CHITRAGAATHA is a short story, picture by picture, of Jagat, Chaand, Bijli, Ranak and Rajri. A story of their small village in Rajasthan and their family owned puppet shop and the inherited, 1000 year old traditional art of puppetry. Is their story truly that simple? Or is there more to it than what you see?
Chapter 1 – The Shopkeeper
Jagat Bhat was the owner of the most successful puppet and toy shop in Jaigadh, a remote village of Rajasthan, India. He had inherited the art form of Kathputali (Marionettes) and his shop, from his ancestors. His shop was always abuzz with activity of his skilled craftsmen and customers. An ardent music lover and an amazing singer, Jagat spent his evenings outside his shop, in the moonlight, playing his musical instrument that looked like a Kamaycha, while practicing his alaaps. His crisp white kurta and dhoti, all complete with a red bandhej cotton turban enhanced his tall, lean frame and suited his wheatish complexion. His craftsman’s hands silently spoke of experience while his eyes seemed to be in search of peace. His gaze was surely looking for something.
A respectable, honorable, and loved Mukhiya (leader) of the village, Jagat was a man of a few words and a lot of wisdom. He was married to Bijli, the extremely beautiful daughter of the village headman of the neighboring village, a potter by profession. Although everyone looked up to Jagat as a brave and wise leader, Jagat was terrified of new moon nights. And tonight, was another one of those. He knew he would dream the same again today, like he has for years, and wake up restless, helpless, and perplexed. To add to that he was also frustrated that Chaand, his most efficient, dedicated, favorite, and talented artisan from the shop, would not show up again tomorrow. She never came to work on new moon days. He always wondered why, he never asked her, and she never explained. He was anxious about the night and the following day and couldn’t wait to give Chaand his next design to be made into a puppet. He decided to continue singing late in the night while Bijli went to fetch some water at the family well.
Chapter 2 - The potter’s daughter
Dove eyed Bijli, the beautiful wife of the well-known shopkeeper Jagat, was a perfect example of beauty with brains. She hailed from a family of potters and had mastered the art of pottery. Her delicate yet sturdy creations reflected her personality. Bijli loved her husband and his family. She took care of them and their home. She wanted to help Jagat in his every quest, including his recent wish and passion to become the world’s best marionettist/puppeteer, but was unable to do so with her limited knowledge of puppetry. She never interfered in his business but like a good wife, supported him in whichever way she could. Although immensely popular and successful in their business, the couple still longed for a child. Jagat never really liked to talk about it, he felt guilty that his stress and his unfulfilled dream, was one of the reasons the couple was still childless. The villagers of course never left an opportunity to taunt the couple mercilessly. Bijli sensibly chose to ignore these talks publicly, but deep inside, her heart ached and longed for a child and for some answers.
That night, she filled up the second pot full of water and rested it on her waist with ease, while holding the other pot on her head. Her arm length silver bangles clanked as she turned around and started heading home. Her long-tiered earrings swayed elegantly in the dark-yet-soft glow of the new moon dusk sky, while her thick silver anklets made a rhythmic sound. She looked extremely poised even while carrying the heavy filled pots. As she walked silently, bare feet on the sand, she remembered their wedding night when Jagat, for the first and the last time, had spoken to her about how much his shop meant to him and how his ancestors had bought the shop and the home from its original owners Ranak and Rajrii Bhat. She had heard some rumors about them from the village womenfolk some time back, but she never mentioned it to her husband. Was it really possible, what she had heard, that had happened several years ago, was indeed true? She reached the threshold of their home. Just before stepping foot inside the house, she looked over her shoulder and saw a dim light in their shop that was a few yards away. Jagat was still outside, humming with his eyes closed. Bijli stared at him. His peace was interrupted by a sudden sound from the shop. Nonchalantly, Bijli turned around and walked inside her house, it was almost dinner time.
Chapter 3- The Moonlight
Chaand*, Jagats’s favorite artisan, was radiant, smart, skilled and had the most intriguing personality. With her head and most of her face always hidden under her ghunghat*, she mostly communicated with her big dark expressive eyes and her arched eyebrows. Her heartwarming yet mischievous smile was worth many unsaid words. She could brighten any room with her presence. Her choice of bright clothes suited her. She was very sincere and fully focused on her work and hardly ever talked to anyone else in the shop. She had deep respect for Jagat and his unique designs and strived hard to create the exact puppets and toys that made him very happy. She admired Bijli and her demeanor and observed her closely. There was no doubt, she was considered as the most efficient worker. Even if Jagat gave her some work towards the end of the day, it would always be ready for him the next morning. He always wondered how? None of his other craftsmen were able to work that fast. She had been with them for a long time, starting a few months after they took over the shop. Jagat was obviously impressed and over the years she soon became his favorite and his most trusted employee. Most evenings before the shop shut down, he expressed his ideas and concepts to her and she listened to them intently, silently, absorbing everything he said, while she continued working. It was almost like she could read his mind and knew exactly what to do.
That evening too, Jagat continued to hum with his eyes closed. He was aware of Bijli’s approaching footsteps. He loved hearing that sound of the anklets. He knew that Bijli loved him immensely, but he also knew that even though she tried very hard she couldn’t understand him and his creations. She wasn’t fully able to fathom his deep desire, the reason, and the passion to make the world’s best puppet. He loved her yet felt helpless and so did she. Meanwhile, his trust for Chaand grew more each day by a sliver, like the phases of the moon. Afterall Chaand was the one who had confidently said to him one evening, after everyone in the shop was gone, “I will help you complete your vision, we both seem to have the same wish. As an artisan, it is as important to me, as it is to you, to create the world’s best puppet right here in our shop. I know how we can achieve it!” His line of thoughts was disrupted by the sound he heard from the shop. He opened his eyes and slowly walked inside the shop. He found a new bright red folk musical instrument, traditionally used by puppets, laying on the floor. He seemed a bit disappointed; it was made at an incorrect scale than what it was designed to be. Chaand would never make such a big mistake. He heard Bijli call him for dinner.
Chand*- The moon
Ghunghat*– The drape used by women in various parts of India, to cover their heads and sometimes also their faces in some traditions.
Chapter 4 – The enigma
Jagat did the accounts for the day. He continued singing after dinner. It felt like he was more in a meditative state rather than a musical one. His soothing voice filled the cool desert air. Bijli walked past him wrapping up the day. She listened to him intently. It made her heart happy, and it showed in her shy smile. Her mesmerizing eyes and her radiant face glowed even more in the warm light of the copper lantern. The light from the lantern reflected on the thousand tiny mirrors on her clothes and she looked like a starry sky on a clear night. Except the moon and the stars were hidden away into darkness today. Jagat avoided sleeping on new moon nights. But he was exhausted and needed rest. So, he decided to lay down on his outdoor khatiya*. Bijli stacked the two clay pots she had filled an hour ago, picked up the lantern and went inside the house.
Jagat looked at the sky, his eyes now wide open, his tanned fingers interlocked on his chest, over the patchwork blanket that Bijli had made with love for him from shop scraps. Chaand’s words kept echoing in his ears “I will help you complete your vision!” How does she know my exact vision, he wondered? And can she really help? How did she mess up the red instrument then? And what about the dream? He dreaded if it will all come back to him again tonight. His thoughts went back to Chaand’s words. Even though he trusted her, there was something intriguing about Chaand and her confidence. Even after so many years he couldn’t figure it out. It almost felt like she knew something more, maybe a secret to make the world’s best puppet, maybe magic, or maybe she was just extremely ambitious. Was she greedy, or was she just simply naïve? Or was she wicked? It was very hard to tell what was on her mind. Her riveting eyes were extremely hard to decipher. He couldn’t wait for the next day to be over so he could confront Chaand about the red instrument. Where did she go every new moon day anyway? Did Bijli feel the same too? How was she never concerned about Chaand’s behavior? He was engrossed in these thoughts and fell into deep sleep momentarily. He stepped into a dream. But this time he saw Chaand playing an ektara*, the same basket of toys from his shop on her head, she was wearing Bijli’s clothes, and those eyes…what was she saying? He continued to step from one dream to another.
Over the years Chaand had become a part of the Bhat family. She was there in their good and bad times; she was there for festivals and special occasions. Always helped around and never asked for anything extra in return other than her daily wages from the shop. It was more like Jagat and Bijli had become her family. Jagat was a kind gentleman and never asked her personal questions. But one day Chaand had confided in them on her own, telling them her story. She also hailed from a family of puppeteers. She was married to a man named Lakha. He was extremely ambitious and went to Jodhpur in search of work and never came back. It had been a few years. She lived with her aging in-laws on the outskirts of Jaigadh and was the sole bread winner. Jagat and Bijli had given her a livelihood and respect, and she valued it immensely. Maybe that was why she wanted to help. Or maybe she did have another agenda!
Khatiya/Charpai* - A traditional Indian wooden cot/day bed made intricately with thick cotton ropes woven into a tensile design.
Ektara* an Indian folk musical instrument
Chapter 5 – Outside the toy box
“Think outside the box!” Chaand said without looking at Jagat. She was holding an old photo frame in her hand that looked like a wedding keepsake. She kept staring at it intently, while wiping it with her chunni she said “You need to immerse yourself into your passion. What can you sacrifice to achieve your dream, for something you love so much? What all can you give up? How far can you go?” Now she looked at him, her piercing eyes showing a flaming aspiration. “There is a puppetry contest in Jodhpur in a week, this is our chance. This is THE opportunity!” Jagat finally looked up. “Hmm” he nodded subtly. Still holding the red instrument. “Can you explain this to me first, why is this instrument made so big. It was meant for puppets. Also, I have never asked you, but where do you go every new moon day?” He finally asked her in a serious tone. Chaand just smiled mysteriously, looked at him with a sparkle in her eyes and said, “Outside the box Jagat-Sa, outside the box! You need to understand what being a puppet means to create the best one. Contest guidelines have no restrictions on the size or the form of puppets. I made this instrument for you. I want us to create something unique that no puppeteer in the world has thought or done before” Then she took a pause, with a hint of secrecy she said “You will find out next week where I go on new moon day. Let’s focus on the contest right now. Also, I don’t want any credit for this. Do you trust me?” Not giving him an opportunity to answer, she took out a small package from her toy basket and gave it to him. “Here, try this on, it should fit you, I had handmade it for my husband. You are about the same size!”
It all seemed so bizarre to Bijli. But she knew how important this was to him. Like a good wife, she followed what her loving husband asked her to do. Packed overnight and left for Jodhpur with him. Transporting the large ancestral brocade umbrella from the shop stage was the biggest challenge, the silk fabric was so fine and intricate. After travelling for an entire day, they finally reached the venue and registered for the contest. Contestants from all over India and some from around the world created a beeline to the camping tents. The atmosphere was colorful, festive, competitive and the Rajasthani folk music echoed through the desert sand. It felt like a concert.
Human Puppet!! Was that even possible, is that even acceptable here? Bijli thought. She was taken aback when she saw Jagat backstage in the red bandhej cotton kurta, the white rice-paste clad face, the puppet features created with kohl and vermillion paste. His eyes were closed for hours, hands and feet were wrapped in white stretchable fabric. He looked like he was in a state of Nirvana. Jagat’s mind was racing. Where was Chaand? Why was she taking so long to get dressed? He couldn’t talk, nor could he open his eyes, nor could he gesture to Bijli to go look for her with his hands all tied up. He waited patiently. He wondered how Chaand must look in the red chunri and puppet make-up. He felt she would do a better job at the puppet dance than him, her skirt swaying delicately in the soft light. That thought made him smile, but he resisted smiling, lest the rice paste would crack if he moved even a hair.
It had been hours. Jagat finally opened his eyes when he heard the thundering sound of thousands of claps reverberating in the tent city. His name was called out as the winner! Holding his crisp white dhoti he slowly climbed up the stairs to the grand stage. Looked back a couple times, his eyes searching for Chaand to come receive the award with him. Afterall it was her idea and Jagat was an honorable man of words. He very humbly received the award, bowed down a few times to the audience with his palms touching in a namaste. He would never forget the applause. He spotted his beautiful happy wife in the audience, who was now running towards backstage. Jagat hurried down and saw her, she was beaming with pride! “You did it!” She spoke. Jagat smiled and said, “No! Chaand did it for us. Where is she?” Bijli just stared at him while the claps faded in the background.
Final Chapter(6)-The Gaatha (The story)
Note: play video to reveal the truth.
“Who? Who helped us?” Bijli looked at Jagat with bewilderment. “Chaand! Our Chaand. It was her idea. This award belongs to her. Where is she? I know she is shy and will not like all the attention and limelight, but it’s only fair, isn’t it? Didn’t she look great as a puppet too? I couldn’t see her nor talk to her since I had to keep my eyes and mouth closed all the time. She said someone was eagerly waiting for her and she would have to leave right away. Maybe she has left already?” Bijli just stared at her husband with disbelief. She put her hand on his arm and said, “I know it’s a very big deal, and this win is huge, I feel you are very tired, overwhelmed and overworked. Lets just go home now and take some rest. We can talk about this later.” Jagat couldn’t stop smiling on his entire ride back home. He was beaming with pride and was content to his core. He couldn’t wait for Chaand to come to the shop the day after they reached and show her the award. He also decided to share a part of the prize money with her. That would help her take care of her in-laws. While Jagat made plans to wisely invest the prize money, Bijli was still confused! Was her husband hallucinating? Was he in shock after the award, or was he disturbed about something she was not aware of? Her mind was unable to rest.
It had been two days since they reached and there was no sign of Chaand. Jagat’s restlessness grew and without telling Bijli, he decided to pay a visit to Chaand. He went to the village on the outskirts of Jaigadh that she had mentioned. He saw an old man sitting under the shade of an almost dried tree. His wrinkled face showed his age and maturity . Jagat described to him that he was looking for Chaand who lived alone with her aging in-laws and that she was a puppeteer and sold toys. The villager now looked up to him and said, “Are you looking for the girl with a basket of toys on her head, playing an ektara, bright clothes, dark eyes?” Jagat nodded. “You will never find her!” the old man now looked away and said nonchalantly but with confidence. “Her name was Rajri, she died of a broken heart here in this village many years ago. Many have spotted her spirit; some even say they have heard her ektara on new moon nights in the middle of the desert; its believed her husband’s spirit meets here there on that day. She is harmless. Some also say that her spirit lives inside puppets. Must be some unfulfilled wish. Who knows?” He looked at him with subtle disappointment, “Are you her relative? No one ever came for her. The villagers did her last rites. What do you want now?!!” As the man spoke these words, Jagat stood there, frozen, still, shocked and stunned. Gulped down the lump in his throat and walked home. No wonder Bijli dint know where Chaand was, no wonder her behavior never bothered her!
Bijli had always wondered about the rumors she had heard earlier about Ranak and Rajri. They were ace puppeteers and the original owners of the shop and the home that Bijli and Jagat had inherited from their ancestors. Rumor had it that Ranak and Rajri were a newly married couple who were kind, generous, artistic, and very ambitious. Within a short span of time, they had built their small yet successful world in Jaigadh. Unfortunately, the big drought of Rajasthan hit just two years after their marriage and they had to loose all they had built. Recession hit and Ranak was forced to sell the shop and the home to Jagats ancestors. Tragically, a few months later Ranak died of grief and left his beautiful wife behind, taking a promise from her that she would fulfill his wish of creating the world’s best puppet. But unable to cope with the loss of her entire world, Rajri soon died of a broken heart and lonliness. But the promise she had made to her dying husband did not allow her spirit/her soul to move on to the next life. It stayed in the desert, in her village in Jagat’s home and the shop for years. When Jagat took over the family business, Rajri’s spirit was stunned to see the uncanny resemblance between Ranak and Jagat, that very moment she knew that he would be the one who will help her fulfill her husband’s wish as well as help her attain Moksha, or freedom from this life.
It was new moon night today. Jagat laid on his khatiya looking at the dark sky. A few minutes later tears trickled down the corners of his closed eyes. He knew he would sleep well tonight. He knew he would not dream ever again of the two damaged puppets entangled in the red thread, begging, pleading him to free them. Asking him to save them, one wearing his clothes one wearing Bijli’s. He also knew no one would ever hear Rajri’s ektara playing in the middle of the desert ever again. His thoughts were disturbed by Bijli handing him an envelope. It was his photo from the contest. The organizers had mailed it. He looked perfect as a human puppet. Just him!
