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Authors: Sunil Gangopadhyay

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BOOK: First Light
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Chapter XXXIX

Chaitanya Leela
was followed by a series of religious plays—
Prahlad Charitra, Nimai Sanyas, Prabhas Yagna
and
Buddhadev Charit
—but none of them did well at the box office. The spectators dwindled in number so alarmingly that the manager and cast were forced to admit that Girish Ghosh had lost his touch. After his involvement with Ramkrishna he refused to write on subjects other than the religious.
Chaitanya Leela
had entertained while evoking religious sentiments. But the ones that followed, they admitted among themselves, were as dry as dust.

At length even Girish Ghosh had to sit up and take notice. He had hoped that his
Buddhadev Charit,
based on Edwin Arnold's
Light of Asia,
would bring in the audience. But though the songs gained popularity, the play didn't. Girish was very disappointed. He had taken great pains with it and Sir Edwin Arnold, while on a visit to Calcutta, had seen it and praised it. Yet it failed to enthuse the general public.

One day Girish Ghosh entered Ramkrishna's room to find him telling his disciples a story. It was about a religious charlatan and he was enacting the character with such vitality and humour that his audience was convulsed with laughter. At that moment an idea came to Girish. He would write a story based on the life of Bilwamangal. It would have a moral ending but the focus of the play would be on the love between Bilwamangal and Chintamoni. The play was written and staged within a few days with Amritalal playing Bilwamangal and Binodini Chintamoni. It became extremely popular. The HOUSE FULL sign, which had been collecting dust for so many months, was hung up every evening. The Star had come into its own again.

But Binodini was not happy. The press was enthusiastic but not about her. The columns were full of praise for Gangamoni who played a madwoman and sang her way n to people's hearts. Binodini got only two rounds of applause whereas Gangamoni got eleven. Binodini's disappointment gradually worked itself up
into a terrible fury. She couldn't bear the thought that Gangamoni, a plain, middle-aged strumpet who played maids and aunts in other plays, was outstripping her, Binodini, the acknowledged queen of the theatre world! It was insupportable. She was convinced that Girish Ghosh had deliberately given Gangamoni the better part to spite her.

One evening, after the first bell had sounded, one of the actresses tiptoed up to Amritalal and told him in a whisper that Binodini hadn't donned her costume or put on her make-up. Amritalal came rushing into the green room to find her sitting on a stool in front of her mirror in an attitude of complete lethargy. Shocked and anxious he cried, ‘Why aren't you getting ready, Binod? Do you feel unwell?' Binodini looked up. Her eyes held his, unwavering, for a few moments. Then, turning away, she said, ‘Stop the show. I'm not appearing tonight.' Amritalal was not unprepared for a scene of this kind. Binodini had been acting very oddly of late. But he felt uneasy. Girish Ghosh had left and he would have to deal with her all by himself. He would have to get her back to the stage by a combination of flattery, persuasion and threats. He wondered if he would succeed. Sidling up close to her he placed a hand on her back. ‘You don't know what you're saying, Binod,' he said making his voice as sweet as honey. ‘How can we stop the show? The hall is so packed—there's no room for a pin. Take a peek if you don't believe me. People have come from far and near to see you. They've spent a lot of money.'

‘Return their money. I'm going home.'

‘We'll have to give them a reason.'

‘I don't wish to appear tonight.' Binodini stood up and flashed her eyes arrogantly at Amritalal. ‘That's reason enough. Don't my wishes count for anything? Who created Star? It was I, Binodini Dasi, who procured the money. I sold my body to do it. Have you forgotten that already?'

‘I haven't forgotten,' Amritalal replied humbly. He had heard these words so often in the last few months that he was sick of them. But, making a prodigious effort, he bared his teeth in a smile and said ingratiatingly, ‘How can I forget what you've done for us all? You're Star and Star is you. But surely that doesn't mean that we can let down our spectators upon a whim. They are our gods. We are pledged to serve them and not to serve is to sin.'

‘You keep saying the same thing over and over again. But my mind is made up. I'm not acting tonight. In fact I'm not acting in
Bilwamangal
any more. The shows must stop.'

‘Are you crazy?' Amritalal was so shocked that he shouted the words at her. ‘The play is a hit. We're making good money.'

‘
Chaitanya Leela
was a hit too. You can start running it. Or
Daksha Yagna.
'

‘Those plays have had a long run. Who will see them again?
Bilwamangal
has just started making waves. People are flocking to the theatre. This is no time to stop.'

‘Look here Bhuni Dada. I don't like
Bilwamangal
and I've told you I shan't act in it. But I may consider changing my mind on one condition. Get that slut Gangamoni out. In fact cut out the part. Are you ready to do it?'

Amritalal sighed and said, ‘Who am I to cut out any part? Have you forgotten that the play has a writer and a director? Could you have made such a demand on Girish Babu? Besides, this is the best play he's written. And it has been written for you. Consider the depth of the character you're portraying. Consider the length of the part. People clap for Gangamoni because they're amused by the funny songs she sings and the faces she makes. But it is your part that they'll remember forever.'

‘That's nonsense,' Binodini cut in sharply. ‘We both know that our guru wrote Ganga's part with the intention of humiliating me. And you're all in the plot. Do you think you can get rid of me this way?'

‘I don't know what has got into you Binod. Why should we wish to get rid of you? You're our best, our most valued asset. Don't we all know that it is you who pulls the crowds? But there's something you must understand. We are players. Our job is to work together and make a success of whatever role is given to us. We have no right to interfere with the playwright's work or make demands on him. Look at me. I accept any part. I don't complain even if it's a small one—a servant's or a thief's.'

‘The theatre was built with my money. You didn't even name it after me—'

‘That's an old story. What's the sense in raking it up now? There! That's the second bell. Put on your costume like a good girl and—'

‘I've told you my condition. Cut out Ganga's part. From tonight—'

Amritalal's patience was at an end. ‘No' he said firmly, ‘I won't cut it out. In fact I won't change a word. Her role will remain exactly as it is. If you're determined not to play tonight I'll make the announcement and return the ticket money. I'll tell the audience that Binodini does not wish to act in
Bilwantangal
any more.' Amritalal rose. Binodini's face crumpled like a scolded child's. ‘Wait Bhuni Dada,' she called after him. ‘I'll play the role. But just for tonight. This business has got to be thrashed out. I won't allow anyone to humiliate me.'

The matter was reported to Girish Ghosh in due course. ‘Tch! Tch!' he clicked his tongue in derision. ‘Envy!' he cried contemptuously. ‘it's plain and simple envy. These theatre sluts are all the same. Can't bear it if someone else gets a few claps. An actress of Binodini's stature feels threatened when a paltry whore like Gangamoni gets a bit of applause! It's unbelievable!
Striyascharitram
!'

Next morning he sent for Binodini, ‘It amazes me Binod,' he said, ‘that a great artist tike you, one who has been the reigning queen of the theatre for so many years, cannot overcome your fascination for a few claps. Haven't I told you about the famous English actress Ellen Terry? She didn't get a single clap when she acted Lady Macbeth. The spectators were terrified of her. Yet they couldn't forget her. Out of all her performances that was the best and most memorable. Don't you remember what Bankim Babu said when he came to see, um, what was it—? Ah yes,
Mrinalini.
His own
Mrinalini.
Seeing you play Monorama he exclaimed, “But this is a real, living Monorama! Far superior to the one I created.” A compliment of this sort from Bankim Babu is not to be taken lightly. You don't know your calibre as an actress, Binod. That is why you need constant reassurance. Let me tell you something. When I created Chintamoni it was your face that floated before my eyes. But what you've made of her goes far beyond the pages of my script.'

Binodini was mollified for the time being and the shows went on as usual. But her frustration and discontent kept smouldering within her erupting, suddenly, from time to time. Gradually her colleagues started finding her intolerable. Her tempers and
tantrums; her whims and sulks; her total disregard of theatre discipline and her constant harping on the fact that it was with her money that Star had been purchased were getting on everyone's nerves. Girish Ghosh felt it too but even in his indignation and disgust he could find a ripple of sympathy. The girl had sacrificed her own self interest for the collective good. There was no doubt of that. ‘Bini,' he said to her one day, ‘I'm writing a play called
Bellik Bazar.
It's full of fun, music and laughter. No more religion and morality for a good long while. You shall be playing Rangini. The spectators like to see you in gorgeous costumes singing, dancing and coquetting. You'll get so many claps—your ears will burst.'

‘From Nimai and Chintamoni to Rangini!' one of the bit actors commented snidely, ‘What a come down!' ‘We have to save the theatre, don't we?' Girish Ghosh snapped. ‘What good will ideals do when we're all starving to death? Bini is a great actress. She acted Bilasini and Nimai at the same time, didn't she? A few light roles for the present will do her good. I'll get her on to serious ones again.'

Bellik Bazar
was a success and Binodini got all the applause she wanted. Her anger had simmered down and, to the ordinary eye, all seemed to be as before. But there were changes in her personality that didn't go unnoticed. Amritalal saw, to his surprise, that she, who had always used the lightest make up possible, was covering her face with layers of powder—not only during performances but during rehearsals. Around the same time rumours started going round that a white spot had appeared on Bini's chin which might be leucoderma. Binodini had always kept herself aloof from Gangamoni but now she started avoiding Bhushan Kumari, Kshetramoni and all the other women as well. She started coming in late for rehearsals and leaving early. Sometimes she wouldn't make an appearance at all. Her absence at rehearsals didn't affect her own acting but it created problems for the others. Girish Ghosh was wild with fury when, coming in one day, he found her missing. ‘Who does she think she is?' he thundered, ‘The Lady Vicereigne? Come Bhuni. Let's go to her house and drag the little bitch in here by the hair.' Then, seeing Amritalal hesitate he cried angrily, ‘What's wrong with you? You look as if I'm pushing you into a lion's den. Are you that scared of

‘No Gurudev. The fact is—things have changed. We can't walk into her house as and when we please any more.'

‘Why not? Has she turned ascetic?'

‘Far from it. She's got a new babu.'

‘What?'

‘He's immensely rich. And he has a title. He is a raja. A real raja.'

‘This country crawls with real rajas. What's his name?'

‘I can't tell you that. I'll have his paw on my neck if I do. He is no ordinary raja. He is a king lion—'

‘Bini! Bini!' Girish Ghosh sighed and shook his head. ‘When she first came to me she was like a doll. She simpered self-consciously and moved her hands and feet with jerky little movements. I made her into the woman she is today. I breathed fire and passion into her. I gave her depth and character. But she has no use for me any more. She didn't even care to tell me about her new babu.'

‘You can't blame her Gurudev. A woman can't survive by herself in this wicked city. She needs a man to protect her. You're totally wrapped up in your Ramkrishna and have no time for her. What is the poor girl to do? Her present protector, I've heard, is a good man and treats her well.'

‘Let's go to her. I must see her at once.'

Amritalal tried to prevent Girish Ghosh from undertaking this foolish venture but the latter had made up his mind. Hastening to his carriage he drove like the wind till he came to his destination. Stepping down, he walked with his accustomed arrogance towards the looming mansion ahead but was stopped roughly by the sentries at the gate. There were two of them—huge, strapping northerners with tall turbans and fierce mustaches. But Girish Ghosh was not intimidated. He had had a lot to drink and was in a fighting mood. ‘Let go of me, you rascals,' he thundered in his deep rich voice, ‘Let me pass.' The men didn't understand. They merely repeated, in their unintelli-gible tongue, that they had orders not to let anyone in. Frustrated in his attempts to enter the house, Girish turned his face to the window of Binodini's bedroom and yelled, ‘Bini! Binod! Come down. Come down at once.' Binodini did not come but a maid

Bini?'
called Padmabala, did. ‘
Ogo
Babu!' she said, ‘Didimoni can't see you today. She's ill and—' Girish glared at her. ‘Tell me the truth Podi!' he asked severely, ‘Does your mistress know I'm here? Did she hear me call?'

‘That she did. She's even seen you from her balcony. She sent me to tell you that—'

Girish Ghosh turned away. There was a great sadness in his heart. Helping him into the carriage, Amritalal said gently, ‘Don't be too hard on her. Perhaps her babu was there.' Girish made no reply. After a while, when the carriage had started moving, he muttered sullenly, ‘Pride goes before a fall. She forgets that it was I who made her. And that I can break her whenever I wish. I can drag her from the limelight and throw her down into the deepest of shadows.' Suddenly he took Amritalal's hands in his. ‘Can you get me a lump of clay Bhuni?' he cried feverishly. His lips twitched with excitement and he ran his tongue over them, ‘I'll teach it to speak; to sing and dance. And like the Greek sculptor Pygmalion, I'll breathe life into it. I'll make it into a greater actress than Binodini ever was! Get me a new girl. As young and raw as you can find. I want to try my hand at it again. I want to feel the joy of creation.'

BOOK: First Light
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