Erendiraaaaa.... Ji, Dadi-sa!!!

‘An unparalleled new theatre adaptation of Gabriel Garcia Marquez's Erendira and Her Heartless Grandmother, by one of India's most prestigious theatre companies, TV and Theatre Associates, Delhi.’

Translated into a Rajasthani dialect and portrayed as a folk tale, Erendira is based on Marquez's story of a fourteen-year-old girl who accidentally sets fire to her grandmother’s (dadi-sa) palace of a household and then has to spend the rest of her life as a roving prostitute, raising money to make good the damage, is captivating, scintillating and deeply moving as well. The girl gains in popularity and the grandmother makes money, until, perhaps inevitably, Erendira falls in love with Ulysses (Ullasi), a truck driver and induces him to slay the woman who has forced her into a life of prostitution. A bizarre fairytale plays out, marrying epic tragedy with contemporary culture. It’s remarkable fluidity in the progression of the narrative and the precision with which the actors morph into different characters as well as swap roles, is superlative.

Five actors together representing the grandmother sprawled out in her bathtub, indeed, look much like the huge white whale that Marquez describe her as. Six women play the role of the innocent girl who gives up her body every night to strangers for a price. Five women and a young man play Grandmother, in each of her grotesque avatars. All of them wear pancake make-up, the sort that Kabuki-dancers sport, to give the play overtones of a puppet show. A spectacle that combined elements of fantasy, fairy tale, foot-tapping music (a heady mix of the Colombian carnivalesque and Rajasthani folk beats), lively dancing (Flamenco, Kalaripayattu, folk dances) and plenty of razzle-dazzle. The costumes, the stage décor and the props have a lot of gold in them - to signify opulence, aridity, claustrophobia, riches, money (an obvious spill-over of the image of the Grandmother’s gold vest — the only thing that Erendira takes with her before leaving after the old harridan had been slain). Another interesting touch is in the pairs of trousers, hanging in a row from a clothesline, later joined by a series of deflated balloons in the shape of human bodies. Phenomenal choice of music and choreography made it an evening and a play to remember.

Directed by Amal Allana, this production has a unique and rich blend of rhythms, movement, costumes, masks and performance style that creates links between India and Latin America, a smooth blend of the different cultures. Not having read Marquez (soon to be remedied), I quote… ‘Set against the backdrop of a colourful, exuberant, culturally hybrid world, Erendira draws parallels between the fantastical element of Magical Realism in the Latin American tradition, and the folk tales and myths of Rajasthan, which have the same strange quality and sensuality seen in Marquez's work. Magic Realism is one key device regularly associated in contemporary literature with notions of otherness and post-colonial dislocation, experiences shared by India and Latin America. The vibrant visual effects, choreography and music all contribute to the multiple strands of different cultures and identities woven into the texture of the play.’

Questioning Reality

Wrote the following stuff in college .. can't remember when.. was looking through my old floppies when it turned up..... gosh, what crap I used to write!!!!!!!

Questioning Reality

I see. I see my hands. I see trees. I see the grass, the sky, and the world.

I see. I see tiny black lines revolving around one another. I see dark shadows. I see stretching curving contours. I see the world.

I see. I see oblongs joined together. I see green patches. I see olive patches and the world.

I see. I see squares of peach. I see rectangles of brown. I see triangles of green. I perceive the world.

What do I see? Do I really see or do I perceive? Is perception a matter of visualising what we see as simplified forms or as complexities that cannot be understood?

What do you see? Do you see what I see? Or is it that you cannot see what I see because it is not what I see? Do your senses interpret it differently from mine? Or is the world in existence simply there to be seen through each of our eyes?

I see you. I draw a figure with a head, a torso, two arms and two legs. Do you see what I see?

I see your drawing of me. I see a head, a torso, two arms and two legs. Is that what you see? Or does your drawing differ in your eyes from my perception of it?

Do my eyes translate your perception into mine? Do yours? Why cannot I see your perceptions? Or do I?

Is there only one reality? Or is it the same reality called by names? Or is it the same names that denote each person's perception of the same object and unify them?

I see a tree. I see branches. I see leaves. I see a trunk. I perceive that there must be roots.

What do you see? Are the branches like the ones I see? Are the leaves? Is the trunk? Do you perceive the existence of roots? Do you picture them as I do?

Does the world define us? Or do we define the world? Do we perceive it as it should be? Is it existent only to be perceived? Would it exist were there noone to perceive it? Would we exist were there noone to perceive us?

Who am I? What am I? Is it my perception or someone else's that defines me? Do I really exist as I see myself or am I someone's perception of an object existing in the spatio-temporal reality?

Am I always perceptible or do I flicker in and out of this dimension through your fancies? Am I real? What is reality? Is perception reality or is mere knowledge enough?

What is knowledge? Is it perception? Is it the ability to see what exists? Or is it the need to see what exists? But does 'it' really exist? Or is it the need to feel as though I exist?

Is there reality beyond my consciousness? Do I need to perceive objects to stabilize my own soul? What is stability if there is no reality? What is my soul if there is no stability? What am I? Where am I?

Where am I? Do dimensions exist? Does this dimension exist? Does the universe exist? Being without an identity do I have the ability or the right to question the existance of these and of the universe?

Or does the universe question me? Does it perceive me as an entity? Does it have a definition for me? Does it contain the answers I seek? But does it really exist? If it does not, how is it that I am aware of it?

What is awareness? Is it the ability to see or to perceive? Is it proof of my existence? What is existence? What is life?

Is life perception? Is it knowledge? Is it awareness? Is it sentience? Yet, if I do not exist, how can I be sentient? How can I be aware? How can I know? How can I perceive?

So, if I am sentient, I perceive and I am aware, do I have proof that I exist? Again, I see. I observe. I think. I reason. I perceive. I derive proof undeniable. I live. Reality defines me. I define reality.

Yet, who am I? What am I?

What is reality?