Land of Lime

Part 2

There is something qualitatively different and even magical in the dramatic reinterpretation of epic episodes in South Asian performative traditions, be it music dance, dance-drama, theatre, folk performers or even film in recent times. I am more familiar with (and will focus on here) the south Indian performative traditions, especially theatre (professional, amateur and village groups), Yakshagana and mythological films, the staple diet of my childhood. Contrast these interpretations to reading epics in their entirety. Here I refer to not merely the critical editions of Ramayana, Mahabharata and puranas, but also to television mega serials and even literary works of Tulsi, Kamban, Pampa and Kuvempu – texts, which operate with epic imagination on an epic scale. However, note how all the different performative genres choose particularly dramatic episodes and in the process offer insights and perspectives on characters and narratives that the epics do not suggest. What comes into focus during such moments, often dramatically, are human frailties, from which no human being, even those of divine origin (like Krishna or Rama) or those who are always on the side of the dharma too (like Arjuna and Dharmaraya) too wouldn’t escape.

Consider, Arjuna in the film ‘Babhruvahana’. In the first half of the film, he is presented as someone who embodies humility, dignity, confidence and valor. However, in the second half, which takes place after the kurukshetra war and by which time Arjuna has established his stature as a great warrior, Arjuna is an arrogant and egotistical person, who doesn’t need Krishna’s support and guidance. As he takes on the responsibility of leading the Pandava army that accompanies the Asvamedha horse, Arjuna, in fact, explicitly states he is capable of subduing all the warriors and kings by himself. In part 3 of this review, I will write more on the wonderful exchanges between Arjuna and Babhruvahana on Arjuna’s character and accomplishments. True, it is Krishna who has caused Arjuna to forget his relationship with Chitrangada and Uluci but the film makes it abundantly clear that Arjuna’s arrogance, boastful nature and rejection of Krishna’s grace cause his downfall.

Let us make a brief diversion to Mahabharata, to the last book in particular, Svargarohanaparva. Recall Draupadi and the Pandava brothers fall one after the other while ascending to heaven. As Dharmaraya explains to Bhima, Arjuna falls because of his vanity, but Arjuna’s character flaws aren’t what the epic poets are interested in. However, in the Babhruvahana episode, as is the case in many other episodes (the battle with Sudhanva too is a good example, as anyone who has watched Sudhanvakalaga Yakshagana would attest) during the Asvamedha campaign, Arjuna’s setbacks are all connected back to his arrogance and refusal to accept Krishna’s help. Perhaps this is also a narrative requirement since now Babhruvahana is what Arjuna was then: the young prince, who embodies grace, kingly bearing, valor and devotion towards Krishna. This dramatic reinterpretation of Arjuna’s character is a reminder of what Krishna says to Duryodhana at the end of the Kurukshetra battle: no man is entirely good and no man is entirely bad. We are then reminded of the good and evil that reside within all of us, and how our svabhava (as in both nature and character) are likely to change in time.

In the film, though, Krishna’s influence is all pervasive. In fact, a Krishna-centred theology is the determining element; it constitutes this world and more significantly influences all the moral visions that are generated. While the plot of the film must be quite evident by now, allow me to briefly recapitulate. Arjuna, who has violated the agreement among brothers by entering (albeit accidentally to take weapons) the room in which his elder brother Dharmaraya and Draupadi were alone, sets out on an year long pilgrimage. He meets and marries first Uluci, the Naga princess and then Chitrangada, the princess of Manipur. Before Babhruvahana is born, Krishna causes Arjuna to forget both these marriages and transports him to Dwarka, the Yadava capital. There, Arjuna marries Subhadra, against the wishes of her brother Balarama. The second part of the film is primarily about Arjuna’s return to Manipur a few decades later and his confrontation with Babhruvahana, who kills him in the ensuing battle. Following Uluci’s advice, Babhruvahana goes to the underworld, brings the legendary Sanjivini stone and then with Krishna’s grace, revives Arjuna, who realizes his follies.

I must now return to the theme with which I ended part 1 – strong women and (the question of their) character. The women in the film are more interesting, strong, independent characters and in fact, go against the stereotypical epic characterization of women. For instance, Chitrangada, who is practically the son king Chitrasena never had, is accomplished in sword play, horse riding and hunting. Yet once she encounters Arjuna, falls in love and secretly marries him, she does not return to the palace but lives in a temple outside the capital. After Arjuna leaves her, she leads a simple, monastic life, remaining faithful to an absent husband and raises an ideal son; but as we noticed earlier, she also is clear about her own dharma (duty) and volunteers to help her husband against her own son. Similarly, Uluci too falls in love with Arjuna, marries him secretly and when Arjuna leaves her, she accepts her fate graciously; she regards Chitrangada as her younger sister, helps her raise Babhruvahana and even trains him in martial arts. She also advises on how to bring his father back to life.

I realize that with such a reading I would be throwing stones at many a feminist beehives. A critical reading of the patriarchal values in this story is not only possible but necessary too. If God Krishna himself sactions and causes Arjuna’s abandonment of these women, then that is hardly defensible. Moreover, should they have remained faithful to Arjuna after their short-lived marriages, especially in light of the humiliation Chitrangada suffers? While all these questions should govern our reading of the film, I want to shift the debate away from what they remain committed to the nature and form of their commitment itself.

I want to suggest what we recuperate from Chitrangada and Uluci isn’t a notion of pativratya, an ideal wife. Their nature of commitment demonstrates a remarkable ability to remain true to an ideal, to a feeling (which is crucial in this case since they fell in love with Arjuna) to a course of life they choose, and ultimately to themselves. Even in a film saturated with Krishna devotion and the ultimate objective is breaking Arjuna’s ego, what seems to be important is an idealism that Chitrangada and Uluci choose to embody and which Babhruvahana seeks to defend. Both Chitrangada and Uluci nurture and sustain the world they create, in which Arjuna and even Krishna are merely visitors. The film then revolves around the question of character and commitment.

It comes as no surprise then that two of India’s foremost writers Tagore and Kuvempu wrote on Chitrangada. Perhaps that ought to be the theme for another posting. But before I get to that, I will write on the dialogues and songs of the film, which must be some of the most memorable dialogues and songs in Kannada film history.