An Interview with Dheeraj Bismil By Aman Zutshi
JAMMU: Sitting in a small tea-stall in Jammu, Dheeraj Bismil, excitedly recounted the day of June 23. “I was asleep when I got a call from Sahitya Akademi and was informed that I had won the Sahitya Akademi Yuva Puraskar,” he recollected. “I couldn’t believe it and it took some time to absorb the news. I was so tongue tied that I didn’t know how to break my silence. I laughed and the person at the other end, probably amused, responded with laughter,” he added. Bismil was so overwhelmed with joy that he could hardly type his email address that the organisation had asked for to send him a formal confirmation of the award.
He, along with Nighat Nasreen from Kashmir, had been selected for the honour. For Dheeraj Bismil who has spent over a decade combining his social activism with art forms to spread awareness about social and political injustices in the rural areas of Jammu had never dreamed that his work would get national level recognition.
Born in R S Pura, Bismil has been dedicatedly staging ‘nukkad nataks’ and singing songs on themes of communal violence, casteism, corruption, unemployment and drug addiction. It was in Chak Sardar Desa Singh village of Kathua district – that he found greater inspiration and a more conducive atmosphere for his work. He writes, directs and acts in his street plays. His recent anthology of seven plays “Ahlada” (The Roost) bagged him the Sahitya Akademi award.
In a detailed conversation with the Kashmir Times, Bismil spoke about his work, his motivation, commitment and the award.
Aman Zutshi: What was your source of inspiration? Tell me about how you started with ‘nukkad natak’ and why? Who were the people who were part of your team?
Dheeraj Bismil: I often visited Kathua to visit my friends who reside there. During one of these visits in 2011, we initiated free education for children in a village called Chak Sardar Desa Singh. My commitment to the working class of the village and labourers worldwide fueled this endeavor. My wife, Monika, was a great source of inspiration and a comrade in my mission. As my friends and I commenced teaching, we encountered numerous challenges plaguing the community.
Development had been slow to reach this village, leaving it devoid of proper infrastructure such as roads and plagued by water-logging. Moreover, there were rampant issues with ration distribution, power shortages, and water crises that remained unaddressed. The villagers, unable to afford healthcare, resorted to alternatives like purchasing medicines from quacks or seeking treatment from self-styled godmen. Additionally, there were farmers who, despite owning land previously, had it unjustly confiscated, exacerbating the economic disparities in the community. Casteism further hindered progress, particularly affecting the ‘Mahasha’ community to which many villagers belonged. Witnessing these hardships compelled me to take action.
I pondered the most effective means to communicate our message, and I settled on drama as the ideal tool. Gathering a team comprised of schoolchildren and friends, we commenced staging plays. The prevalent issue of addiction, particularly the production of illicit liquor within certain communities, was a significant concern. While economically accessible for locals, this liquor posed severe health risks, effectively serving as poison rather than alcohol. Consequently, the initial play I crafted focused on the perils of drug addiction.
Aman Zutshi: What were some of your dramas on drug addiction? What are the other kind of dramas and how do people receive it? How did your audience shape and mould your performances and work?
Dheeraj Bismil (lifting a copy of his book ‘Ahlada’ and gifting it to me): You can find it here. It is called ‘Band Kar Isi‘ (Stop This Now), which we first performed in the village. Another similar play, titled ‘Aao Nasha Karche’ (Let’s Get Drunk), was also staged. Through the latter, we informed people about the two types of addictions— one that is fatal to life and another that serves society. We advocated for the latter, reminiscent of the actions of freedom martyrs who engaged in social work and fought for our rights. Thus, we staged these plays in rural areas to inspire and mobilize the youth.
Then we presented another play titled ‘Har G(h)ar Ich Bhagat Singh’ (A Bhagat Singh in Every Home), inspired by the iconic figure of Bhagat Singh and addressing the concerns of different social classes.
We continued to dramatise a variety of street plays, traveling from village to village. Gathering feedback from villagers after each performance, we identified areas for improvement. As the director and actor of several plays, I refined our scripts based on the recommendations of our audience, gradually completing each drama.
The seven street plays included in this collection have been honed through repeated staging. It wasn’t a matter of simply writing and performing a play; rather, it involved a continuous cycle of writing, performing, and refining over the course of a decade. This is how we solidified our repertoire of dramas.
Dheeraj Bismil: In 2019, I came across a play by Samuel ‘Sir’ on YouTube, and his artistic approach captivated me. His innovative methods add a fresh perspective to drama, such as halting the performance midway to encourage audience participation. He believes in a collaborative approach where actors and audiences co-created the drama together. Samuel ‘Sir’ challenges the traditional notion of actors being elevated above the audience, emphasizing the importance of public engagement for a multidimensional experience.
In the prelude of my book, I emphasized that the true essence of a play lies in the involvement of the masses, inspired by Samuel’s approach. He skillfully integrates folktales with social issues, creating compelling narratives.
Impressed by his work, we reached out to Samuel and proposed a collaborative acting workshop. During our visit, he introduced us to innovative drama techniques focused on performance, while also subtly integrating the art of play-writing into our acting methodologies.
Aman Zutshi: How did that association change you and the nature of your street plays?
Dheeraj Bismil: Upon returning to Kathua, we applied the lessons learned from our workshops with Samuel ‘Sir’ in Punjab, further refining our performances. Our street play “Band Kar Isi” (Stop This Now) was staged a total of seventy times across Kathua and R S Pura, marking a significant improvement in our delivery and impact.
I strongly believe that life can truly be dramatised through street theatre. Unlike cinema on digital screens, street theatre is interactive and multidimensional, allowing for a deeper connection with the audience. It portrays reality as it is, evoking genuine emotions and reactions. For example, witnessing a mother grieving for her addicted son and ultimately succumbing to her sorrow leaves a profound impact, fostering empathy and understanding among the spectators. This direct engagement is something that cinema cannot replicate.
In Dogri literature, poetry holds a significant place, second only to music. Recognizing the popularity of poetry among the masses, I began writing plays in verse, tapping into this rich tradition to further enrich our theatrical productions.
Did you read plays which motivated you to write? What were the other influences? What ideas inspired you?
I had read a few plays, primarily by notable playwrights like Badal Sircar, but I found inspiration primarily in stories and real-life experiences. While we had attended numerous plays at the Abhinav theatre, they highlighted the financial barriers associated with proscenium theatre, which often limits access to only the financially privileged. This, I and my friends felt, perpetuates hierarchies within society.
We understood and valued the potency of street theatre, particularly Nukkad Nataks, in challenging class systems and engaging with the public directly. They hold immense power due to their ability to resonate with the public and challenge societal norms directly. In contrast, traditional stage plays often create a disconnect between the audience and the performance.
The majority of my plays are deeply rooted in societal issues, with only a fraction created for financial gain. For instance, there was a time when I had to script a comedy drama to earn money. However, my true passion lies in creating works that address pressing social concerns. I reject the idea that art is solely for individual pleasure; it belongs to the masses and should serve a broader purpose.
Comedians draw their material from the public, and humour gains its potency from societal interactions. A comedian receives applause and laughter from the public and if we abandon a humourist in a secluded place for a long time then the comic’s art will perish because skill comes from the people.
That’s why I’ve always maintained that the essence of drama lies in the people. When selecting protagonists for my plays, I prioritize representing the masses.
In my view, labourers are the unsung heroes of society. Without them, all wealth would crumble to dust. It’s crucial to recognize the indispensable role of human labour, as machines cannot operate without human intervention.
It is also essential to acknowledge that creativity flourishes when basic needs, like food, are fulfilled. I owe a debt of gratitude to food growers for enabling me to contemplate and create.
A link to one of his street theatre performances with play “Khadda” is posted here
Aman Zutshi: You have used different elements for personification and different metaphors in your plays. Why do you think these are effective?
Dheeraj Bismil: In one of my dramas, I personified animals, but that doesn’t reflect any animosity towards them.
On the contrary, I recognize the vital role animals play in our environment. I used animal symbolism merely as a metaphorical device, without explicitly stating any negative connotations toward fauna. For example, in my play “Aaya Loktanter” (Democracy is Coming), I symbolically employed the wolf to represent oppressors, but I don’t perceive wolves as inherently villainous creatures.
Similarly, in Samuel John’s play “Gadha Te Sher” (Lion and Ass), the ass symbolizes the working class, while the lion represents rulership. This metaphor illustrates how a mule can outsmart a lion, but it’s not meant to advocate for hunting or harming animals. It’s simply a symbolic narrative.
My motivation to write plays stems from a desire to connect with ordinary people and explore their lives and experiences. I believe that common people are a wellspring of stories and contexts, and it’s essential for playwrights to engage with them directly. By delving into the lives of everyday individuals, we can unearth rich narratives and themes that resonate deeply with audiences.
Aman Zutshi: You have been extremely critical of the present regime. Yet you accepted this award from a quasi-government body. What do you have to say about it?
Dheeraj Bismil: Regardless of which political regime comes to power, the fundamental plight of the labourer remains unchanged. While the circumstances of daily wage workers may fluctuate under different administrations, their exploitation persists. My dramas refrain from praising governments, as they often have departments dedicated to self-aggrandizement. Instead, I believe it is the responsibility of intellectuals to expose the faces of tormentors and to stand in opposition to oppressive ideologies like Nazism.
In my Sahitya Akademi-winning anthology, “Dui Azadi” (Second Independence), I address the issue of casteism, highlighting the need for a second freedom from this social malady. Casteism and Nazism are intertwined, so by speaking out against the former, I inherently oppose fascism as well. Similarly, my play “Mehnatkashen De Sukhne” (Dreams of Daily Earners) sheds light on the oppression faced by labourers, whose exploitation is exacerbated under a Nazi regime.
Regarding your second question about accepting recognition from the Sahitya Akademi, I do not view this accolade as a form of corruption or a compromise on my principles. The Sahitya Akademi is a registered society with its own team and budget. While there may be concerns about the increasing influence of authorities over time, I remain committed to using my platform to advocate for social justice and oppose oppressive systems.
Aman Zutshi: But Sahitya Akademi was established by Indian Govt in 1954 and it does come under the government?
Dheeraj Bismil: Indeed, the Sahitya Akademi was established by the government, and I do not deny this fact. However, it operates under its own constitution and guidelines. The funds allocated to it by the government ultimately come from the citizens, including myself, and I believe it’s essential to ensure that these resources are utilized effectively.
I would advocate for increasing the winning amount awarded by the Sahitya Akademi. This would not only provide greater recognition and support to writers but also serve as a motivation for young intellectuals. By increasing the prize money, we can encourage the emergence of more organic intellectuals who contribute meaningfully to literature and society. It’s crucial to invest in and support the next generation of writers and thinkers.
Aman Zutshi: Then why did several Akademi winners return their awards against an alleged fascist regime? Till now 42 Sahitya Akademi award recipients have given up their awards.
Dheeraj Bismil: I fully support those writers who returned their awards as a form of protest during the “Not in My Name” campaign, which arose in response to the alarming rise in mob lynchings. It was a powerful way for them to express their dissent against such atrocities, where lynchers were being celebrated rather than held accountable. For me, expressing dissent means sharpening my artistic skills and creating impactful art, regardless of whether I receive accolades or not. Writing is not about awards; it’s about raising the voices of the masses and shedding light on their struggles.
In my interviews and writings, I strive to amplify the concerns of the people. If individuals share their experiences of facing threats or coercion due to Nazism or any other form of oppression, I will document and share their stories. Whether or not the government chooses to bestow awards is secondary; what matters most is using my platform to advocate for justice and social change.
If given the opportunity, I would not hesitate to return my award as a gesture of solidarity and to raise public awareness. Just as Olympic athletes offered to return their medals in response to injustice, writers have also suffered and faced threats for expressing their views. The tragic incidents involving writers like M.M. Kalburgi, Perumal Murugan (who gave up writing after he was harassed), and Kancha Ilaiah highlight the dangers faced by those who dare to speak out.
In light of these challenges, it is our collective responsibility as writers to continue producing literature that reflects the experiences and struggles of the people.
Aman Zutshi: You have been writing and performing for over a decade. You are joined this mission by many comrades. What would you like to tell us about them?
Dheeraj Bismil: I owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to my comrades, whose unwavering support and guidance have been instrumental in transforming my plays into a cohesive book. Their vision and encouragement have played a pivotal role in my journey as a writer, and I will forever cherish their contributions.
Special mention must be made of Ms. Makhnu, whose expertise and insights into the Dogri language have been invaluable in expanding my knowledge and proficiency. Ranju, Sunny, and Balbir have also been indispensable companions, assisting me in the performances of “Ahlada” and “Band Kar Isi” plays. They are not just friends, but true comrades in the pursuit of artistic expression.
Ms. Makhnu holds a Master’s degree in Dogri from the University of Jammu, while Ranju is currently pursuing her studies in the same field. Sunny is on the path to obtaining his undergraduate degree in Dogri, and Balbir has been a steadfast collaborator in our theatrical endeavors.
Though I am not a Dogra by ethnicity but a Poonchi, with my mother tongue being Poonchi, my workplace has immersed me in the culture and language of Dograland. The elders in my community, who migrated here after partition, have embraced me as one of their own. Their encouragement and support have been pivotal in my journey as a writer in Dogri.
In gratitude to my comrades and well-wishers, I dedicate the introduction of this book to them, as a testament to their unwavering support and friendship.
When I received the news of being selected for the award, I immediately shared it with my father and my friend Manik. However, I encountered another obstacle as I did not have the financial means to publish the text. Thankfully, my friends came to my aid and generously contributed both financially and morally, providing the support I needed to see my work come to fruition.
Aman Zutshi: You talked about Makhnu, who is she?
Dheeraj Bismil: Makhnu hails from a remote area of Samba district and has achieved remarkable academic accomplishments, including a Masters in Dogri from the University of Jammu. Currently, she is pursuing her Masters in social work from the Central University of Jammu (CUJ). Makhnu’s intelligence and expertise in the Dogri language have been invaluable to me, especially considering that Dogri was not my mother tongue. Having grown up in an environment where Sialkoti Punjabi was predominantly spoken for 20-25 years, I had limited exposure to Dogri, particularly in the R S Pura area where I resided. Dogri was only spoken in certain pockets, like Miran Sahib, and in areas that were closer to the main city of Jammu.
Coming from a background of Hindi-medium education in a Kendriya Vidyalaya school, where my friends hailed from various states and spoke different languages, there were no Dogri-speaking students among us. Learning Dogri in such an environment was undoubtedly challenging, and the prospect of writing in it seemed daunting. However, with the unwavering support and assistance of friends like Makhnu, I embarked on this journey.
I am immensely grateful for the collaborative effort that went into writing this book. Writing a book is akin to living another life, as the words we pen down become a permanent record of our thoughts and beliefs. It requires careful consideration and introspection, and having friends by my side made this journey possible. For someone like me, who was relatively estranged from the Dogri language, their support was indispensable.
Together, we established the Dogri Kala Kendra, with a mission to celebrate all mother tongues, regardless of state or region. We firmly believe that one’s mother tongue holds immense significance, as it is through this language that individuals articulate their thoughts and expressions most authentically.
Aman Zutshi: Why did you choose your nom de plume as Bismil?
Dheeraj Bismil: I chose the pen name Bismil as a tribute to the renowned freedom fighter Ram Prasad Bismil, whose courage and dedication to the cause of independence have always inspired me. Additionally, his close association with Ashfaqullah Khan, another revolutionary figure, further motivated me to adopt this nom de plume.
Unfortunately, not everyone was supportive of my choice to use Bismil as my pen name. Some individuals failed to congratulate me simply because of this decision, which I find to be a shallow response. (They consider it to be a Muslim name). The cold reaction of some when they hear my pen name ‘Bismil’ is appalling.
I recall a similar instance with Suraj Yengde’s acclaimed work “Caste Matters,” which was nominated for the Akademi award but did not win.
Despite facing challenges and criticisms, I remained steadfast in my decision to use the name Bismil.
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