Two Plays by Rik Amrit with a Foreword by Arjun Bharadwaj · Chapter 1
Play I: The Golden Peacock (Mora Jātaka) — Act I
SCENE 1: The Golden Ridge of Daṇḍaka Forest.
(The stage is bathed in early amber luminescence. The CHORUS stands poised with traditional wooden rhythm sticks.)
CHORUS:
When the morning sun rises above the emerald canopy, the golden plumage catches the first breath of dawn. Yet men build cages not to honour the light, but to possess it.
(Enter PEACOCK KING, majestic, unhurried.)
PEACOCK KING:
It is not the snare of the hunter that binds the spirit, but the illusion that beauty belongs to the one who watches.
Every ritual chanted without comprehension is merely hollow breath echoing in empty vessels.
(The stage is bathed in early amber luminescence. The CHORUS stands poised with traditional wooden rhythm sticks.)
CHORUS:
When the morning sun rises above the emerald canopy, the golden plumage catches the first breath of dawn. Yet men build cages not to honour the light, but to possess it.
(Enter PEACOCK KING, majestic, unhurried.)
PEACOCK KING:
It is not the snare of the hunter that binds the spirit, but the illusion that beauty belongs to the one who watches.
Every ritual chanted without comprehension is merely hollow breath echoing in empty vessels.