224/KALEIDOSCOPE Broken Images Broken Images Broken Images Broken Images Broken Images Girish Karnad is a contemporary writer, playwright, actor and movie director. He is a recipient of the Padma Shri (1974), Padma Bhushan (1992) and the Jnanpith Award (1998). He writes in both Kannada and English. His plays generally use history and mythology to focus on contemporary issues. He is also active in the world of Indian cinema. This play, too, can be looked at from multiple levels—the focus on values, both personal and academic, and the issue of bilingualism in today’s world. ...for you know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter,... T. S. ELIOT THE WASTE LAND The interior of a television studio. A big plasma screen hangs on one side, big enough for a close-up on it to be seen clearly by the audience. On the other side of the stage, a chair and a typically ‘telly’ table—strong, wide, semi-circular. At the back of the stage are several television sets, with screens of varying sizes. A small red bulb glows above the table, high enough not to appear on the television screen. Manjula Nayak walks in. She is in her mid-thirties/ forties, and has a confident stride. She is wearing a lapel mike. It is immediately evident that she is at home in broadcasting studios. She looks around. Girish Karnad Born 1938 2 Reprint 2025-26

225/BROKEN IMAGES MANJULA: Nice, very nice. Neat! (She goes and sits on the chair. Adjusts the earpiece.) But where is the camera? (Listens to the reply.) Ah! I see. New technology. Isn’t it scary? The rate of obsolescence? (Listens.) Of course I have. In London. And in Toronto. But when you think of Indian television studios, you always imagine them cluttered. Lots of men and women scurrying about, shouting orders. Elephantine lights. Headphones. Cameras. You know what I mean. But here... I mean, it’s all so spartan... I know. But a bit lonely too. Like a sound studio... All right. All right... No camera. I just look ahead and speak to an invisible audience in front of me... Direct. Fine. Fine... I can hear you. Clearly. Voice test?... ‘Testing, Testing, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Hello, Hello!’ Shall I tap on the mike? (Laughs.) My speech will last exactly ten minutes. I have timed it... No, I won’t read. ‘Look ahead and speak!’ Good... But that may take a little longer. A couple of minutes... if I don’t fumble too much. (Giggles.) The yellow light?... Okay, okay, ready, fine! (She mouths ‘Ten’ to ‘Zero’ silently, emphasising each count with her forefinger. At the stroke of ten, the light turns yellow. The Announcer appears on the big plasma screen. The other screens remain blank till the last few minutes of the play.) ANNOUNCER: Good evening. This is a proud evening for the Shree-TV channel. For tonight we bring to you Ms Manjula Nayak. Many of you will know her as a renowned Kannada short-story writer. Until a year ago, she was a lecturer in English in Bangalore. But she had been writing in Kannada. Not unusual, as you know. It’s amazing how many of our Kannada writers are lecturers in English: from the earliest days. B. M. Shree, Gokak, Adiga. Reprint 2025-26

238/KALEIDOSCOPE Appreciation 1. Why do you think the playwright has used the technique of the image in the play? 2. The play is called a monologue. Why is it made to turn dialogic? 3. What is the posture the celebrity adopts when the camera is on and when it is off? Suggested Reading Two Monologues: Flowers, Broken Images by Girish Karnad The Dreams of Tipu Sultan by Girish Karnad. Reprint 2025-26