After a tiresome day, Bommala Narsimhulu and his troupe of artistes reached the house of a dora (landlord) in Jangaon Mandal, Warangal, to perform. The landlord, Satyanarayana, was impressed by their singing and asked, “What more can you do?” Narsimhulu then showed him their wooden puppets. The puppets weren’t that nice to look at and so the dora offered to get new wooden ones made. That was how the Koya bommalata (cane wooden puppetry) came into being.
“That’s the padhyam (verse) that the artistes start their performance with even now,” says Hyderabad-based filmmaker Ajit Nag. The dying art form with barely a handful of performers prompted Nag to shoot the documentary Bommalollu — The Puppeteers in association with the Telangana Government.
In the tiny village of Ammapuram, Jangaon, a group of artists still continue to go on trips to various villages. But most of the time they wait for a government sponsored programme to come their way.
Ajit, who first met these artistes 16 years ago, says, “The first attempt to resurrect koya bommalata was made in 2001 and that’s when I happened to meet the artistes.” 16 years later, Ajit carried off from where he left. “This time, I decided to shoot the film because I wanted to know the future of the art form after this generation. The artistes who perform now are in the age group of 50-60 years and the art form could die with them,” he says.
Centuries ago what was once a thriving art form is today limited to two groups travelling in a desperate attempt to keep the art alive and to make a decent attempt at a living. “When I was a child we would have a minimum of 15 performances in one month. These days, we barely have two or three,” says artiste Mothe Jaganatham, who heads his troupe of 10 people.
The bommalollu (puppeteers), however less in number, hold their culture close to heart. “Our puppets are over a century old. These were passed on to us from my grandfather, Narasimhulu. We have used them for more than a few hundred shows. For every show, we dress the puppets according to the roles and repaint them when they look old. We have never made new puppets,” says Jaganatham, adding, “A spoilt puppet means a lost one. So, our puppets will eventually die with us.”
Ajit’s documentary aims at raising awareness on this dying art form. “The youngsters in the family don’t want to take it up and the future of the art form is hanging. With proper awareness, we can at least try to make it a more viable option for living,” says Ajit.
In the olden days, puppeteers were part of weddings, celebrations and even deaths. “We were summoned to perform after a few days after a funeral, usually when a lunch is hosted. Our tales would provide some sort of relief,” says Jaganatham, who continues to perform the two epics and the stories of Prahlada and Ramadasu among others.
Things are difficult today, but the artistes who also run their own business say, “There was a time when people fought to get a place for our performances, but today, we are struggling for an audience.”
