It was in 2014 that I first was asked by my dear friend and director, Bjorn Dahlman to play an ‘Indian mother’ in our devised production ‘Colour Correction’. Much like the untold stories of many ‘Indian mothers’ she remained nameless for a long time, until my fellow actor, Swati das and me came up with the name ‘Kumuda Raman’ as we would engage in funny made- up green room conversations with this character…she waited patiently to have her story heard until this year…when COVID 19 struck and green rooms went silent…
Eight months of this year, my living room has been crowded with the good old companions of fear, anxiety and loneliness and they have refused to go away. Every day, I have gone to bed with the hope that when I wake up they would have respectfully departed…but like Bono sings, “I have held the hand of the devil….” I decided , enough was enough, and sat down for a chat with them… and my oh my, did they have things to say!!!
My beliefs about success, failure, productivity, work, art, theatre, life all hit me like lightning and there was no running away…well, literally there wasnt! And I believe, this is the real and important work I have begun to do as an artist…
It was during this time that Kumuda Raman became a constant companion, friend, guide, voice…whatever you may want to call her…I believe that through the ten episodes of Kumuda Raman, I have had the opportunity to come close to understanding and recognising my own responsibility as an artist. I truly believe that that characters we play can teach us a lot about ourselves and what we want to use our art for.
I recall a conversation with a friend who seemed to assume what Kumuda’s politics would be because she is an upper caste, privileged woman, the quintessential “tamil maami”. I responded saying, “maybe she’s conservative and bigoted in your world, but not in mine.” I recall a story about once such “chitti patti” in my family who had never left her village, leave alone India but who decided to visit her daughter in Canada undertaking a one month ship journey from Chennai (there were no flights then in pre-independent India), without knowing a word of English , wearing a madisaar (the traditional nine yards saree)and carrying but only one bundle of sarees on her back…I realised how much value her story has and how it shamefully brought me face to face with my own assumptions of women’s agencies and feminism.
There has never been a more important or critical time for us to awaken to our responsibilities as artists and use our art to speak truth to power. This is not an option, it is vital. Every story we tell, every song we sing, every character we play, is filled with myriad choices, and we cannot afford to run away from taking responsibility for those choices. Whom we choose to empower, give a voice to, represent, question is all reflected in our art, whether we “choose” it that way or not. It is only by making the choice to be true to our own humanity that we can reclaim our power as an artist in this time that is a constant reminder of the fragile nature of life and death. If we don’t do this, we will not only perish ourselves as artists but also take others down with us.
Here is the link to the ‘Kumuda Raman’ playlist — https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLjMlGTo2caS9yFiyzTXkqWtxGcALKIrp2
