Those were the days of the Indo-China war. In school, the anniversary was scheduled as usual, giving enough time for students to prepare for various competitions. Our school had around 2000 students and getting a first or second prize was not easy. Consolation prizes were unheard of. There was no vested interests or foul play on the part of teachers in selecting the best talents.
The competitions were based on the war and students had a great opportunity to enthrall the audience with their nationalist fervour.
Our forte was drama and four or five of us had earlier huddled together to select a play from the vast expanse of books in our local library. Even after weeks of discussions, we could not reach a consensus. Luckily, we found that the librarian had devoted much of his time towards acting. He was also a professional make-up artist. It was he who suggested that we take up the play Chithariya Chillukal (Broken pieces of glass) for the anniversary.
Dramas had a great influence on the people of our locality as it was the peak of the Malayalam theatre movement. Oachira Parabrahmodayam Nadana Sabha, KPAC and Peoples’ Theaters were the torch bearers of this great art form in central Travancore. For decades, the school ground was the venue for many of their performances and our lives were filled with dance and drama.
Chithariya Chillukal’s story line was simple.
A young soldier gets killed in action. He had left to the war-front soon after marriage, leaving the bride and the parents in agony. As the tempo builds up, the postman arrives with the message of his martyrdom. The father of the soldier, a veteran himself, holds the piece of paper and requests the audience not to grieve over this news.
“No, never. My child was a valiant soldier, he will not like a sad farewell. Salute him,” the old man pleads with folded hands. Meanwhile, the woman who had been standing still all this while, gently moves towards the wall and looks at a photograph of the soldier in uniform.
She holds it in her trembling hands and bows down to kiss the beloved, while uttering inaudible words. She then swoons to the floor clutching the photo tightly. But, it breaks into pieces as she falls down. The curtain falls to Vande Matharam.
The audience was overwhelmed. That gave us courage to venture on to the stage in our later years.
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