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By Huned Contractor Theatre is more than dialogue, music, performance and production values, according to veteran playwright and director Ratan Thiyam. It is a medium to question society, war and violence
 For a man of peace, the most difficult thing to come to terms with would be living within a circle of violence. But Ratan Thiyam, one of India 's most respected playwrights and directors, has not only got used to the situation, he has worked his way around it. Almost all his plays are underlined by a personal desire to end mindless killings. In fact, Thiyam's opposition to bloodshed of any kind is so strong that, in July 2001, he returned the country's highest honour, the Padma Shri, in protest against the central government's announcement of an extension of Manipur's ceasefire with the Nationalist Socialist Council of Nagalim that fuelled anger among the people of Manipur and Nagaland, two states that have been at loggerheads since 1992.
"I am an artist, emotionally a very sensitive person. The decision to return the award was not an easy thing because it was the recognition of my contribution in a certain field. I cannot see anyone being harmed. But when I saw the level of violence in Imphal (the capital of Manipur, and Thiyam's hometown), I was so moved by the developments that my decision to return the award was spontaneous," he says. Born into an artistic family (his father was a guru of the Rasleela, a religious dance form, and his mother a noted dancer), Thiyam studied western theatre at India's National School of Drama in Delhi, before returning to Manipur and establishing the Chorus Repertory in 1976, to create contemporary plays. His company has featured in a number of major international festivals including the Avignon festival in France , the Mitsui festival in Japan and the Adelaide festival in Australia . More than a director, Thiyam is a trained artist in Manipuri dance, a painter and an expert in Hindustani music. He is also a recipient of the prestigious Sangeet Natak Akademi Award. To understand what makes Thiyam's works so unique, it is important to look back at the insurgency that has eaten into the socio-economic fabric of Manipur. The movement has its roots in the inter-ethnic strife that broke out between two tribes, the Nagas and the Kukis, in 1992. Since then, violence has spread across the region and more than 1,000 people have been killed. The topography of Manipur lends itself to the conflict. Nearly 90% of Manipur's landmass is hilly. The remaining 10% constitutes the Imphal valley, home to the Vaishnavite (Hindu) Meiteis who comprise more than 50% of the state's population and the Muslim Meitei-Pangals. The hills are exclusively reserved for the tribals -- mainly Nagas and Kukis. The state has a peculiar land tenure system, the Manipur Land Revenue and Land Reform Act, under which hill tribes are allowed to settle in the valley, but no Meitei or Meitei-Pangal is allowed to buy land or settle in the hills. The Meiteis are, moreover, classified as non-tribals and consequently denied benefits under various reverse discrimination provisions that create reservations in jobs and educational institutions for tribals. The primary conflict in the state involves various insurgent groups fighting against the government for sovereign or separate homelands. A multiplicity of secondary conflicts has arisen out of tensions between various ethnic and tribal sub-groups, often as a result of changes in patterns of land tenure and distribution. The conflict has led to widespread killings and the internal displacement of Kukis, Paites and Nagas. Additional tribal tensions have reinforced instability in the state. The Kukis and Paites have clashed since 1997, and friction persists between the Nagas and the Meiteis. Violence between these groups has reportedly left some 50,000 people homeless, as entire villages have been burnt to the ground. Militants have set granaries on fire, putting thousands of people at risk from malnutrition and starvation. More than 11,000 people now live in displacement camps, and the government of the neighbouring state of Mizoram has restricted the displaced from crossing over into its territory. This scenario explains Thiyam's penchant for using theatre as a means of finding solutions. "On a personal level," he elaborates, "theatre has been more than dialogue, music, performances and production values. It is a medium to ask questions like how should humankind and society be shaped." Furthermore, it is a thought that arises from his personal observation of how "the more we advance, the more we lose our mental and spiritual balance". An example of this is in the play Uttar Priyadarshi through which Thiyam beams the message that the world is changing and that violence will eventually lead us nowhere.  Speaking about Uttar Priyadarshi, Thiyam says that the play projects a Buddhist attitude towards violence. It unfolds through the presence of four monks on stage who take the audience through a range of emotions, sometimes lost in their chanting, sometimes strong, at other times shaking with fear. Serious and scathing, alternately witty and hilarious, the tale is based on a poem by Ajenya who profiles the renowned Maurya king Ashoka under whom flourished what is known as the Golden Age of Buddhism (324-187 BC).
Ashoka, who came from a long line of brutal military leaders, was victorious in war and came to rule over most of the Indian sub-continent. But after his conquest of the people of Kalinga he is said to have had a change of heart and given up most of his ambition to fight and conquer. Whether he himself actually became a Buddhist or not is a much-debated point. Thiyam reinforces his personal ideas and philosophies by using the tools of stage production. In Uttar Priyadarshi , for instance, the colour red bathes many of the violent scenes, highlighted through various lighting techniques. One particular scene that stands out shows the victorious king trying to celebrate his victory even as people mock him. Then come the war widows -- figures in white that appear from both sides of the stage and cross into red banners signifying blood. As the widows sob and moan, the final effect is one of heart-wrenching sympathy for the lives sacrificed to satiate the greed of the ruler. As someone who loves to experiment and innovate, Thiyam has explored the interaction between traditional performing art forms and contemporary theatre, passing through a phase when he deliberately broke with tradition. "The important thing is to understand that within each of us there resides another person and therefore any work has to touch both, the outer and inner circles. Therefore, the volcanic eruption that happens within us is what makes more sense than the external effect," he says. On the theme of violence, Thiyam believes that the war around us has changed generations and will continue to do so, in a negative way, in the future. "War can affect children. War can affect women, making them prostitutes. All this is not normal," he observes. Thiyam uses theatre, especially through plays like Urubhangham and Chakravyuh, to express his innermost feelings and thoughts. "I don't claim to find solutions. But until and unless I keep knocking on the door of the human conscience, it will not be opened. We have to open the faculties of the people, even those who are violent enough to wipe out human civilisation and this beautiful world," he says. But when violence and his attack against it become too much to bear, Thiyam takes a break. He returns to nature through a play like Ritusamharm , which, without a linear plot structure, takes a poetic look at the changing seasons. "There had come a time when I had forgotten nature, wrapped up as I was with the terrible situation in Manipur. That is when I decided to take a fresh look at what the earth has to offer," he says. These are but a few moments of peace snatched amidst the intensity of violence. Thiyam knows that only too well. (InfoChange News & Features, January 2004)
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