Early in Yaël Farber’s work, Nirbhaya, the sole male on stage vulgarly spits on the floor. Instantaneously, a thought materialized — how vile would it be for one of the actresses to unknowingly walk across the spittle and only realize she had when she felt the wetness on her bare foot? What I later realized was that, even if that occurred, it wouldn’t rise above even a miniscule concern when set against their sufferings.
Nirbhaya is billed as a play, but a more accurate summation would be that it is a testimonial built upon affirmations. Nirbhaya, which means “fearless” in Hindi, was the pseudonym given to Jyoti Singh Pandey, the young Indian woman who was gang-raped by six men, who also used metal rods on her, on a New Delhi bus. Along with a male friend, she was nearly run over. Both were left for dead on 16 December 2012. Nirbhaya is a tribute to Pandey and to all women who have suffered abuse: mental, physical, and sexual. On the impersonal stage, Pandey’s tragedy frames stories more visceral, not because the incidents also provoked sensational global headlines, but because the female performers’ stories are rooted in their own experience. These women are survivors.
The actresses, Priyanka Bose, Rukhsar Kabir, Sneha Jawale, Pamela Sinha, and Poorna Jagannathan, speak of the trauma they suffered, predominantly at the hands of people who should have loved and cared for them. During production, each of the actresses conversed with Faber about their lives, an integral component towards her writing the monologues they deliver. This results in performances that are a careful balance between confession, poetry, and drama. Rounding out the cast are Japjit Kaur, who represents the memory and purity of Pandey, and Ankur Vikal, who darts in and out of every male role, whether it be a bystander, father, brother, abuser, or Pandey’s friend, Awindra Pandey.
Just a few days after the news of Pandey’s rape broke, Jagannathan sought out Farber with her idea for this production. Having once lived next to the stop where Pandey got on the bus, Jagannathan realized she could no longer remain silent on the subject of sexual violence. She and the rest of the women tackle the horrifying incidents of their past, including marital abuse, brutal rape, and bride-burning, giving voice to what was once subjugated.
A little saliva on the stage can’t register on this scale of misfortune. Not even the lecherous physicality or the manifestation of violence in the play can penetrate as deeply as Jawale’s story about her son, told in Hindi but with translation. That the cast members have the strength to share a piece of themselves is only possible with an audience strong enough to bear the burden. Nevertheless, many still wept.
Nirbhaya is an outstanding and emotionally devastating work that bellows to urgently promote women’s rights. Given that nearly one third of women around the world have experienced sexual or physical violence, and so few of these instances are brought up publicly, there is clearly a societal reason women don’t speak out. The stirring created by Nirbhaya, both the person and the performance, will hopefully lead to a further cultural awakening.
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Nirbhaya premiered at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 2013, where it won an Amnesty International Freedom of Expression Award for raising awareness of human rights. The NYC production from the Culture Project runs through May 17th at the Lynn Redgrave Theater. Ticket information can be found on the Culture Project’s website.
The following discussion happened on April 29th and was led by director Deepa Mehta.