major work on the great Irish playwright. Married Valsala Eladath, now Chairperson of Dr. Valaya Trust, formed to perpetuate his memory and works. Dr. Pillai died August 29, 2011 while still active as theatre teacher and dramatist.

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Copyright © 2016 by Dr. Vayala Vasudevan Pillai.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4828-6977-4

                eBook           978-1-4828-6978-1

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CONTENTS

Foreword

A Tribute To The Author

Translator's Note

Play 1 The Fire

Introduction

Characters

A Guide To Enact The Play

Play 2 The Yearly Rite

Introduction

Characters

Scene 1

Scene 2

Scene 3

Scene 4

Scene 5

Play 3 The Agreement

Introduction

Characters

Scene 1

Scene 2

Scene 3

Scene 4

Scene 5

FOREWORD

Dr. Vayala Vasudevan Pillai had made remarkable contribution towards the modern theatre of Kerala. He authored many notable dramatic works, researched on Irish theatre and published a book on J.M. Synge, directed innumerable plays and taught theatre in India and abroad.

English translation of Dr. Vayala's three plays, the well known Agni (The Fire) wrote earlier and staged on various platforms at different occasions; Andubali (The Yearly Rite) and Udambadi (The Agreement), his last two works currently gathering much acclaim in theatre circles.

The threads weaving the themes of the plays individually and collectively are the existential crises of material and ethical dimensions we all confront. There is inevitable resistance, the subsequent resolution and final Shanthi seamlessly created in the scripts.

The translators of the plays, the father --daughter-deo, N. Madhavan Pillai and Anita Madhavan are writers gifted enough to make creative vernacular inputs into their works. They have more than succeeded to do justice to the original works in their venture, here.

The three plays translated have exuberant social and political bearings. The underlying current of the dramatis troyika has been the human angst. Shanthi, the calming moment or the sobering effect is not offered on a platter ready to consume in the works, but aesthetically camouflaged to decipher by the discretionary critique in the enlightened viewer.

Hoping the translated versions will be received with same enthusiasm as the originals by the discerning readers.

Mrs. Valsala V. Pillai

Chair Person

Dr. Vayala Vasudevan Pillai Trust

Kerala, India

A TRIBUTE TO THE AUTHOR

Dr. Vayala Vasudevan Pillai drifted away into our memories on 29th of August 2011, leaving behind a rich legacy as playwright, director, organizer, teacher and researcher. Though he had been ill for some time, his death was a rude shock. That was the magic of his personality.

Even though he walked amidst the masters of world theatre as an equal, his simplicity and modesty had made him accessible to all. The affection he showered on every one he met more than demonstrated his magnanimous and kind nature.

An eminent scholar and Gandhian he used to give lectures on theatre, Gandhian thought and other socially relevant matters. A true Gandhian, he was a man of simple living and generous thinking. Some of his plays highlight this aspect of his nature vividly.

Theatre to him was life and his passion, until his death. His relationship with theatre had begun when he was very young. As a boy of seven years, he used to walk miles to watch dramas enacted in and around his village. He retained the same zeal and vigor in his theatre activities throughout his life. Watching him, one would often wonder if theatre had merged into him or the man, into the theatre.

He entered the creative arena of alternative drama, groomed by the veteran theatre genius G. Sankara Pillai. Like Tagore and many others like him, Dr. Vayala he traveled extensively in the west, to learn and to teach. As in Tagore, again broad vistas of human experience are portrayed in his plays. In the stage presentation of his plays, the theatrical diction acquired from the west is amalgamated with the Indian classical theatre tones based on ritual concepts and traditional practices.

He began his foreign voyages with his visit to the University of Rome, to study modern theatre. Further three decades since 1980, saw him touring more than twenty countries studying, researching and getting trained, in famous universities and ancient stages along with the titans of the world theatre. He had, during this period the opportunity to attend the theatre workshops conducted by the famous polish theatre genius, Grotowski, Nobel Laureatre Dario Fo, and Richard Schechner. Wherever he went, his primary interest was studying the theatre, watching plays and interviewing dramatists and theatre scholars. He was prompt and very keen to impart whatever knowledge he thus acquired to his students.

Dr. Vayala Vasudevan Pillai infused vitality into theatre. His plays depicted the tragedy of modern man, his identity crises and existential angst, struggles, anxieties, helplessness, alienation, and social inequality.

Dr. Pillai directed more than forty plays including his own works. Edward Bond's The Bundle, Girish Karnad's Nagamandala. J.M. Synge's The Well of the Saints and Samuel Becket's Krapp's Last tap are some of the plays he translated and produced with impeccable impact. He always worked for a new spatial concept in modern theatre. Every directorial venture by him was motivated by this quest. He made use of expressionism and symbolism in his drama in order to create the right effect.

Dr. Vayala Vasudevan Pillai has ventured in the arena of childrens' plays and theatre with stupendous artistry, too. He believed firmly that the children are the architects of future. He conveyed his themes to the children in their frequency and modulation. Thus his plays for children turned into a slice of their unique world, where their little sorrows and happiness alone mattered.

His tryst with theatre won him many laurels and accolades, including the much coveted Sangeet Natak Akademi Award (2009).

Dr. Pillai embraced Gandhism with equal passion that he had nurtured for theatre.

His wife, Valsala Eladath, had been a constant inspiration for Dr. Pillai's writing, theatre and travel through out his post marital life. Dr. Pillai's creativity reached its peak during his life with her, which he felt obliged to acknowledge profoundly in his dramas.

Dr. Pillai did not have retired life, as he was exuberantly active as director, teacher and writer of drama till his last breath. His work remains vibrant in the minds and stages of theater lovers all over India.

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE

The true credit for discovering the translator in me goes to Dr. Vayala. He identified the translator in me instantly.

My tryst with drama was just limited to two occasions, when I was taken to witness ballets in near by temples by elders, and afterwards when taught about theatre by eminent teachers in college.

Later, I found out that translation was not an easy task, as I had thought early. Here too, Dr. Vayala imparted confidence into me by his positive encouragement.

When I entered the playwright's realm of Agni, (The Fire) I could feel the heat and warmth of the characters, especially that of Unni. We did not discuss much on translations, but I felt him as the perfect person to be a guru in offering guidance. As he talked about his vision of the world, and the futility of material pursuits, I saw in him a world teacher. He changed my perspective on life. He aroused a deep sense of optimism in me.

Nor could one ever find him scolding any of his students. When I attended the rehearsal camps of Aandu Bali, (The Yearly Rite) I adored his art of teaching. With a nod of his head or an uplift of a finger, he could call the shots to perfection.

Dr. Vayala, in the process inspired my entire family to involve in the work of the translation of his plays. My husband supported me with his suggestions, my father with editing and my mom taking care of the house hold, leaving me free.

It is hoped that I have been able to do justice to the original works of the great dramatist, who would have been happy to see the endeavor and bless me, if he were alive.

Anita Madhavan.

1

Wait without thought

For you are not ready for thought

T.S. Eliot

THE FIRE

INTRODUCTION

The Fire,(Agni, in vernacular Malayalam) is a play based on the different levels and nuances of fire in human consciousness. The first level of meaning ion the play is attached to that of the funeral pyre of mother. It is the mother's death, which is intuitively felt known by Unni, the youngest son, now a ferryman on the Ganges. He rushed back home to pay homage to the Mother. The next level of meaning is related to anger, which never gets quenched, especially in the two elder brothers of Unni, who are greedy and avaricious for the family property. It was the angry fire in their eyes and hearts, which drove away Unni from home long back. On his return, their anger is rekindled and they become thirsty for his blood.

Fire is also used in the play as an image of purifier distilling the best out of everything. The mother's funeral fire cannot be extinguished unless and until her children resume living in perfect harmony and peace. The Uncle and Devi in the play are the softer aspects of Agni that spread love and light in human relationships. The play integrates multiple dimensions and use of space such as the Mother's funeral space, the elder brothers' meeting place, the mango grove or the garden for the children's games and the bank of the Ganges. The play was written and produced in 1982. It won the Kerala Sahithya Akademi Award in 1982 and was performed at different state and National Theatre festivals.

Fire is an innovative play where the use of modern theatre techniques, Expressionism and Symbolism, are experimented successfully, to showcase intricate human emotions that are split into finest elements, thus bringing out the realities behind one's real self. Thouriatrikam, a combination of dance and music accompanied by instruments, effectively fused into the play helps to maintain a perpetual rhythmic flow within. Epics, folks and myths infused into the play retain a harmony all along. The story of Prometheus included as a play within the play is presented on the stage in the regional folk form, 'Kakkarassi', where hero normally a nomad, appears as fortune teller.

CHARACTERS

Uncle

Unni

Brothers -- 2

Watchmen -- 3

Friends -- 3

Devi

(The actors enter the stage rhythmically from both sides. After epitomizing the various aspects of flaming fire, with their actions, they form a semi -- circle and keep on praying to the funeral pyre seen far behind. The chant of mantras is heard.)

Om Poornamithah Poornamathah.

Poornath Poornamudachyate

Poornasya Poornamadayah

Poornameva Va Shishyate

(After the chanting, the character, Devi walks slowly, climbs up to a platform and walks towards the fire. Uncle (the watchman) also climbs up and cries like a magician 'Ho' to wake up others. The two elder brothers exit to either sides and the younger one Unni goes out. From amidst the remaining three who are Unni's friends, the watchman comes forward and bows to the audience.)

Friend 1   :   Workers, we are . . . . !

Uncle   :   Guardians, we are . . . . !

Friend 2   :   Are we jesters?

Friend 3   :   Are we pillars?

(The friends walk like puppets to the three corners of the stage and stand still showing the actions, 'See no evil' 'Hear no evil' 'speak no evil.')

Uncle   :   (Looking at the three figures) you must take care of the house. (to the audience) I am the great watchman, the guardian of the Fire.

(He looks intently at the pyre. Unni is back home knowing of his mother's demise. He enters the stage and looks all around. The watchman sees him.)

Uncle   :   Unni!

Unni   :   Uncle . . . . my Uncle!

(Unni goes to his uncle, falls on his chest and sobs bitterly. Uncle pats affectionately on his back and tries to console him 'Unni, Unni'. Friend 1 opens his eyes and chants fondly.)

Friend 1   :   Unni has come ... Our Unni has come.

Friend 2   :   (The one who closed his ears) Now the ears can be opened.

Friend 3   :   (The one who shut his mouth) The mouth can be opened now.

Friend 1   :   (The one who closed his eyes) Let us open the eyes now.

(Friends 1,2,3 remain in their places and sing)

Here comes Unni,

The son of this soil.

He is our brother,

He is our classmate,

He is our playmate.

The torch he lit we bear.

Here comes Unni,

Here comes our Unni.

(They stand there, lovingly looking at Unni)

Uncle   :   Ah! My child! You are here at last!

Unni   :   When did she die?

Uncle   :   The pyre is still burning . . . . .

Unni   :   I want to cry be the pyre for a moment and then go back . . .

Uncle   :   Where to . . . .?

Unni   :   To the Ganges. . . .

Uncle   :   To immerse yourself?

Unni   :   No, to ride the waves, rowing the boat . . . . . to ferry the pilgrims across the river . . . . .

Uncle   :   The boatman has to come back. I too had done the same, as long as I could.

Unni   :   Yes . . . . Till my last, until my arms are tired.

Uncle   :   We won't let you go for all that again. Aren't you cured of your old ailments?

Unni   :   Ailments . . . . ? I wasn't suffering from any

Uncle   :   Then what . . . .? Laughing and playing like a fool . . . .? Never bothered about your own interests ...... Not realizing you were grown up.

Unni   :   My elder brothers cooked up the story of my illness.

Uncle   :   You don't have to be scared now. They have probably forgotten the old rivalries. (Fondly) They had then tried to kill you, my child. (Thoughtfully) Ah! Yes. How could they stand you when you quarreled with them to turn your inheritance into public property?

Unni   :   Where's that pyre? I want to sit beside it the whole night. There .... I want to recall a thousand stories that my mother once told me. I want to return in the morning itself.

Uncle   :   There's someone contemplating by the undying pyre even after all these days.

Unni   :   Who .....? My brothers?

Uncle   :   Good joke .....! Your brothers left the place as soon as the pyre was lit. They are in their rooms, frolicking with their wives.

Unni   :   Then .... Who's there to grieve near the pyre?

Uncle   :   Don't you remember......? Your yesteryears..... you ..... and a little girl in her skirts perched on my shoulders....!

Unni   :   (recalling) Oh....! Devi,

Uncle   :   Her parents are no more. All these days she was eagerly waiting...... hoping you would be back one day. (Silence, Devi comes walking gently from the fireside within minutes. Looks at uncle, then at Unni. Unni recognize her. They gaze at each other nostalgically, recollecting the past. They advance towards each other, stretching their arms.)

Uncle   :   Oh..... my God .....!

Unni   :   (Stands looking at Devi. Sees her tears. Entranced in her ethereal elegance) On a full moon night, the waters of the Ganges flows crystal clear........just like your tears.......

Devi   :   And .........on an Amavasi.¹

Unni   :   The Ganges gushes down from the Himalayan ranges. .....with a mystery you and I cannot comprehend...... in torrents .....black and dark.

Devi   :   Do you go ferrying on such days also....?

Unni   :   Of course! Many will be waiting daily to cross the river.

Devi   :   Take me also with you once....

Uncle   :   The embers are still glowing ....

Devi   :   The lotus doesn't stay on the waves?

Unni   :   No, it drifts along. The roots remain tangled somewhere deep beneath.... and.... new flower buds sprout again.....

Uncle   :   Yet, after...... all these years, those flower buds. Survived in an unquenchable flame........

Unni   :   Shall bloom into a thousand crimson flowers.

Uncle   :   (Satisfied) Well now -- I can bid farewell to this stage. You came... you saw... while the fire is still burning...

Unni   :   True.... Let me see, before the embers die down. (Walks towards the pyre)

Uncle   :   It is to the south of the sacred Tulsi² .... (Unni with Devi disappears in the direction of the altar, where the Holy Basil is grown. The figures (friends) start moving from the three corners. They stand closing their mouth, eyes