This opening sequence based on the verse rāmo nāma babhūva is akin to the narration of Saṅkṣepa-rāmāyaṇa that occurs in the first sarga of the original epic. Once the connoisseurs are familiar with the story, they can enjoy the details. It is like making a line drawing first and then filling it with colours to produce a beautiful work of art. Padma’s choice of the first verse provides the line drawing, which is extremely charming in itself!
Sītā-kalyāṇa
Just as Śrī-rāma’s footsteps have integrated the entire landscape of India, Padma in her presentation integrates the thoughts and poems of many different poets and saints who have written and sung about Śrī-rāma.
The next segment depicts the svayaṃvara of Śrī-rāma and Sītā. It begins with the entry of Sītā into a garden for the worship of Devī Gaurī, to pray for her blessings for the svayaṃvara on the following day. Padma establishes the surroundings through her creative abhinaya filled with rich details. Sītā observes a swan, chases after it by walking just like a swan, but it escapes her grasp – she then watches a lake and swans floating on its waters. Padma’s depiction of the swan is not merely limited to using the relevant abhinaya-hastas; she uses her entire body to bring out the movement and the grace of a swan – her neck, waist, feet, eyes, and eyebrows – all follow the gait of a swan. She does not merely depict the surroundings but contextualises it with Sītā participating. Padma actually moves like a river and becomes the swan floating on the river. She never fails to bring in multi-dimensional effects and convinces the viewer about the texture, temperature, fragrance, sounds, and sights of the particular scene.
Sītā next picks some fragrant (jasmine) flowers, strings them together into a ball, and starts playing with it. The music that accompanies Sītā playing with the floral ball is rich with dramatic effects; even without watching the dancer, one can actually visualize a maiden juggling and bouncing a ball with her hands. The leaps, jumps, swings, distance traversed, etc., are indicated by appropriate transition between the svaras through jāru- and kampita- gamakas; dāṭu and jaṇti-svaras are employed as well. Similarly, the tāla comes with different gatis, including off-beat movements (both before-beat and after-beat). Although Padma does not actually hold a ball in her hand, she provides all the effects of the ball moving in all the three-dimensions; her eyes, eyebrows, and her entire head, follow the ‘movement’ of the ball. She also helps us feel the apparent weight of the ball and the effort in catching it. Her movements contain karaṇas, karaṇāṃśas, and cārīs including Mattalī, Nūpura-pādikā, and Cakramaṇḍala. This can be considered a nātya-dharmī parallel to the kanduka-nṛtta mentioned in medieval treatises like Nṛtta-ratnāvalī and literary works such as Daśa-kumāra-caritam (episode of princess Kandukavatī playing with a ball); while in the deśī forms of dance, the ball is actually present, here, it is an imaginative ball, made visible to the connoisseurs through nātya-dharmī embedded with sattva. The floral-ball slips away from Sītā’s hand and she is embarrassed for a moment. The next second, her face reveals that she has spotted something else – her eyes and mouth are wide open and she is awe-stuck. Padma’s establishment of a new character through the anubhāvas of an existing character is extremely impactful. Padma changes over into Rāma who is walking holding a bow and arrow in his hand; his feet first feel something soft and then he notices that it is a floral ball. Padma makes sure that her Rāma puts his arrow back into quiver and hangs the bow to his shoulder and then picks up the ball (She is always conscious of what the character is depicted to be holding and what it should be replaced with); Rāma is surprised to find the ball and looks for its owner. He then spots Sītā standing at a height and their eyes meet for the first time – the floral ball sets the beautiful pretext for the love. Sītā looks at Rāma, loses herself to his form but immediately checks if no one is watching her; once she is sure that no one else is watching, she becomes conscious about herself and turns shy. Rāma continues to envelope her through his eyes, still carrying the floral ball in his hand. Sītā tries to look away but is not able to contain her excitement – she looks back at him; Rāma then asks if she wants the ball, and when she says no, he gently throws the ball away. The floral ball, which acted as the vibhāva has now served its purpose – it has established bhāva of rati between Rāma and Sītā and that will remain the sthāyi-bhāva throughout their lives. Moreover, when Sītā’s heart has captured Rāma, she does not desire anything else, let alone the floral ball. This entire sequence involving playing with the ball is an outcome of Padma’s brilliant creativity.[1] Padma constantly switches between the two characters and brings out both the masculine and feminine sattva; for the accompaniment of this sequence, she has seamlessly blended the lines from the Kamba-rāmāyaṇa with those of Tulasīdās’ Rāmcaritamānas. She shows how the loving glances of Rāma enter the heart of Sītā through her eyes and she locks them in her heart. As Kamban says, there was no need to speak – their eyes spoke, their very beings united; the beings that had got separated from the kṣīra-sāgara now got reunited and there was no need for words. Sītā notices someone approaching and her sakhī teases her saying that she should close her eyes and perform dhyāna to Rāma, instead of praying to Gaurī. A bashful Sītā, who is caught red-handed, pulls a curtain to cover herself. Rāma’s eyes search for her but he realises that he is in the company of Viśvāmitra and Lakṣmaṇa. He asks them to lead the way and he half-heartedly follows them, as he keeps looking back towards Sītā’s direction; his mind is completely arrested in her, and only his body tries hard to move forward. It reminds us of a verse from the Abhijñāna-śākuntalam of Kālidāsa, which goes – gacchati puraḥ śarīraṃ dhāvati paścād-asaṃstutaṃ cetaḥ. Sītā also tries to peep from behind the curtain and finds that Rāma has walked away; they now experience pangs of vipralambha-śṛṅgāra.
Thus, from the poems of Kamban and Tulasīdās (and also from Sanskrit works such as Prasanna-rāghava by Jayadeva), the actual mānasa-svayaṃvara and nayana-pariṇaya took place in the backdrop of a beautiful garden and in the context of a sport with a floral ball. The garden provides a better set of uddīpana-vibhāvas than the formal setting of a palace. By choosing the compositions of Kamban and Tulasīdās Padma has not only integrated the South Indian and the North Indian traditions of Rāmāyaṇa retellings in her presentation, but has also strung together lines from different languages; though the language maybe different, the thought is the same. She thereby establishes the unified spirit of the Indian psyche and the manner in which Rāma and Sītā have been inseparable parts of Indian life across times and spaces.
To be continued
The current article is an extract from the book Nayana-Savana, authored by Shatavadhani Dr R. Ganesh and Arjun Bharadwaj.
[1] Many such sequences including the proud display of ten moustaches and crowns on Rāvaṇa’s head are results of Padma’s creativity. They are not documented either in the Tamil or the Sanskrit versions of the Rāmāyaṇa. These great value additions made by Padma have so deeply influenced the imagination of generations of artists and students that many have adapted them in their forms of art, thinking that the original literature says so. This shows that Padma’s improvisations appear as if the seer-poets themselves have spoken so. That is the nature of her impeccable creativity. She never compromises on the vision provided by the ṛṣi-kavis; we are sure that Vālmīki and Vyāsa too would have gladly welcomed these value additions! Padma walks the path of the ṛṣis, indeed!
