FEMINISM IN HAYAVADANA
Feminism, since its coinage has been used and interpreted in
numerous shades and shapes of its meaning. The essence of feminism has,
however, always been more or less the same. It stands for the belief that women
have the same rights and opportunities that men have. In this way, feminism serves as
an aid to women's empowerment. Feminist literary criticism is the direct
product of the ‘women’s movement’ of the 1960s. This movement being literary
from the start realized the necessity to combat the images of women promulgated
by literature and aimed at exposing the mechanisms of patriarchy, that is, the
cultural mindset in men and women which perpetuated sexual inequality.
Notwithstanding its Western origin, literature all over the world through this
outlook has questioned and challenged the imprisoning customs of patriarchy.
Indian English
literature in the post-independence era has witnessed a spurt in women’s writing as
well as feminist literary criticism. This explosion of feminist writing has
uncovered the ideology of patriarchal society in the works of art. While many
feminist critics have decried the literature written by men for its depiction
of women as marginal, docile, and subservient to men’s interests, some of them
have also identified male writers who have managed to rise above the sexual
prejudices of their time. One such male playwright of the post-independence era
is Girish Karnad, who has nearly falsified the words of Hardy’s heroine
Bathsheba Boldwood in Far From the Maddening Crowd who had lamented that “It is
difficult for a woman to express her feelings in a language which is chiefly
made by men to express theirs.” The force with which Karnad has articulated
feminist concern in a language which is arguably ‘made by men to express
theirs’ in his plays like; Hayavadana, Naga-mandala, and Yayati, has made him a
pro-feminist. This paper, therefore, undertakes a feminist perspective on
Karnad plays with special reference to Hayavadana.
In Hayavadana, the main plot starts with Bhagvatha’s
introduction of the two friends having “One mind, one Heart”, namely, Devdatta
and Kapila. “The former is a slender,
delicate-looking person and the latter is powerfully built.” Devdatta is known
for his intellectual and creative power and Kapila is known for his muscular
physique and is popular as a wrestler. Karnad describes the beauty of Padmini
through Devdatta who falls in love with her. “Her beauty is as a magic lake.
Her arms the lotus creepers. Her breasts are golden urns”. Padmini is portrayed
with all the feminine qualities which reminds one of Sita of Ramayana, an
embodiment of domesticity. Kapila’s description of Padmini at first sight as
“She is Yakshini, Shakuntala, Indumati- all rolled into one’ strengthens the idea
of feminine. The above description of Padmini by Devdatta and Kapila also
points to the fact that the projection of the image of women has been
compressed into a few roles which can be categorized into positive roles and
negative roles. The positive roles depict women as Sita or Savitri, and the
negative roles, which being misogynic in nature depict them as a vamp, seductresses, and so on. Moreover, the description of Padmini by Devdatta and Kapila also
foregrounds the images of women in patriarchal eyes.
Kapila helps in introducing Devdatta to Padmini which
results in the marriage of the two. After the marriage whenever Padmini
mentions Kapila, the Indian masculine mind of Devdatta comes out and compels
him to say “He just can’t go as before”. He starts to act like a husband who
wishes to overpower and dominate his wife and moreover, the one who tries to
circumscribe his wife’s freedom of expression. Devdatta here is denying the
common rights to Padmini. In this episode, Karnad’s presentation of Padmini is
very near to William Shakespeare who in his famous play, Othello, presents a
very truthful presentation of a woman and feminine sensibilities. Emilia, a
woman character flings irony of male domination and argues for the freedom of
women, saying:
“Let
husbands know
Their
wives have sense like them; they see and smell,
And have
their palates both for sweet and sour
As
husbands have. What is it that they do
When
they change us for others? Is it sport?
I think it
is. And doth affection breed it?
I think it
doth. Is’t fraility that thus errs?
It is so
too. And have not we affections,
Desire for
sport, and fraility, as men have?
Then let
them use us well; else let them know.
The ills we
do their ills instructs us so.”
We cannot rule out the fact that Devdatta’s insecurity is
growing and to comfort his sense of insecurity, he is trying to ‘change’
Padmini. Devdatta chides Padmini saying, “You have no sense of what not to say.
So long as you can chatter and run around like a child… and drool over Kapila
all day.” To which Padmini retorts, “Oh! That’s biting you…aren’t you jealous
of him?” Later, Padmini even shows her concern over Devdatta, who “can’t bear a
bitter word or an evil thought” and is gentle. She says:
“But you are
so fragile! I don’t know how you are going to go through life wrapped in silk
like this! You are still a baby…”
This remark of Padmini holds true what Kapila had said of
Padmini before marriage to Devdatta:
“But this
one is fast as lightning- and as sharp. She is not for the likes of you. What
she needs is a man of steel.”
Padmini being denied the fulfilment of companionship in
Devdatta develops an admiration for Kapila. When they travel to Ujjain by cart
Padmini admires the way Kapila drives. Her admiration for him reaches momentum
when he climbs to pluck Fortunate Lady Flower for her. She exclaims, “What an
ethereal shape!” Such open patriarchal moral transgression burns Devadatta’s
heart. Her gaze on him disturbs Devdatta. Soon after this, in hopelessness and
despair, he cuts off his head to carry out his promise to Kali. Kapila comes in
search of him and also beheads himself
saying,” I can’t live without you”. Padmini comes in search of them but finds
their bodies. She thinks that society will blame her for the death.
“What shall I
do now? Where shall I go? How can I go home? ... And what shall I say when I
get there? What shall I say happened? And who’ll believe me? They’ll all say
the two fought and died for this whore.”
Anticipating the
humiliation, she decides to kill herself. As she is about to kill herself, the
goddess Kali turns up. Padmini implores Kali to save her from social slanders.
“I can’t show my face to anyone in the world. I can’t….” (TP 102) It shows that
Padmini cannot rise above the patriarchal politics of sexism inwardly and is also fettered by the man-made laws of society. Kali orders her to attach the bodies to their respective heads but in
excitement, she mixes them. Consequently, Devadatta’s head got Kapila’s body and
Kapila’s head got Devadatta’s body. Thus, Padmini’s dream of an able-bodied man
with sharp head is fulfilled. Now a feud rises over regarding the real
husband of Padmini between Kapila and Devadatta. When Padmini pleads with Kapila to
allow her to go with Devdatta, he says,” I know what you want, Padmini,
Devdatta’s clever head and Kapila’s strong body”. Hearing this Devdatta says in
defence of Padmini, “It is natural for a woman to feel drawn to a fine figure
of a man”. This brings out the hypocritical nature of Devdatta, now blessed
with the best of mind and body, who defends Padmini’s passion for perfection who
earlier accused her of “drooling over Kapila”. Devdatta siding with Padmini
shows his selfish desire to appropriate Padmini even at the cost of friendship;
and once again to tie her in the patriarchal codes of conduct. One is saddened
to think that Padmini’s passion for perfection and completeness becomes
acceptable only after getting the nod of Devdatta, a symbol of patriarchal
order. The feud that ensues between Devdatta and Kapila over Padmini after the
transposition of heads points to the degradation of Padmini from a human to a
doll going to the best bidder. This is exemplified when Devdatta says, “Of all
the human limbs the topmost- in position as well as in importance- is the head.
I have Devdatta’s head and it follows that I am Devadatta”.
Female sexuality, in this play, finds its full expression
through Padmini. We say so, because, it is free from the tight noose of
traditional marriage. Where the traditional patriarchal Hindu society expects
women to be pativratas; karnad questions this submission to the old order by putting
forward his view through the Female Chorus:
“why should
love stick to the sap of a single body? When the stem is drunk with the thick the yearning of the many-petalled, many-flowered lantana, why should it be tied
down to the relation of a single flower?
Padmini’s satisfaction with the new version of her husband
is short-lived. Again, she is haunted by her passion for perfection and in her
inability to supplant her desire, she goes back to meet Kapila in the woods. On
meeting Kapila, she asks, “Must the head always win?” This question of Padmini manifests her inner
conflict, that is, the societal norms which give propriety and intellect the
prime seat of importance and which look down upon the physical aspects of
life, suppress instincts and encourage self-effacement. Here, we are
reminded of D.H Lawrence’s vision in Sons and Lovers, where he says that the
instinct is as real as the spirit and advocates to redress the balance between
the body and the spirit. Padmini is not only torn apart because of “the mad
dance of incompleteness”, but also because of the subjugation of her feminine
sensibility in the male-dominant hierarchical set-up. She says:
“You won,
Kapila. Devdatta won too. But I – the better half of two bodies- I neither win
or lose…”
Kapila after getting discovered by Devdatta with Padmini in
the woods proposes, “ Couldn’t we all three live together- like Pandavas and
Draupadi?” To which Devdatta replies, “No, it can’t be done…what won’t end has
to be cut… We must both die”. Here, one may ask if polygamy is right, and how
polyandry is abhorrent. One may conclude that Padmini out of alienation chose
to become Sati, but this act of her’s is an instance of her free-will, that is,
in choosing not to languish in the patriarchal bars and to stand for her dream
of a man of unrivalled intellectual and physical prowess, of perfection of man.
It is this that makes Bhagvata remark, “but it would not be an exaggeration to
say that no pativrata went in the way Padmini did.” Furthermore, Padmini belies
Shakespeare’s dictum, “Fraility, thy name is woman.”
The play gives primacy to women in the relations of
marriage and creates space for the expression and fulfilment of female
desires which are amoral and unbearable to patriarchal eyes. In this context,
the genre of ‘urban folk theatre to which Hayavadana belongs offers a contrast
to the representation of women in the ‘urban realist drama of such
playwrights as Vijay Tendulkar, Badal Sircar and Mahesh Dattani. The essential
difference lies in the different attitudes to gender that emerge within the
plays when the playwrights move out of the urban social-realist mode into the
anti-realistic realm of folk culture. For instance, Hayavadana embodies several
aspects of gender that are absent in realist plays. First, Padmini is the
object of desire as well as the desiring subject, she wants something other than
what society has ordained for her. The very articulation of this desire
violates the norms of feminine behaviour and tampers with the established order
of propriety. Second, she succeeds in achieving her passion because of the
transposition of heads. Third, while realist drama emphasizes the maternal role,
folk drama asserts the feminine, that is, it detaches womanhood from motherhood(
for instance, Hayavadana’s mother on being cursed to become a horse prances
away happily leaving behind him) . In this play, the women want or get men they
cannot legitimately have, for instance, Hayavadana’s mother, the Princess of
Karnataka, chooses to marry a white stallion over the Prince of Araby, and
Padmini also enjoys the bliss of a fantastic body and fantastic mind in Devdatta,
though short-lived. With this women in folk drama find the means of exercising
unattainable freedom, unlike their counterparts in such plays as Mahesh
Dattani’s Tara or Vijay Tendulkar’s Silence! The Court is in Session.
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