The Olden-Age Theatre: A Study In Dramatic Personae And Characters, The Role Models Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

The olden-age theatre, behind the curtain, if lift you, will find them,
I mean the heroes, heroines, villains and other characters
Dressing and readying for
And outside the open theatre,
The audience clamouring for,
The announcer coming out to announce

And the musicians giving the music, the band of musicians
Marking the rhythm and climax of speeches and tones
And their rising and falling pitches,
I lean the sound tracks
To be followed and thudded with,
The make-up man, the costume-marker and dresser

They all trying their best to produce the entertainments into a success,
The local villagerly brats,
The heroine will be a Shakuntala,
The much-awaited arrival of the heroine of ours
And lo, she is coming,
Slim-figured and beautiful like a belli blossom.

Krishna playing the flute under the kadamba tree by the banks of the Yamuna
And Radha giving an ear to
Coming running to attend to his call,
With a lamb into the lap of hers,
With flowers into her hair
And giggling putting one finger in between the teeth.

Krishna powdered-powdered, dressed in colourful clothes
And Radha too looking beautiful,
Where will you find the cine artiste,
The village after shaving the beards and the moustache,
Powdering too much, which you can mark and see,
Playing the role of Radha here.

Lord Buddha in sadhna, in his meditation on a serene lotus
Shining over,
The sun-rays falling and glistening,
Suppose you, that he under a peepul tree
And the band of folk musicians,
The dancers or nautch girls passing through

And he getting not attracted, just lost in his sadhna
And the sadhna taking him far
Into the realms and circles of meditation,
Concentrating yourself,
Meditate upon
and it will give peace to you,
The peace of mined, peace of soul.

Raja Harishchandra in the crematorium,
On the burning ghats,
Deputed by the chandal
To collect taxes
And Sabya with the body of Rohit
Waiting for his signal.

The test of truth, the ordeal of it
Harishchandra passing through
And the gods subjecting him to such a rigorous test
And the world aghast and awe-stricken
To see the spectacle,
The tale of the mundane world,
The soul in question.

Lord Shiv with the dead body of Sati
So much remorseful, broken and stricken
Wandering here and there
And the limbs falling
To turn into the sacred spots.

The heroine appearing gay, gay, lesbian, lesbian,
An ardhanarishwara,
Half-male, half-female,
Overpowdered, overcreamed,
Looking bizarre and grotesque,
Unnatural and abnormal,
Speaking in a changed voice