Drama Companies of Bellary (

Drama Companies of Bellary (Part 1)

[[Drama Companies of Bellary (Part 1) Source: prekshaa]]

Circa 1909, the drama company Sumanorama Sabhā (or Suguṇavilāsa Sabhā) of Bellary arrived in Bangalore. Kolachalam Srinivasa Rao was the director of that drama company. He was an advocate. It was Sāhukār Netkallappa ¹ who helped the company by making arrangements for them in Bangalore.

Citranaḻīyamu

At that time, the passion for drama in Bellary was intense. Several educated young men and women would gather at the theatre. Sarasa Vinodini Sabhā was established a little earlier than the aforementioned Sumanorama Sabhā. I’m recalling the names of the sabhās from memory; it’s possible that the names were different.

Sarasa Vinodini Sabhā was established by the honourable Dharmavaram Krishnamacharya. He was an advocate and had gained fame from his expertise in Sanskrit and Telugu. Among his plays the most popular was Citranaḻīyamu. It is the story of Naḻa-Damayantī. In this play, Krishnamacharya has proffered his poetic ingenuity to the public using a variety of kanda-vṛttas ² and songs. It is a lovely play. It had a charming style. While enacting the play, Krishnamacharya himself would play the role, probably that of Bāhuka, the character assumed by Emperor Naḻa when he lives incognito. The manner in which he enacted his role pleased the audience a great deal. Some poems in Citranaḻīyamu were composed keeping in mind the alignment of even the names of the rāgas with corresponding emotions. I’m unaware if people have kept such a lovely play in circulation over the last fifty years. However, I believe that it is a play that deserves to be in circulation at all times.

Raghavacharya

Dharmavaram Krishnamacharya’s nephew was the renowned T Raghavacharya. He was a BA, BL graduate and an acclaimed advocate. Along with his profession, he had cultivated the hobby of acting in dramas. Bellary’s T Raghavacharya was the foremost among talented actors of English dramas written by English poets and playwrights like Shakespeare.

Raghavacharya was the main artist of the Sumanorama Sabhā. The fact that he joined Kolachalam Srinivasa Rao’s drama company instead of his uncle’s seemed mischievous to some. However, I do not think there was any real basis for such criticism.

Kolachalam Srinivasa Rao

Kolachalam Srinivasa Rao was deeply learned in Andhra and Sanskrit literature. He belonged to the lineage of Kolachalam Mallinatha Suri—renowned as ‘Vyākhyāta Śiromaṇi’—who wrote commentaries on the works of Kālidāsa. Srinivasa Rao’s elder brother Kolachalam Venkata Rao went to England and returned a barrister. I’ve heard the same about his children. Venkata Rao earned a great deal and with that he built a town hall and a public library among other charitable activities for his town.

Srinivasa Rao, on the other hand, was attracted to music and literature. He has written a few books as well. He authored a large treatise in English titled History of the Drama. One of his well-known works in Telugu is Vijayanagara Patanamu (The Fall of Vijayanagar). The power of his sentence construction and his expertise in prose is evident in that work. He was not only a scholar but also a generous soul. He did not care for money. He helped those who sought financial or other support but without ever making them feel embarrassed or uncomfortable. He showed compassion without anyone’s request. Srinivasa Rao was that noble.

If there were twenty actors in his drama company, there would be another forty friends around. Sāhukār Netkallappa provided sumptuous meals, snacks, bedding, blankets, and so forth for all these people.

Bangalore Camp

The company’s main camp was Sītārāma Mandira building that was to the east of the Anjaneya Temple near the eye hospital at Bangalore Fort and another one, to the west of Tipu Sultan’s Summer Palace. In addition, there was another big building at Sultanpete. It was thus arranged in three locations. Among the prominent people in the company at that time were not only Srinivasa Rao and Raghavacharya, but also Kurnool Rama Rao, Vattam Shama Rao, Vattam Srinivasa Rao, Chidambara Rao, and other aficionados. An incident comes to mind.

One night, the Prahlāda play was being performed. In that, Hiraṇyakaśipu’s wife—Kayādu or something—cradles the child Prahlāda. She then sings a song:

ಸುಕುಮಾರಾ ಗುಣಶಾಲೀ
ಅಕಲಂಕಾ ನಯಶಾಲೀ॥

O delicate one, endowed with virtues
Blemishless one, endowed with wisdom

This song (probably sung in rāga Ānandabhairavi) was really charming. The role was played by Kurnool Rama Rao ³.

At around nine or ten the next morning, eight to ten friends stood in a row on the edge of the street opposite to Netkallappa’s house in Sultanpete (near the place that housed S R Nanjudayya’s school); their stare was fixed in front of them. In the building on the opposite side, standing alone on the first floor verandah with his hands on the railing was Kurnool Rama Rao. His arm was resting on the railing; cupping his beard, once in his right hand, then in his left, he was turning his face to the right for a minute and then for a minute to the left. Rama Rao did not appear to notice the row of eight to ten people on the opposite side of the street. And as for those eight to ten people, they looked at nothing but Rama Rao’s face. About five minutes would have passed thus. A friend had observed this from a distance. A few minutes later, this friend came there and asked, “What’s this? Have you become dumbfounded? Rama Rao is a male. Should you lose your mind like this over his lovely face?”

These eight to ten people who had been dumbstruck felt even more bewildered and went away feeling bashful.

Another drama organization from Bellary was a group called Student Education Society. Amongst those prominent in the group, Vattam Shama Rao was highly esteemed.

Vattam Shama Rao

Vattam Shama Rao was a good connoisseur. His English diction and his choice of words in English were lovely. He loved humour. I distinctly remember an occasion when he explained an English comic verse.

Old mother Hubbard
Went to a cupboard

• To fetch her poor doggie a bone.*
  But when she went there
  The Cupboard was bare
• So the poor doggie had none.*

His commentary on this verse – “Old mother – and note, she was a mother and not a father nor a brother… And she was old, not young and youthful, How pathetic! …” saying all these things, he would regale us by imitating the style of the commentator, giving excessive details. While explaining this, his voice modulation and transformation, mimicry, pursing of the lips like the aged, and his mimicking of the female voice – would make us burst out with laughter.

Kolachalam’s drama company would perform several plays in Bangalore in a time period of over a month. Vijayanagara Patana was performed five or six times. In that Raghavacharya donned the role of Rustum. It was a major attraction for the public. Raghavacharya’s facial expressions and eye-acting would touch everyone’s hearts. He would not only play roles of vīra (valour) and raudra (fury, anger) but also hāysa (comic). By nature, he loved humour and was a cheerful soul.

To be concluded.

This is the first part of the translation of the twelfth essay in D V Gundappa’s magnum-opus Jnapakachitrashaale (Volume 7) – Hrudaya Sampannaru. Edited by Hari Ravikumar.

Footnotes

Drama Companies of Bellary (Part 2)

[[Drama Companies of Bellary (Part 2) Source: prekshaa]]

Kumbāra Guṇḍayya (Guṇḍayya, the Potter)

In one of the plays – probably ‘Vijayanagara Patana’ – one of the characters is a potter. That day Raghavacharya beckoned me and told me to sit in the first row, just next to stage. I declined. He insisted I sit there compulsorily. “If you don’t sit there, I will have to call out your name loudly and make you come there. It will be an unnecessary fuss.” Thus he cajoled me. I sat there as per his instruction.

A little later Raghavacharya came on stage wearing the costume of potter Guṇḍayya. The potter was my namesake and hence all that respect. Then was Raghavacharya’s song –

ಇದ್ದರು ಆಡೊಲ್ಲ ಪೆಂಡ್ಲಾಟ ಸೇಸ್ಕೊಂಟಿ
ಹಗಸಾಟ್ಲು ಪಡಲೇನು ಹಯಬಸವ

Singing this and pointing his finger at me he would say “Kumbāra Guṇḍayya!”

Raghavacharya had no training in music. There was no character whatsoever to his tunes. As the throat screamed and the mind saw fit, so was the tune. We had to imagine the pitch of the note from his finger signs. But then, his roles did not have much of music in them. As a comic relief, if the audience laughed at sentences such as above, he would also feel happy.

Raghavacharya’s sense of dressing was also similar. Generally, he used to wear a fashionable coat, trousers and a necktie. Just that on his head, there would be a muslim-type hat, sometimes a Punjabi turban – any costume he wore was befitting and looked natural.

Once while donning the selfsame ‘Pathan’ Rustum costume, in twirling the moustache, one half of it came off onto his hand. Immediately, holding it in front of him, he addressed it thus – “Hey wretched moustache, what use are thou? This useless thing leads to ruin…” So saying, he plucked out the other half. He was full of such ingenuity.

Farewell

During the final performances of the drama in Bangalore, Kolachalam called me and said, “Raghavachari will get into a train in an hour to leave for Tadapatri. There is a wire just now saying his mother has taken ill. Would you, before he leaves, speak a few words about him?”

I agreed gladly and spoke a few words. Raghavacharya returned to his place and wrote a letter of gratitude. He opened up his heart in it. From then on, our intimacy grew.

Raghavacharya’s sister is the wife of my dear friend Anoor Venkatacharya of Kolar. Our friendship grew due to this reason too.

Two days before Kolachalam’s company left Bangalore, there was a big meeting at the theatre. On behalf of the citizens of Bangalore, a scroll of appreciation was proffered. It was a printed document. In it was praised the innate rasa present in Kolachalam Srinivasa Rao’s dramas and the theatrical talent of the acting group. There was also a reference to the benevolence of Sāhukār Netkallappa. That celebration brought great joy to all of us.

CDA

Around 1900, people from the Telugu region bordering the Mysore province used to come to Bangalore for higher studies. These Andhrites hailed from Bellary, Ananthpur, Kurnool, and other districts. These students had established an association called Ceded Districts Association (CDA). Beldoni Bhima Rao was one among them who was well known. As a famous advocate, as a people’s leader, and as a member of the Madras Legislative Assembly, he was a spearhead for Karnataka’s agitation. People from this association used to perform dramas now and then in Bangalore; mostly English plays. This is how Bellary’s Raghavacharya and his friends got the Bangalore connection; from what I understand, this was the beginning.

That association had established a library too. I have seen some of its books.

The association was of students who came from Andhra. But it included some people who were from Bangalore. One among those was K Bhima Rao, who was a chemist in the agricultural department. He was a student of Central College; Telugu was his mother tongue. An upright man. He was a dear friend of many of us. There was intimate friendship between him and Bellary Raghavacharya.

ADA

Over time, there was a decrease in the number of students from ceded districts in Bangalore. To fill the gap of that association at the time was born Amateur Dramatic Association (ADA). This association brought joy to people by performing English, Telugu, and Kannada plays during the period 1920–25.

I mention here a few of the important activities undertaken by the association.

1. Lalita-kalā-mahotsava – We had invited Ravindranath Tagore for this.
2. For the second conference we had invited Smt. Sarojini Naidu.
3. The third time around, we invited Cattimanchi Ramalinga Reddy.
4. Working towards reducing hardship due to spread of influenza around 1918.
5. Going to Mysore to perform plays.
6. Some Kannada publications (I remember Kailasam’s Ṭoḻḻu-gaṭṭi being one of them).
7. Organizing music performances.
8. Kālidāsa jayanti and other festivals.

In all these activities the main participants were Bellary Raghavacharya and K Bhima Rao; along with them were Motor Raghavachar, Bindiganavale Raghavachar, a person named Vasu, Venkatasubbayya, Venkoba Rao from the agricultural department, P Kodanda Rao, Himanshu Srinivasa Shastri, and many other gentlemen. Not all of them were actors. Only some wore costumes. The rest were participating in literary and social activities.

Motor Raghavachar was an Āndhra Śrīvaṣṇava. There were two interpretations of his ‘motor’ nickname – one was apparent, he was running a motor service; the second was a secret one – a tease that his voice was akin to that of a motor. He was a courteous and gentle person.

Bindiganavale Raghavacharya was a Hebbār Śrīvaṣṇava. He had a copious moustache. He too was a friendly soul.

Kodanda Rao

I feel I should make a special mention of Kodanda Rao. During 1917–18, he was a lecturer at Central College. Even then, his natural interest was in national service and public service. I have seen with my own eyes the efforts he undertook during the time of influenza outbreak. Filling and capping with corks small bottles with thymol medicinal syrup for patients, pasting labels on them, getting ravè-gañji prepared, filling them up in right measure in bottles, capping those bottles; and then filling separate buckets with these medicinal bottles and ravè-gañji bottles, carrying these two buckets in each hand, going to various areas like Akkipete, Balepete, Ranasinghpete, enquiring the number of patients there, what their ages are, what their needs are, what their pains and problems are; and then comforting everyone, encouraging them, offering medicine and gañji; if necessary massaging their hands and legs, dusting their clothes, bringing the doctor – Kodanda Rao often gratified himself by performing many such services, like a sacred vow. He toiled thus not for name, not for getting elected into office, not for fame in the media. It was only to satisfy his soul, to serve the nation – reward for goodness is within the heart; a sense of fulfilment for doing what ought to be done. The colleagues of Kodanda Rao could have learnt this lesson.

Ramaprasad

I feel I have to remember the name of another young man who toiled at that time in aid of the public good. He is B K Ramaprasad, the electrical engineer. He was an MSc. student at Central College at that point. One day, his employment was arranged at the patients’ camp in Chikka Lalbagh. The job was that of a watchman – enquiring after all patients now and then, fetching a doctor’s help in case of an emergency, and supplying food and drinks. This being the arrangement, once, a patient was groaning. Our Ramaprasad was busy with a file, doing some accounts work. The patient who had been groaning breathed his last. Ramaprasad didn’t realised this. He was absorbed in his work. A couple of minutes after the groaning stopped, Ramaprasad went there, saw the man, and was startled. He had not encountered death yet. He was too young. After realising what happened, his sorrow knew no bounds. He was such a tender-hearted, noble person. Much later, he became a great scholar and was among the youth who brought laurels to the country.

During the later days too, the Amateur Drama Association carried out several valuable activities. It appeared that they went into slumber for a few years after that. I’m delighted to hear that recently there have been efforts to resurrect it.

Concluded.

This is the second part of the translation of the twelfth essay in D V Gundappa’s magnum-opus Jnapakachitrashaale (Volume 7) – Hrudaya Sampannaru. Edited by Hari Ravikumar.