Review Of M.K. Raina’s 'Before I Forget': Moving Depiction Of A Theatre Luminary’s Life

“All the world’s a stage,

And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts…”

—William Shakespeare, As You Like It

One is reminded of these immortal lines when reading Before I Forget by renowned theatre luminary, actor, director, educator, and activist M.K. Raina. The book is a collection of the seminal events in Raina’s life, and in many ways a moving depiction of the historic events of independent India—Raina was born in 1948—as well.

The book starts with the relatively trouble-free days of his childhood in Sheetal Nath Sathu mohalla in Srinagar. The close-knit neighbourhood provided support and succour, even on occasions such as August 8, 1953, when the then prime minister of Jammu and Kashmir, Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah was dismissed and arrested, leading to Raina’s school, among others, closing suddenly. Strangers and neighbours helped the child cross the bridge and walk along, until he was safely back in his neighbourhood. It was in this background that Raina indulged in his love for theatre and films, learnt music, and enjoyed the love and encouragement of his joint family household, especially his grandmother. Life was simple and followed the changing seasons—interacting with the neighbours, where everyone knew each other, storing food and supplies for the winter, walking across the frozen pond in the peak of winters, and hiking in the Zabarwan mountains nearby in better weather. The support he received in those days led to his active participation in plays at school and college, and further training from the Kashmir Kala Kendra, eventually leading to Raina’s joining the National School of Drama (NSD) as a student, supported by the state government.

Theatre and Activism

It was 1971—the time of Woodstock, Vietnam War, and the Bangladesh Liberation struggle—a time of idealism and protests when Raina finished his NSD training, and he plunged into street protests almost immediately. Whether it was staging street plays in support of the people of Bangladesh or having to leave Delhi during the Emergency, he experienced the full spectrum of those heady times. It was also the beginning of his designing and teaching theatre courses and workshops, and traveling through India, while keeping Delhi as the base. For Raina, Delhi has always been his strength and inspiration, for as he writes, “Meetings and mehfils…and the performances, protests and lectures of many inspiring people in Delhi have been my food all these years…Delhi is a place of adventure for me, which I cannot leave or leave without—Delhi has made me what I am.”

This is why one can sense the disbelief and growing awareness about the brutality and cynicism that co-exist in Delhi in the next chapters about the 1984 riots and Safdar Hashmi’s killing. Yet, despite the goosebump-inducing depictions of the gradual build-up of tension in the city, and subsequent terrible violence, and the bigotry that led the way in both these harrowing events, what remains constant is the belief in the healing power of art and possibility of change on the ground. That is why there are also the heart-warming accounts of the volunteers who helped out during the riots, as well as the artists, including him, who collectively protested against what was happening. One of the silver linings of those dark days was the formation of the group, SAHMAT, and the performance of cultural programmes by its members throughout India at places affected by riots in the subsequent years.

Remains of Hope

Those accounts are almost a prequel to the heartbreak of losing his mother in the bleak January of 1990, during the peak of militancy in Kashmir. Again, the raw pain of those days is evident when Raina describes his mother’s last days, and organising her last rites amidst the strict curfew and hostile conditions for Kashmiri Pandits, who were leaving the valley at that time. As he writes, “Communication lines were cut, citizens were stressed…A sense of insecurity was prevalent everywhere.” Shortly after his mother passed away, his brothers locked their houses and left Srinagar; his father stayed in Jammu—and for Raina, losing his mother and homeland in this way was a double devastation, “I felt that my Kashmir, my home…was now a closed chapter for me.”

Yet, the thought of Kashmir, particularly the impact of militancy on the art and cultural scene there haunted him. Which is why, he slowly made his way back—first through the television series, Surabhi, for the shooting of which he visited Kashmir briefly, and then through the workshops with the Bhand Pather community of Akingam.

The last few chapters in the book are a testimony to his hard work and efforts, as well to the wide scope of the healing power of theatre and community, for as he writes, “ Some of the most interesting work that happened in these years came from the most difficult projects…shut doors, stone-pelting, cordoning-and-search operations…never a normal working atmosphere…”. He and his team worked with the performers and children through body and mind exercises, leading to emotional, sometimes painful and ultimately rewarding experiences as both sets of participants confronted the trauma in their lives in Kashmir.

It is perhaps fitting that the book ends with the story of adapting King Lear for a performance, Badshah Pather, by the Bhand Pather group and directed by Raina. In the beginning, the actors were not able to connect with the story, but eventually, the group translated the story, and made changes such as changing the characters of daughters to sons, and adding Kashmiri elements into the play, performed at many places to great acclaim. It is even more admirable that they managed to do this despite sometimes facing violence, as when their Jeep was pelted by stones leading to the windows being shattered and injuries and shock for the troupe! Ultimately, the commonality of grief and loss connected the audience to the play, “He (the actor) brought in the language of the common man’s lament, and of Kashmiris crying while burying their lost sons…”. And it is this bond that makes one believe, as Raina writes towards the end of the book, “…this land had nurtured for centuries the theme of lool (love).., could not become a barren land devoid of compassion…possibility and hope still existed”.

And it for this hope and possibility that this book is a must-read for all lovers of history and theatre, not to mention for all those interested on reading an on-ground and true narrative of the key events in our country.

Jonaki Ray is an award-winning poet and writer, and the author of 'Firefly Memories' and 'Lessons in Bending'.