The truth was from this apparent reality dawned gradually. It came in slow doses, but the final shot was drastic. Battle lines were drawn at the suggestion that one of the girls from the family was actually in love with a boy from the `other' side of the social spectrum. Suddenly all the females were put into quarantine. foreign males were banished. A pall of gloom descended on the house. Quarrelsome women held their tongue in Public and muttered behind closed doors. Everything was kept secret from the children. But they were the first to know.

All this came back in dribbles of memory as I watched Spanish poet-playwright Federico Garcia Lorca's (1898-1936) brilliant drama. The House of Bernarda Alba was staged in two versions last week. Tripurari Sharma directed Raghuvir Sahay's adaptation, Birjees Qadar ka Qunba with third years students of the NSD and Chingari staged a Hindustani translation by Sanjeev Sharma in K. Chandrasekhar's direction. One was set in a feudal Muslim home and the other was a Spanish transplant. Both versions worked because of the universality of the theme that goes beyond the pale of memory and the richness of the dramatic text.

Bernarda is an old widow with five daughters of whom the eldest by a previous rich husband is endowed with a dowry. the father of the other four has just died and the family is in mourning. The maid-servant Poncia fills one in with details of the circumstances under which the girls ranging from ages of thirty-one to twenty are being denied the right to consort with men. The primary cause is Bernarda's belief that men in the village are below her social status. Denied the freedom of choice herself, a feeling that was subtly conveyed by Tripurari in her version, Bernarnda inflicts her frustrations on her daughters. No male is allowed entry into the house. And the girls are denied the freedom to step out.

The central character of the play, who never makes an appearance on stage, is the young man Pepe. He is engaged to the rich oldest daughter, seduces the nubile youngest, and sends the sickly unattractive middle daughter into paroxysms of passion. He objectifies desire and is also the route to freedom. But between hope and liberation stands the unbreachable wall of tyrannical despotism. Lorca, who was assassinated during the early days of Spanish Civil War, was victimised for his homosexuality. He also took up cudgels against the commercial theatre that upheld its existence by quoting `audience preference'. ``Theatre,'' wrote Lorca, ``Ought to impose itself on the audience, not the audience on the theatre''.

Tripurari captured the oppressive atmosphere of suppressed desires in her set and stage design. Every nook and cranny of the Studio Theatre was evocatively used to convey the impression of trapped vitality. Each rolling and unrolling of the large chiks hid and revealed throbbing passion. The cramped B.C.Pal stage and limited budget did not allow Chandrasekhar the same flexibility, but he etched a meaningful design nevertheless. Whilst NSD's strength was a sparkling Poncia by B. Gauri, it was Chingari's nemesis: Kanika Arora with her airs and get-up was completely implausible in the role. Vijaya Rao as Bernarda was Chingari's strength. That one sat through two versions of the same play on consecutive days is a tribute to the genius of Lorca who has more to give each time.