As I said, the story initially interested me for the scope it gave for the use of masks and music. Western theatre has developed a contrast between the face and the mask-the real inner person and the exterior one presents, or wishes to present, to the world outside. All theatrical performances in India begin with the worship of Ganesha, the god who ensures successful completion of any endeavour. The damage was repaired by substituting an elephant's head, since the original head could not be found. Hayavadana, too, goes to the same Goddess Kali and wins a boon from her that he should become complete.
Logic takes over.
The central logic of the tale remains intact, while its basic premise is denied. While Girish Karnad's introduction adequately explains the point behind the play's equestrian title, it does not tell us how it resonates for America. The onus is on those of us who have chosen to stage the play here. The symbolic core of Hayavadana comprises the philosophic crisis of estrangement between mind and body. The bodily presence of any given individual in America may indeed be tangibly located somewhere in its bountiful topography, but the soul may well be surfing on tidal waves of murky memories breaking the shores of genetic inheritance and the collective unconscious.