MONOLOGUES BY MANJULA
PADMANABHAN AND OTHER
WRIRINGS

G. D. BIRLA SABHAGHAR

7 JULY / 7 PM
DIRECTED BY JAYANT KRIPALANI,
A THEATRE PRODUCTION BY THE RED CURTAIN
PRESENTED BY SEAGULL EMPIRE AND SANSKRITI SAGAR

BASED ON MANJULA PADMANABHAN’S
‘HIDDEN FIRES : FOUR MONOLOGUES IN RESPONSE TO THE CRISIS IN GUJARAT‘

Hidden Fires

. . . I see it in your face — you think I did something wrong. I tell you, it was not wrong. It was right. It was the only thing to do. You would do it yourself, believe me, if you saw a fire coming your way. If you thought there was no other way to save yourself from getting burnt.

At the end of that first day, we heard the news. Two hundred dead. At the end of the next day, we heard the news. Three hundred dead. At the end of the month, we heard the news. Two thousand dead. At the end of six months, ten thousand dead.

The fire of otherness. A deadly scourge. But there’s a simple rule to follow: when you see a fire, stamp it out. That first day, I counted ten. But after that day, I stopped counting. I don’t know how many I killed. It became routine. Nothing very special. Like pest control. Like fire-fighting.

You mustn’t allow yourself to be confused. Some people – you for instance – you want to know: But HOW could I, anyone, actually kill people? So many people? I keep telling you: I didn’t kill anyone. Nobody killed anybody. We saw fires and we put them out.

It’s a useful approach, this one. Before, when I was still just an ordinary shopkeeper, looking after the store, minding my business, I didn’t realize how simple life could be. All these years I used to think there were many laws, rules, regulations. I did as I was told. I obeyed all the rules. But now I understand: there is only one rule. When you see a fire, stamp it out.

Don’t wait for help or call for the police. When you see a fire, stamp it out.

And there are a lot of fires around, believe me. Not so easy to see all of them. Some of them are hidden. Even from the people in whom they burn. It takes special eyes to see them. My eyes for instance … I think I am starting to doubt them. At one time, everyone I saw, I knew exactly who they were. Where they came from. No longer. Now everyone wears the same clothes, the same marks on their foreheads, the same spectacles and ties … sometimes I have trouble guessing: is that one of Them or one of Us?

I used to think, If I don’t see, immediately, from your expression, or the clothes you wear, or the style of jewelry around your neck or the colour of your bangles, or the cut of your blouse that you are one of Us, the chances are I will assume that you’re one of Them. That’s how I used to think.

It’s like that amongst the animals. There are lions, there are deer: does anyone say, Oh the lions are the same as the deer and the deer are the same as the lions? No, of course not! Of course we say they are each of them is different from the other!

Similarly with us. Some of us are deer, and some of us are lions. That’s all there is to it. Very simple. It’s normal for the lions to eat the deer. It’s normal for the deer to run from the lions. After all, no one wants to be eaten. Even when it’s just their . . . how shall I call it? Their destiny. As deer. As prey.

It’s the law of the jungle. And when the law of the jungle is broken, there is Chaos. That’s what. And no one wants Chaos. Not even the deer. Ask me? I should know! I don’t want Chaos. That’s why I’m talking to you. Because I want to help you — to avoid Chaos, that is.

I’m sure you don’t want Chaos, either.

You just want to get on with your life. That’s true, isn’t it? It’s true for me too. I’m sure you can see that. Of course you do. I am sure you’ll understand then, why I’ve come to you now. Why I’m standing here today. I just need a little of your time and …

Please — no — don’t turn away: just listen to me. Please.

Till yesterday … it was all so clear. Like I’ve described to you. Everything was simple. It was the law of the jungle, and I was a lion. Till yesterday. That’s when they came to my house and — no, wait, please! Don’t turn away!

They didn’t even ask questions. They just began to beat me up. Then they threw me out of my house and set fire to my wife. She was not yet forty. They took away my sisters and their daughters. They strangled my son in front of me and pissed inside his dead mouth.

I screamed! I cried! I said, I am one of you! All they said was, Hidden fires. You have hidden fires. And we’ve got to put them out.

I said, No! No! You’re wrong! I have no hidden fires! I have nothing you don’t have! But they were deaf. They were blind. Hidden fires, they said, we’ve got to put them out.

Show me! I begged them. Show me one sign that I am different to you! But all they said was, We need no reasons, don’t you see? That’s the law of the jungle. You believe in too, don’t you? Just like we do. You say you’re a lion, but your great-grandmother, three generations ago, SHE was a deer — someone told us — and that makes you a deer! And that’s your hidden fire. So we’ve got to put you out. Then they told me they would be kind to me. They would spare my life. Then they told me to go far away and never come back. They told me to forget about my shop, my house, my property. And that was all they said.

Excerpt from Hidden Fires, Manjula Padmanabhan, 2000.

A Review of the Performance in Hindustan Times
Message of Peace that struck a universal chord – Jayanth Jacob

It was a call for peace. And a brilliant cast ensured that it told on the conscience of the audience, gathered in large numbers at G. D. Birla Sabhaghar. Peacewards, the theatre production by Red Curtain and Seagull staged earlier this month conveyed several strong messages at a time when “the best lack convictions and the worst are full of passionate intensities.” Raise your voice when you see injustice. Because when justice is denied to you, no one will come to your support. And in a world populated with conformists, it is necessary to keep your conscience clear, speak your mind even under the most strenuous circumstances. These were the principal themes of the production, aided by songs by Insomnia. Veteran theatre personality Jayant Krishnapalani directed the production, based on Manjula Padmanabhan’s monologues written on the Gujrat riots. And it was amply evident; Kripalani has trained his team well enough to put up a brilliant performance.

The monologue Know the Truth was the most striking, primarily because it satirized the electronic media’s love for trivia even as cities went up in flames. However, it would have helped to mention that during the carnage, it was the English media, including the television channels, which were most critical of the Modi Goverenment. Nevertheless, Know the Truth hit home because it was in the form of an interactive programme. The anchor of the programme (Parni Ray in a brilliant role) reported how the channel had placed reporters in violence-prone areas. Intermittently, she consoled panic-stricken viewers, asking those who were sure to die to not run for their lives.

The show is also interspersed with political leaders assuring viewers that “normalcy will be restored as early as possible” and “violence is the handiwork of foreign hands to malign the reputation of the country” and airing orchestrated feel good messages.