From the Delhi premiere of Belly of the Beast Neville Sukhia
Delhi

Kalki Koechlin on adapting The Elephant in the Womb and the many beasts of motherhood

Actor-writer Kalki Koechlin and theatre director Sheena Khalid discuss adapting Koechlin's graphic novel The Elephant in the Womb into Belly of the Beast, a theatrical exploration of motherhood that premiered in Delhi recently

Adithi Reena Ajith

When Kalki Koechlin published The Elephant in the Womb (Penguin) in 2021, she challenged the glossy narratives surrounding pregnancy and motherhood. Through the graphic novel, she reflected on the physical, emotional and psychological realities of becoming a mother—not an experience of unicorns and rainbows.

Five years later, the book has found a new life on stage. Belly of the Beast, co-written by Koechlin and director Sheena Khalid, follows five women through different stages of motherhood who transform into mythical creatures—a dragon, a unicorn, a spider demon, a vampire and a werewolf—to express emotions that realist depictions perhaps do not allow. Presented by Aadyam Theatre, it features shadow puppetry by Anurupa Roy, live music by Guy Hershberg, and a cast including Koechlin, Kettan Singh, Amba-Suhasini K. Jhala, Rachel D’Souza, Shanaya Rafaat and Shruti Vyas. The play premiered in Delhi last week.

(L-R) Actor-writer Kalki Koechlin and theatre director Sheena Khalid

Excerpts from a conversation with Koechlin and Khalid:

Why was it important for you to write against the idealised image of pregnancy and motherhood?

Kalki Koechlin (KK): The Elephant in the Womb came out of shock and frustration at how little I knew of the challenges of motherhood. I had read all the books on preparing for labour and raising a child, but what I didn’t realise was the psychological landscape that a mother goes through—the transformation, the lack of support, and the loss of identity of who she was before and who she is going to become. Those were the things I wanted to write about. It was also the pandemic. I was not working and being just a full-time mother, so writing this book became cathartic in many ways.

Why did you choose the graphic novel format to tell this story? And when adapting it for the stage, what aspects of the original work were you determined to preserve?

KK: The seed of the book began with a poster I made where I drew the three trimesters and all the different feelings and physical changes I went through. I always found it very visual, and almost mythical because that’s how the experience feels. When we adapted it for the stage, we wanted to preserve that sense of magic realism—the transformation of something bigger than you growing inside you. That’s why we chose shadow puppetry.

Mothers spend much of their postpartum time awake at night, and shadows can make the mind wander into dark places when you’re underslept, tired and exhausted, so it felt like the right language for this story. The book only explored my own experience; through the play we could tell the stories of many different mothers through the five women.

(L–R) Rachel D’Souza, Kalki Koechlin, Amba-Suhasini K. Jhala, Shanaya Rafaat, Shruti Vyas, and Kettan Singh on stage during the performance of Belly of the Beast

Sheena, what first drew you to The Elephant in the Womb? What convinced you that it belonged on stage?

Sheena Khalid (SK): When Kalki first suggested using the book as a starting point for a show, I was very excited. Stories of mothers and their struggles, hardships and joys were something I was very keen to explore. It was such a visual text that it was exciting and challenging to see how it could be transferred into another medium.

A graphic novel already tells its story visually. What were the biggest challenges and opportunities in translating those illustrations into live theatre?

SK: I was very keen to collaborate with Anurupa Roy of Katkatha Puppetry. Her work and ideas are so exciting that using shadow puppetry felt like a no-brainer. The biggest challenge was that while the novel is Kalki’s story, for the play we wanted to tell as many stories as possible. Doing justice to all those different journeys was the challenge.

The title Belly of the Beast is striking. What does the beast represent?

KK: We call it Belly of the Beast because it feels like being in the middle of a storm and surviving it. The beast is anything that is unknown. We often vilify the beast because we don’t understand it. Our attempt is to understand the beast, because that’s how you can harness it rather than let it devour you.

SK: Power, rage, and most importantly, love — that’s what our beasts carry with them in all their complex and messy forms.

Kalki, so you’re performing in a story you’ve written and adapted. Does acting in it make you more vulnerable than writing it?

KK: Actually, the acting part is the fun part. I really enjoy performing. The problem is that the writer can’t switch off. After every performance I’m thinking, “This could be clearer,” or “Maybe I should change that.” That’s the beauty of theatre—the show keeps evolving. I also find revisiting these experiences healing rather than traumatic. It’s helpful for me to look back, understand them, acknowledge them and put them out there.

Pregnancy transforms not just the body but identity, relationships and the self. Transformation seems to be the emotional heart of this play. What did you want audiences to recognise in that journey?

KK: We’ve all been through this in some form or another. Even if we’re not mothers, we’ve all been in the womb of a mother, and that’s a unifying experience. When you become a mother, you become curious about who your own mother was and who your grandmother was. You start asking those questions because you realise how integral they are to who you are. We wanted audiences to awaken that curiosity about what they carry inside them from generations before.

Many stories about motherhood focus on sacrifice or joy. Why did you keep these at the core of the play?

KK: This expectation that mothers are supposed to sacrifice or just be eternally happy is false. There are times when you feel helpless, trapped, exhausted and full of rage. In order to really find pleasure in motherhood, you have to acknowledge those difficult parts. Society doesn’t reward or acknowledge mothers in that way, and we wanted to talk about that honestly.

SK: For me, theatre is unique because it can change space and time and challenge our preconceived notions. That’s why my work almost always combines realism and magic.

What was it like adapting a work with its original author in the room?

SK: Working with Kalki has been such a treat. She has an incredible mind as a performer and writer. We also have a great cast who have been willing to push themselves, and so much of what audiences see has been created and devised by the actors. Theatre is such a collaborative experience, and magic can only happen when you work with others.  

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