Rajasthani puppetry: Dancing to the tunes of decay

For puppeteer Muhammed Bashir, every day is a tribute to the dying art of Rajasthani puppetry.

LAHORE:

Muhammed Bashir, who is 70 years old, was born in Rajasthan, a land that promotes the riveting culture of puppetry and traditional dancing dollies. Bashir, who himself is a practitioner of this art, has spent his life travelling Pakistan’s villages and cities, performing short tales of the Mughal emperor Jalaluddin Akbar.

“This is a source of entertainment for the child that lives in each one of us,” says Bashir, who first learned puppetry from his father when he was 10. “Even today, you will still see puppets come alive in Rajasthan. The art is in my blood and I want people to fall in love with it in the same way that I did.”

Finding culture

Rajasthan puppetry is a source of traditional folk entertainment that was once popular amongst villagers and was considered a form of subcontinental ‘edutainment’. The puppets — usually made from fruit tree shavings — are commonly called Kathputli because of their lightweight, rag doll-ish look. A human-like skin tone is given to the puppets with the help of a special polish and character is projected via variation in facial properties and clothing. Traditional Rajasthan puppetry is performed with puppeteers only using their fingers and is given a basic beat with the help of whistling and narrations.

Bashir is a traditionalist who takes pride in his heritage and the tradition of merry-making that has been passed on to him by his forefathers. Fortunately, his family supports his ardour, as his three sons Nadeem, Muhammed Ali and Murad have learned the trade as well, while his daughter Chand Bibi and wife Zahra focus on the narrative side of the act.

“Things are a lot better than they once used to be, but the fear that this art may not live long never leaves me,” says Bashir who puts on his show two to three times a day to earn enough money to support his family. He complains that the government has done little for its preservation and the art is dependent on organisations such as Rafi Peer Theatre group, which holds an annual puppet show. “Flocks of experienced puppeteers have left the country because there is no demand and sometimes it feels like my family and I are the only people left to practice it. We keep at it even though we get only Rs10 per show as puppetry does not have the same value as it used to have back in the days when there was no television.”

Technology is the only enemy

What was known as a prevalent form of entertainment in villages till a few years ago is diminishing in importance and even passionate puppeteers like Bashir are losing hope. According to Bashir, the puppeteers do not perform in these areas due to security issues and low demand. “There was a time when villagers did not understand Urdu and English but now times have changed,” says Bashir who believes that television and other modern entertainment are the cause for the decline in puppet culture. “The villagers had started preferring television shows over my performances and so I moved to the city.” Bashir has now shifted his focus towards schools, festivals, and universities and no longer indulges in roadside performances.

With a pinch of salt

There have been a series of attempts to incorporate puppets into the Pakistani culture but none of the initiatives lived long enough to make a difference. Bashir, who feels nobody is interested in puppeteering anymore, looks at the initiatives with a hint of skepticism. “I was never really educated but I’m smart enough to know that this art cannot be preserved simply by talking about it, there has to be a genuine appreciation for it.”

While talking about the role of his family in preserving the art of puppetry, the artist adds, “My children know that when I die, the only way to preserve my legacy is to keep practicing this art and I know they will carry on.”

Edited by Taneeya Hasan

Published in The Express Tribune, March 1^st, 2012.