Ramleela

How a Small Town in UP Is Bridging Cultures Through Ramleela

For the past 51 years, the Ramleela in Bakshi Ka Talab has been breaking religious barriers, with Muslim artists playing the role of Lord Rama, Laxman, Sita, Janak, Dasharath, and many others.

In Bakshi Ka Talab, a small town 30 kilometres away from Lucknow, the call of azaan (an Islamic call to prayer) echoes through the air. It is time for namaz, and Salman Khan bows down with devotion. He completes his prayer and dons his cap.

Interestingly, the adjacent area is abuzz with the rehearsal for Ramleela, where everyone is awaiting Khan’s arrival. Khan plays the role of Lord Rama. He takes the stage to act in a scene where he engages in a conversation with Lord Parashuram. In his opening dialogue, he says, “Shiv dhanush todne wala bhi, Koi Shiv pyaara hi hoga, Jisne aisa apraadh kiya, Wo daas tumhara hi hoga (The one who broke Lord Shiva’s bow, must be someone beloved to Shiva; and for doing such a thing, that devotee must be yours.)

For the past 51 years, the Ramleela in Bakshi Ka Talab has been breaking religious barriers, with Khan playing the role of Lord Rama.

This tradition was started in 1972 by the then gram pradhan, Maikulal Yadav, and his friend, Muzaffar Hussain.

In this Ramleela, Muslims perform various roles such as Lord Rama, Laxman, Sita, Janak, Dasharath, and many others. Just as Khan portrays the character of Lord Ram, Suhail Khan takes on the role of Laxman, while Farhan Ali portrays Sita. Bharat is played by Suhel Khan, and Sher Khan embodies the character of Janak. Even the role of young Ram is portrayed by Abdul Hasan.

Salman Khan has been part of this Ramleela for the last 12 years. And it has been seven years since he has been performing on stage as Lord Rama.

“When I wear the crown and dress as the king of Ayodhya, an aura of devotion envelops the scene. People feel that Lord Rama is physically present before them. Men, women, and children shower flowers and seek blessings by touching my feet. During these moments, people seem to forget my real identity and perceive me as Lord Rama. Experiencing this atmosphere fills me with a profound sense of divine happiness and makes me feel as if I have embodied Lord Shri Ram, a rare feeling, I may not experience elsewhere.”

“If people in a small town like Bakshi ka Talab can coexist with brotherhood and solidarity, why do some individuals attempt to spread hatred across the entire country,“ says Salman Khan, who is a gym trainer.

Twenty-year old Sahil Khan, a student, who plays the role of Laxman, joined the Ramleela when he was nine years old. “When I was a child, this tradition piqued my curiosity. Initially, I had started to play the roles of Bharat, Shatrughan, etc., but as time passed, I started getting more important roles, and eventually got to play the role of Laxman.”

Though he plays the role of Laxman, Sahil holds Lord Ram in unparalleled esteem. “Lord Ram was ‘Maryada Puroshottam’ (embodiment of the ideal man), who did not bat an eyelid before setting off on his 14-year exile in the forest, in pursuance of his father Dasharath’s wish,” he says.

From Right to left – Suhail Khan as Lakshman, Salman Khan as Lord Ram, Sujeet Yadav as Suryadev and Ajay Maurya (side artist). Photo: Bakshi ka Talab Ramleela Samiti

Salman and Sahil together create an atmosphere that unites people in devotion, transcending religious barriers. “Religious tensions between Hindus and Muslims are increasing in the country, but when I am in Bakshi Ka Talab, none of that hatred is perceptible. My family and the audience have been nothing but supportive, showering all their praise and encouragement,” says Sahil Khan.

Thousands of people gather to witness this unique Ramleela. Sanjeev Shukla, 55, a resident of Bakshi Ka Talab, says, “When I was a child, my father used to bring me to watch Ramleela. Now I bring my son to watch it. We feel a great sense of joy that our god is being respected and played by the people from other faiths also.”

The director of this Ramleela is Mohammad Sabir Khan. He has been associated with it in various capacities for 49 years. He started directing Ramleela in 1990. “As a child, I used to watch Ramleela and longed to be part of it. Then I began this journey with the role of Jatayu and gradually started directing it.”

Mohammad Sabir Khan. Photo: Aman Khan

As Sabir Khan shares insights with this scribe, rehearsals are underway. He advises Salman Khan that his facial expressions should reflect Lord Ram’s calm demeanor.

“There was just one occasion when I encountered some objection to my participation in Ramleela. That was when I got married, and my in-laws raised concerns. I invited them to see our Ramleela first hand, and that became a turning point for them as they watched thousands of people applauding and praising my performance,” he says.

This Ramleela has seen many interesting phases.

Videsh Pal Yadav, son of Maikulal Yadav, who was the founder member of Ramleela organising committee, shares an interesting anecdote. “Once, Ramzaan (the holy month of fasting for Muslims) and Navratra (a Hindu festival) had coincided. We were worried about how we would manage Ramleela because most of our Muslim artists would be observing Roza (fasting),” he recounts.

He said that none of them allowed their fasting to disrupt the smooth flow of the rehearsals.

He added, “On the final day, they [the artists] broke their fast (Iftaar) on the stage itself, just before starting the programme to ensure that there was no interruption in the performance.”

An old connection

In Lucknow, the tradition of a Muslim connection with Ramleela has deep roots. In the 1780s, Lucknow’s fourth nawab, Asaf-ud-Daula, donated 6 acres of land to establish a Ramleela ground in the Aishbagh locality, where the annual Ramleela has been held ever since.

According to Aditya Dwivedi, secretary of the Aishbagh Ramleela Samiti, “This is one of the most renowned Ramleela in India. It was started by Goswami Tulsidas in the 16th century. In the beginning, Sadhus used to perform Ramleela here. However, during the era of the Nawabs, many Nawabs began attending Ramleela, and they were so fond of it that they used to take care of the expenses.”

Even today, many Muslims actively participate in the Aishbagh Ramleela.

Aishbagh Ramleela. Photo: Aman Khan

Syed Shamshur Rahman Naved has been the dance director of the Aishbagh Ramleela since 2006. He is responsible for choreographing the dance sequences throughout the 10-day-long ritual.

During a significant scene portraying the marriage of Lord Ram and Sita, an atmosphere of joy prevails as Sita holds the varmala (garland). In the background, the song ‘Shri Raghubar Komal Kamal Nayan Ko, Pehnaao Jaimaala‘ plays, and as Sita advances with the garland, everyone joins in the celebratory dance. Naved has played a crucial role in teaching the dance steps for this enchanting sequence.

Aishbagh Ramleela. Photo: Aman Khan

Syed Shamshur Rahman Naved giving directions to the Ramleela artists. Photo: Aman Khan

“My Muslim identity has never been an obstacle. The Ramleela Samiti has always been supportive, even in the face of occasional criticism from some who question a Muslim’s participation in a stage performance of a Hindu mythological epic. But such criticism has never posed any hurdle.”

Naved takes pride in his association with the Ramleela performance. “Whenever I step onto any stage, there’s a special announcement for me, and that is a moment of great pride,” he says.

Not only in Lucknow but in Inhauna, a small town in Lucknow’s neighbouring Raebareli district, a Muslim family has been hosting a Ramleela and Dussehra fair for the past 156 years. In 1867, the local talukdar, Chaudhary Sharfuddin, started a Dussehra fair with Ramleela as its central attraction. Today, the sixth generation of Sharfuddin continues the legacy, established by their ancestors. The fair is organised under the patronage of Sharfuddin’s descendants, Chaudhary Wahaj Akhtar and Chaudhary Mohd Shuja.

Inhauna Ramleela. Photo: Chaudhary Mohd Shuja

While members of the Chaudhary family have dispersed across the globe, residing in different parts from Dubai to Mumbai, Delhi to Lucknow, when it comes to Dussehra, they all reunite in Inhauna, regardless of their locations, to celebrate and manage the Dussehra fair and Ramleela, every year.

Inhauna Ramleela. Photo: Aman Khan

“The response to the Dussehra fair is tremendous; it is eagerly awaited, and people count the days throughout the year. Both Hindu and Muslim families attend the fair in large numbers. Even Muslim women, wearing burqas, attend our Ramleela with their families,” says Chaudhary Mohd Shuja, a current scion of this family.

“The idea of organising this fair and Ramleela is nothing extraordinary. It comes naturally to us and is an integral part of our family tradition which is part of the unique ‘Ganga-Jamuni’ culture of this Avadh region. Even this year’s Ramleela has eight of the 15 roles being played by Muslims on stage,” says Mohd Shuja.

‘Go, Amjad Hanuman, Go – Lift The Mountain, Kill The Demons!’

In 1995, a seven-year-old watched raptly as a popular Muslim boy in his village played the role of Hanuman during the Ganesh Chaturthi festival. In 2020, one of his students asks, ‘Why don’t the Muslims of India go back to their country?’

“Bhau (father), let’s go, bhau! I want to see how Amjad the Hanuman fights Ravana’s army, for Rama to save Sita ma.”

The year was 1995. I was seven years old. But I remember that time like it was yesterday.

In today’s context of the communal polarisation that characterises our country, fuelled by our 24/7 television news channels, is it possible to imagine a seven-year-old and his friends eagerly waiting to see an Amjad play the role of one of the most revered Hindu gods?

India is rife with religious bigotry. I can’t help comparing the seven-year-old that I was in 1995 with the eight-year-old daughter of a cousin in Mumbai whom I visited recently. As I tried to strike a conversation with my niece, she told me that she hated Muslims. I was taken aback to hear this from an eight-year-old. I asked her why she felt so.

Also read: We Need to Stop Raising Children to Hate Muslims

She said, one day at the park, a boy pushed her, so she knew he had to be a Muslim. I asked her how she had reached such a conclusion. The little girl replied that she had read a WhatsApp message about a boy who had pushed a girl, and he happened to be a Muslim, so this boy had to be one as well.

How different her childhood is from mine! In 1995, it was fairly common to hear children in my village, in western Maharashtra, insistently telling their fathers, “Bhau, I want to see how Amjad the Hanuman fights a war for Lord Rama”.

I grew up in a tiny village, Mhaswad, in Satara district. It was located in a drought-prone area and surrounded by grassland, where wolves, hyenas, snakes, and scorpions were a regular sight. The majority of the 5000-odd people in the village were from the Dhangar (shepherd) community, a nomadic tribe. The rest of the village population comprised people from nomadic tribes such as the Ramosi, OBC and Dalit communities.

Village fair, 1999

Ganesh Chaturthi and Eid were my favourite festive holidays – there was delicious sheer khurma to be had on Eid and a treat of plays and skits to be watched during the nine days of Ganesh Chaturthi. Pandals were erected in the village where local theatrical groups – mandals – staged their performance on all nine days of the festival. Whether it was stories from the Mahabharata, the saga of the Taj Mahal or the episode of Hanuman burning Ravana’s Lanka, I loved them all.

In 1995, my favourite play, drawn from the epic Ramayana, was performed by the Golden Ganesh Mandal. The president of the mandal was Amjad, who was about 17 or 18.

The play comprised three episodes – Hanuman going to Ravana’s Lanka and burning it down; Hanuman, unable to identify the sanjeevani herb, uprooting the entire mountain and carrying it on his palm to the battlefield where Lakshamana, hit by Meghnad’s arrow, lies unconscious; and the final war.

Also read: The Ram Temple in Ayodhya Will Always Remain a Crime Scene

Amjad and his team had worked hard to create a set for the half-hour play. They had made mountains out of thermocol and even created a ‘forest’ by placing eight to nine feet high trees (which had been cut) in the performance arena, securing them with ropes and stones so that they would not shift when someone climbed on them.

That year Amjad outdid himself in the role of Hanuman. The search for Sita in Ravana’s kingdom, accomplished by jumping nimbly from tree to tree, brought the house down. So did the part where he lifted the mountain – we knew it was made of thermocol, but such was Amjad’s performance that we felt the sheer weight of the mountain that was being carried so that Lakshmana’s life could be saved. I watched that play every single day for the entire nine days.

My friends and I were beside ourselves with excitement. We shouted ourselves hoarse, encouraging the actor, “Go, Amjad Hanuman, go – lift the mountain, kill the demons!” After the festival was over, I dreamt for weeks about Amjad the Hanuman’s performance.

The year Amjad could not take part in a play during Ganesh Chaturthi.

Everyone in the village loved Amjad. He was a star. Once he contracted malaria during Ganesh Chaturthi and could not perform that year. It was the first time in six or seven odd years that he was missing during the festivities. Everyone was terribly upset that Amjad, their hero and the best actor among all the performers at the festival, was out of action.

The entire village made a beeline for Amjad’s house to commiserate with him. Not surprisingly, he was in tears at missing out on his favourite festivities. On the last day of the festival he insisted on coming to the pandal and performing the final prayer before the visarjan (immersion of the god’s idol in the river).

Amjad would come to our fields to collect durva (grass used on ritual occasions) for the performance of the ritual during the festival. He knew the entire prayer to the god (Ganesha Stotram).

I also have strong memories of how my mother (born in a Jain family), and my father (who hailed from a Hindu OBC community), always wanted us to learn about different religions and cultures. During Eid, we gifted dates to all the Muslim families in our village.

Author Prabhat Sinha’s grandmother, or Akka, at 84, in 2014: a woman of indomitable spirit, and her grandson’s ‘best friend’.

My grandmother, or Akka as she was called, was a single mother and a hardworking farmer. She was my best friend. Akka was a devotee of Lord Shiva and Bali raja. The latter, she believed, was the patron god of farmers, during his reign, farmers were rich and prosperous.

Every Diwali, Akka would fashion an idol of Bali raja from cow dung and pray to it. The person who used to help her make the Bali raja figure was one of my closest childhood friends, Razzak. We were constantly at each other’s homes, partaking of meals and planning the next outing. My devout grandmother always took him and me to the Shiva temple, where she regularly prayed.

Also read: A Sad Day When a Public Servant Smears One of India’s Tallest Figures of Religious Unity

I had no interest in such things. It was Razzak, so curious about the gods, having heard so many stories about them from my grandmother, who invariably pushed me to go. In fact, he was quite familiar with the local Shiva temple and knew its rituals better than I did. Sometimes he would even help my grandmother prepare for her prayers.

Every year, my grandmother, Razzak, and I would pay a visit to the Sufi shrine of the Peer baba of Pulkoti without fail. It was about 5 km away from our village and we would go on foot. I loved going there because the shrine was located on a hill and Razzack and I would race each other down the hill. On the day of the Peer’s urs a wrestling match would be organised by villagers from all communities.

The annual wrestling match organised during the urs of the Sufi Peer baba of Pulkoti.

For years Akka – and one person each from several hundred households (about 20%) – keep a fast either on the first or last day of Ramzan.

That was then. In 2002, I left for the US and pursued my studies there, returning intermittently for varying periods. In 2017, when I came back for good, I realised with a pang that the present is disquieting – in my village as well.

During a recent workshop at the Mann Deshi Champions Youth Development Centre, which I run to train rural girls to compete for employment opportunities in the government sector, such as the police force, I had invited a historian from an American university to hold a zoom session (in the time of COVID-19) to speak about the rich history of India. In the course of his talk the speaker happened to refer to the unique element that the Mughals lent to India’s architectural traditions. He mentioned the Taj Mahal as a vibrant example.

When he concluded his session one of the students at the Centre stood up and asked, “Why don’t the Muslims of India go back to their country?”.

I was stunned, but not surprised. The student’s question reflected not a personal bias but our collective failure to free our children’s hearts and minds of such prejudices.

Amjad the Hanuman, now in his early 40s.

Meanwhile, I take solace in the fact that Amjad, the Hanuman of my childhood dreams, is a hero in the real world too. In his early 40s now, every day he drives the Mann Deshi Champions bus, a facility we provide to ensure that no girl misses her classes at the Centre for reasons of safety or the cost incurred at having to reach the Centre.

Much like Hanuman, who helped Lord Rama reach his goal, Amjad, in his own way, is helping these girls get closer to achieving their dreams. The young girl who asked the guest speaker the question is one of them, as is his daughter Alafia, who aspires to become a police officer.

According to mythology, good always prevails over evil. However, our fight against community stereotypes, based on virulent religious prejudices, and discrimination is far from over.

Only when it becomes the most normal thing once again for a child to say, “Let’s go, Bhau, I want to see how Amjad the Hanuman fights Ravana’s army”, and for a present-day Prabhat and Razzack to share a universe unclouded by communal hatred, will this fight be over.

Prabhat Sinha, a former athlete, is a sports agent and a honey hunter. He runs a sports programme for rural and tribal children of Maharashtra, Manndeshi champions, and hopes that his proteges will represent India in 2024 Paris Olympics.

How BJP Leaders Are Using Ramleelas to Further Their Political Agenda

The Ramleela, as a cultural platform, has arguably been a popular spot for political luminaries to influence prospective voters for decades.

On October 13, the famous Ramleela at Red Fort had Union ministers and other star campaigners in the garb of famous characters from the Ramayana. Dressed as Lord Janak with a shining golden crown and finely twirled moustache, Union minister for environment Harsh Vardhan, in one of his opening scenes, woefully cursed the kings who failed to lift the holy bow of lord Shiva in Sita’s swayamvara. His dramatic pauses and near-perfect diction had almost cast away the usual kurta-clad image, until he started plugging in ‘moral thoughts’ that even the great sage Valmiki failed to include in the narrative. With intermittent references to ‘save the environment’, swachhta, seva and so on, his poetic dialogues didn’t seem too different from a campaign speech. In the same vein, Delhi Bharatiya Janata Party president Manoj Tiwari, who played the role of Angad a year ago, in September 2017, digressed from the script to refer to the surgical strikes, rousing loud applause from the audience.

The Red Fort Ramleela is annually organised by the Luv Kush committee, and usually popular artists from the Indian film and entertainment industry play the characters. However, for the past couple of years, politicians have also begun to take out time from their tight schedules to essay the roles of famous characters like Himavat, Janak, Angad etc. This time around, Harsh Vardhan played Lord Janaka and Union minister of state for social justice, Vijay Sampla, donned the costume of marginalised character Nishadraj, who is redeemed by Lord Rama towards the end of the story.

The Ramleela, as a cultural platform, has arguably been a popular spot for political luminaries to influence prospective voters for decades. Last year, in 2017, Prime Minister Narendra Modi inserted ideas of nation building while talking about the significance of festivals at the Ramleela organised by the Luv Kush committee. Similarly, in 2016, he attended Lucknow’s famous Aishbaag Ramleela ahead of the UP elections and conveyed the BJP’s stance against terrorism to a horde of spectators. Opposition parties criticised the BJP for ‘hijacking’ a religious event to reap political benefits. L.K. Advani, who is a regular attendee of Shri Ram Bhartiya Kala Kendra’s Ramleela, is often seen glorifying the ‘Ramrajya’ in his closing remarks at the event.

The linking of Dussehra and politics has also reportedly percolated to small-scale Ramleelas. In September 2017, the Ramleela in Dwarka Sector 10 had an effigy of China alongside Raavan and others in the backdrop of the Doklam stand-off. The Indian Express quoted the organiser and ex-BJP councillor from Matiala as saying, “We have so much trade with the Chinese but they repeatedly encroach on our territory. We have decided to set fire to their effigy to send them a message. Last year we did the same with Pakistan.” The event also had big posters of the prime minister’s Swachh Bharat initiative and large cutouts of army men with taglines like “Do your duty for the country and stop buying Chinese products”.

Also read: In Ayodhya, the Ramleela Tradition Is Losing Its Mass Appeal

Among the political parties in the country, BJP and its associates seems closest to Ramleela celebrations. Commenting on BJP’s close association with Ramleelas, Neelanjan Sircar, senior fellow at the Centre for Policy Research, was quoted by Hindustan Times as saying, “I don’t think this version of the BJP believes in hiding its underlying ideological worldview. We have often thought of political parties as playing it safe, playing it towards the middle, being cautious of associating itself with religious imagery. But given BJP’s clear bent, it makes perfect sense for key faces within the party to display Hinduness in this fashion.”

Badri Narayan, in his book Fascinating Hindutva: Saffron Politics and Dalit Mobilisation, talks about how the BJP and its affiliates use the Ramleela to influence the collective psyche of locals in Chittora, Uttar Pradesh. The annual Ramleela in Chittora always ends with the popular ‘Suheldev Bavni’ song, which describes Suheldev’s aggressive attack on Salar Ghazi Mian, nephew of Mahmud Ghaznavi, to protect the Hindu religion from the onslaught of turks. Suheldev, who traditionally belonged to a lower caste community, is thus appropriated by dominant groups who portray him as the Hindutva crusader against Muslim invaders. A popular myth of Chittor is thus seamlessly tied to the Ramayana to communalise the battle between Suheldev and Ghazi Mian, says Narayan.

Voices of resistance

Among these campaign-like Ramleelas, there are some unpopular ones, far away from the limelight, where suppressed voices are making their own noise. For instance, on October 10, 2018, men who played Ram and Lakshman staged a dharna next to the Dhanesra pond in Varanasi to protest against the unhygienic conditions of the waterbody, delaying the event for two hours. The dharna prompted the president of the Laat Bhairon Committee, Ram Avtar Pandey, to reach out to the municipal commissioners, who said that the pond would be cleaned soon.

Similarly, in September 2017, the Ramleela of Ramnagar in Varanasi had devotees and local officials collectively expressing their dissent against the government. The government had promised free buses to ferry people to the Ramleela ground, but no transport was provided, compelling people to walk long miles on their own. “The BJP seniors do not heed us. Everything is just promised but invisible on the ground. I have been reading the papers and also got an ad published in the Gandiv, a local daily. But I have not seen the bus myself. Its specially bad for the aged who have to walk for so many kilometres to reach the Ramleela,” BJP ward president from Maidagin, Gopal Sahni, told Indian Express.

Also read: In Celebrating Festivals, India Has Rich Traditions of Communal Harmony

The expression of anger against the authorities in both these instances suggests that voices of resistance exist in some places. The local representatives don’t shy away from pointing out unfulfilled promises. In cases like these, the power balance seems to slide somewhat towards the suppressed groups. The ‘Ram’ who becomes a tool of displaying power in Delhi’s resplendent Ramleelas becomes a strong voice of dissent in Varanasi and perhaps in other regions as well.

Communal harmony

The Ramleela culture across the country has traditionally been syncretic in nature, with people from different religions and communities participating. Muslims has been closely associated with Ramleelas as actors, writers, singers, designers, organisers etc. and continues to be so. From the Meo Jogis of Rajasthan and Patuas of Bengals to folklorists of Kerala’s Malabar region, Muslims have been an intrinsic part of Ramleelas in the country. The Ramleela in Firozabad district’s Kheriya vilage is often peppered with humorous lines like, “Tu Hindu bhoot hai ki Musalman? Bata…bata” to convey the message of communal harmony.

Historian Rana Safvi talks about Bakshi ka Talab’s Ramleela in Lucknow, where all the main characters are played by Muslims. It was started in 1972 Muzaffar Hussain and Maiku Lal Yadav to spread the message of communal harmony. This Ramleela was also adapted for the radio as ‘Uss Gaon ki Ramlila’ and won the All India Radio’s Lahsa Kaul Memorial Communal Harmony Award in 2000, adds Safvi.

In South India, Kerala’s Mapilla Ramayanam incorporates local Muslim culture in the narrative to make it more relatable to the audience. Apart from using Arabi-Malayali dialects and referring to shariat in some scenes, Raavan is called Sultan and Shurpanakha’s friend is named Fatima. The Malabari Ramleela and other ones where Muslims play pivotal roles therefore belies the fundamentalists (of both Hindu and Muslim communities) who try to fan enmity between the two communities.

Also read: As Politicians Made Ram ‘Hindu’, Indian Muslims Lost Their ‘Maryada Purshotam’

The Ramleela is one of the most popular cultural festival in the country, in which people from across communities come to participate. However, the BJP and its affiliates have been trying to turn it into a campaign spot where issues of nationalism and communalism are trumpeted through references to terrorism, surgical strike, Doklam etc. Setting aside Ramleela’s traditional syncretic culture which continues to thrive in some regions, these dominant groups have been using it for their own political benefits. They are seen wearing heavy costumes of Ramayana’s idealistic characters to preach moral values which they hardly practice. Perhaps Harsh Vardhan, who spoke of saving the environment on stage at Red Fort’s Ramleela this year, shouldn’t have taken off his heavy costumes because at least, for once, he took the issues of sanitation and cleanliness seriously.

Tanya Jha is an intern at The Wire and is a post graduate in media studies from Jamia Millia Islamia University.

In Ayodhya, the Ramleela Tradition Is Losing Its Mass Appeal

Organising Durga Pujas has become more popular because there is less financial investment involved, people in the city say.

This year, the city has 50 Durga Puja pandals and two Ramleela sites. Representative image credit: Reuters

Ayodhya: In the temple town of Ayodhya, the Ramleela is gradually losing its appeal. You can no longer see them being staged in every nook and corner of the city; performances are now confined to one or two places.

The increasing influence of the Durga Puja festival has played a prominent role in distracting people from this tradition of enacting the story of Ram, say old timers in the city.

“We saw the last golden years of the Ramleela till 1990 or 1991, after that Durga Pujas invaded the town,” said Anirudh Narain Jaiswal, who used to play Hanuman in Ramleelas across the city. His troupe separated in 1991.

Ramchandra Tiwari, the former owner of a local theatre that staged Ramleelas for several years, has an interesting observation. “The popularity of Durga Puja increased as the Ram temple movement gained strength,” he said. And the reason behind it, added Tiwari, was simple economics. “Durga Pujas bring more money to organisers than the traditional Ramleelas.”

“Putting up a stage, paying wages to the Ramleela artists who start rehearsals a few months before Dusshera, managing their costumes – it requires a lot of money,” Tiwari explained. “Add to this the expenditure on effigies, each of which cost not less than Rs 1.5 lakh, and you get an idea of the money required for a Ramleela.”

Durga Puja pandals, on the other hand, are not very expensive. “You don’t have to pay any artists, buy costumes, make effigies or arrange other paraphernalia,” said Tiwari.

This makes Durga Pujas economically viable. “While Ramleela organisers were always worried about raising money even to meet their expenditure, Durga Puja organisers end up with profits.”

With the Ramleela and Dusshera celebrations pushed to a corner, old timers feel they are losing a centuries-old tradition. It has also led to the eclipse of certain crafts. For instance, Ram Murat Agrawal used to make effigies of Ravan, Kumbhakarn and Meghnad. “We had been doing this job for generations,” he said, adding that after the rise of Durga Pujas, the family was forced to adopt other businesses.

However, Yugal Kishore Sharan Sahstry, the mahant of the Saryu Kunj temple, disagrees with the view that the Ramleela is losing its appeal. It only needs to be organised on a larger scale and in an attractive manner to draw crowds again, he said.

According to Keshav Bigular, secretary of Central Durga Puja and Ramleela Committee, “This year, we are organising more than 50 Durga Pujas within the holy city with a radius of less than five km. At two places – Rajendra Niwas and Bhagwatacharya Sadan – Ramleelas are being staged.”