Plot
Prologue
The prologue of Naga-Mandala by Girish Karnad sets the stage for the fantastical and deeply symbolic narrative that unfolds throughout the play. It begins in the ruins of a temple, its deity long forgotten, symbolizing a space detached from conventional norms and sanctities. The broken idol and the moonlight filtering through cracks evoke an air of desolation and mystery, making the temple a fitting venue for the surreal events about to take place.
A man, the protagonist of the prologue, sits in the temple, visibly restless. His actions—prying open his eyelids, yawning involuntarily, and shaking his head—reveal his struggle against sleep. Breaking the silence, he directly addresses the audience, confessing that he might die within hours. This startling declaration establishes an immediate connection with the audience, drawing them into his plight.
The man explains his predicament: a mendicant has cursed him, warning that he must stay awake for an entire night to survive. Failure to do so will result in his death by the month’s end. Initially dismissive of the warning, the man discovers that staying awake is far more challenging than anticipated. Each night, he drifts into unintentional sleep, haunted by the weight of his impending doom. Now, on the last night of the month, he has fled his home, seeking refuge in the temple, determined to outwit sleep and escape death.
This plight introduces one of the play’s central themes: the relationship between creativity and mortality. The man reveals that the curse stems from his career as a playwright. His plays, intended to engage and inspire, have instead put audiences to sleep. The collective frustration of these viewers has transformed into a supernatural curse. This self-aware commentary blends humor with existential dread, as the man grapples with the unintended consequences of his art.
The prologue shifts from personal confession to surreal drama when a group of flames enters the temple, speaking in female voices. These are no ordinary flames but personifications of lamps extinguished for the night. Free from their mundane duties, they gather to gossip and share stories, a phenomenon the man has heard of but never witnessed. Their playful banter, filled with humor and sharp observations about human behavior, introduces a lighter tone, contrasting with the man’s grim struggle.
The flames share humorous yet meaningful anecdotes about their lives in the homes where they burn as lamps. These stories reveal how the flames are affected by the quirks and situations of their owners. Each flame represents a household, and their experiences are shaped by the people they serve.
One flame humorously explains that it was allowed to leave early because its master was very stingy. The master ran out of oil to keep the lamp burning, so the flame was extinguished early. Another flame shares that it gained freedom after the death of an oppressive elder in the household. This elder’s presence had created a heavy, unpleasant atmosphere in the house. With their passing, the flame found liberty. These small details, while funny, also reflect the complexities and struggles of human life. Through the flames’ conversations, we get a glimpse into the joys, hardships, and peculiarities of the households they illuminate. This part provides comic relief while also offering a symbolic representation of human experiences.
The story becomes more intriguing with the arrival of a new flame. This flame tells an extraordinary and imaginative story about its mistress, an old woman. The mistress had held onto a story and a song for years, never sharing them with anyone. Over time, the story and the song became stifled, like prisoners. One afternoon, while the old woman was napping, they escaped. They transformed into physical forms—the story became a young woman, and the song turned into a beautiful sari. This magical transformation brought chaos to the household. When the old woman woke up and discovered the escape, confusion and tension arose.
This tale highlights an important idea: suppressing creativity or not expressing oneself can lead to problems. Stories and songs are meant to be shared. If they are kept locked away, they may find their own way out, often causing unexpected consequences. The flames react to this story with sympathy, emphasizing the play’s central theme that storytelling is essential and must not be ignored.
As the flames talk about the plight of the escaped story and song, the man, who has been silently observing everything from the shadows, sees an opportunity. Desperate to stay awake and avoid his curse, he steps forward and offers to listen to the story. This is a turning point in the prologue. The man’s need to survive aligns with the story’s need to be heard. Both find a purpose in this interaction.
The story agrees to share itself with the man but sets a condition: after hearing it, he must retell it to someone else. This condition underscores the cyclical and communal nature of storytelling. A story does not truly live until it is shared with others. By agreeing to this condition, the man becomes a part of this cycle, ensuring that the story will continue to exist and evolve as it is passed from one person to another.
The prologue concludes with the man reluctantly agreeing to the story’s terms, despite his vow to abandon storytelling. His struggle highlights the inevitability of art and creativity in human existence; even in the face of curses and mortality, the act of storytelling persists. The flames, now silent observers, remain onstage, emphasizing their role as witnesses to this narrative exchange.
The Story begins, transitioning the play into its main tale: the story of Rani, a young girl with long, flowing hair who becomes the central figure of Naga-Mandala. The temple transforms into the setting of Rani’s life, and the fantastical journey begins.
Act 1:
Act 1 begins with the introduction of Rani, a young girl who is deeply loved by her parents. She is their only daughter, and they treat her like a queen, even naming her “Rani,” which means “Queen.” Rani is known for her exceptional beauty, especially her long, dark hair, which her father compares to the coils of a black cobra. Her parents arrange her marriage to Appanna, a wealthy young man whose parents are no longer alive. After the wedding, Rani leaves her loving home and moves to her husband’s house in a distant village.
When they arrive at Appanna’s house, Rani’s life takes an unexpected turn. Appanna barely speaks to her. Instead, he locks her inside the house and leaves, saying he will return the next day for lunch. Rani is confused and scared. She tries to stop him and ask questions, but he ignores her. Left alone in the unfamiliar house, Rani feels like a prisoner. She looks out through the barred window, calling out for help, but no one comes.
Each day, the same routine repeats. Appanna comes home only at lunchtime. He eats silently, speaks a few words to Rani like “Serve the food” or “Heat some water,” and then leaves again, locking the door from the outside. Rani feels increasingly isolated and helpless. At night, she is frightened and cannot sleep, missing the safety and warmth of her parents’ home where she used to sleep between them.
To cope with her loneliness, Rani starts talking to herself and imagining stories. She dreams of magical beings like eagles and princes who come to rescue her. But in reality, she remains locked in the house, her life monotonous and full of fear.
One day, an old blind woman named Kurudawa visits Rani. Kurudawa is a family friend who knew Appanna’s mother well. She is accompanied by her son, Kappanna, a young man in his twenties. Kurudawa had heard that Appanna brought home a bride, so she came to meet Rani. She learns about Rani’s plight and is horrified. Rani tells Kurudawa how Appanna locks her up every day, leaves her alone at night, and shows no love or kindness toward her. Kurudawa suspects that Appanna is involved with another woman.
Kappanna, who has seen Appanna entering a concubine’s house in the village, confirms Kurudawa’s suspicions. Kurudawa decides to help Rani win her husband’s love and stay loyal to her. She gives Rani a piece of a magical root that she received from a mendicant long ago. Kurudawa tells Rani to grind the root into a paste and mix it into Appanna’s food. She assures Rani that this will make Appanna fall deeply in love with her and stop going to the other woman.
Rani is hesitant but desperate to improve her situation. She follows Kurudawa’s instructions and mixes the root paste into a glass of milk for Appanna. When Appanna drinks it, he suddenly faints. Rani panics, thinking she has accidentally poisoned him. She tries to wake him, splashing water on his face, and eventually, he regains consciousness. Without saying much, Appanna gets up, locks the door as usual, and leaves. Rani is left shaken and guilty, unsure of what to do next.
Kurudawa visits Rani again and learns what happened. She concludes that the small piece of the root was not enough to counter the strong hold of the concubine on Appanna. She gives Rani a larger piece of the root and insists that this one will work. Rani hesitates, fearing the consequences, but Kurudawa encourages her, saying that her own marriage was saved using the same magical root.
When Rani tries again, she grinds the root into a paste and mixes it into a pot of curry. But as soon as she stirs the paste into the curry, the mixture turns blood red, and steam rises from it, making the kitchen feel hot and suffocating. Terrified, Rani fears the curry has turned into poison. She worries that if Appanna eats it, something terrible might happen to him. Desperate to get rid of the evidence, she pours the curry outside. But she cannot pour it on the ground near the house because it leaves a bright red stain. Instead, she pours it into a nearby ant hill to hide it.
Unknowingly, Rani’s actions awaken a King Cobra living inside the ant hill. The cobra is drawn to the smell of the magical curry and becomes enchanted by it. It emerges from the ant hill and follows Rani as she returns to the house. That night, the cobra finds its way inside the house through the drain in the bathroom. Once inside, it takes on the form of Appanna, using its mystical powers to transform into a human. In this new form, the cobra (now called Naga) begins to watch over Rani as she sleeps.
The act ends with Rani asleep, unaware that the cobra has entered her life. The stage is set for a blend of magic, myth, and reality as the story unfolds. Act 1 captures Rani’s loneliness, Kurudawa’s efforts to help her, and the mysterious arrival of the cobra, foreshadowing dramatic events to come.
Act 2:
The second act begins with Rani asleep in her room. Naga, the cobra in human form, watches her lovingly from a distance. Slowly, he moves closer and gently touches her. Startled, Rani wakes up and notices him. Confused, she asks, “When did you come? Should I serve you food?” Naga laughs softly and reminds her that it’s midnight, not a time for food. Rani, unsure of how to respond, stands awkwardly, leaning against the wall.
Naga notices her discomfort and gently suggests she sit down. Rani hesitates. To make her feel safe, Naga moves away and sits on the floor, at a distance. Finally, Rani sits on the edge of the bed but remains tense. As she struggles to stay awake, Naga compliments her beauty, calling her a “tender bud.” Rani, startled, brushes off the compliment but grows emotional when Naga mentions her parents. Overcome with longing and sadness, she bursts into tears.
Naga, concerned, comforts her and promises to arrange a meeting with her parents. This promise leaves Rani stunned but brings a faint smile to her face. Naga’s genuine concern contrasts sharply with Appanna’s coldness. Rani begins to feel more at ease in Naga’s presence.
Naga then moves closer to Rani. At first, she pulls back, but Naga reassures her with his calm demeanor. He invites her to lean on him, and though hesitant, Rani rests her head on his shoulder. Naga unties her long, thick hair and admires its beauty, likening it to “dark, black, snake princesses.” After a quiet moment together, Naga gently lays Rani down to sleep. He retreats to the bathroom, transforms back into a snake, and slithers away through the drain as dawn approaches.
Rani wakes up feeling happy and runs to greet Appanna when he arrives. She laughs joyfully, asking when he returned, but freezes when she sees the cold, contemptuous look on his face. Appanna dismisses her without a word, his behavior a sharp contrast to Naga’s warmth. Rani, confused, begins to doubt her experiences with Naga, wondering if they were merely dreams.
As days pass, Appanna brings a vicious dog to guard the house, hoping to prevent any intruders. But one night, the cobra confronts the dog. A fierce fight ensues, with the dog barking, growling, and finally letting out a painful howl before falling silent. Rani, hearing the commotion, looks out but sees nothing. The cobra, having killed the dog, transforms into Naga and enters the house.
Rani grows more accustomed to Naga’s nightly visits. He becomes a source of comfort and love, in stark contrast to her daytime life with Appanna. However, one night, Rani notices blood and bite marks on Naga’s face and shoulders, and she becomes worried. She decides to get some ointment from the mirror-box, which she had used recently for her own wound. As she opens the mirror-box and looks inside, she screams in terror because, instead of seeing Naga’s reflection, she sees the image of a cobra. Naga moves swiftly, pulls her away from the mirror, and tries to calm her down. Trembling, Rani tells him she saw a cobra in the mirror and warns him not to mention cobras at night, as it’s believed they could appear. Naga, trying to comfort her, asks why it would be bad if a cobra came with love. Rani shivers at the thought, praying for protection from such a calamity. Naga reassures her that she is safe with him. When she touches his wounds to apply the ointment, she notices his blood feels unusually cold and wonders about his strange behavior, holding him tightly as her confusion and fear grow.
As time passes, Rani realizes she is pregnant. Overwhelmed with emotions, she shares the news with Naga one night. To her surprise, Naga reacts with sadness rather than joy. He urges her to keep the pregnancy a secret for as long as possible. Rani is deeply hurt by his reaction but agrees reluctantly.
When Appanna notices her growing belly, he flies into a rage. Convinced that she has been unfaithful, he drags her into the street and accuses her of adultery. He insults her publicly, calls her a whore, and vows to take her to the village elders for judgment.
The cobra, watching from the shadows, grows restless but does not intervene. Rani, humiliated and heartbroken, pleads her innocence to the village elders. They suggest the traditional test of holding a red-hot iron to prove her chastity. Before the ritual starts, Kurudawa arrives, frantically searching for her missing son, Kappanna. She interrupts the proceedings, calling out his name. Rani tries to approach Kurudawa for help but is stopped by Appanna. Rani, furious, warns him to let her go, and he reluctantly does.
Kurudawa tells Rani her son disappeared one night after behaving strangely, standing stiff like a pillar. She believes someone else, possibly a supernatural being, entered their house and took him away. She now wanders aimlessly, calling out for her son, even though the villagers think she is mad.
Moved by Kurudawa’s grief, Rani wonders aloud why people have to suffer and whether unseen desires or forces can truly enter their lives and change everything. The Elders interrupt her thoughts and announce that the iron rod is ready for the ordeal.
However, Rani refuses the iron ordeal and instead chooses the snake ordeal, shocking everyone. She walks to the ant-hill, confidently plunges her hand into it, and pulls out the King Cobra, ready to prove her truth and innocence.. Holding it gently, she swears, “Since coming to this village, I have touched only two males: my husband and this cobra. If I lie, let the cobra bite me.”
To everyone’s astonishment, the cobra does not harm her. Instead, it gently wraps itself around her shoulders like a garland. The crowd erupts in cheers, declaring Rani a goddess. Appanna, stunned by the miraculous event, falls at her feet, begging for forgiveness. The village elders proclaim Rani’s divine status and advise Appanna to spend the rest of his life serving her.
Rani’s life takes a dramatic turn. Appanna, humbled and remorseful, becomes a devoted husband. The concubine, ashamed of her past actions, volunteers to work as a servant in Rani’s household. Rani gives birth to a beautiful son, and the family lives in harmony.
However, the cobra’s love for Rani remains unresolved. One night, Naga, now in his original snake form, visits Rani’s home to see her. He finds her asleep with her husband and child, a serene smile on her face. Overcome with anguish, Naga realizes he no longer has a place in her life. He contemplates killing her but cannot bring himself to harm her. Instead, he decides to merge with her hair, which he describes as “dark, snake-like tresses,” and ends his life by tying her hair into a noose around his neck.
By morning, Rani feels her hair is unusually heavy. When she combs it, she discovers Naga’s lifeless body. Grieving, Rani insists that the cobra be cremated with proper rituals, treating it as if it were a father to her child. She also asks that her son perform annual rituals in Naga’s memory, honoring the cobra’s sacrifice.
The story ends with Rani, her husband, and their child living a happy and peaceful life. Rani’s character represents resilience, purity, and the power of truth. Naga’s sacrifice highlights the depth of his love and devotion, as he gave up everything for Rani’s happiness. The villagers continue to view Rani as a goddess, and her story becomes a symbol of hope and justice.
Alternate Ending
The flames, who are watching the story unfold, express disappointment with how the story ended earlier. They question why it had to end sadly and why stories often conclude in an unsatisfactory way. This reflects what the audience might feel, wishing for a more hopeful or meaningful conclusion.
The Man, who is responsible for narrating the story, defends the ending, saying that death is the only truth in life and a natural conclusion to any tale. But the flames argue back, pointing out that as the storyteller, he has the power to change the story and give it a better ending. This conversation adds a unique layer to the story, making the audience think about the role of storytelling and how endings are created.
The story then shifts back to Rani, who is now living a peaceful life with her husband, Appanna, and their child. However, one night, Rani feels a sharp pain in her head, as if something is pulling her hair. When Appanna tries to help by combing her hair, a live cobra, small but clearly venomous, falls out of her hair. Appanna panics and rushes to find a stick to kill the snake.
Instead of being afraid, Rani speaks gently to the cobra, addressing it as if it were an old friend. She tells it to hide in her hair to avoid being killed by Appanna. She lets her long hair down and offers it a place to stay, treating the cobra as a sacred part of her life. This act shows how Rani has come to accept the magical and mysterious elements of her life, including the connection she shared with Naga, the cobra.
The cobra hiding in her hair becomes a symbol of her marriage and her acceptance of the duality in her life—both the real and the mystical. It represents her connection to Naga, who had loved her selflessly and sacrificed himself for her happiness.
The story then returns to the prologue’s setting, where the Man, who has been narrating the tale, is sitting in the ruined temple. As sunlight streams in through the cracks, signaling the arrival of dawn, the Man stretches and bows to the audience. This indicates that his night-long struggle to stay awake is finally over, and he is still alive.
This ending leaves several questions unanswered, allowing the audience to think deeply about the story’s themes. It highlights the coexistence of magic and reality, love and sacrifice, and how life often doesn’t have simple or clear-cut answers. The story concludes with a sense of mystery and wonder, showing that Rani has embraced all aspects of her identity, and the mystical cobra remains a lasting part of her life.
This alternate ending makes Naga-Mandala a powerful tale that blends fantasy and reality while exploring themes of love, loyalty, and the complexities of human emotions. It also challenges the audience to think about the nature of storytelling and how stories never truly end but live on in the minds of those who hear them.
