A musical with a powerful story, excellent dialogue
Aadyam presented a novel play Bandish 20-20000 hz at Delhi’s Kamani Hall last week. A cleverly crafted play, it focused on several ideas — the fate of the “Bais” (female vocalists) after Independence, rivalries between folk singers and classical singers, the obsession amongst musicians for money, their reliance on technological support, intolerance in India, the growing power of social media. Even so, the two hour 15 minute play was too long, and stretched in parts, specially before the interval.
The script is excellently crafted with several wonderfully clever lines; the music directed, and in main part, composed by Shubha Mudgal excellent and apt; the sets superb. An image of a bygone age was created by simple yet effective props — a wood screen with coloured glass mosaic and fret work, two old-fashioned chandeliers, a hand worked punkha. The costumes are excellent, with an eye to detail, and succeed in recreating the fashions of an earlier era.
However, it’s the music that is the soul of the play. There was an excellent live orchestra behind stage; the singers were adequate, the music very relevant in unfolding the story line. Ragas Tilang, Bhairavi, Gaur Sarang (mishra) all beautifully made their presence felt. The play uses the lives of four artists to unfold the story — two are relics of a bygone age. Folk singer Champa Bai is played by Anubha Fatehpuria, who with her stage presence handled the main part with effortless ease, and Beni Bai played by Nivedita Bhargava, had an admirable restrained dignity. The mainstay of the play was Munnu, who handled the Bai’s affairs. With powerful lines, and perfect acting, Munnu played by Danish Hussain stole the show. The other younger artists were played by Ishpita Singh Chakravorty (Moushami) and Hitesh Malukani (Kabir). Directing the four artists was the manager of a show celebrating 70 years of Independence, played by Harsh Khurana. The play is directed by Purva Naresh.
The play poignantly traces the lives of the two singers — their struggles to sing, the patrons from whom they needed support, and who they constantly need to please, the horrors faced by them when an iniquitous All India Radio arbitrarily banned the use of the harmonium and broadcast of singing by the Bai’s — Champa Bai sardonically states that to survive, the Bai’s had to either get married and become “Devis” or face a fate worse than prostitution. Perhaps an unnecessary addition to the already complex storyline was the ongoing struggle for swadesh, and azadi from the British and the pressure their princely patrons had to undergo. The careful intermingling of a musical with a powerful story, excellent dialogue, combined with minimal dancing make this a play to watch.
The ills of the present generation of musicians too are highlighted in the play; Moushami is unable to sing live without her electronic paraphernalia; she is bound in the “image” that she has carefully constructed for herself. The other singer, Kabir has been branded anti-national by an unforgiving social media for becoming a hit in the “neighbouring country”. Perhaps another extraneous addition to the already packed storyline were the allusions to an aborted relationship between the two; there is already too much going on in the play.
The most touching moment of the play is when both rival bai’s clear the distrust of a lifetime and honestly verbalise their feelings about each other’s craft, and burst into a spontaneous song. Overall,
a great play!