Adipurush dialogues are just as colourful as village Ramleelas. Make Ramayana relatable

Ramayana's passage from village Ramleelas to Sagar's serial to Ramanujan’s 1991 essay tells us about all the T&D losses and gains of the epic over the years.

Still from the teaser of Bollywood movie 'Adipurush' which was discussed at meeting of Akhil Bharatiya Sant Samiti | Courtesy: YouTube/T-Series

The controversy surrounding certain dialogues in the recently released Hindi movie Adipurush, which prompted the filmmakers to tweak them and release new versions, brought the fluid nature of Ram Katha to the forefront. It also highlighted how Ramanand Sagar’s televised Ramayana inadvertently played a role in regimenting the interpretation of the epic. A parallel could be drawn to the historical debate that emerged when English linguist William Tyndale first translated the Bible into English in the 16th century.

Originally told by sage Valmiki in Sanskrit shlokas, the story of Ram has undergone a remarkable journey, reaching various linguistic groups and getting adapted and modified along the way. Its passage from village Ramleelas to Sagar’s 1987 DD National series to AK Ramanujan’s 1991 essay titled Three Hundred Ramayanas to Adipurush tells us about all the T&D — transmission and distribution — losses and gains of the epic over the years.

When a story as profound as the Ramayana transcends its original linguistic and cultural boundaries, it naturally gets localised. Local communities adapt the story to make it relatable and meaningful within their own socio-cultural context. As the story unfolds in different regions, certain sections and parts of the storyline are omitted, while local addendums are made to incorporate folklore, customs, and local beliefs. At the village and town level, you may notice that local songs and even Bollywood music are added to make the show jazzy and relatable.

I recall the local enactments based on the Ramayana during my childhood years in Bokaro Steel City in modern-day Jharkhand. Interestingly, the character of Sita was always played by a boy, as girls couldn’t stay for long rehearsals due to family pressures. My elder brother was always selected to play the role of Hanuman. The language used for these enactments was not Sanskrit or Awadhi but rather a localised form of Hindi, making the story accessible, colourful, flavourful, and relatable to the young actors and the audience. Much masala was added to the story on the ground too — the resulting Ram Katha was always a variation of the original text.

Moreover, some sections of the Ramayana weren’t even enacted in Ramleela performances. In such enactments, the story always ended before the death of Ram. Usually, the last act of the play used to be Ram’s return to Ayodhya and an arti in Ram Darbar. Shambuka vadh was avoided for obvious reasons. The same was the case with Sita killing herself by entering the earth.

In Ramleelas, unlike in Valmiki’s Ramayana, Ram is depicted as a god and an avatar of Vishnu. The episode relating to Sita’s swayamvar, where she chooses a husband, is absent in the Ramayana but is an integral part of all Ramleelas. Another incident that consistently features in such performances, and isn’t present in the epic, is the story of Shabari giving half-eaten berries to Ram. And I have seen Ramayana performances with dance sequences and Bollywood item numbers in melas.

When god came into the picture

It was Sagar’s Ramayan serial that brought about a certain regimentation and gentrification of the characters, depictions, and even the storyline in the 1980s. This adaptation, while instrumental in bringing the epic to a larger audience, also had unintended consequences.

The televised version established a rigid portrayal of the characters and limited the scope for further local adaptations. The visual medium, while providing a captivating portrayal of the epic, constrained the imaginative freedom that previously could give way to localised interpretations. An earlier example could be Raja Ravi Varma’s 19th-century paintings of Hindu gods and goddesses — they reached millions through calendar art and became the standard for generations. These paintings decided once and for all how the divine beings should look. In a similar way, DD National’s Ramayan became widely accepted as the definitive interpretation of Valmiki’s epic, hindering the natural evolution and localisation of the story. It even fixed the way the gods talk.

As a result, localised variations and regional adaptations of the Ramayana failed to gain acceptance and recognition in popular culture. The rigidity imposed by the 1987 version limited the cultural richness that localised interpretations can bring, leaving little room for diverse perspectives and nuances and inhibiting the potential for the story to resonate with different communities.

Any departure from the 1987 interpretation becomes a disturbing experience for Indians today. But the history of religion is the story of departures and a landmine of interpretations and iterations. Religious texts, as we know them today, have been invented and re-invented multiple times. Adipurush is just another chapter in the history of the re-invention of Valmiki’s Ramayana.

An example from 600 years ago

The unintended consequences of regimentation highlight the need for a more inclusive and open-minded approach to religious texts and their adaptations. While it is crucial to respect the core essence and sanctity of revered narratives, allowing for creative reinterpretations ensures that the story remains alive and relevant across different generations and cultural contexts.

And this phenomenon goes beyond the Ramayana. It is worth examining the debate that emerged when the Bible was first published in English. Prior to its translation into vernacular languages, Latin was the dominant medium of religious communication in Europe. It limited access to the scriptures for the majority of the population.

Tyndale’s English Bible challenged the monopoly of the Latin version. When the English Bible copies — after undergoing multiple revisions — started to circulate among the masses, controversy erupted within religious and scholarly circles.

Heavy criticism came from clerics who believed that the translation of sacred texts into the vernacular could lead to misinterpretation and undermine the authority of the Church. There were concerns that ordinary individuals, without the guidance of the clergy, might develop their own understandings of the scriptures, potentially deviating from accepted doctrine.

This debate highlighted questions about the localisation of religious texts and the role of language in interpreting them. Some argued that the translation allowed for a more direct connection between individuals and the divine, enabling a personal and intimate understanding of the scriptures. It was seen as a way to empower individuals to engage with religious teachings.

And it was this landmark event that led up to the Reformation movement and the democratisation of religious practices throughout Europe. It expanded access to scripture, encouraged individual interpretations, and contributed to the diversification of religious thought.

Adipurush just another adaptation

The events surrounding the translation of the Bible into English, which highlighted the tensions between centralised authority and individual spiritual autonomy, demonstrate the ongoing complexities of localising religious texts and the implications for religious discourse and understanding.

The controversies surrounding Adipurush present us with an opportunity to reflect on the dynamic nature of these narratives. While localisation allows stories to resonate deeply with local communities, it also necessitates an understanding of the reverence people hold for their religious beliefs. By embracing the multiplicity of interpretations and fostering dialogue, we can ensure a harmonious exploration of the meaning and significance of Ram Katha and other revered religious narratives for generations to come.

The Adipurush dialogues may have certain communal or violent overtones, but that is altogether a different debate.

Dilip Mandal is the former managing editor of India Today Hindi Magazine, and has authored books on media and sociology. He tweets @Profdilipmandal. Views are personal.

(Edited by Humra Laeeq)