Witness to a Comedy of Devotion and Drama

 

Much later, after Maharshi Valmiki, Tulsidas, Kambar, and many others had written the Ramayana, Sri Ramananda Sagar dared to adapt the epic into a television serial for the multitude of devotees and non-believers.

Its waves rippled in every corner of India. In Madhya Bharat, Gwalior is no different from the evolution of visual culture in India.

The changes that the Ramayana serial made at that time in all areas of life are not small. The contribution of the Ramayana serial in starting the trend of people squatting in front of the TV is worth mentioning. People refused to travel. Weddings and other special events on Sundays are not attended. Even the buses and local trains were less crowded at that time. The elders at home started making some small changes in their prayer times. It was heard that nearby temples were getting petitions addressed to their favorite God to deny Yama, the God of death permission to land on earth every Saturday from noon to Sunday evening. Behind it was the concern about the availability of people to take care of the dead body and perform cremation rather than their appetite to watch the Ramayana.

Back in those days, television wasn't as common in every household as it is today. As a result, people would flock to houses with TVs to watch popular shows like Chitrageet and Ramayana, similar to how people gather to watch a cricket or football match. Over time, fans of Ramayana gained the privilege to watch the show in any house with a TV during its broadcast, much like how anyone can visit a temple to pray without needing to be acquainted with the deity. No one needs to teach a drunkard how to find a bar in an unfamiliar place! Similarly, they had a particular determination to reach homes with televisions, no matter how far they seemed from the tall antennas. So, even when unfamiliar faces appeared in the audience, the television owners closed their eyes.

Its waves rippled in every corner of India. In Madhya Bharat, Gwalior is no different from the evolution of visual culture in India. I was stationed in Gwalior as part of my service career.

Just because we have a television at home, we have become involuntary participants in this social service. As it was once said, "Mata Pita Guru Daivam," people have turned it into one of our duties. The number of viewers, which was originally four or five, gradually grew to twenty and thirty. Since there was not enough space in the hall, both young and old people watched this great event from the balcony and above the window in our home. Some of them, finding sitting quietly and watching Ramayana to be a boring event, chose this place and occasion as a platform to display their adventures and personal tastes. The sponge started oozing through the cuts in the clean sofa in our house. The walls were covered with handprints, footprints, and dried noses up to three feet high, and over time, the place began to feel like a Treta Yuga setting.

 After the show, the hall was empty of spectators. It resembled a festival field after a ballet, scattered with paper chits, shells, dirt, and dust. Meanwhile, during the show, there were wedding invitations, profanity, food exchanges for midday meals using a barter system, and other small romances. I used to interrupt and discourage all such romantic gestures, as I was not very interested in finding a place for love outside of my own family, which provided so many comforts.

As the Ramayana serial progressed, people's devotion gradually increased. Their rivalry was more about displaying one’s devotion than real piety. Their leader was Suman, our next-door neighbor, who was an ardent devotee of Sri Ram. We, who put our pride first, could only watch helplessly as everything slipped out of our hands.

Their belief was that Lord Ram and his companions were actually manifesting for these devotees every week. Suman and her team will arrive half an hour before the start of the show. Then there will be a performance of Bhajan, Akhandanama Japam, etc. After a few days, they started to offer Poha, misri, nuts, and jaggery according to their artistic taste. To accompany this, they selected a presentation song to be played before the start of the show. I was hesitant to object because the event was organized by our neighbors and my wife had agreed to participate in the exchange of mythological and devotional events. I was also worried that Suman, who was known for being outspoken, might spread rumors about us if we took a different stance, especially because we are from the far south.

The serial and related art programs continued to progress. The sofa was completely stripped down, leaving only the springs and cover. The murals on the walls reached a height of about five feet. Each week, we grew more eager to see the serial end as soon as possible, while Ramananda Sagar was determined to drag it out as long as possible.

Amid prayers, chanting, and counting, Suman would interject with dialogues to convey the depth of her devotion. Concerned that others might doubt their sincerity, they intensified their counting and chanting. The situation escalated when a couple more devoted disciples arrived to offer support. All the neighbors, drawn by the commotion, were already present at the scene.

It was when our landlord, Lakmi Chand Jain, intervened as the situation started to escalate. He abruptly turned off the power supply, switched off the TV, rang the bell, and dismissed the Ramayana school. He then addressed the disgusted and angry audience, explaining that the dreaded dacoit, Lakkan Singh Tomar, had escaped from the Central jail the previous night. The police had information suggesting that he was hiding near the Hanuman Temple in the Moti Nagar area, close to our vicinity. The Superintendent of Police had ordered utmost vigilance and silence until the dacoit was apprehended.

 Anyway, due to these developments and with the support of some tough police decisions, the locals excluded us from this social service sector. With that, our Sundays slowly returned to normal and our house issued a notice of giving up its position as Serial Theatre. But not before LC Jain forfeited our lease rent caution deposit for damaging his walls and corridors, dirty and filthy.

Note:

I am compelled to inform my loyal readers about these challenging truths that have been hidden for so long. The TV series aired from 1985 to 1987.