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The Indian Express

⇱ STATE BLIGHT News Archive News - The Indian Express


THE dimly-lit room has little to show of the glitzy remains of the previous night. At 11.30 a.m., its 100-odd occupants, tamasha artistes, are just rousing themselves from sleep as they gather their sheets and pillows from the benches that till 12 hours ago seated raucous patrons who responded to every step on stage with whistles and applause. Post midnight, they simply double up as beds for the exhausted performers.

Today is a Thursday and at the Arya Bhushan Kala Kendra located in the heart of Pune, the tamasha artists are waking up to this weekly health camp. A corner room at the far end of the wada, the Pune equivalent of a Mumbai chawl, is seeing a flurry of activity as a partition screen, some boxes and bottles are carried inside. After living for years with health problems like hypertension, arthritis, cramps, anemia, sexually transmitted diseases and even heart ailments, they now understand the need to take stock of their health. And of late, the warning bells are getting ominous as they are up against another scourge: HIV/AIDS.

The tamasha has declined as an art form patronised by the royalty during the reign of the Peshwas in the 17th century to its present state where it has to battle several stigmas. Dwindling audiences, lack of state support and the poor health of the artistes have all spelt misfortune for the performers.

In many cases, it has also made the line that separates them as performers from sex workers a diaphanous one. From having one malak who ‘owned’ the dancer and whose children she conceived in return for maintenance, tamasha artists today are known to have varied relationships and multiple partners, putting them in a ‘very high risk’ HIV category.

While Pune has not reported any HIV cases yet, there have been instances from places like Narayangaon and other areas. This compounds the problems the artistes are already grappling with—of social stigma and a host of medical ailments thanks to their vocation that demands long hours on the dance floor and irregular eating patterns.

Meera Nagarkar is only 35 but suffers from a chronic heart ailment. She says the condition of her heart doesn’t allow her to dance but she has to do it for the sake of her family back home. At 30, Mala Jalgaon complains of persistent pain in her feet the ghungroos weight about 10 kilos together, acidity and anemia. These and many other instances that remained hidden for years are addressed every Thursday at this wada.

Crowded together in the make-shift clinic, the women have only recently learnt to accept and trust the camps initiated by Pathfinders International, an NGO. “Our main thrust is teaching them about hygiene, nutrition and safe sex practices,” says Dr. Shabnam Khan who conducts the health tests in 10 theatres in Pune district.

Traditionally, Tamasha started as the rural theatre of Maharashtra and is amongst its oldest folk arts. Incorporating theatre, song, dance, political satire and political commentary, there are two types of tamasha groups—theatre-based and mobile ones that perform in tents in the hinterland. The robust and risqueacute; Lavani is a vital part of the performance. With each troupe comprising both men and women, Maharashtra has about 50 such troupes based mainly in Satara, Kolhapur, Sangli, Pune and Ahmandnagar. Each tamasha has eight to 10 parties headed by women while the tamasha owner is always a man. The performers mostly belong to poor families from the interior of the state like Jalgaon or Narayangaon. None of the women marry but all have children from their patrons, whose names are never revealed.

“It’s sad that this rich heritage of the state is being allowed to fall prey to changing socio-economic forces when all efforts should have been on to preserve it well. What we are trying to do is ensure its continuation through a certain degree of empowerment to the artistes,” said Michelle Andina, project director of Pathfinders International.

While the performers continue with the only vocation they know despite all these odds for the Rs 4,000-5,000 that it earns them every month, none of them is willing to have their children follow in their footsteps. Almost all of them have ensured proper education for their children back home and proudly talk of a certain tamasha worker’s son who became a doctor, another whose daughter topped and yet another who is training to be a nurse at a local college in Pune.