“Will songs be sung even in times of oppression,” posed German playwright Bertolt Brecht during the rise of the Nazi regime, and in a prescient answer to his own question, declared: “Yes, only songs of oppression will be sung.” This sentiment encapsulates the heart of “Firefly Women,” the recent stage production performed at Kripa auditorium in Auroville near Puducherry, which echoes a profound narrative of creative defiance against State repression and stringent laws.
“Firefly Women” is not just a play; it’s an emotional journey through the collective memories of protest during the chilling winter nights of the anti-NRC movement in India. The performance weaves a tapestry of resistance and feminist Utopia, drawing inspiration from real-life incarceration letters penned by activists Devangana Kalita, Natasha Narwal, and Gulfisha Fatima, all affiliated with ‘Pinjra Tod’—a movement advocating for more liberal hostel regulations for women students in Delhi.
The backdrop is stark—a black box space punctuated with hanging electric bulbs that simulate the claustrophobic confines of a prison cell. Here, two performers navigate the swinging lights, embodying the struggle of women’s resilience and the persistence of hope in oppressive environments. Throughout the interactive physical play, the actors engage with the audience through their dynamic movements, poignant songs, powerful poetry, and a montage of arresting visuals—puppets and card games intertwined with the rich text of the play.
Manjari Kaul, the play’s director, enunciates the central doctrine of “Firefly Women” with conviction: “Our endeavor is to delve into the essence of solidarity, collective dreaming, resilience, and hope. We explore the voices of an intersectional feminist revolution focused on the courage to combat the oppressive times we are experiencing today.” In forging this artistic and defiant narrative, Kaul intertwines the somber tones of the women’s letters with “Sultana’s Dream” by Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain, blending contemporary accounts with historical feminist literature.
The actors, Priya and Manjari, captivate the audience not only through their performative prowess but with an augmented sense of urgency and authenticity. They traverse the emotional landscape from moments of the numbing monotony of prison life to the sparks of enlightenment gleaned from their fellow inmates. These brave women’s experiential accounts encompass not only the yearning to keep hope ablaze but also the undying commitment to continue their activism beyond the prison walls.
Putting together such a play, infused with sensitive content derived from letters of protest, and then touring across the country is a challenging, and indeed risky, endeavor. The fact that “Firefly Women” staged back-to-back performances in Auroville is a testament to the creators’ grit and the audience’s hunger for thought-provoking theatre.
The technical elements of the play, from the sound design orchestrated adeptly by Neel Chaudhuri to the dramaturgical insights contributed by Nisha Abdulla, elevate the production with a layer of innovative finesse. A projector, attached to a laptop, acts as the linchpin for both the auditory and visual narrative, seamlessly integrating the aural with the ocular.
“Firefly Women” is more than just a portrayal of defiance; it’s a rallying cry for a reimagined future—one where the sorrows of oppression are met with the melodies of freedom and rebellion. The play reminds us that every act of artistic expression against tyranny is a spark that can ignite the firefly glow of hope and change.
To witness this performance is to be part of a collective witnessing and an acknowledgement of the long but unwavering march towards a world where feminist Utopias are not mere dreams but tangible realities. As each performance concludes and the lights in the makeshift prison cell dim, the illuminated message of “Firefly Women” remains—songs of oppression are sung, but so are anthems of liberation, and in them, the enduring spirit of solidarity and resilience shines bright.
