Parthapratim Deb’s presentation at BRM shed light on the life of naachnis and rasiks from Purulia, who have meagre means of sustenance but they find solace in music
Naachni is a folk dance form in eastern India performed by the women dancers of that name: coming from the lowest social rung. They are accompanied by their patron-men, rasiks, who carry musical instruments, dholki and nagara, synchronising steps on the stage with naachnis. The dance originated in Odisha but was later widely performed in Jharkhand and Purulia region of West Bengal. Naachnis were considered as kept women in the beginning and paired with their rasiks in informal nuptial rituals.
Rasik, the pioneering Bengali novel by Subrata Mukhopadhyay, did a detailed chronicling of the disappearing class of naachnis and their rasiks in Purulia. The harsh climate and difficult existence in Purulia blend with its soft melodies, and reflect lives of its musical people who have songs on their lips and pain in their hearts. When the dry, stony and arid lands await the rains, the wretched of the earth — who have almost no means of sustenance — live by the rich traditions of songs (like jhumur) and dances (like Chhau). The saga in Rasik is replete with many accounts of how naachnis cannot claim marriage; are debarred from owning families or children, and, once outside their orbit of art, are pushed to the farthest end of the rigidly-patriarchic society.
Naachni, presented by Nandikar from Kolkata, is structured on the novel Rasik. The young Bijolibala is sold by her mother, an old and poverty-stricken naachni, to a dacoit. Rescued by her already-married paramour Pandav Kumar, Bijoli finds shelter in his home, alongside Dhruva Kumar, the older rasik, Kusmibai, his ageing naachni; and Pandav’s wife lata. Out of infatuation for Bijoli, Pandav resolves to take her on as own naachni and this is when the situation spins out of control. Dhruva is unable to face new competition as well as new generation of rasiks and naachnis, pushing, especially Kusmibai, to fatal consequences. Directed by the upcoming musician Parthapratim Deb, the show is a grand song-and-dance spectacle. The play weaves the warp and weft of the lives of the much-harassed artistic people, who amidst their weal and woe can spin out a musical carnival: at the drop of a hat!
The play ends in a heart-wringing scenario when Kusmibai’s dead body is tied to a rope: to be dragged to the village outskirts and to be deserted there for the feasting dogs and jackals, for, naachnis are not entitled to either cremation or burial rites under the prevailing canons. The cry of protest by Bijoli against this ultimate cruelty stirs the apathetic onlookers — echoing the little child’s stone-throw at the rich man’s window pane: in Shyam Benegal’s film Ankur — as a metaphor of anguish for the entire society.
Deb observes, “First, the milieu of the play was located — geo-physically, linguistically, socio-culturally and economically — in a terrain so different from our own, that the whole cast needed a lot of reorientation. Secondly, It was a challenge for us to acquaint ourselves with a different world of tunes, tones, rhythms and musical instruments — with motions and movements born out of a land and life — harsher and poorer than ours.”