Abstract
Thrice alienated, Dalit women face a triple burden of caste, class and gender. The subaltern women belonging to Dalit communities in Kolhapur, Maharashtra is the focus of my paper. I have conducted in-depth interviews of the women I have met; and carefully documented their lives over a period of years. In due course of time, I realized that there are kalavanteen women (artistes of various folk-art forms) who are struggling to leave behind a tainted life and seize the opportunity to live a life of dignity. These are women who are involved in the performing arts, including singing, dancing and acting; Lavani, Tamasha and Jalsas. Such women who performed and entertained were available for sexual pleasures, but rarely married. They were rarely considered honourable women. Now when the image is that of a performing woman, she too will be consumed with greedy/hungry eyes. Her body parts too, are exposed to male glances, she has to attract them, as such, she cannot be expected to be chaste. However, in Kolhapur today, these kalavanteen, women have challenged their Dalitness; contested their being downtrodden; and finally derived a sense of agency from their being Dalit, their being downtrodden. I felt that it is highly significant to trace the manner in which they have attacked the systemic degradation that has eroded their lives for decades and tried to bring a sense of dignity.
Patriarchy, conceptualizes Evangeline Anderson Rajkumar (2010, p. 20), unfolds its influence on the social body of the community as well as on the female body and a Dalit body. Regarding the body politic MorCoorilos (2010, p. 172) says that whereas
body is generally despised and condemned in the Vedic traditions, bodies of people belonging to certain castes and sections are loathed even more. … Exploitation of the body has always been a powerful tool in the hands of fascists everywhere… One can see the same ideology of the hatred of the body of the ‘other’ in the rape of women from minority, Dalit and tribal communities.
Presently, Dalit women in Kolhapur, especially kalavanteen women artists who perform Tamasha and Lavani and various other folk-arts have skilfully used this very tool (i.e. the body) that is used to exploit them in deriving a sense of power and authority and in turn dignity and agency in their lives. For the women artists, their body is a tool that they can use to empower themselves and earn their livelihood. My article looks at the Dalit women engaged in pursuing various forms of Maharashtrian folk-arts—Lavani, Tamasha and Kalapathak—as pursued by the two organizations—The Kalapathak Kalakaar Sangathana and the Loknatya Tamasha Mandal that comprises of women who are trying to make ends meet working as Lavani dancers and Tamasha artistes.
My journey began in the year 2009 with my meeting a Dalit family at Bishop’s College, Kolkata, West Bengal. Sachin Lokhande had come to Kolkata with his wife Leah and three children to study theology. It was through the eyes of this humble family that the world inhabited by the Dalits was slowly, but surely revealed to me and it was he who introduced me to Kolhapur—his hometown. I chose the district of Kolhapur in particular as it had a vibrant history of anti-caste struggles that dates back to the 1900s. The Kolhapur state had in 1895 appointed Rakhmabai Kelavkaras as the first ever woman education officer. In the backdrop of such positive gains for the Dalits in Kolhapur, I felt it was significant to explore the real conditions of the Dalit women of Kolhapur in contemporary times. Therefore, I was keen to explore the current status of the Dalit women in Maharashtra. Secondly, the district of Kolhapur is caught somewhere along the tradition–modernity divide—on the one hand it is not a cosmopolitan like Mumbai and Pune, it still retains some of the ancient Marathi aura in diverse fields—which makes it an interesting place to study. Yet modernizing with every passing day, it is sporting a Western look in its upcoming urban areas with all the latest brands moving in. Therefore, I was looking for such a district which though on the edge of modernity yet retained her timelessness—and Kolhapur neatly fitted my description. Thirdly, even today, Kolhapur contributes a lot in the field of Dalit literature, folklore, culture, drama and theatre. The Tamashas, Lavanis, Powadas, Kalapathaks, Jalsas and Jatras are not only harbingers of a rich past, but very effective means of social communication too. This dimension needed exploration too.
The Art
The word tamasha is of Persian/Urdu origin. It means ‘anand, khel, hansi-mazaak, dikhaava’ translated as ‘happiness, games, laughter-fun and show’.
According to Dr. Prabhakar Mande, it is known by a different name in Nagpur, Akola and Amaravati districts of Maharashtra. There, this form of entertainment is commonly referred to as ‘gammat’ or ‘khadigammat’ (MorCoorilos, 2010, pp. 4–5). There are a total of nine artists in the ‘khadigammat’ form of Tamasha. The main artist is the shahir or ballad writer. He plays on a musical instrument called the duff. This form of entertainment consists of a question–answer session by two shahirs. This is popularly called ‘duyyam’. If the answers are witty and humorous, the audience seem to enjoy them and ask for more of it (Gyaneshwra, 2006, p. 147).
According to Namdev Whatkar, in his famous book, ‘Tamasha’, tamasha owes its origin to various forms of cultural art forms; the ‘dhol’ emerged from a mixture of the monkey-performers drum and the nandiwaalas style of showing plays. The ‘gondhari’ people used to sing ‘gondhar’ during weddings. From the ‘fhouji’ people, the tapha was learnt. From the ‘bharud’ the art of speaking in style evolved. From the ‘waghyamurli’ came the style of manipulating the voice. Then developed the practice of narrating tales of kings and queens together with ‘wagh’ or short stories. The ‘gondhari’ people were the first to earn a living by singing and dancing. There was a time when the madari or kolharni used to dance to the beats of the ‘dholak’, jhanj and the tuntuna. It was an ancient ‘banjara’ style. These people used to set up their camps outside the villages. The menfolk used to show their acrobats with the monkeys, and the women folk used to sing and dance in accompaniment. On completion, they used to load their donkeys with their goods and leave travelling throughout the districts. Some people link the origins of tamasha to the colourful festival of Holi. In some villages of Maharashtra, even today, people burn the ‘holika’ and begin the tamasha performances with much pomp and show.
Thus tamasha was influenced by ‘lokrangbhumi’ and ‘lokparampara’, since time immemorial, that is, folk-arts and folk-culture and tradition. Gradually, mythology came to play an important role in the composition of these songs and dances. Tales of Radha and Krishna’s leela (love) the union of a man and his lover, ‘sattwik’ love, the role of ‘shringaar’ (make-up), ‘virah’ (separation) and its pains, reunison were some of the popular themes in these love-separation oriented songs and plays. In the north ‘peshwai’, shahirs used to do the work of building up entertaining acts and ‘rangbhumi’ by writing witty and fascinating dialogues and ballads.
The tamasha that we find today is a curious melting pot of various forms of art and culture that traces its roots to ancient Maharashtra (Gyaneshwra, 2006, pp. 30–32). The following features are intrinsic to the modern day tamasha in Maharashtra:-
Gan or the prayer of Lord Ganesh. Gaauran ballet consisting of a girl and a boy enacting as the love-lorn couple Radha and Krishna, some others enacting the roles of the friends of Radha and Krishna along with a typical character called ‘maavashibai’ (an aunt, she generally is a man, who speaks as a woman). Lavani dance performances by the dancing girls. Bhedik-Kavan or the question–answer sessions (Sawaal–jawaab). Mujraa or the farewell session.
Towards the end of the seventeenth century, the Mughal Emperor Aurangazeb began his Deccan campaign to pursue the Marathas. It was at this point of time that Maharashtra got introduced to a different culture within the military camps. To provide the soldiers with cheap entertainment, the Mughals kept bands of courtesans. Since the common soldiers could not afford these dancing girls, they had to look for such talent among the locally available artists. The forms of entertainment could never match the far superior talent and taste of the Mughals. So, there was only one alternative open to them; they decided to lure the lower castes and some tribesmen into the profession of dancing. Among the lower castes, a wandering tribe named the Kolhatis did have some proficiency. In fact, these women catered to the needs of the Maharashtrian males even before the coming of the Mughals. Their temporarily erected huts were a common feature during village fairs. Some of these women entered the profession of dancing as per the requirement of the cantonment.
Since the time of Nanasaheb Peshwa, the tamasha started incorporating the dance form of Lavani. The word Lavani derived from Lavanya, meaning beauty. This form is a combination of dance and music, which dealt with different and varied topics such as society, religion, politics, romance, etc. Marathi poets like Honaji Bala, Ramjoshi, Prabhakar, etc. took Lavani to new heights. In recent times, Lavani has become passé, mainly confined to sensual entertainment often presented in a stereotyped and cheap form in Marathi films.
Peshwas like Sawai Madhav Rao and Bajirao II gave patronage to the shahirs or ballad-composers and encouraged them to compose Lavanis. Earlier, the Lavanis were presented only within the framework of the tamasha; gradually, things changed. The kalawanteen started getting attracted to the Lavanis and started singing and dancing them. Thus, the Lavanis appeared to have established a connection between the women dancers of the Court and tamasha, the form of entertainment of the commoners.
The Artist
In the course of an intensive field-research in Kolhapur, I met many kalavanteen artistes and over the years, they had no hesitation in bonding with me, an outsider. I was interested in knowing about them-their daily struggles and tales of survival; it was a part of my Doctoral work. Their behaviour as well as their struggle against all odds to live a life of dignity inspires my respect and admiration for them. Most importantly, they were struggling to protect themselves and their age-old dying folk-art. The women performers I met and interviewed were: Babita Kakde of Mahalaxmi Productions, Shobha and Sandhya Davale of Loknatya Tamasha Mandal, Kolhapur.
Loknatya Tamasha Mandal, Kolhapur
‘Itne din baad humko yaad kiya…’ translated as, ‘Remembered us after so many days…’ smiled Sandhya Davale, warmly as I entered their home in House No. 1308, E-Ward of Rajashri Shahu Vasahat, on my second trip to Kolhapur. Sandhya Shankar Davale and Shobha Davale were the co-producers of ‘Loknatya Tamasha Mandal’, Rajarshi Shahu Vasahat, Main Road, Yadavnagar, Kolhapur.
The ‘Loknatya Tamasha Mandal’, Kolhapur is a Tamasha Organizational Unit that is headed by Smt. Sandhya Shankar Davale and her husband Shri. Shankar Davale. Located at Rajarshi Shahu Vasahat, Yadavnagar Main Road, E-Ward, Number 1307, Kolhapur, the Tamasha Unit is quite popular among the low castes. Basically, the lady who is in charge herself is a woman of a very low caste, the Kolhateen caste. In Maharashtra, generally speaking, women of such singing and dancing castes are looked down upon and are considered to be of loose character. Born in the year 1968, in a poor dancing family of Kolhapur, Sandhya Davale studied till the seventh standard only. A heavily built lady, she was very out-spoken and articulate. Though she did not have children of her own, she had adopted a boy and named him Vaibhav. Her production unit was called ‘Gayatri Sandhya Kolhapurkar’. Together with her husband, they were the recipients of many awards. In the year 2010, Shri. Shankar Davale received the ‘Dr. Babasaheb Ambedkar Fellowship Samman—2010’ from the Bharatiya Dalit Sahitya Academy, Delhi while Sandhyaji herself had received the ‘Virangana Savitribai Phule Fellowship Samman—2010’. The Tamasha Unit organized Tamashas in and around Kolhapur.
Objectives
Established in the year 2001, the Unit had a twofold objective, firstly, lokranjan, that is entertainment and secondly, lokshikshan, that is social education. Two of the most important topics on which people were educated dealt with dowry and anti-alcoholism. The women are beaten by their husbands after consumption of liquor; following which there is a demand for dowry from these poor women and their families, which of course, they are unable to provide. In these Tamashas, men are taught about such social evils and the harm that it casts on the family.
Programmes
The Tamasha Programmes are limited to just a few months of the year, said Sandhya ji. The winter months of November–January and the rainy season were the periods in which they suffered a lot, due to the absence of shows. The main Tamasha season is usually from January to April. During this time period, an artist bags a contract for a sum of a thousand to four thousand rupees. If the artist is female, young and good-looking, she may bag five hundred more. Outside this time period, if a show has to be organized, an artist has to be paid a daily wage of around 100–150 rupees. That is why the producers aren’t so keen on organizing shows during ‘off-season’. Moreover, a lot of expenses like conveyance allowance and equipment cost have to be borne out by the producer herself/himself. However, tamashas do take place throughout the year in the district of Kolhapur and mainly in its outskirts—Kaagal, Gaargoti, Gadhinglaj, Aajra, Radhanagri, Jaysinghpur, Shiroli and Hathkanangale.
The Marathi month of Ashwin 1 is a significant one for the Loknatya Tamasha Mandal. This is the time when the mela (fair) of Mohtaadevi 2 takes place. The day before Dussehra, 3 all the artists accumulate at a town on the outskirts of Kolhapur. The artists are given dekaar, a form of donation. The villagers of the village where the Tamasha will take place usually give this donation. After that, the artists go to a nearby temple, take the blessings of the local Goddess and leave to make preparations for the performance. Right from the day of Dussehra till Akshaya Tritiya, 4 a contract is made with the unit and advance payments are made accordingly. Sometimes, the responsibility of organizing the Tamasha shows rest with the Panchayat of the village where the Tamasha is to be organized. In that case, the expenses are a lot lesser. This is because food expenses, police permission, stage setup, electricity and other knick-knacks are dealt with by the village Panchayat. When a particular village is planning to bag a contract with a Tamasha unit, certain things have to be borne in mind—such as the fame of the troupe, the number of artists involved, the theme of the vagh or the short story to be recited, the theme of the Tamasha and the nature of the actor who will be the bahrupia or the joker who takes on different roles to mimic. Other crucial facts are the name and fame of the main dancer, the musicians accompanying the dancers and so on. On the day of Ram Navami, 5 Hanuman Jayanti 6 and Akshaya Tritiya, the price value of the contract can be as high as ten thousand rupees.
Some other occasions when Tamasha programmes were held, were on the days of Hanuman Jayanti, Ram Navami, Chaitra Purnima 7 and such other festivals. Every year, the people demanded a novel form of ‘vagh’ at these Tamasha events. For example, in the district of Kolhapur and its outskirts, there were demands for Tamashas on patriotism and on issues such as the Kargil War, the hanging of Bhagat Singh and such popular themes; in the district of Pune, social issue-based themes were in vogue; the districts of Satara and Sangli adjoining Kolhapur appreciated Tamashas on historical events; and in the Konkan areas there was a demand for Tamashas related to old Kingship stories and their ministers.
Facing Challenges and Overcoming Them
A Dalit lady, belonging to the lowest of the low Kolhateen caste, Sandhya Davale had seen a lot of ups and downs in her life. In conversation with me, her emotions were giving way as she kept referring to the myriad troubles and grievances that plagued the lives of her and other Tamasha artistes like her. The upper caste men, and in general, all men, never ever allowed the women to go and see the tamashas, because foul language was used. However, these ladies performed solely to male audiences who jeered and enjoyed themselves at the show. The Dalit women producers feel that they are being used only for entertainment, like toys and dolls. I saw the van that was to take them to the Tamasha site (about 20–22 km away). It seemed like a pigeon cage or animal carrying partitioned van.
‘Ghar ki paristhithi ki wajah se bachpan se yeh dhandaa hai mera’, recollected Sandhya ji, when I demanded to know the reason for her being here. The financial condition of our house compelled me to take up this profession right from childhood… Though she had a smaller brother and was her parents’ only daughter, it was difficult to make ends meet. Failing to continue education beyond the seventh standard, she entered into the entertainment industry seeking an alternative there. When I asked her about her future plans and would she like to be engaged in any kind of gainful employment, she smiled and claimed that she had never heard of the word ‘service’… So, what service could a lady like her engage in?
‘Aaj kal ladki log tape lagaa ke khud dance karte hai, seekhne ka kuch nahi’, Sandhya ji mentioned when I wanted to know about the next generation of female dancers in their community. Young girls were acclimatized to the environment and they play on the tape recorder and simply begin dancing, she stated. There was nothing to teach them. Most importantly, skills in dancing were of absolutely no use to these Kolhateen ladies. All that they needed to do was entertain, and that they could easily accomplish with their bodies. When I asked her about her son and his education, there too her face clouded over with worry. An artist’s child does not get proper education, she replied. This was because as a mother, she had no time for her son. Not only that, she didn’t even have the money to provide for her son’s education. Her son too, instead of attending school wishes to roam with the Tamasha troupe; this indirectly hampers her son’s education. Nevertheless, though illiterate, her son has mastered a large part of the performances and seems to like them. Overall, life for an artist’s son or daughter is very difficult, she claimed. Ordinary people will find it difficult to comprehend the pain in their lives. How they live, what they eat, where do they go out to play—these are petty matters, nonetheless significant in the lives of these children. When it is time for a child to sleep, it is time for his mother to dress up for the show; when it is time for the child to wake up and get ready for school, it is time for his mother to take rest… this kind of an erratic lifestyle hampers the child’s upbringing and future. Most importantly, a large part of the women artists do not feel the need to educate their children—this results in the next generation too being illiterate.
‘Graahak aate hai, daaru peete hai, naach-gaana suntey hai, aur kya?’ described Sandhya ji, when I asked her to describe her current performances. Her latest performance was at Kaagal, just last week, where she along with a few other ladies would keep dancing in accompaniment with an orchestra. Men/customers would enter the large hall like room, sit at one side, drink as long as they wanted to, and enjoy the song/dance shows and performances. At the request of the audience, they would have to repeat a particular performance, show off their bodies seductively and ultimately mesmerize them.
‘Humko buri nazar se dekha jaata hai’ rued Sandhya ji, that is, women working in these communities are looked upon as prostitutes and derogatory women. The women working in the Tamasha are from the Dalit community. They have no future. Even the Government does not do anything for them. So, the condition of these women is very pitiable and deplorable. Even after enduring all kinds of hardships, their condition has not changed. Even if they acquire education, there is no use, as they will not get any work, and they will continue to be humiliated by menfolk. Then commenting on their lives during performances she mentioned that even during undressing, there was no respite from the eyes of men. The issue of privacy was totally absent; in fact some men would be wandering around the tents just to have a glimpse of these ladies undressing. In fact, the majority of people in our society consider the ladies working in Tamashas to be prostitutes, she continued. This is the reason why in some villages the female artists and even the lady producers like Sandhya ji, are insulted and harassed by the village goons. There are some men who have two wives—one is a ‘kept lady’ who works in a Tamasha and the other is his housewife. Often women are ditched and betrayed by their husbands—and these women ultimately make their way to the Tamasha stage.
‘Kala ki pehle jo keemat thi, who aaj nahi hai. Kalavant logo ki koi maandhan (stipend) nahi hota, koi shaasan ya anushaasan nahi hota’, mourned Sandhya ji. In other words, the value of folk-art forms like the Tamasha has gone down; artists do not get any stipend, there is no disciplinary system on the part of the Government to keep a track of their whereabouts. In the Tamasha, the people used to get money, but the kalakaar never used to get their value. Not only that, she continued to say that as an artist they may be getting accolades and praises for a particular performance, but as a human being, there was no value for their lives. There were places where on asking for water, people would treat them as untouchables and refuse to have any bodily contact with them. Our Tamasha is considered a shudra-kala, that is, an art form of the low castes, for the low castes and by the low castes, observed Sandhyaji sadly.
‘35 years tak hi koi Tamasha me kaam kar sakta hai. Uske baad unke naseeb me garibi hi hai. Isliye shaasan ke dwaara kuch to hona chahiye’, sighed Sandhya ji. The upper age limit for a female Tamasha artist was 35 years only. This was because, though there was no hard and fast rule, after attaining the age of 35, it was generally held that a woman’s attraction and beauty would begin to fade. Consequently, her customers and her audience would start to loose interest in her, and before she could save anything for her old age, she would be facing stark poverty; despite working so hard throughout her life. To top this, there were some practical problems that she had to deal with on a day-to-day basis. These included the increasing expenditure of equipment, high rise in prices of diesel, decrease in the audience, lack of any form of security—be it social security or old age security or security of their lives and honour and finally, the hassles associated with issues like provision of police permission in the villages where they perform. In other professions, people get perks, bonus, raises, etc. The artistes do not even dream of such luxuries, grieved Sandhya ji. A life spent in great distress, without pure drinking water, without two square meals a day, without a proper place to wash, bathe or even sleep would end in such poverty, she feared.
Babita Kakde—A Lavani Dancer and Member of Kalapathak Kalakaar Sangathana
Our next visit was to Babita Rajkumar Pandit (Kakde), a Lavani dancer as well as the producer of a Kalapathak show—Mahalaxmi Productions.
Off the main road, at Mangalvaar Peth, were many alleyways. One of them is Jassod Galli, where a modest looking house called Anandi Balwant Nivas is located. The resident of the house, Babita Kakde, was a middle-aged, kind-looking lady with a dignified aura about her. The producer of Mahalaxmi Productions—a well-known orchestra group of Kolhapur that staged Kalapathak shows too, and a Lavani dancer, Babitaji was born in Kolhapur in a modest family. Educated till the S.S.C level, Babitaji had entered this profession in a very unique manner. It so happened that while washing utensils at a person’s house (she used to work as a domestic help), she was humming and singing to herself. The lady of the house heard her singing and was impressed with it. She took her to a teacher and helped her financially in her training for music and dance. Gradually, she realized that her income from singing and dancing would be more than her income as a domestic help. And the rest, she smiles, is history.
Babitaji’s son and daughter were studying in Kolhapur itself. Offering us chairs to sit she asked her daughter to serve us water in the traditional Marathi style, in a lotaa, that is, a steel tumbler. Her room was adorned with posters of her Kalapathak and Orchestra production Unit. There were many awards and trophies that she had received as a Lavani dancer. Musical instruments of all sorts were on display throughout the small room.
Babita ji told us that the Kalapathak groups were not getting any funds from the Government. Her production unit comprised of 25 members, out of whom ten were women and the rest were male artistes. Usually, their Kalapathak began in the month of March and April, during the time of Chaitra-Pournima. There were around five to ten programmes in a month. She, being the producer of the show, it was her duty to pay the artistes after each show.
‘Kalakaar log aage ki sochtey nahi… ki aage kya hoga’, the artists do not think about the future, it seems as if they aren’t bothered as to what will happen to their next generation, she was anxious. Their careers would last only till the age of 35, at the most. After that, nobody seemed concerned, Babita ji felt. Moreover, after a certain age, it was really difficult for these women to make ends meet—when their youth, vitality and beauty would no longer exist, their audience too would gradually start declining and so would their popularity. But then, practical problems like a home to manage and children to feed were things that would never cease to exist.
Today, per show the female artists get around a thousand rupees, while the menfolk earn a meagre sum of three to five hundred. The artists take an advance from the producer, at times—the advance can be a huge sum, it can vary from fifty thousand to almost one lakh. Later on, as the show season commences, instead of being paid the full amount for each show, the producer pays the artists half of his/her due. This is because against each show the artists gets something less—this sum is deducted to cover up the loan that the artist had already taken as advance in the off-season. As a result, the artist gets less for each show that he/she performs. Again, during the next off-season, if the artist lands up in an economic crisis—again he/she has to approach the producer. Often, there are producers who exploit the illiterate artists and keep them in a perpetual debt trap.
As far as the future of the folk-art of Kalapathak was concerned, Babita ji expressed concern about it too. She felt that the new generation was no longer interested in these Kalapathak, so much was the Westernization process permeating into the society. These age-old forms of music and dance were suffering, according to her. So, Babita ji had devised a scheme—she had started giving ‘Lavani’ dance classes. It was a way of earning as well as a way of keeping alive her talents. Today, Babita ji had a total of 10 students who came to learn Lavani from her. When I went to meet her the next year, she was smiling and composed as usual—only a year had added a few more lines and wrinkles on her face and a few more shades of grey in her hair. Speaking about the fate of Lavani dance in Kolhapur and Maharashtra, she sadly told us that today Lavani has become far more distorted and far more erotic than before.
‘Aaj kal kalakaar ke naam se dhandaa hotaa hai’ Babitaji’e eyes had a sadness in them. Today, in the name of the artist, people are carrying on ‘business’. Our daughters go into it, they become ‘business’. What she actually meant was that the dancing profession had degraded into dirty businesses, in the form of ‘dancing bars’ and ‘sleazy discos’ at metropolises like Mumbai and Pune. But, the bright side of it all was that the Government was trying to revitalize the Lavani dance today. Lavani competitions were being organized at places like Mumbai, Nagpur, Pune, Goa, etc. Moreover, nowadays, the show organizers are making arrangements of keeping recordings of shows… which was a faraway dream previously. Thus, times are changing and with it, the style, nature, purpose and technique behind these folk-arts too were changing.
Conclusion
The Tamasha and kalapathak stage is a multi-faceted one. The stage is an arena where an audience is directly connected with an artist; unlike in a movie or television screen where there are retakes and the audience will not be able to contact the artist directly. In a stage performance, as in a Tamasha or a kalapathak, an artist has to work very hard to ensure the liveliness of the performances. Only when the audience and the performer are intimately connected in the entire process of ‘production of enjoyment’ can a performance attain true success. Dilip Chitre rightly asks a question about the future of the artist … he wants to know whether the future will witness the audience as a worshipper/admirer of folk-arts or as a customer of the female body. Here, I feel, the role of the ‘body’ of an actor is very significant. It is through her body that the Tamasha artist or Lavani dancer exercises control over the entire audience.
However, today, the stage is undergoing a change. A different version of the stage—which is much more colourful, vibrant and raunchy has gradually replaced the erstwhile stage. The songs and scripts are also being written with a more appealing touch—so that it appeals to the coming generation. Due to the influence of the West, new societal, cultural and moral values are beginning to be accepted. In fact, the new Tamasha learners began to look down upon the old forms of entertainment. They began to consider them as illiterate and downward. The entire concept of beauty began to undergo a vast transformation. In the eyes of the youth of today, the social value of Tamasha, its aesthetic beauty and its moral purpose has started declining.
The ladies who perform generally wear a Maharashtrian style saree which goes between the legs and wraps up to the knees. Not only is it provocative, but it is elusive at the same time. A woman artist may keep the audience on the edge of their seats with an elusive movement of their sarees and the design of their blouses. The beautiful kamar-patta, the mesmerizing jewellery and the scented flowers in their hair coupled with the heavy make-up is definitely a way in which these ladies feel empowered. They have the lever of control in their hands—the lady will hold the edge of her saree with one hand, tap her feet in a alluring manner, thrust her shoulders in the direction of the audience with a incendiary and confrontational look and inch forward towards the audience with a drag of the feet. At times, she will deliberately let the edge of her saree fall to her navel and then as if highly embarrassed place it properly.
Tamashas and Kalapathak are the life support system of the rural entertainment scenario. For this life support system to survive, the support of the common people is needed. The people have to realize that if they demand huge sound systems, ‘Bollywood-style’ numbers and dances, expensive lights, it will be difficult for the show organizers to make ends meet. Income under such circumstances will be less than the expenditure. Gradually, as has been happening, the organizers will fall into debt, will be unable to pay the artists and gradually the show will close down. The new generation of the Tamasha and Kalapathak artistes are unwilling to participate in these shows as their parents. They are not showing a keen interest in carrying on the tradition of their families. Education, modernization and Westernization are to a large extent responsible.
Tamashas and Kalapathak have always tried to keep up with the changing times. They have shown an ever-readiness to adapt to changes, to incorporate the ‘MacDonald, MTV and Macintosh’ culture. However, the future will only tell; whatever be the case, one thing is certain… village fairs, jatras, melas, will remain incomplete without the Tamashas and Kalapathak. It is true that the State Government of Maharashtra is organizing camps and seminars on Tamashas and Kalapathak and trying to educate the youth about their moral and aesthetic value. In western Maharashtra, particularly, Jalgaon, Pune, Kolhapur, Aurangabad, Sholapur and Mumbai, ‘Lavani’ competitions are being organized in a bid to create an interest among the new generation. Efforts are definitely on to rehabilitate the Tamasha and enliven the Kalapathak. It needs to be seen whether the future generation will have the time, money and energy to spend on these rural art-forms.
In recent years, however, apart from facing the problem of making ends meet, the tamasha artists are facing a new threat-a new virus, a new disease… that of HIV AIDS. ‘People like us on stage, but consider us as prostitutes away from it. The art form is going down day by day’, said a Tamasha artiste in Sandhya ji’s troupe.
Our ancestors were royal entertainers. The Marathas were our patrons but things have changed over the years. Less money, social discrimination and poor health of Tamasha artistes have cast a shadow of uncertainty on the future of the art; many of our members have turned to flesh trade because of money. I have seen many artistes with HIV. And sometimes, we starve because we have no money. Our dance and drama requires physical strength. We are often taken ill; we don’t get government support and authorities deny us even ration cards. Schools do not admit our children and ask for their father’s name.
My work has examined the activities of the Dalit women at the level of their daily life through their everyday acts. They have been victims of power politics at various levels—at the level of their caste, community and culture. The reins of power have always been in the hands of the organizers of the show. In fact, it was these actions, their performances over time that constituted their identities and that became a part of their relational communities.
Suma Chitnis (2002, p. 265) too feels that the oral and textual traditions of Maharashtra are highly articulate. They speak openly and directly about the situation of women, about their feelings, and about the conflicts and dilemmas they face. However, there is as much to learn from the unspoken and the unsaid as there is from what has been voiced. To be more precise, she has focused on minute details—for example, the signals emitted from the sounds of toe rings on the bare floor; the jingle of glass, gold and silver bangles on the wrist; the way the sari pallav is held or draped. Thus, apart from body language, the language of silence also has been interpreted to portray the lives of Dalit women.
As I conclude my work, it is important to write that Marathi folk songs, folklore, folk theatre, fasts, rituals and kathas as well as all the traditional media for the transmission and communication of values and culture remain a live tradition in Maharashtra. They keep evolving as dynamic elements of the culture, but even as they do so, they are continuous with a past that goes back many centuries. The lives of the women engaged in Tamasha, Lavani and other folk arts are riddled with difficulties… nevertheless, they are struggling to derive an agency for themselves… within their own means, they are managing to make ends meet… it is their undying spirit that needs recognition, that is a story worth telling, their inner strength is a secret worth unravelling.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.