Puneet Issar’s retelling of Mahabharata through the eyes of its antagonists, though bleak in its representation due to the TV soap-like execution of its script, raises the right questions against the unjust society and challenges the idea of how history has always belonged to the victors, says Chahak Mittal
Every story has a protagonist and an antagonist. And the latter is usually the flawed one, who is eventually defeated by the former and mostly called the ‘villain’. The protagonist, on the other hand, is always praised and looked at as an example of the ideal human being. But ever wondered why the antagonist is an antagonist after all? And why not a hero? Who decides what is wrong or right? How are the two terms defined? What if even the protagonist did something wrong initially? And what if what he did was even worse than the actions of the one portrayed as the negative character?
Actor-director Puneet Issar’s retelling of the Mahabharata through Karna and Duryodhana’s (the so-called antagonists of the great epic) perspectives makes one ask these questions. The play challenges the notion of history, which has always been written through the eyes of the victors rather than those who were defeated. It questions as to why he has always been looked at as such a bad character in the epic while he was so generous with his countrymen and loyal to his friend. Despite that, even though Karna is seen as the tragic hero, Duryodhana came to be known as the villain.
The play, divided into different scenes, begins with young Duryodhana’s soliloquy where he laments how the Kauravas have always been neglected as compared to the Pandavas due to their father and blind king Dhritarashtra. He calls out, ‘Jo adhikaar mila na pita ko, mujhe kyun na mile? Main toh andha nahi hun,’ and swears to be the one who is the first one to be remembered by the generations to come when they speak of the Mahabharata. Even though the narration lacks elements of some subtlety due to its very direct though powerful narration by Meghna Malik, Puneet makes Duryodhana the centre of the epic brilliantly, without justifying any of his wrong or misguided deeds. He reasons, ‘Jab mujhme ghrina ka beej boya hai bachpan se, toh mere phal bhi toh ghrina ke hi honge na. Main likhunga itihaas naya, mujhe yaad rakhegi duniya,’ presenting an idea that even though he and his brothers have always been despised, there’s a reason for their behaviour which lies in their treatment.
The second scene showcases Karna’s coronation by Duryodhana as the Angaraaj and a clash between Arjun and Karna where the other people in the court, including Vidura and Dronacharya, put him down by calling him a Sutputra and asserting that only Kshatriyas are allowed to fight in the court of Bharatvansha. The act introduces a number of characters in the play as Arjun and Karna’s confrontation is always interrupted by some or the other character, including (orderwise) Duryodhana, Bheem, Yudhishtir and Nakul and Sahdev. And each one of them, emerge from the back of the auditorium and make their way amidst the audience. The act, however, was the most powerful of all as it did bring across a message when Duryodhana questions the discrimination being done against Karna. From questioning the ‘dasi-putra’ Vidura to reminding Drona of Eklavya’s sacrifice, he says, ‘Sir pe swarnmukut, bheetar se kaale kaale!’ and makes a point that one’s destiny is decided by one’s actions (karma) and that caste cannot determine it. He then honours Karna as the king of Anga and his friend.
The next act takes one to Draupadi’s swayamvar where Karna is all set to hit the fish’s eye with his arrow. He is interrupted by Draupadi who insults him by calling him a Sutputra and hence, ineligible of being her husband. Full marks to Draupadi’s (played by Urvashi Dholakia) acting skills, however, unfortunately, the woman who has symbolised power and femininity has been shown in a very dark light in the play. The director’s rendition of her showcases her as a woman who was just arrogant and proud of her wealth and beauty rather than depicting her as the epitome of justice and feminism. She was a woman of substance and her strong personality and will power made her attractive. Furthermore, while the play says that it tells Mahabharata through the eyes of Duryodhana and Karna both, I wished there was more of Karna as much as it was of the former’s. Even after Draupadi walks off the stage and Karna is left alone, he does not voice an opinion.
Duryodhana’s insult by Draupadi is the next act and what I said about Drapuadi’s representation in the previous scene continues here as well. She calls Duryodhana as ‘Andhe ka putra andha,’ and laughs out loud like the villainous women in Indian TV soaps. Though Duryodhana’s brilliant monologue after Draupadi exits the stage saves the act, which is followed by Sakuni’s entry and his plotting of the dice game against the Pandavas. The scene makes for laughs too when Sakuni delivers some humorous dialogues. After the Pandavas lose all that they had, including themselves and their wife, Panchali is dragged to the stage by Dushasan by her hair. Well, the most striking thing that I observed here is that even though Karna is anguished by this behaviour against Panchali and wants Duryodhana to take back his order of stripping her in the court, he never says anything. In other versions, it is said that Karna at least tried to stop Duryodhana but is shunned due to his loyalty and promise to his friend of never going against him. However, here, especially when the play was said to be told through both of their perspectives, I wished Karna’s misery came across at least once. The scene got a round of applause as Draupadi questioned all the men in the court who turned blind during her assault, reflecting upon society’s reality and how it has turned its back towards women during the time when it is needed the most. The act also makes space for the audience to explore what Duryodhana felt about how Panchali’s five husbands stayed silent to their wife’s harassment. He says that it was wrong of Dushasan to have held her by her hair and thrown in the court but why did nobody question Yudhishtir who didn’t utter a word. ‘Main galat kyun? This is not the way Bharatvansha’s bahu (or daughter-in-law) should have been treated and you know that, Pitamah Bhishma!’ he says.
Certainly, the play makes for a great visual representation of the epic with its vibrant costumes and stage set-up; however, there isn’t anything new that the audience would find here. The attempt of presenting the story by making its antagonists the heroes is commendable but the perspectives given by the character doesn’t present a lot of new things. The overdramatised scenes and repetition of certain punchlines remind one of the various TV soaps based on the epic. And the extremely loud dialogue delivery definitely reminds one of the Mahabharata that became every household’s Sunday breakfast show during the 90s.
(The play was brought by BookMyShow.)
