MIRA - I Desert

15 November 2003 26 February 2004

O radharani, darling of Krishna, you came out of the forests of past brindavan, like a dazzling flash into the history of our lives as mira the princess to bless us with your unsurpassed love and devotion for the supreme lover. May our souls sing as you do.

MIRA THE NIGHTINGALE OF BHARAT
A dance drama inspired by Swami Shantanand Saraswathi
to reveal once again the love story of the ages

Characters

Jayadeva, kathakar
Gypsy men and women
Mira, princess of Merta (1498 - 1547)
Rao Duda, her grandfather (d. 1515)
Mira, twelve years old
Raidas, the cobbler saint
Palace servants
Prince Bhojraj, her husband (d. 1521)
Wedding party
City folk and hawkers
Captain of the army
Soldiers
Folk people
Akbar, Mughal emperor
Tansen, his court musician
Uda Bhai, Mira's sister-in-law
Ladies of the court
The Rana Vikramaditya II (1531 - 1536)
Gopas and gopis
Folk of Mathura
Children of Mathura
Haridas and disciples
Rishis
Lord Krishna



I DESERT
We are at a watering hole, in semi desert, the border of Rajasthan, some 100 km from Mathura. Upstage left, a huge well, some trees, and to the right, a gypsy camp can be seen. Just outside a tent, some gypsies are tending a fire, with articles ready for the evening meal. Dusk is approaching. A gypsy under a tree downstage left is tuning his sarangi, and begins to draw out a gentle melody; the tune is a variation of the song "paga gungaru", played slow and sad. A woman enters downstage right, fumbles with her bundle of belongings and leaves them under a tree. She sits down, exhausted, and closes her eyes, leaning her head against the tree. We can see that she is dusty and travel worn. Her dress has seen better days and upon closer scrutiny, we can tell that it was white once. She hears some gypsy women calling out to each other in the background and she turns her head. The gypsy women banter with each other:

Old Gypsy woman #1: Hey, Preeti, get that pot straight or no man will marry you!

Gypsy #2: Eh, Sudha, she'll get better without carrying pots... better than us. Look at that, look at that!

Old Gypsy woman #1: Shameless!

Gypsy woman #2: Hey Preeti, I think Sudha is jealous of you... [The first gypsy woman pinches her friend and there is laughter all round.]

The woman in white listens to this amused. She sees the sarangi player and then she sees the women at the well. With some difficulty, she pulls herself up and moves towards the well. The gypsies at the well look at her curiously, and wait for her to address them. She gestures that she needs some water to slake her thirst. One of them pours some into a drinking pot and hands it to her. She drinks and drinks - maybe two to three pots of it, and refreshed, smiles her thanks. She wets her dupatta a little and wipes her face. By now, the sarangi player seems to have increased the tempo of his song. She walks slowly back to her bundle under the tree, looking and listening to the gypsy song, and then settles down to rest.

Gypsy: Come and dance with me
Put on your bells, sweetie
Come and dance with me
Show me your eyes, pretty
Naachire naachire

Come and dance with me
Dance to my melody
Come and dance for me
Give your heart to me
Naachire naachire

His song picks up when he calls out to one of the gypsy girls and she complies, swirling her big skirt. The tempo increases and very quickly, everyone is pulled into a spontaneous dancing mood. This develops into a ras when a handsome gypsy joins the group. They dance with him excitedly, some are coquettish, some are coy and some are expressive about their feelings for him. At the rising crescendo of the dance, he is in the middle and the girls are swirling around him. He stamps his feet very fast, as the girls circle him, revolving and turning faster and faster. He makes a chakra and stands in a pose with a smile, looking at the girls dancing around him. He pulls out a flute from his waist belt and begins to play a lilting melody above the rhythm of the song... the mood changes, and the girls stop their dancing one by one, and as if drawn by something magical about him, sit at his feet, listening to his flute song. It is now dark. And the song he plays on the flute is a haunting melody. Having established the tune, he tells the girls...

Flute-player: This song is about Radha looking for Krishna.

His words catch the attention of the woman in white and she begins to listen intently as he continues playing. As he plays, we can see that she is overcome with emotion. As he finishes the song, a gypsy woman comes up to him with a morsel of bread from the fire upstage, and sits close to him.

Gypsy #2: You play the flute like Krishna, Jayadeva

Gypsy #3: And he is our Krishna!

Gypsy #4: Give us one of your fantastic tales, Jayadeva

Jayadeva: A tale! You want a tale? [The girls say "yes!" to this.] I will tell you about Radharani, whose ambrosial love for Krishna is beyond compare.

Gypsy #4: Ah! Jayadeva, we already know of Radha... though it will surely be a pleasure to have you tell it... again!

Jayadeva: Ah! But my sweet, this story of Radha has never been heard before... not until now. [The girls squeal in general excitement and curiosity. He waits, and slowly looks around at the girls, taking his time, gathering their attention to him.] The holy rishis, whose hearts are ever set in adoration of Mahavishnu in Vaikunth, had only tasted a small cup of the intoxicatingly sweet love story of Radha and Krishna. Within each, the same desire arose that mankind should see and hear once again, and ever remember, the divinely inspiring story of the adoring soul journeying towards the Cosmic Beloved. On his effulgent couch of Adisesa, the eternal potency of the universe, Mahavishnu gave a gentle smile, and the rishis knew at once that their desire would be fulfilled... [Pause.] They are watching us now, even as I am about tell you this story... this story of a princess who gave up her luxurious palace life, her riches and her wealth, her jewels and her family.... All for love.

Gypsy #5: I would give up everything for you, Jayadeva!

Gypsy #2: Give me your bangles and your nose ring, and you can have him!

Gypsy #5: Ha! He doesn't belong to you!

Gypsy #2: Of course he does...

Gypsy #5: No, he does not...

Jayadeva, getting up and singing as if in a daze:
She had everything
Anything she could own
And yet
She gave up everything
Everything she owned...

Mira, to herself: Everything I owned...

Jayadeva: All for love...

Mira: For Krishna...

Jayadeva: O Mira....

The music swells, the light changes as Mira continues her song while the stage is cleared. Spot on Mira.

Mira: All for love for Krishna...
I had everything
Anything I could own
But I need nothing
Except Krishna as my own...
I had everything
Anything I could own
But I need nothing
Just my Krishna alone
Mira's lord must be kind
Your sweetheart you must find...

She turns to the direction of her grandfather's voice calling her, and is about to answer when her younger self enters, answering, in the next scene.