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mehakuuu! . 😃

Girish Karnad unintentionally started writing in plays Kannada though he was much inclined towards the English writers and the thought of writing in English. 'Yakshagana', the traditional folk theatre of Karnataka, influenced himand his plays Yayathi, Hayavadana, Tughlag, and Naga -Mandala certainly reveal this influence.

Language functions as a basic medium through which meaning is filtered, but it also acts as a cultural and political system that has meaning in itself. The post-colonial stage acts as a principal arena for the enunciation of such a system. Therefore, it is often a central question in postcolonial studies. During colonization, colonizers usually imposed their language onto the peoples they colonized, forbidding natives to speak their mother tongues.

The theoretical and scholarly debate about language is addressed in detail in The Empire Writes Back (1989). Bill Ashcroft, Gareth Griffiths and Helen Tiffin explore the ways in which writers encounter a dominant, colonial language. They describe a two-part process through which writers in the post-colonial world displace a standard language and replace it with a local variant that does not have the perception of being sub-standard but, rather reflects a distinct cultural outlook through local usage. These two-part processes are "abrogation" and "accommodation".

Abrogation is a refusal of the categories of the imperial culture, its aesthetic, its illusory standard of normative or 'correct' usage, and its assumption of a traditional and fixed meaning 'inscribed' in the words.

Appropriation, on the other hand, is the process by which the language is made to 'bear the burden' of one's own cultural experience. Language is adopted as a tool and utilized to express widely differing cultural experiences. Appropriation of the colonized can also be affected through manipulation with lexical semantics.

Imperial appropriation means such a discursive presentation of the colonized that their culture, history, language, and other identity traits either disappear completely or merge with the respective aspects of the hegemonic imperial identity. The imperial appropriation seeks to deprive a colonized people of a sense of their authenticity and, with it. of the will to exist as a separate self-sustained and self-reproducing culture. Alongside literature, historiography, film, and other domains of human creativity involved in the production of ideologies of domination, language has been a central tool of the imperial appropriation of the colonized. Deleuze and Guattari maintain, language is not a concrete and predetermined entity but a site of continual (re)construction:

"There is no language in itself, nor any universality of language, but a discourse of dialects, patois, slangs, special languages. There exists no ideal 'competent' speaker-hearer of language, any more than there exists a homogeneous linguistic community…. There is no mother tongue, but a seizure of power by a dominant tongue within a political multiplicity."

It is this 'seizure of power' by a dominant language that post- colonial theatre seeks to address by abrogating the privilege of English in order to accommodate other 'tongues' as well.

The post-colonial authors are careful to point out; however, that abrogation alone, though a vital step in "decolonizing" a dominant language is not sufficient, in that it offers the danger that roles will be reversed and a new set of normative practices will move into place.

Gerald Vizenor, a writer and critic, has celebrated English as a vehicle for resistance:

"The English language has been the linear tongue of the colonial discoveries, racial cruelties, invented names, the simulation of tribal cultures, manifest manners, and the unheard literature of dominance in tribal communities; at the same time, this mother tongue of para-colonialism has been a language of invincible imagination and liberation for many people of the Post-Indian worlds. English . . . has carried some of the best stories of endurance, the shadows of tribal creative literature, and now that same language of dominance bears the creative literature of distinguished Post-Indian authors in cities. . . . The shadows and language of tribal poets and novelists could be the new ghost dance literature, the shadow literature of liberation that enlivens tribal survival." (Manifest Manners, 1994, 105-6)

In semiotic terminology, language resonates with every other theatrical signifier, it is often viewed by audiences as the fundamental and most important system through which a play 'means'. When colonized people hear dialogue spoken in their own tongue—and not in the 'correct' British English often erroneously assumed to be the only language worth staging—they understand it through literal, metaphorical, and political frames of reference which are specific to their own culture and experience.

The theories of Ferdinand de Saussure and Charles Sanders Pierce become significantly important in analyzing the semiotics of the plys Naga- Mandala and Hayavadana. Saussure held that semiotics was a science that studied the role of signs as part of social life. Saussure claimed that linguistics was a branch of this science. Saussure offered two-part model of the sign; focusing on linguistic signs (such as words), he defined a sign as being composed of a 'signifier' and a 'signified'. For Saussure, both the signifier and the signified were purely 'psychological'; both were form rather than substance. On the other hand for Charles Pierce, semiotics was a formal doctrine of signs which was closely related to logic. He was of the opinion that people think in terms of signs. Unless someone believes that one particular sign stands for something else that they have known, that sign has no value. The interaction between the representamen, the object and the interpretant is referred to by Peirce as 'semiosis'.

Cultural code works on the principle of shared world view. It exploits information that persists it one culture and uses it to the best of its ability. By using appropriate cultural codes a lot of decoding is made easier for the readers. Local proverbs, in particular, communicate a resonant, poetic meaning that Standard English expression does not normally allow. It throws light on the beliefs and superstitions that exist in that particular culture.

The best use of cultural code would be the snake ordeal that Rani performs in order to prove herself innocent. In accordance with the traditional belief to prove oneself innocent one would either have to hold red hot bars of iron in the hand and plead innocence, immerse their hands in boiling oil or perform the snake ordeal.

The term Naga-Mandala is a compound of two words: naga and mandala. Naga means serpent and mandala implies decorative pictorial drawings on the floor. The decorative drawing in this context means the drawing of the figure of serpent god in a prescribed form. Naga-Mandala depicts the divine union of male and female snakes.

Naga-Mandala is an elaborate and spectacular ritual of serpent worship at present found in Tulunadu, especially in Mangalore and Udupi districts. Nagamandala is also called hudiseve, mandlabhoga or mandlaseve by the Baidyas. But nagamandala is a term generally used by all to denote this form of worship.

Like the ritual the play also revolves around the union of a snake. However, the union is not with another snake, instead it is the union of a snake in the form of a human with another human. The play is based on two folk-tales that Karnad heard from his mentor A.K Ramanujan. According to Karnad the story-telling in Naga-Mandala 'often serve as a parallel system of communication among the women in the family. They also express a distinctly woman's understanding of the reality around her, a lived counterpoint to the patriarchal structures… '

Appana the male head of the household only needs to issue commands, 'Keep my lunch eady. I shall go and eat.', and Rani only needs obey them. In fact, Karnad treats Rani 'as a metaphor for the situation of a young girl in the bosom of a joint family.' Thus, his use of gender specific language illustrates the inner workings of a patriarchal Indian society.

The exhibition of undue ardor of love is not regarded as decorous or aesthetically permissible; nor extravagant expressions of jealousy, hate, or anger--in fact, nothing sensational or violent. Sorrow is toned down to a gentle melancholy. Kissing, sleeping, eating, scratching, or yawning are considered indelicate; and there is never any reference to such topics as banishment, plague, or national calamity of any sort. There are stock figures, such as the accomplished courtesan (the anonymous Concubine in Naga –Mandala), the humble confidant and friend of the hero (Kapila in Hayavadana). Magic and supernatural events have a large part in the action of many pieces: characters are put under a curse, bewitched, or caused to assume the form of an animal or a tree or in Naga's case that of a human.

Theatre also assists in the maintenance of spoken languages that are essential to oral traditions and their transmission of history, culture, and social order. Oral cultures emphasise not only the sound and rhythm of language and its accompanying paralinguistic features, but also the site from which it is spoken. A dramatic focus on oral traditions opens up the possibility of challenging the tyranny of the written word through which many imperial languages claim their authenticity.

Although sometimes used to convey, metaphorically, an idea and/ or emotion, musical signification generates cultural meanings in its own right. When music is combined with theatre, its signifying power inevitably multiplies: in addition to its own signification, music contributes to either enhance a mood, or affect an atmosphere.

Moreover, if post-colonial theatre provides an occasion for a vocal expression of solidarity, resistance, or even presence, song can intensify the reactions of both the actors and the audience. Its effects can be multiplied by the power of numerous voices of a chorus, reinforcing communal action/interaction by increasing both vocal numbers and volume.
Hayavadana opens with a prayer, followed by a dialogue between the manager and one of the actors, in which the audience is complimented and the chief circumstances of the coming presentation described; then by skillful management the dialogue merges into the play. There is division into acts and scenes, the intermissions being filled by musicians. The greater part of the piece is in prose, while the more impassioned passages are in verse, the four-line stanza being much in use. There are many lyrical scenes in which lovely things in nature are described, also many moral reflections and precepts of wisdom. Such lines are always put into the mouth of an
important character and are given in Sanskrit, which has not been the common language of India since about 300 B.C., though it is still spoken by Brahmin priests. While the gods, heroes, and the few important personages speak in this aristocratic tongue, the women, slaves, and all minor characters use the dialect of the lower class. The play closes, as it opens, with a prayer.

Hayavadana itself is a word borrowed from India's indigenous language meaning 'the one with the horses head.' Karnad does not hesitate to either assert the colloquialism of the text which has been strongly flavored Indian due to heavy lexical borrowing. Words like

Integrally associated with language is the speaker's sense of autonomy and dignity, in other words the colonized's truth or reality, both of which are diminished when the colonizer denies the linguistic validity of indigenous languages.

In most countries of the former British Empire, language inevitably changes as its surrounding culture changes. The addition of technological or colloquial words, the disuse of now archaic words, and the relaxing of once-rigid grammar rules are but a few examples. More colloquial Englishes' also inevitably compete for attention with Standard English. As well as being inherently mutable over time, an imperial language alters when its speakers are exposed to other languages. Indigenous words that are more descriptive or accurate than any imposed terms become 'adopted' into English and its grammatical structures are sometimes inserted into those of other languages. Some colonized subjects abrogate —or refuse to privilege—the imposed language, at least in its more formal registers, in order to regain a speaking position that is not determined by the colonizer. Other colonized subjects appropriate words or forms of English and employ them to a different purpose in an indigenous or a creolized language.

When a playwright chooses an indigenous language over English, s/he refuses to submit to the dominance of the imposed standard language and to subscribe to the 'reality' it sustains. The language used in both plays creates metatheatre; Karnad very intelligently mirrors the sufferings of the audience whether they are conscious of it or not. Karnad's metatheatre begins by sharpening the awareness of the unlikeness of life to dramatic art; it may end by making the audience aware of life's uncanny likeness to art or illusion. By calling attention to the strangeness, artificiality, illusoriness, or arbitrariness -- in short, the theatricality -- of the life that the audience, participants, actors, and the writer himself experience, it marks those frames and boundaries that conventional dramatic realism would hide. It may present action so alien, improbable, stylized, or absurd that the audience is forced to acknowledge the estranging frame that encloses a whole play. It also breaks the frame of the "fourth wall" of conventional theatre, reaching out to assault the audience or to draw it into the realm of the play. Karnad -by devices like plays within plays, self-consciously "theatrical" characters, and commentary on the theatre itself -- dwells on the boundaries between "illusion" or artifice and "reality" within a play, making the audience speculate on the complex mixture of illusion and reality in their ordinary experience.

In imperial history and theatre, the colonized subject has traditionally been figured as silent, in opposition to the linguistically adept colonizer in whose language is situated the key to authority and knowledge. While language is commonly misperceived to be the loudest and clearest mode of theatrical communication, there are at least three 'silences' that are expressively deployed on the post-colonial stage: inaudibility, muteness, and refusals to speak.

Post-colonial plays generally refuse to limit their characters to positions of linguistic marginality; instead, most dismantle such positions, even by means of the apparently non-communicative language of silence. The first silence, inaudibility, becomes obvious when the body's language or the proxemic signifiers are more expressive than his/her voiced utterance. A more specific instance of inaudibility occurs when a character cannot be heard by others on stage, but can be heard by the audience. Karnad employs numerous asides as stated in the stage direction to stage the audiences' subconscious and consciousness;

'Kapila: (Aside) […] Why this emptiness…' (Hayavadana, Act One)

'Devadatta: (To himself) And my disappointment? […]' (Hayavadana, Act One)

Karnad's characters like the audience are completely aware of their sentiments towards particular incidents but they choose to remain either inaudible or silent.

Silence in the form of physical muteness is also a common trope in post-colonial drama. The child in Hayavadana does not talk, 'Not a word […] this one doesn't speak a word.' Thus the identity of the Child is a reflection of the newly born post-colonial India; a merger of eastern and western tradition, it will find its voice eventually like the Child but, it will take time.

Not only does silence repeat in Hayavadana, deliberate pauses inserted as stage direction in the Prologue in Naga-Mandala and the succeeding acts are transcriptions of the audience's muteness towards the imperialistic supermacism imposed on them by the colonizers. Karnad uses repetition of dialogue too;

'Don't ask questions. Do as I tell you.' (Rani, Naga and Apanna in Naga- Mandala, Act one and Act Two)

'It's dangerous in your condition.' ( Devadatta Hayavadana Act one and Act Two)

Both plays, Naga- Mandala and Hayavadana, are characterized by Karnad's use of exaggerated expresiveness in dialogues, magical realism and myths, elaborated indigenous costumes, transliterations of the text and the circular fluidity that the verbal structures impart. With kaarnad venture into experimentation of the fusion of eastern and western theatres a modern drama in India takes form.

irony''

Over the years, Girish Karnad has emerged as the most significant playwright of the post-independence Indian literature. He has not restricted his talent to the drama only: he is a director, an actor and an adept practioner of performing arts. The reason of his success lies in his radical innovation in the Indian drama. He fuses Indian mythology and folktales with modern European concepts to illuminate the present of Indian people. Therefore, it is right to conclude that Karnad's plays are 'consciously anchored' in the ancient theory and tradition, thus depicting his invincible interest in Indian folk theatre, and his respect for its theatrical traditions.

Karnad's plays ends with a profound impact on audience. He creates and then roots the seed of uncertainty in their minds with respect to the society they live in. He does not allow the audience to eject their feeling neither directs them towards the truth or absolute truth; rather he poses questions that lurk in the minds of the spectators and readers, making them reflective of the world they reside. He achieves this by employing various Eastern and Western theatrical techniques and linguistic devices including prologue, myths, masks, music and dance etc.

From the start of his career till at present, Karnad has written and directed various plays but the most famous of them are 'Hayavadana,' and 'Naga-Mandala.' Despite being vastly different from each other, both plays have two features in common; they are based on ancient Indian myths, and incorporate irony to manifest the troubles of modern man. The aim of the following paper is to highlight and analyze the wide use of 'irony' employed in his both plays.

'Naga-Mandala' is based on two folktales from Karnataka. It retains the essential qualities of 'once upon a time…' fairy tales with locked princess, a cruel villain, 'Agnee Pariksha' and a true prince charming. The play constitutes a prologue and two acts, inspired from classical Indian drama and the theatre of absurd respectively.

The prologue is laden with irony from its setting to the action. The location of prologue is of a 'ruined temple' where the 'idol is broken.' It's ironic that a temple, which is a house of god in Hinduism, is abandoned and in derelict state, with 'cracks in the roof and the walls'. Moreover 'the presenting deity of the temple cannot be identified.' 'The nameless and empty temple' with faceless deity, is itself the personification of irony as in Hinduism the face of the idol determines its followers and sects. The juicy gossips of the 'naked lamp flames' about their masters and mistresses adds to the ambience of mockery. Their 'chattering', 'giggles' and 'sneering' remarks are all paradoxical to the discipline of the temple. They are candidly discussing the taboo topic of sex and sexual life in the house of god. This is stated as:

Flame 2: …my master and his young wife, young and juicy as a tender cucumber. I was chased

out fast.

Flame 3: My master's eyes have to feast on his wife limb by limb if the rest of him is to react.

Besides this, traces of comic irony can also be noted. The most evident example is when the Man remarks:

'I hadn't realized my plays had that much impact'

Since, he never thought his plays to be the cause of his death. This is followed by an example of situational irony. The Man says:

'I swear by this absent God, if I survive this night I shall have nothing more to do with themes, plots, or stories. I abjure all storytelling, all play acting.'

Since Karnad has taken this character of 'Sutradhara', or the narrator, from ancient Indian drama, the readers and audience will know the irony of this statement. The Man who is renouncing any kind of story telling would eventually commence the play. He breaks his vow in these words:

'I suppose I have no choice

(To the audience)

So now you know why this play is being done. I have no choice. Bear with me, please. As you can see it is a matter of life and death for me.'

Act One also incorporates various aspects and types of irony. This is presented in the opening dialogue of the 'Story'. In which she is introducing Rani's story. She says:

'Her fond father found her a suitable husband'

With his being rich and both parents dead, her parents thought Rani would have no problems with her husband; but what happens is the opposite. Rani, who was the queen in her parents' house, is locked up like an animal. Her condition is deplorable than of a maid and her name Rani, thus becomes the irony here. The irony of the names extend to envelop Kappanna also as his name means 'the dark one,' but 'this parrot of (Kurudavva's) eyes' is in truth the 'fair child'. Through this, the dramatist is notifying the nature of people around us. They see the society as they want to see it, and not as what it is.

Kurudavva, the old friend of Appanna's mother, is a blind elderly woman. She visit's Rani to console her and says:

'Let me touch you. My eyes are all in my fingers.'

It's ironic how Appanna, who is gifted with sight, is blind towards Rani's long tresses, her beauty and youth. Kurudavva, on the other hand 'was born blind,' yet she can 'see' Rani's 'loveliness': 'Ears like hibiscus. Skin like young mango leaves. Lips like rolls of silk.' So by the use of irony here, Karnad is pointing out that although people have the sense of sight, but in the real sense they are blind, not only towards others but also towards themselves.

In Indian values and culture, a girl is protected like a gem, hidden inside the walls of the house so that no intruder can invade her. In the true sense she attains her freedom once she is captured in the wed lock. Her husband's home becomes her domain where she is the mistress and rests are her subjects. But in case of Rani, it's rather ironic that she is imprisoned in the very place which was supposed to set her free. As Kurudavva says:

'He keeps his wife locked up like a caged bird.'

In this cage, Rani yearns for freedom. She is 'locked' inside the house, mal treated and beaten up by Appanna. At night she's scared to death. In this ambience of desolation and despair, her dreams provide her solace. She dreams about 'seven seas', a 'magical garden', a 'stag prince' and her 'parents.' Her dreams do not only represent her desires but also her parts of her unconscious. In most parts of the Indian society, women are not allowed even to think on their own. The more she thinks and voice out her opinions, the more disgrace she brings to the family's honor. She has finally found freedom in her flight of imagination. So it's ironic, how Rani craves for physical freedom, without even realizing how blessed she is to have mental liberty.

Act One ends with the transformation of Naga into Appanna, thus laying the foundations of strong dramatic irony that will be highlighted in the ensuing analysis. The first scene of Act Two is that of love and care on part of Naga, disguised as Appanna, towards Rani. Naga slowly and gradually woo's Rani and makes her comfortable in her presence, at night. On the second, night of Naga's visit, he is having hard time in luring Rani to speak, and says:

'Naga: What is the point of sitting silent like a stone image?'

To this, Rani says:

You talk so nicely at night. But during the day I only have to open my mouth and you hiss like a …stupid snake. (Naga laughs)

The aforementioned statements are purely ironic. In Hinduism, stone images are worshipped as gods. So it's ironic when he is taunting Rani of sitting silent like a god when he himself is one of them. Through this irony Karnad is voicing out his opinion of gods doing nothing for today's man. Rani's response is an example of dramatic irony. Readers are very much aware of the true situation and identity of Naga, but poor Rani is yet unaware of the reality.

The following conversation between Rani and Naga is of immense significance

With respect to the irony:

Rani: ...your blood is cold.

(Stares into his eyes. Suddenly shuts her eyes and clasps him.)

Naga: What is it now?

Rani: (Looking up) Since I looked into the mirror, I seem to be incapable of thinking of anything else. Father says: 'If a bird so much as looks at a cobra-'

…

Rani: … Father says: 'The cobra simply hooks the bird's eyes with its own sight. The bird stares-and stares-unable to move its eyes. It doesn't feel any fear either. It stands fascinated, watching the changing colors in the eyes of the cobra. It just stares, its wings half-opened as though it was sculpted in the sunlight.'

Naga: Then the snake strikes and swallows the bird.

(He kiss her…)

Its pure irony that Rani who 'shudders' at the very thought of cobra, feels safe in Naga's 'cold' blood, reptilian-embrace. The hoodwinked condition of the bird perfectly describes Rani's own feelings in the presence of Naga. Like the doomed bird, Rani is fascinated by the cobra's eyes and can't think of anything else. She is sculpted in front of Naga by his hypnotic power. Following the rules of preying, Naga strikes, Rani, on the perfect time.

When Rani breaks the news of her pregnancy to Naga, his loss of words and anguished expression compels Rani to say:

'Sometimes you are so cold-blooded- you can't be human.'

Rani is penalizing Naga for his lack of enthusiasm and cold attitude towards this news; but, in reality she has unknowingly solved the enigma of his husband's 'chameleon' like attitude, changing from 'day to night.'

The scene changes: Appanna's cold eyes replace Naga's affectionate ones. Rani is abused and assaulted by Appanna on seeing her 'bloated tummy.' He accuses her vivaciously, saying:

Appanna: Who did you go to with your sari off?

…

You shame me in front of the whole village, you darken my face, you s**t-!

Appanna, who comes home only for lunch, stays with her 'concubine.' The whole village knows about his adulterous relationship with the 'bazaari woman,' yet none have questioned him once. He is infuriated on Rani, who 'managed to find a lover' despite being locked. It's not only ironical, but also hypocritical of Appanna to 'publically question his wife's chastity' when he himself is taking pleasure in her mistress' embrace. So Karnad highlights the major problem faced by Indian women. Are chastity and loyalty are limited to women only? Are men exempted from this rigid notion.

After initial resistance, Rani undergoes the cobra ordeal. She emerges as a 'goddess incarnate' and a 'Divine Being,' with cobra's hood spread 'like an umbrella over her head.' The whole village celebrates this revelation with 'palanquin' and 'music.' Rani is now elevated to the pedestal of a goddess. She is being celebrated as the symbol of chastity. Ironically, it is her infidelity that becomes the instrument to prove her 'pathiviratha' status. While making love to her real husband, Appanna, she realizes that she is with 'someone new' now. She cried in anguish on realizing that this whole time, her husband was a stranger and the stranger was acting as husband.

This play of irony does not end here. Naga, who is infuriated on seeing Rani with someone else, decided to kill her, but couldn't compel himself to do so. He says:

'My love has stitched up my lips. Pulled out my fangs. Torn out my sac of poison…This King Cobra is now no better than a grass snake…A common reptile'

This prickles the popular notion of 'love completes a man.' It is ironical that love, which is said to complete everyone, is now the cause of reducing god King Cobra in to a 'common reptile-a grass snake.' He becomes a mere thin strand of her long tresses. The Man, consoles flames over the death of Naga by stating death as an 'inescapable truth.' It is ironic, as if death cannot be escaped then why is he running away from it.

Thus, we see that irony is carved into every frame of the play: whether it is of the Man, the flames, the story or the Rani. Through the constant use of irony, Karnad has established the irony and hypocrisy of not only the society but also individuals. This technique, to illuminate the social problems and edify his audience, is also extended in his play 'Hayavadana'.

Hayavadana is based on a tale found in Kathasaritasagara, a collection of stories in Sanskrit dating from the eleventh century. Karnad draws upon further development of the story in Thomas Mann's German novella The Transposed Heads. He borrows from both the sources, greatly embroidering them with indigenous materials.

The play revolves around the theme of 'completeness' which is ironic to its beginning, as Bhagvata, the narrator, starts the play with the worship of Ganesha god: 'the embodiment of imperfection, of incompleteness.' The narrator then continues with the story of Devdatta and Kapila, 'one mind, one heart.' The story of Hayavadana and his quest to attain 'completeness,' as a man, adds another frame to the play. On Bhagvattas's advice, Hayavadana visits goddess 'kali of Mount Chitrakoot', who is 'famous for being ever awake to the call of devotees.' Hayavadana's search for completeness ends, ironically, with his becoming a complete horse.

With this, the dramatist raises the question about the knowledge and power of gods. It's ironic that goddess Kali, referred to as 'ever awake' yawns outrageously when she is called for help. It's ironic as well as astonishing, that gods and goddesses, who know everything: heartiest desires and intentions, pasts and futures, dreams and needs-are not aware of Hayavadana's inner most desire to be a complete human being. So do they knowingly torture Hayavadana by turning him in to a horse? Karnad projects the reality of the blind, superstitious belief of the Indians in Gods and Goddess in a humorous, inoffensive way.

Similar, questions are aroused when Padmini attempts to cut off her head in front of Goddess Kali. The fierce 'Kali Mata' appears as a sleepy, bored and impatient goddess. She is indifferent to the suicides of Kapila and Devdatta. On hearing Padmini's repeated lamentation she says:

"Skip it! Do as I told you. And quickly, I'm collapsing with sleep".

And she adds, "Actually if it hadn't been that I was so sleepy, I would have thrown them out by the scruff of their necks"

Ironically, gods here are the instrument of causing great upheavals in the lives of humans, instead of blessing it. Goddess Kali never stopped Padmini from exchanging heads of Kapila and Devdatta. Thus Padmini achieved what she wanted most. With the use of irony here, Karnad is mouthing not only the restrictions of gods but also elevating humans to a more powerful status.

With 'Devdatta's clever head and Kapila's strong body,' Padmini attains the fulfillment of her desires. It is ironic, that Padmini attains completeness in the incompleteness of both Devdatta and Kapila. But her happiness soon wanes when their respective minds starts dominating their bodies. Apparently, these two friends soon become their original self, but in reality they never gained their former self. Incidentally, Padmini is the first one to notice this. When Devdatta 'puts his hands around her shoulders,' she 'suddenly shudders' and had 'goose flesh' on feeling Devdatta's 'soft touch.' Before long, three of them oscillate amongst each other. Devdatta is haunted by the 'memories' of Kapila's body. Kapila had 'war' with Devdatta's body. Padmini, 'the better half of two bodies neither wins nor lost.' The child, the result of this complex union, is himself incomplete, until he meets Hayavadana. Their incompleteness combines to make a complete self. Both, the horse and the boy, achieves wholeness in each other's lives. The play ends with homage to Ganesha, half elephant, half man.

Through this head and body conflict, Karnad explores the dilemma faced by modern Indian man, such as the spiritual self and the materialist self, the mental and the bodily, the rural and the urban, the pre-colonial and the colonised, the traditional and the modern. The use of various stylistic devices, especially irony, Karnad is displaying the complexity of the situation of Indian subjects and their need to find harmony in disharmony.

Both plays, 'Naga-Mandala' and 'Hayavadana' extensively employs irony to highlight the illusion and disillusionment, rift between the right and wrong, passion and desire, and the oppressive and social conditioning of Indian subjects, especially women. By the end of the play, audience is neither able to purge their feelings nor retaliate the playwright's message, such is the artistry of Karnad.

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u knw wht i love abt our thread? the u's i use in Kinzu always appear in the same numbr!!!😆

bushra

Why Post-Colonial writers use mythology in their plays, and what is the significance of the myth used. Discuss with textual examples.

"The real function of literature in human affairs is to continue myths"

- Vincent B. Leitch

To say that mythology is an integral part, of Nagamandala and Hayavadna, would be wrong. Mythology is the base, is the belief, and is the root on which these plays are built, established and sprouted. The very titles of these plays are inspired from mythology. Hayavadana means a man with a horse head, and Naga-Mandala is a night long ritual performed in the reverence to the Nag Deo. This ritual depicts the divine union of the male and the female serpent. 'Mandala' is a colorful design of that ritual, painted on the sacred ground of the temple, around which the worshippers dance.

During the 1970s the playwrights were acutely aware of their own rich and glorified tradition, and they returned to that tradition in the quest for self-being. The imperial rule had shattered the identity of the colonized; it took away the basic and necessary tool of the community, which is their language, disabling them from voicing their opinions. The colonized in struggle to cope-up with the invaders not only left their language but their cultural, their education, their tradition, their social norms and their administrative and military systems; and in doing so the religious beliefs, either knowingly or unknowingly, become subjected to the invading crisis. The writers, then after gaining independence, dug the history and myth which was buried by the oppressive colonized age, and brought it out to be presented on stage. This was the part of the process of de-colonization, where the writers re-established the shattered identity which is: the collage of an interrelating religion, cultural, tradition, way of life and language.

The re-telling of the myth is very important, a story is created so that it spreads and gives its message to everyone. The Indian cultural bases much of its stories on its religion. Even the 'Story' in the prologue of Naga-mandala says, "You just can't listen to a story and leave it at that. You must tell it again to someone else". This explains how the oral literature survives, and also why could the post-colonial writers use the ancient stories.

Bharata Muni's an Indian musicologist of 200BC said that the theatre is of divine origin having an intricate interweaving of all the three worlds - the celestial, the terrestrial, and the infernal - the supernatural, the human, and the subhuman. The play 'Naga-Mandala' also has the presence of all these elements. Thus the staging of the ancient myth glorifies the divine origin, the myth and the stage. The myth re-told, revives the Indian drama and helps the audience to take pride in the cultural that belonged to them, and gets them re-introduced to the life they once lived. The people start to value their own cultural instead of grasping a foreign language. Their ideas get re-developed and restored. The writers combine their stories with the theatrical techniques of the colonizers. This way, the writers appraise the colonizers for their techniques, and also promote their own culture through it.

To separate the Indian myth from its religion is nearly impossible. The myth, the legend and the folklore is used by the writer to weave all the frames in his story. We see Rani escaping into her imagination where an eagle, a whale and a deer come and rescue her in the real world. This escapist technique used by Rani draws the general picture of the sub-continental women - who are so severely oppressed, that the only freedom they get is in their minds. The gods are known to rescue their devotees, and in Naga-mandala, we see the King Cobra, an Indian deity, soothing the troubled Rani, not because she is devoted to him but because she pours a bubbling love potion in his ant-hill, which made it effects on that deity. The way Naga rescued Rani from her misery is based on immorality, although it does gives Rani everything a woman of her village would desire, but the iniquity is there and the that Cobra was under the influence of the love roots. There would have been other ways of rescuing Rani's life. The cobra could have made Appanna fall in love with Rani, or he could have helped Rani get back to her parents, but he doesn't do it. One can say that gods have limited powers, but does limited powers allows them to have immoral values? Limited powers make humans susceptible to sin, if this functions in to gods too, then are they really gods? A marriage between a snake and a girl is practiced among some sects in South India, it is so ironic because then in the real life case, an Appanna has to come and rescue the Rani, from the dangerous Nag she has to live with, and impregnate her.

The Cobra coming in Rani's life also signifies that it is not the human that fulfills the desire of another human, but a god. Giving importance to gods, however, the absolute fulfillment of desires by the gods is distinctly questioned in Hayavadana. Where Padmini, while praising Kali says that, "the past and the future are mere specks in your palm" if this is true then how can the goddess not know that she is giving life to bodies with transported head, or was she too sleepy as to not see these 'mere specks' which would have shown her that Devetta and Kapila were to eventually kill each other. Thus Padmini does not get to live in the place called 'happily ever after', where Rani ends up. Padmini presents the picture of un-fulfilled desires, and Hayavadana too doesn't get what he wanted from the goddess, as instead of becoming a complete man, he became a complete horse. Either the goddess is imperfect or she does not bother about what she does.

In his interview, Karnad explained why he uses myth and history, he says "I write about what excites me [and] I want to share that excitement with the audience." He sees India as a land of a "thousand myths" where myths are being constantly written and rewritten. This excitement, and the desire to share it with the audience, continues to drive Karnad all these years after he wrote his first play as a 22-year-old. In another interview he said,

"I cannot invent plots therefore I use myths. I cannot invent stories and hence go to history."

However, Karnad use of mythology in his plays not to glorify the myth, but to illuminate the contemporary issues. He tackles the current crisis, identity dilemma and existential crisis by re-inventing the old myths of India, since the natives can connect with them, and in the re-intervention he adds the western psychological complexities and European dramatic art, so the audience can ponder over what they have seen or read. Just like Bertolt Brecht, Karnad makes the audience respond intellectually rather than emotionally, and this is what makes Karnad's plays unique in the post-colonial literature. Dattai, a contemporary of Girish, gives an example of an issue portrayed by him, he says, "In (Karnad's) hands, it is not just a charming folk tale. It becomes a statement on the condition of women in our society."

Karnad's uses the myths, folklore and tradition, in his plays, to purge the socio-cultural evils. His drama puts a question on the myth used, he himself says, "The energy of folk theatre comes from the fact that although it seems to uphold traditional values, it also has the means of questioning those values, of making them literally stand on their head.', an example of it is the ordeal in which Rani has to prove her innocence. The ordeals of such nature originated when Sita walked on burning coals to prove her chastity. The village where Rani lives has the tradition of taking an oath by holding a red-hot iron, or if the accused chooses he can take the oath by dipping his hand in boiling oil. The minds of the natives are so marred by the mythical stories they hear, that the logic of flesh burning by fire dissolves when a fire ordeal is to be held. The accused, innocent or not, will get burned and will get punished.

Karnad also puts a question on gods. Rani chooses the snake ordeal to prove her innocence, where she will swear by the King Cobra, an Indian deity, while holding him in her hand. Rani may be innocent, if she didn't knowingly slept with a snake, but the reason she was brought to the Village elders was for the justification of the truth; the truth about the child she conceived since her husband didn't touch her. So when the reverend snake doesn't bites her, the question raises of the justification of the truth. The child in Rani's womb is an illegitimate one, so is the god justified by not revealing the truth about his and Rani's immortality, in the very trial where the immortality was to be justified? This trial mocks at the perceived notions of it, as in the test of Rani's chastity, the trail defeats the purpose for which it was devised in the first place and only ludicrousness of Rani being a goddess, and not truth prevails. The trial also questions the patriarchal system, as Appanna has to submit to his wife because of an irrational reason. Appanna knows that the child is not his, but once again, his logic is over-ruled by myth. By putting a question on the patriarchal system, the tradition and the very god, the play is equitable in being called the post-colonial play of a modern writer.

Post-Colonial Literature reflects at the modern age by using the light of old mythology and folklore, thus illuminating the customs, attitudes, religion, and legends. It affirms the identity of the colonized and gives a realistic picture which will make the native ponder over it or also make him take pride in his being. The colonized then breaths the free air, establishes his identity and tells the imperial rule that: Everything has a value itself, we have a value and we don't need a model, thank you.