Ramayana Retold: When ASEAN’s Superheroes Ram And Hanuman Met Valmiki’s

In India, Ramayana's first home, depiction of Ram and his beauty in good adaptation of the epic, its retelling, folk manifestations and contemporaneity, rarely come during 'spring'. Recently, Ram and Ramayana were celebrated in New Delhi, through performance and visual forms focusing on his beauty, friends, alliances and journeys, in the Ramayana Festival held by the Indian Council for Cultural Relations (ICCR) on the occasion of ASEAN-India Commemorative Summit 2018, and Ram Abhiram - a grand display of 97 artefacts dating between 5th century AD and 19th century AD, from across India, at the National Museum. The two events have redefined depiction and viewing of Ram and Ramayana.

In an adaptation of Ramayana from Philippines, at the Ramayana Festival, Ram, the beautiful Ram, prepares to deliver a heroic feat during the final assault on Ravana. He takes a giant leap, a step and jump, and lands on a vaanara's back, firm and upright, looking, under the stage lights, like a rock bathed in the evening sun. In less than a moment, a weapon flies out of Ram's hands, towards Ravana. Ram is played by actor and dancer Kim. At first glance, this episode may have seemed like any moment from Indian Ramlila influenced by chhau, the folk performance form. But it is not. This brave retelling (sprinkled with some singing by Ram and Sita) transcends a Hindu rooted in the tradition of Ramayana, to the back and beyond of Aranya, Kishkinda and Yudhha Kandas carefully preserved in Philippines.

When the performance ends, Indians in the audience gather around Kim and the troupe. It is a standard gesture that comes as a mark of respect and affection towards actors in Ramlila, especially those actors who are able to enact, part of, the image, idea or imagination of Ram arising out of Valmiki's text. "You are a gorgeous Ram," someone tells Kim. He gulps some emotion. It's Kim's graduation day, and, he should have been attending the ceremony, with his friends and loved ones, back in Philippines. "I had to be in Delhi for Ram and myself," he tells me.

At the National Museum, Ram Abhiram, a temporary display, a 3.5 cm depiction of Ram and Sita in gold, from Thanjavur, studded with precious stone, offers a customary darshan towards an emotional curatorial journey, where, the kaands from Ramayana reflect in artefacts and paintings. Aranya, a collection of heart wrenching accounts of Ram's sudden separation of Sita, Jatayu vadh and Ram's search for Sita, reawakens the epic on paper, mostly, through paintings from Mewar and Mandi styles.

The two events, not organised with the intention of connected viewing, throw a setu, a bridge, between the visual in performance and performance in visual. The two events bring to surface material, symbolic representation of assimilation, identities and conflicts relevant to India's visual and performance traditions and several manifestations of the Ram story from the ASEAN nations.

The response to the two events should inspire (and push) ICCR and the Ministry of Culture, to give the two events wider audience, in singularity, in India and outside. Why? Because both "tell" without "destroying" the original. Because both "recreate" performance literature from "a great epic". Because both give young and old audience the opportunity to know and feel Ram, "his beauty", "his failings", and the "power in being like Ram". Because both engage. Because both tell Indians what they are losing and may lose, if what is to be conserved, protected, told and retold, is not (conserved, protected, told and retold). Because both bring back to "identity", a "certain us". Because, we are told, by non-Indians who have read the Ramayana, perform it, interpret and live it, in portions they can, that loving Ram and letting him love Sita, is not a "narrative of masculinity" and, telling the story of Sita, Tara, Surpanakha, not "challenging patriarchal hegemony", but a natural response to loving Ram and his universe. Ram of Valmiki's Ayodhya, Aranya, Kishkinda, Yuddha. Phra Ram in Ramakein. Phralam in Phralak Phralam.

In India, the tradition continues, outside the visual realm, in painting and sculptures over the centuries, spilling, today, into many contemporary narratives of dance and music, while, the ASEAN countries draw narratives structured on folk and classical performance forms and local interpretations of Ramayana and inspired literature. The ocean, for 'telling', was first crossed by Hanuman.

The Ramayana Festival and Ram Abhiram show that while Ram continues to be celebrated as the hero, Hanuman, Sugreeva, Bali, Angad and vaanaras in Ram's army, are and have been, over centuries, seen under a warm spotlight. Kris, an actor in the troupe from Philippines, says, "In Philippines, people see Ram as the hero of this great epic, but young viewers show huge interest in Hanuman, Sugreeva, and monkeys in Ram's army." Ramayana Festival is the natural meeting ground for "Look East" and "Look West" bhavas of a tradition that receives its superheroes from Valmiki.

Kim and his troupe come from a tradition that is not only rooted in Ramayana, but has also sustained the art of storytelling by using the finest aspects of pangalay, a dance form. Bamboo has been used to heighten the sense of dimension, distance, confrontation and defense. Linear and brilliant portrayal of the local, civilisational and global.

The emotion, largely, Kim associates with in his performance of the character of Ram, is "pride". He says, "Ram is beautiful. He is the man who never gives up. I hope the character leaves some good influence on me and I become a good man who is able to take tough emotional and work tasks." Roel, the young actor playing Hanuman is open to more challenges in performance and the coveted role. He says, "I love Hanuman for his playfulness, for the aspect that Hanuman is so helpful to Ram, the god himself. I hope to become more aware of texts on Hanuman to be able to give my act more depth.”

Spring, the season of love and love in separation, for Ram, the Ram in Kishkinda. Philippines throws open a beautiful path to Valmiki's Kishkinda in the adaptation, and, Kishkinda, the section dedicated to Valmiki's chapter in Ram Abhiram, to Pampa, the sprouting of spring, the season's colours, lotus, birds, trees, blossoms, Ram's separation-torn calm, his beauty, Lakshman's attentive and patient presence, Hanuman's first meeting with Ram and Lakshman, and his devotion.

Spring. The season for alliances and friendships. In Valmiki Ramayana, spring arrives, full and fragrant in Kishkinda kaand, when Rama, with Lakshmana, is walking through Pampa. Kishkinda is where Lakshman has to stimulate Ram, to pull him out, from his grief over separation from Sita.
Valmiki, through Ram's lips, immortalises spring in Kishkinda, leading to Ram's walk towards crucial meeting with Hanuman and Sugreeva. It is the beginning of spring.

Philippines shows Ram as a colossal hero. A hero who stands for dharma. A hero who fights. A hero who loves. "The idea is to stay rooted in the epic and engage the audience, be able to narrate episodes that tug at the heart strings, be able to explore the treasure of meanings and metaphors and encourage the audience to reach for real texts and deeper meanings," a member says. Here, Ram even gives Sita a light peck on the forehead, as he leaves to chase the swaranamrig. The peck becomes a fleeting-sweet distraction for Indian actors and dancers attending this performance, and, thankfully, no one in the auditorium seems to have a problem with Ram, the beautiful Ram. No cold-eyed view and no feminist lens.

Members of the troupe know Ram's story since their childhood and have played with contextual ropes thrown free by the story of Ravana - Maharadia Lawana, to say the story through dance forms singkil and pangalay.

The performance from Philippines draws aesthetic buoyancy and dimension from generous and valiant use of bamboo sticks - as props, element, vehicle and weapon. For a moment, I wish, I could take the vehicle - the assembled and jumbled riffraff of bamboos, and travel to Philippines, to witness the shaping of a marvellous retelling. The body movements and use of bamboo are laced with the influence, flow and intricacies of pangalay. "Ram's story is part of our cultural consciousness since childhood. It is part of our text books. It is a story we love. It is the story our tribes love. For the retelling of Ramayana, we adopt some movements from pangalay, which is popular across Philippines. We practise for three to five months before incorporating the movements in the production based on Ramayana," says Kris.

What would Ramayana be without the art of retelling that extends to the south east Asian countries, recurring, ebbing, like waves of the ocean, and returning to India? I stumble upon part of the answer in the green room where Khamphou Khautisen, vice director, Phralak Phralam, the Lao Ramayana, is arranging crowns meant for characters presenting "Golden Deer and the Abduction of Sida" on a table, before their performance at the Ramayana Festival. The veteran artiste says, "The revival of Ramayana in Lao PDR has been an arduous journey. Efforts from artistes and intellectuals, between the late 1950s and 1980s helped us evolve the art of retelling Ramayana through Phralak Phralam. The idea is to breathe life into every element used in the performance. Every crown here is a symbol of the characters."

"Golden Deer and the Abduction of Sida" is precious retelling, bejewelled with music from strings, mallets and drums, music accompaniment so powerful, it fades the absence of words, sentences, dialogue. In the green room, Khamhapradith Pheuymr, director and choreographer, Royal Ballet Theatre, does a slow run of movements for one of the characters, breaking them between seconds, before the actors and dancers. On stage, the actor playing swarnamriga presents it in perfection, breaking away from Ram's footsteps, in momentary stillness, every time, like in a moment frozen in painting on paper. I, owing to language barriers, am unable to tell Pheuymr that contemporary Ramlila versions in India require two to three actors playing swarnamrig - to achieve continuity and minimise disruption in movement - something the veteran director manages with one.

I come across miniature parallel to moments in Lao's interpretations, at Ram Abhiram. Viewing a painting, Mandi style, Pahadi tradition, depicting Ram chasing the swarnamrig, I go weak in the knees, discovering the proximity and similarity in Pheuymr's interpretation of this episode and its translation in moment, with the visual depiction in the work of art painted in mid 18th century. Pheuymr, perhaps, has not seen this Mandi style painting, never will. For him, like many others in south east Asian nations, like many unknown artistes living in India, Valmiki's Ramayana, versions and their stories of Ram and performance literature based on both, have and will be, the source of imagination, detail and storytelling on the dance canvas.

I return to Ram Abhiram a week after ICCR's Ramayana festival. Now, it becomes difficult to see the two events in duality and separation. These works of art, curated under a captivating presence of navarasas, were put together by a team of experts from different departments of the National Museum under Dr BR Mani. "It was really tough to exclude some works from our permanent display, for Ram Abhiram. We have been able to dig interesting material from within the museum itself, right from 5th century BCE to late 18th and 19th century, including two original manuscripts. The idea is to see the beauty of Ram in art and tradition," says Dr Mani, who has excavated sites in Ayodhya on the orders of Allahabad High Court.

I revisit Ram Abhiram three more times (it was extended till 10 February beyond its viewing schedule). Never before has a display of artefacts and paintings from India's treasure of tangible heritage bombarded the memory and viewing of the performance of Ram story (classical, folk, contemporary dance and music forms), through its versatile representation of Hanuman, Sugreeva, Bali, Nal, Neela, and the countless vaanaras in Ram's army.

Ram Abhiram digs up the inexhaustible reserves of memory. Memory of a story told over and over again; of episodes, the kaands; interpretation of text and the using of that memory as material, again. Is it not how the Ramayana has been told and retold over the centuries, across the oceans?

Ram Abhiram throws open expressions exploring the beauty of Rama from across India. Based on the narration of the Bal, Ayodhya, Aranya, Kishkinda, Sundar, Yudha and Uttara kandas, the artefacts and works of art, costumes and masks used in the Indian retelling through performance forms, a hand embroidered temple hanging used around the garbagriha depicting 30 episodes of Kishkinda and Sundar kaand; a group of bronze amulets depicting Hanuman, showing the devotional and ritual aspects of Ram bhakti in north central and south India. Late 18th century works in terracotta, all from Bengal, show Ram and Dashaanand against the beauty of selves, and dhanush. Curator Dr Anamika Pathak says, "Bishnupur in Bengal has great sites to observe works in terracotta that mostly exist in plaques outside temples. Very delicate, these have been preserved with a lot of care and caution."

In the Ram story from Philippines, bamboo has breathed texture into the battle scenes. The vanara sena moves in a diagonal axis of assault and balance. Flips and leaps break the rhythm of narration and symmetry. The movements remind me of a familiar vocabulary. I imagine what the bleeding of pangalay into Mayurbhanj and Saraikela chhau would achieve, in contemporary adaptations of Ramlila, if a collaborative retelling of Ramayana of India and Philippines took place. Roel, a young actor from Phillipines is willing to keep adding new movements and symbols of power, in his vocabulary and arsenal. He says, "Reading of Ramayana texts in more detail and viewing traditional visual depictions, perhaps, would give me more clues about dance moments I am yet to explore. Observing versions of Ramayana performed in ASEAN countries gives me many ideas on movements."

Meanwhile, at Ram Abhiram, there is a bit of a giggle situation. I stand before a 16th century work from Bikaner, Rajasthan, one of the four works in the collection titled "Monkey Warriors". The anonymous painter has depicted the vaanaras pointing guns at Ravana. Ravana, armed, but not looking aggressive, is depicted seated on a vahana, is, perhaps mid-flight, and he, too, prepares to shoot, from his gun. Tails of the vaanaras - curling and alert, their right hands support the gun, and left - trigger happy. Ravana's gun is tilted downwards. The work is a valuable source of hasya rasa. Dr Pathak tells Swarajya that the team's motive was to see the 97 artefacts and paintings displayed from the National Museum's internal collection, in the light of the navarasas. Pathak says, "Monkey Warriors leaves everyone in giggles. We are amazed to witness the wide range of depictions and imagination in retelling every single episode. In this work, showing the vaanaras holding guns, the artist has taken liberty with interpretation of text. Bhavas depicted in other works compelled us to see the collection under the glow of navarasas. This idea appealed to us more than the idea of school-based and era-based approach." The temporary display succeeds.

Bamboo sticks and guns. Or a jamadhar. Hanuman and vaanaras win battles and hearts in their depiction with weapons and on them, in performance forms of present and visual forms of past. At Ram Abhiram, I come across a jamadhar from Udaipur, late 18th century, with a figure of Hanuman made in steel. Displayed diagonally, it's a deadly symbol of power and craftsmanship. Then, vaanaras holding swords, as depicted in 1780 CE Guler style painting, where they are shown charging towards Ravana, but, waiting for Ram to get Dashanand, instead. In another work on paper from Guler style from 18th century, the vaanaras are shown walking towards Ravana's army in a strange blend of harmony and aggression, holding, this time, branches of trees, rocks, a danava by the neck, and giving, sort of, a security cordon and cover to Ram and Lakshmana.

The temple hanging (from Karnataka/Tamil Nadu) is a treasure of visual experience for students of performance - across the broad spectrum of classical, folk and contemporary. It displays extraordinary imagination and execution of thoughts on cotton, in thread work and applique decoration, on its length and breadth. Scenes depicted on the magnificent temple hanging have, not yet, found a parallel in terms of detail, colour and spontaneity, in performance. Some of these scenes are Hanuman showing his real roop behind the acquired roop - of a Brahmin (with an umbrella) in his first meeting with Ram and Lakshman; the sealing of alliance between Ram and Sugreeva in the presence of Agni; Ram pacifying Sugreeva who is shown kicking the bed of Bali; Tara Rushing to Bali in a scene that also shows Sugreeva's coronation; Hanuman in conversation with Sampati; Hanuman in conversation with mountain Mainakam; Hanuman standing and watching a sleeping Ravana; Ram killing Saptatala; Ram kicking the skeleton of Dundhubhi and Hanuman's adventures against Meghnad.

Pale, grey, blues, earthy and white, the temple hanging has remarkable fluidity in figuration, parts of figures undefined by lines in thread, left to a viewer's imagination. Eyes bulging and eyelids white lend bhava, movement and direction to scenes, used, most spectacularly, for Tara, the wife of Bali, in the depiction where she runs to her husband Bali.

Tara is present in the middle, in a row of men of stature, from Valmiki's Kishkinda on the two sides. Tara's presence is clear but understated, form subtle, very much, like her manifestation in Legong Topeng Ramasita, a rendition of several episodes from Ramayana, entwined in Legong Jobog, performed by Ayu Bulan, a dance troupe from Bali, Indonesia at the Ramayana Festival. Much, too, in this presentation is told symbolically, including Sita's abduction and Subali's love for Tara. Legong Jobog's canvas of dance and storytelling lingers between the temple hanging and my viewing of its moving stillness.

Uncannily, both Legong Topeng Ramasita and the temple wall hanging, celebrate imperfections. B Trisna, well known danceguru from Indonesia, who was in Delhi for the Ramayana festival, says, "We, in Indonesia, have been retelling, interpreting and performing the story of Ram since our childhood, and, we have known this story for its beautiful portrayal of human conflicts. Women and men in Ramayana have conflicts and imperfections surrounding them. Imperfections are human. So is Ram. So is Sita. The story of Subali, Sugreeva and Tara is about imperfections, too. Legong Rama Sita is a natural medium to portray these through dance."

The temple hanging includes of depiction of Hanuman coming out of the ear of Surasa. Noteworthy - the disruption shown around Surasa's ear, and Hanuman looking the other way, one hand on his thigh, the other hand holds the raised gadaa - as if, in a balancing act, after pulling himself off the trouble, as he stands on her shoulder. Surasa's teeth are shown not protruding, or mad or falling; they sit in her mouth, like seeds, as if, from a jaw reproduced on a negative in a dark room; mouth open, perhaps, in an arrogant cackle. Between Surasa's mouth and Hanuman's calm, there is ample noise of action.

Hanuman's calm is where the 'Yuddha Kand' in Ram Abhiram departs from its depiction in the Ramayana festival. This departure makes the returning and revisiting of Ram's story from ASEAN countries to India, in events like the Ramayana Festival, very essential for Ram, Hanuman, and their bhaktas. Only Hanuman, with some help from Sugreeva and vaanaras in Ram's army, can make this happen, again and again.