If a feminist interpretation is what Vasanth Kannabiran aimed to achieve through Menaka, then the writer of the dance ballet has succeeded in lending a new dimension to the mythological story about the eponymous celestial nymph. Penned in English, this stage production questions the very purpose and essence of the plots, their implied degradation and devaluation of women and the dangers of revering them through the generations — unquestioningly.
The recent endeavour of Asmita — a pioneering resource centre for women based in Hyderabad — has received accolades whenever and wherever it is performed. And it has been getting many a stage for Menaka, after having successfully come out with Kuchipudi dance ballets (in Telugu) like War and Peace and Lakshmana Rekha.
This is a welcome change in Andhra Pradesh, where feminism has largely found its artistic expression through literature. Now, the repertoire has widened to performing arts. “Menaka is a character who has always intrigued me,” says Kannabiran. “The legend of the danseuse who seduces sage Vishwamitra at Indra’s bidding and disappears into the heavens after leaving her child in the forest beckoned me. It tempted me with her immense possibilities…. Menaka’s story is a powerful indictment of a tradition of violence.”
The theme of the work itself shows a clear deviation from the traditional concept of dance as a bhakti-filled offering to God.
Menaka is rejected by Vishwamitra; her daughter Shakuntala is seduced by king
Dushyanta, only to be deserted later. When her son Bharata has no heir (his sons were killed because they were evil), he is given Bharadwaja, who is born of Brihaspati’s forced union with Mamata. The lineage is thus one stained by bloodshed. Dubbed as “wronged”, the three women muster the will to end all brutality and bring peace to mankind.
The writer believes this kind of violence continues through generations, making women easy target. Even in Indian mythology,
Menaka’s is not a stray incident. The ‘seductress’ role played by her fellow dancers like Urvasi, Rambha or Tilottama is seldom voluntary. “They are pawns in the game for power played by men — both celestial and human,” the 70-year-old Kannabiran notes.
As Menaka in the ballet says, “I was no seductress seeking to distract men and gods from their intellectual and spiritual pursuits…but I was the test he failed…and he punished me as men are wont to discipline women…he planted his seed in me, in violence and contempt…it was an attempt to destroy and vitiate my art, my body, my virtuosity of moment…”
While Menaka represents the violence meted out to celestial woman, her daughter Shakuntala is the prototype of deserted woman. As the Sutradhari comments, it was
Dushyanta’s need for an heir that revived his memory of wedding Shakuntala — not genuine love. Also, the ballet comes out with a rarely seen character from the Mahabharata:
Mamata. She was violated by her brother-in-law, Brihaspati, a great sage. And it was the son born out of this forced union, Bharadwaja (who was renamed Vitatha by Bharata) who ruled the country. In the ultimate analysis, it’s “a pedigree of breeched passion, promise and pain” that started ruling our country.
Interestingly, Menaka is not just a character, but also a commentator, an audience and the author — all rolled into one. The ballet alternately uses music and narration. The provoking text, rendered by Sagari Ramdas and
Kalpana Kannabiran, is very contemporary and brings out the essence of the story. The music by renowned mridangist Karaikudi Mani and flautist B V Balasai has an ethnic quality laced with powerful innovations — one that helps the production get the right mixture of melody and aggression. In fact, the music alone sets the mood of each sequence.
The choreography by classical dancer Rajeswari Sainath, who also plays the central role of Menaka, comes best in certain sequences — like the entry of Shakuntala. The creativity of the movements stems from the aesthetics of Bharatanatyam. The text has English lyrics interspersed with Sanskrit shlokas that are rendered in the Carnatic music idiom.
Yet the very ethos of the work is contemporary, where the content doesn’t dominate the form — thanks to their smooth interplay.
— The writer is an art critic and author-translator based in Hyderabad. mrunalini8@gmail.com