Anchoring a cultural reformation

Theatre is his forte. Film is his passion. Acting is in his blood. His writing is a manifestation of a literary expression which critics say has innovatively transgressed the disciplinary boundaries. This indefatigable and talented playwright, a stage and film director, a loyal politician and an intellectual in true sense, Bratya Basu is mesmerizingly waging a cultural revolution in the community with his colossal artistic endeavours for the past two decades.

Virginia Woolf once exclaimed, "How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn't pull the trigger!" Perhaps this ingrained desperation compelled Bratya to pick up his pen in 1996 to write 'Ashaleen' (Vulgar), a play theoreticians call post-modern in its approach. Like the theatre's Sisyphean performance, he went on writing till 2008. In 2009, his play 'Ruddhasangeet' on famous Rabindrasangeet exponent Debabrata Biswas was his immediate sensation. After that there was no looking back. Bratya's arrival filled the cultural void formed after the demise of great thespians like Utpal Dutt, Badal Sircar and Mohit Chattopadhyay. So, winning Sahitya Akademi Award 2021 for his book, 'Mir Jafar O Onyanyo Natak' — an anthology of three plays — cannot be more felicitous, at the apogee of his creative career. It is really a proud moment for Bengali theatre. Bratya Basu has become the second Bengali playwright to clinch Sahitya Akademi Award after Buddhadeb Basu who received the award for his verse play 'Tapaswi O Tarangini' way back in 1967.

Basu's literary oeuvre consists of more than fifty plays of multi-layered narratives on varied subjects encompassing interpersonal relationships, sexuality, gender politics, political ideologies, democracy, biography, thriller and other themes of historical relevance, apart from several poetries, essays and a novel. His adaptations of plays range from John Middleton Synge, Peter Shaffer, Shibram Chakraborty, John Wexley, William Shakespeare, Marius Von Mayenburg, Oedipus and Euripides to Indian author Rajshekhar Basu and Sanskrit scholar Banavatta. He has directed over 20 plays that have won several important accolades. He has acted in more than 15 plays on stage, besides numerous appearances in cinemas — winning several memorable awards for his outstanding acting. He has so far authored more than 20 books, besides three full volumes of his anthology of plays — 'Mir Jafar O Onyanyo Natak' being 14th in the list. Among his other books which are yet to be published is his first full-length Bengali novel on theatre, 'Adamritakatha'. He has also edited a lot of books besides being the chief editor of his famous annual theatre journal, 'Bratyajon Natyapatra'. He has already written and directed four films. His latest film, Dictionary has won the Gautama Buddha Award for best international feature film at Nepal International Film Festival, 2021.

A still from 'Akdin Aladin'

His three plays in 'Mir Jafar O Onyanyo Natak' are different in many senses and sensibilities. The first play of the book, 'Akdin Aladin', is his ideation from the middle-eastern folk tale of Aladdin and the magic lamp. It's a politico-cultural satire deeply rooted in West Bengal. The play lays bare the manifold increase in agenda-based relationships and degrading political ethics crippling young minds, which is responsible for the change in socio-behavioural pattern of a community. Madhab, an aspiring Prime Ministerial candidate, communicates regularly with his old confidante, his deceased friend Satya, 'the truth' in his utopian dream. Aligning Satya perfectly as Madhab's alter ego, the playwright draws out a contrast in our humanistic moral duties with the present political ethos. Satya presents Madhab a magic lamp that denounces a person of his fake motive. The more the lamp unearths the bleak reality, frustrated Madhab cannot hide his bewilderments.

A still from 'Ami Anukulda ar Ora'

'Ami Anukulda ar Ora' is the author's surreal invasion into near-death experience of Somesh, a middle-class soul, ruminating over his botched childhood, failed ambition, fractured marriage and his daily chores that kept him floating, with his old friend, a commoner Anukul. Somesh, in his subconscious, faces a deep psychological torment once his teenage daughter appears before him. She, being aborted early, actually failed to see the light of the world. The sense of guilt makes him mournful. But again, when his own daughter plays a second Juliet in his life, he is thunderstruck. In the concluding scene, when the God of death finally appears, a fierce fight breaks out with the dying man putting all his resistance from being taken away. Bratya's protagonist admits of experiencing the hellish trauma in his life, yet, he finds it worth living for a minority class. This contemplation of the author on the importance of a middle-class life with values and contradictions amidst negativities is his sense of universality of a class of people around the world.

Bratya Basu as Lord Clive in 'Mir Jafar'

The third in the series and very honestly calibrated, 'Mir Jafar' is a period piece which captures a less known time of history, between 1757 and 1764 — after the battle of Plassey. Showcasing the era as a period of absolute lawlessness, debauchery, turpitude and personal gain and vendetta, Basu elaborates how Mir Jafar became a party to a cluster of heinous traitors, responsible for the downfall of the last free Indian kingdom. East India Company cunningly exploited the situation to make a hassle-free entry to India. Hence, Bratya's Mir Jafar claims, "They all call me a traitor! ……no, I was not the only one, many others have done the same thing ……because, I am that cheap and ghastly defector who could neither take Siraj's side nor favoured the British ……Therefore, if you take someone's side you will not be a traitor and then you may even enjoy Khuda's blessings!" Bratya's years of historical research throws back the echoes of some intriguing construction of Indian history, Mir Jafar — the traitor.

The author's creativity thus has the originality in both his context and ideology, which is never rootless, arbitrary or submissively volatile to external influences. Besides this exemplary work of literature, he has some more world-class plays all of which are yet to be staged. One of the most striking plays among them is 'Antim Raat' (The Final Night), a drawing room drama involving Mohammed Ali Jinnah, his sister Fatema and his daughter Dina on the eve of India's Independence Day. The beauty of the play is its fourth most important character, Jinnah's deceased wife Ruttie, who remains unseen but is thoroughly ubiquitous. The drama unfolds a lot of layers — both personal and political — as the cultured trio agree to differ in many aspects of life. Here the playwright relooks at the political debate of nationalism over humanity in his play. 'Rani Creusa' (Creusa, The Queen), on the other hand, originates from Euripides's play that fashions a rare stoicism in the Queen signifying the strength of womanhood. While it unsettles the patriarchal power equilibrium of a kingdom, the power fraternity is left with no other option but to approach the court of justice. Here the courtroom farce is worth noting, which in many ways resembles the current democratic upheaval of our country. These two plays decode the author's disposition towards gender equality in a progressive society. His range of erudition as a playwright reflects in many of his recent plays – 'Coronar Dingulite Prem' (Love in the days of Corona), 'Matsyanyaya' and 'Fyodor'. 'Matsyanaya' is an intricate classic play based on Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus and Banavatta's Harshcharita. Fyodor is another epic biographical play on litterateur Fyodor Dostoyevsky, which speaks the mind of a real author. Bratya's book, 'Berin Taranger Nitol Mukta O Prabal' is also another invaluable tribute to world's ten leading poets' literary works and their personal lives in the perspective of their political and social environments.

Though Bratya's decision to stay away from the stage will surely cause an emptiness in the aesthetic emotions of theatre, but I am sure his passionate pain and a calm detachment will liberate him more in his edifying odyssey, like the way Gandhiji expressed, "I want a house with all its windows and doors open where the cultural breezes of all lands and nations blow through my house. But I refuse to be blown off my feet by any."

Views expressed are personal