Sarasvati played Shakuntala

From PhalkeFactory

Phalke writing in the studio. Dada: Today, in the debris of our unfulfilled days, weighed down with the cares of this profession which is proving to be treacherous, no, I should not say that, rather, that it is dependent of investors who are too anxious to make money and have no regard for anything like detail and perfection .. Dealing with those buffets dealt by these businessmen with no vision- In the middle of all this insanity, I participated in a small home production with my wife and children- an enactment of Shakuntala. Sarasvati played Shakuntala and I could see how happy the children were with that decision, to see their homely mother as a comely maiden, but when the time came to cast me, both Prabhakar and Babaraya wanted me to play Durvasa, while they played the king of Hastinapur. I suppose it is only right. After all, she is a child before my ageing self, this mother of my children, who has had to grow up before her time to look after my needs, perhaps I can only play a Durvasa to her Shakuntala. I added a beard to my face to give the whole thing some more authenticity, to teach them that which I believe in and which is all I have to give them- namely, a respect for detail, an industriousness and the pursuit of perfection. The boys were merry to see me, undoubtedly a villain in their daily lives, looking like this strange mendicant with bowl in my hand, but I noticed my daughter, usually so forthcoming around me, shied away in shock and Neelkanth, who hovers about Sarasvati like her shadow, started crying. Sarasvati surprised me (smiles) with her spirited acting. She comes to life in the presence of her children, never so much before me. She sat on the doorway of our inner room, like a sad Shakuntala and fondled Neelkanth's head, as though he was Shakuntala's fawn, in her lap. The fawn starts upon seeing Durvasa, but Shakuntala pays no heed. Durvasa calls out, once, twice, and then loses his temper. A song starts an exchange between Durvasa and Shakuntala. (Meanwhile, the studio is flying through pasages of time which is unrolling in painted backdrops at the windows. Green forest, clinging vine, a distant brook, a tamarind tree with small, shy leaves )

extracted from 1880