The Mahabharata of Bhasa

The celebrated Sanskrit dramatist's plays, written more than 2,000 years ago, make the great epic more intimate and accessible.

For some time now, Penguin Books India has been bringing classics of Indian literature to an English readership "" in recent months, there have been fine translations of Fakir Mohan Senapati's Six Acres and a Third, Parashuram's short stories and works by Rabindranath Tagore.

The latest in the series travels much further back in time: The Shattered Thigh and Other Plays (translated by A N D Haksar; Rs 200) collects six plays by the great Sanskrit dramatist Bhasa, who lived around 2,000 years ago.

There is no consensus on the exact dates, but it's known that Bhasa preceded Kalidasa, who praised him in the prologue of one of his own plays. (It was a backhanded compliment, however, with Kalidasa asking the rhetorical question "How can the work of the modern poet Kalidasa be more esteemed than that of established worthies than Bhasa?" and then cheekily supplying the answer: "Everything is not more praiseworthy just because it is old.")

The plays included here are all based on episodes in the Mahabharata. From a technical viewpoint, they provide valuable insights into the dramatic tradition that existed in Bhasa's age.

Theatre was a flourishing art form at the time, having evolved beyond recitals of dialogues by bards. Plays employed various combinations of the eight basic emotions (bhava) and flavours (rasa), they were professionally written and performed, and other aspects of stagecraft were well-developed.

In terms of content, the most notable thing about Bhasa's Mahabharata plays is how he uses creative license to extrapolate dialogues and imagine scenes that were not in the original text of the epic, but which are largely consistent with its tone.

This is interesting from a modern standpoint because it's exactly what interpreters of the Mahabharata continue to do more than 2,000 years later "" there are contemporary works (like Pratibha Ray's Yajnaseni) that tell the story through the eyes of a particular character, as well as more conventional translations (such as the one by Kamala Subramaniam) that flesh out the dialogues, often giving them a melodramatic slant that might not have existed in the original. These are all testaments to the fact that the great epic is a living, vibrant thing, not set in stone.

As a long-time admirer of the Mahabharata who has read numerous straightforward translations (written in the distanced third person, and in the past tense), I was struck by how immediate the epic becomes when scenes from it are presented in theatrical form.

Duryodhana: Preceptor, I salute you.

Drona: My child, may you always enjoy the fatigue of a sacrifice well-performed.

Duryodhana: I thank you. Grandfather, I salute you.

Bhishma: Grandson, may your mind always be tranquil like this.

Duryodhana: I thank you. Uncle, I salute you.

Shakuni: Child, may you perform all sacrifices thus, giving away great gifts.

It's one thing to know about the protocol the Pandavas and Kauravas employ while addressing their elders, but quite another thing to experience it in this form. It has the effect of taking us into the characters' living rooms, so to speak, and humanising figures who might seem remote.

Bhasa also recognises how complex the people in the epic are. For instance, Duryodhana is frequently depicted as a noble, generous prince mindful of family honour (he is also the tragic hero of the title play, "Urubhanga") while the usually venerated Bhishma sometimes comes across as manipulative.

The one notable deviation he makes from the original story is in "Pancharatram"("Five Nights"), where Duryodhana agrees to return the kingdom to the Pandavas after their exile, provided their whereabouts can be discovered within five nights.

This play appears to end on a reconciliatory note, but subsequent plays like "Duta Vakyam"("The Envoy") and "Karnabharam" ("Karna's Burden") have the Mahabharata war taking place after all.

Given that much of Bhasa's work has been lost, it's possible to wonder if he had dealt with the epic more comprehensively and if perhaps there were other plays that bridged the gap between the events recounted in "Pancharatram"and in the later plays. Of course, we'll never know.