Seraikella Chhau
The book mentions how the movements of Chhau are all drawn from animal behaviour, everyday life and depiction of nature, says Utpal K Banerjee
There is a hearsay that Suvarnarekha (meaning ‘golden streak’), the main river of Jharkhand, yields minuscule gold grains if its sands are carefully sieved. Whether true or not, the river skirting the northern borders of Jamshedpur offers a splendid sight all through its course, especially when it meets its principal tributary, Kharkai (meaning ‘demonic bodied’) at the steel-city’s picturesque northeastern apex, Do-Mohani. On the banks of the Kharkai river rests Seraikella, an erstwhile native kingdom, where its staple Chhau dance is far more than the life-line of the kingdom’s now impoverished populace.
The Kharkai river a mere rivulet in dry seasons that turns into a ferocious stream during the monsoons, thus justifying its name plays an important role in aiding the imagination of the people of Seraikella. Its tributaries flow through many borders that nourish and stand witness to all the four styles of Chhau known by their place names: Mayurbhanj in Odisha, Manbhum in West Bengal and Kharaswan and Seraikella in Jharkhand. As for the rituals associated with Seraikella Chhau, it begins and ends along the banks of the Kharkai river during the Chaitra Parva that celebrates the arrival of the New Year as per the lunar calendar.
Talking about the Chaitra Parva fairly well covered in the book this reviewer fondly recalls an annual safari across the dry beds of Kharkai and plunging into the Seraikella villages where every hamlet has its own mini-performances of Chhau, every banyan or peepal tree has a display of Chhau masks spread out on a cloth sheet and every second Chhau artist heads for the palace where dignified though dilapidated furniture is spread out by the former royalty to welcome the guests. On the all-important mid-April night, the spectre of sleep is totally banished from Seraikella’s collective eyes and people en masse are spectators if not performers till the wee hours of the dawn, chewing huge betel leaves widely available in the region.
The book mentions how the movements of Chhau are all drawn from animal behaviour, everyday life and depiction of nature. This makes the dance easily accessible and comprehensible to children. The compositions are from known mythologies or recognisable human experience.
Masks are an essential ingredient of Seraikella Chhau. “They add beauty, kindle curiosity, lend lyricism and captivate the young and the old alike,” the book says. Incidentally, the only other form of Chhau that retains masks is the Purulia genre, where the accent is more on virility and bravery, rather than lyricism. The third important form the Mayurbhanj Chhau discards the mask altogether, while retaining the lyrical grace.
The book aims to document Jharkhand’s cultural phenomenon, which it does reasonably well. Since Chhau dance is apparently of martial origin, Akhadas a traditional arena where martial arts and dances are practised were created by the royal family. Based at eight locations and named after castes, they no longer exist and are now of historical value to trace lineages. After the fading away of the Akhada system, transmission of Seraikella Chhau continues through the masters who not merely identify themselves with various Chhau schools, but also with other aspects such as mask-making and music.
Seraikella Chhau is a profusely illustrative book, with images dwarfing text by almost five to one. One, however, expected a little more attention being paid to adding captions, especially towards the beginning. What also disappoints a little is the paucity of text to the point of making the sentences terse and cryptic. As a consequence, sections on the language of Chhau and on its repertoire fail to expound fully these two vital aspects of the dance form. This seems a pity. But, overall, the book is a treat to read.
