Chandigarh, September 23rd : The fourth Day of ongoing Chandigarh theatre Festival saw the play of Girish Karnad’s “Bikhre Bimb” which is among the most successful plays produced recently in India. The play has seen more than 100 shows and has been invited for staging at all major festivals of India. Arundhati Nag’s masterly portrayal of two characters in a skillfully conceived plot has won her accolades and awards. Girish Karnad has directed the play along with the young K M Chaitanya, who has also made a name for himself in Kannada films and Television.
The one-act one-performer play tells the story of Manjula Nayak, a professor of English literature who has been an unsuccessful writer in Kannada. She finds international acclaim when she writes a novel in English, which becomes a bestseller. The story starts with her introducing the audience to her novel in a TV studio, prior to a film on it is telecast. After she finishes her introduction, she is confronted by her own image on the screen which poses questions on betrayal of her language and identity when she chooses to write in English.
Playwright’s note:- Bikhre Bimb — Playwright’s note
The twenty-first century is the age of the electronic image. From every corner of our world, electronic images fling themselves at us, entertaining, educating, enticing, offering us a virtual world of global dimensions to immerse ourselves in. The very notion of a private self seems threatened by this onslaught from outside. But suppose the most vociferous of these images were one’s own?
Manjula Nayak is a not very successful Kannada short-story writer. She suddenly becomes wealthy and internationally famous by writing a best-seller in English. The question haunting Manjula is whether in thus opting for the global audience she has betrayed her own language and identity. A little-known face in Karnataka, she has now acquired an international image. And inherited problems of loyalty and betrayal.
And, without warning, it’s her own image that decides to play confessor, psychologist and inquisitor.
….for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter…..