The creators of the dance theatre production, the Delhi-based Keelaka Dance Company, have called it Sakhi, after the Sanskrit word for woman friend. And with that small yet companionable word, they have yoked together two different stories, two different worlds and, of course, two different woman characters.
“We imagined a conversation between Sita and Draupadi,” says Jyotsna Shourie, who founded Keelaka. For this particular production, she has collaborated with her student Aneesha Grover.
The template of the “dance theatre” is Bharatnatyam. And though Calcutta is yet to host a performance of Sakhi, the video clip shared by Aneesha affords a glimpse into the opening of the production.
Orange and yellow curtains billow and the lighting is arranged to achieve the effect of fire. The whole stage seems ablaze and out of the fire emerge two women. “The fire is supposed to be a metaphor for the society that moulds the women and makes them who they become,” says Aneesha.
Jyotsna tells The Telegraph, “Eleven years ago, I had put up a show along the same lines. But it was just a dance recital, nothing else.”
Sita was born in the treta yug, while Draupadi was born in the dwapar yug. One was born of earth and the other from fire. Draupadi was all rage and power, while Sita embodied calm. The performances by Aneesha and Nandita Kalaan, who play Sita and Draupadi respectively, bring out these dominant characteristics.
Both women were grievously let down by their dearest, nearest and most trusted. If Sita were indeed to find an ally in Draupadi, how would they together relive their foregone destinies — that is the question Sakhi probes.
How would Sita recount the experience of her abduction to Lanka? What would she have to say about the agni pariksha? Would Draupadi not console her, comfort her? Likewise, it is entirely plausible that Sita would offer Draupadi a shoulder to lean on, and a compassionate ear post the vastraharan.
The game of dice leading to Draupadi’s vastraharan becomes a pivotal point for her character. Nandita says, “It is a challenging scene because I have to dance and also deliver my dialogues.” The scene brings out the warrior in Draupadi. She invokes the divine and breaks into a dance that gives expression to her devastation and outrage.
Jyotsna says, “If it were Sita in Draupadi’s place, there is a possibility she would not have reacted with such aggression and anger. Sita comes from an earlier time.”
“Typical Bharatnatyam productions would have, if at all, bol and traditional music,” says Jyotsna. “But not Sakhi,” she adds. Sakhi is peppered with dialogues in colloquial English, with a fusion of Carnatic music and electronic pop playing in the background.
In the dance theatre, Sita and Draupadi not only comfort each other when in pain, they also come together in times of celebration. So there is the court scene from the time Sita weds Ram; in the production, Draupadi selects a sari for her. And at the time of Draupadi’s swayamvar, Aneesha’s Sita secretly attends the ritual meet and passes judgment upon judgment on her friend’s suitors. Nandita says, “These stories were written by men. We wanted to bring the female perspective.”
Just because the thrust of the dance theatre is the kindredness between the two women, it doesn’t mean that the cast is shorn of male characters. Sagar Vashist, an actor and a dancer trained in Mayurbhanj Chhau, plays Duryodhan as well as Ravan in Sakhi. He says, “I portray Duryodhan as someone repulsive. His character breaks out into jarring movements that express his lust and evil.” But when it comes to Ravan, the dominant aura that Sagar tries to portray is ahankar or pride. “Ravan is not young or brash like Duryodhan. He moves with maturity, deliberation and intelligence,” he says.
Jyotsna says, “Sakhi is a living thing. It changes with every performance.” Aneesha adds, “Our epics are an integral part of society, but modern women cannot relate to the Sita and Draupadi we know of. We wanted to tell their stories in a way everyone can connect with.”