A woman’s rustic voice sings ballads from an era gone by, her teeth stained red with the paan lodged permanently in her mouth. Her henna laden hands beat the dholak rhythmically into a haunting melody learnt years ago from her mother. The puppets have been carved out from a single piece of wood, large eyes painted wide open, an almost surprised - or perhaps awestruck - expression on their faces. Clad in flowing attire made from scraps of fabric found in a humble household, the puppets dance, inviting the audience into their story.
The frail puppets impersonating mighty historical figures from the forgotten kingdoms lost deep in the sands, now dance vigorously. They are narrating stories of kings and queens, of man-eating alligators and star-crossed lovers. As the beat of the dholak intensifies, the puppets tell stories of robust royal armies at war, now taking positions in the battlefield, the clash of swords, the neighing of excited horses - an army is surrendering to the enemy or another army is surmounting the indomitable.
Rana Pratap Singh of Mewar
Richard Pischel (1849 -1908), a German Indologist, believed puppetry originated in India in ancient times
Behind a makeshift partition, the woman’s husband pulls the strings of the dancing puppets. The puppets sometimes float leisurely in the air, sometimes jumping up and down on the stage, bursting with energy like an acrobat, they expertly convey their message with the help of hand gestures and the slight tilt of their head. This is the Maharaja, this is the Maharani. Oh and here is the mighty Mughal Emperor Akbar the Great, his destiny entirely in the hands of the puppeteer, a symbolism for the ironic fragility of the human condition - for even the powerful. And here in all his grandeur with a string of pearls delicately hanging from his turban is Rana Pratap Singh of Mewar. In their archaic allegory, Empress Nur Jahan dances to the beat of the dhol, as does the alligator that leaps out of the stage to scare a child in the audience. Their tales and fables are all woven into the history of a faraway time.
The art of puppetry is as old as the earliest human societies. In the ancient Indian Subcontinent, an array of kaleidoscopic civilizations was hosted along the many rivers. Remains from the Indus Valley Civilization (2600 BCE-1900 BCE) show that the art of puppetry and puppets have been part of our culture since ancient times. The unique samples of puppets discovered from various Indus Valley sites are profound proof of puppetry’s presence back then. A smug little monkey that climbs a rope up and down, a human figure made of terracotta with detachable, movable arms - both the figurines have holes made in their bodies for strings to pass through. Much as the puppets of today, the strings of those puppets were pulled and manipulated on an ancient stage. In Story Telling And Puppet Traditions In India, Sarma and Singh bring to us repeated examples of puppetry’s ancient origins in the Indian Subcontinent. The Mahabharata, rich in knowledge on the cultural traditions of ancient Indian civilization, mentions the art of puppetry, the puppets and puppeteers. In another ancient treatise by Patanjali (2nd century BCE), puppets are mentioned.
Puppet from the Indus Valley Civilization era
Legend has it that one day Shiva and his wife Parvati saw two dolls in a doll-maker’s shop. They transcended into the body of the dolls and played with them for a while. But as they went back from the dolls’ bodies, the dolls now lifeless, fell down inert on the floor. The doll-maker heartbroken, protested at the unfairness of this. Parvati retorted that it was the doll-maker who had made the dolls, it was now for him to make them sing and dance again. The doll-maker thus learnt the art of pulling strings and bringing his dolls to life. Bankim Chandra Chattapodhya refers to Tamil literature, from the 2nd century BCE probably to a Tamil Classic Silappatikaram which mentions dolls on strings. Richard Pischel (1849 -1908), a German Indologist, believed puppetry originated in India in ancient times.
We find its affirmation in another legend. Thousands of years ago, the first puppeteer of the world was a celestial being sent to the Earth by Brahma. Carol R. Exner in her book Practical Puppetry A-Z says Brahma created Adi Nat, a puppeteer, by his breath to entertain his wife Saraswati. Adi Nat was eventually sent to the Earth to entertain and educate the humans there. Adi Nat came to Earth and became the first puppeteer, educating and entertaining people through stories enacted by his puppets. As time passed a whole tribe was created of Adi Nat’s descendants. Many millennia later this is how the Nat Bhatt, a sub tribe of the Bheel in the region of Mewar, trace their origins.
Mewar is placed in the southern-central part of the present-day Rajasthan State of India. It is a region consisting of a varied topography, where the northern and eastern parts are sloping plains with several rivulets running their short routes, pouring their waters into the great Chambal river. The southern and western parts are undulating hills peppered with dense forests and celebrating their own rivers like the Mahi and the Sabarmati, eventually running through Gujarat into the Gulf of Khambhat. The northwestern boundary of the region is protected by the Aravalli mountain range, where the mountains are made of marble and the Kota stone. Here is where the Nat Bhatts wandered for centuries - singing songs, making their puppets dance and carrying on tales and fables from thousands of years ago. It is an act almost sacred to them, a ritual which has become an intrinsic part of their being. They create their puppets with love and affection, They dress them in flowing robes like those of kings and queens, they make the monster puppet of the man-eating alligator. Armed with their creations, they wander through villages with their ballads of love and longing, singing along the beat of the dhol, expertly pulling the strings of the puppets, entertaining, educating their audience, narrating history, carrying lessons on chivalry and ethics embedded in their stories.
Anil Chandra is a retired PR and Publicity professional. He also taught Media Studies and Traditional Media was part of the course. Puppetry, according to him, was an important part of advertising and propagating knowledge in ancient times. In his encounters with the puppeteers, he picked up fascinating stories from the community. The puppeteers would often recount history as they learned it from their ancestors in Mewar.
400 Bheels and Nat Bhatts, the puppeteers of Mewar, who had fought in the battlefield as archers with the army of Rana Pratap Singh, were heartbroken
Emperor Akbar had waged war on the Kingdom of Mewar. In the summer of 1576, one of the fiercest battles of Akbar’s reign was fought at the battlefield of Haldighati, where Rana Pratap Singh of Mewar finally lost his kingdom to the Mughals. Emperor Akbar’s Rajput General, Raja Man Singh of Amber, led a 10,000-strong army. For three hours the two armies battled until Mughal General Man Singh walked into Mewar, proclaiming Mughal hegemony.
400 Bheels and Nat Bhatts, the puppeteers of Mewar, who had fought in the battlefield as archers with the 3,000-man army of Rana Pratap Singh, were heartbroken. In their anguish they decided to move and vowed never to return until their king, Rana Pratap Singh, was restored to the throne. With a heavy heart the Nat Bhatts walked out of Mewar - with their puppets, with their melodious ballads and with their eclectic history, all packed carefully along with their belongings and carried and nurtured through their travels in history.
The Nat Bhatts walked to lands far away from their beloved Mewar, but kept their art and tradition alive. The stories evolved, the songs got new meaning, but their plight stayed deep in their hearts. They sang, they danced their puppets and they brought lessons in history and ethics to their ever-changing audience.
In Pakistan, the Nat Bhatts and Bheels wander mainly in the Thar desert. Economic necessities sometimes bring them to the cities where they set up temporary homes.
Their stories are half lost in time. Their ballads are more nostalgic of a culture lost to them than anything else. With a wide variety of entertainment now available almost free of charge, when smart phones and satellites have brought a variety of choices for amusement to ordinary people at their doorstep, when history read is selective and hardly anyone now is interested in Emperor Akbar or Rana Pratap Singh and their wars, the audiences of these ancient artistes are now ever so scarce.
The talented, pan chewing, Dulari and her dexterous husband, Jameel the puppeteer, now lament the system instead of Emperor Akbar. They lament the fact that artisans like them have no patronage. They lament the society which is oblivious of their plight. It is only rarely that they now perform.
