Andhayug Script

28/10/25 8:21 PM

A narrative driven play

Play starts with :

Dhritarashtra:
Vidura… for the first time in my
life , I am afraid.
VIDURA:
Bhishma warned you. So did
Dronacharya and Krishna.
“If you violate the code of honor, it
will crush you like a dry twig”

PROLOGUE

Narrator 1 :
This play is concerned with the
age of darkness which in the
Vishnu Purana is described
thus:

…And then in the future day by

day there will be a decline in
prosperity and dharma and the
whole earth shall slowly perish.

The one who has wealth shall

rule.
The wicked and evil shall
prevail.
And weary of misrule the
people shall hide in dark caves
and wait for their days of
misery to end.

(A dancer performs as if he is
trying to hide in a dark cave
and then makes his exit.)

Narrator2 :
In those dark ages which came
into being at the end of the
great war, all thoughts and
deeds of men were corrupt and
perverse.
This is the story of the blind—
This is not a tale of heroes.
This is the story of the blind —
of those who saw nothing, yet
destroyed everything.

ACT 1

The Kaurava kingdom

(trumpet blows thrice)

(The curtain rises , two Guard enter from

two different sides with their shields and
swords)

Narrator1 :

Both sides in the war violated

the code of honor .
This is a strange war in which
both sides are doomed to fail.
Blindness rules this age not
reason and blindness shall
prevail in the end.

Gaurd 1: We are tired, very tired.

Gaurd2 :
In these desolate corridors
richly inlaid with jewels
Kaurava queens once wandered
gracefully like the fragrant
breeze.
Today they are widows.

Guard1 :
We are tired very tired.
We are not warriors.
We have shown no courage.

Their spears unused a burden on their

shoulders.

Narrator 2 :
There is nothing left to defend
This is the kingdom of an old
and blind ruler whose children
in their blindness declared a
bitter war.

Suddenly, the sky darkens Not

clouds — vultures. thousands
of vultures in the air above the
dead.

(Dancers in black move across

the stage, wings outstretched,
circling the guards . And exit)

Narrator 1 :
The guards hide beneath their
shields.
Death flies over them —
a bad omen for the city of the
blind.

Guard 2 :
Did Dhritarashtra see that
terrifying sight?
Guard 2:
How could he?
He is blind.
Has he ever been able to see
anything thus far?

Enter : (Dhritarashtra sits on a small

throne; Gandhari beside him, her eyes
covered. Vidura stands before them.)

(Red background . Gandhari

tears a strip from her veil.)

N2:
Her bitterness burns through
the hall like fire.
Vidura lowers his head and
whispers a prayer —
not for victory, but for
forgiveness.

(A trumpet sounds offstage:

“Victory to Duryodhana!”
Gandhari rises suddenly.)

N1 as Gandhari :
“She cries that her son will be
victorious.
Her hope is blind —
as blind as the world around
her.”

(An old mendicant enters —

the seer Vyasa, cloaked and
aged.)

N2 as Mendicant:
“He says, ‘I am the future that
proved false.
Men redraw fate every
moment —
and today, even fate has gone
blind.’ (The medicant is
covered by a black cloth)
And exits ….

ACT 2
THE MAKING OF A BEAST

Narrator :
Even Sanjaya —that rational
sculptor of words— is
bewildered in this forest of
doubt and confusion.
His responsibility is great his
words are few his listeners are
blind.
But at this moment of danger
only he can tell the truth.

(The curtain rises. We see a

path through a forest. A soldier,
who has laid his weapons aside,
lies on the ground with his face
covered)

(Sanjaya enters.)

On the road from Kurukshetra,

Sanjaya walks alone.
His chariot is shattered, his
heart heavier than the corpses
he left behind.

Narrator 2:
He has seen too much the
fall of warriors, the
breaking of vows,
the slow drowning of
hope.

(Sanjaya kneels center-stage.)

Sanjaya:
I have lost my way on
this path of thorns and
stones.
Oh, why am I still alive
after this shameful
defeat?
But how can I tell the
truth to the blind?

kritavarma :
Be brave, Sanjaya, for
only you can tell them
about Duryodhana’s
defeat.

Sanjaya:
How can I after my
humiliating experience
tell them the whole truth?

(Sanjaya exits.)

Narrator2:
But reason has no voice left.
Madness now rules the
remnants of war.

(Ashwatthama enters from the

shadows, gripping a broken
bow.)

Narrator1:

The son of Dronacharya

has become a beast.
His father was killed by
half a lie —
“Ashwatthama is dead.”
And that lie has devoured
him.

Narrator1:
They call it madness.
But it is only the shape of
grief

Ashwatthama’s scene :

The day Dronacharya

died, Yudhishthira’s half-
truth ruthlessly
slaughtered all that was
good or gentle in him.

(Thumps his breast

triumphantly.)

His dharma is only To

Kill , Kill , Kill .
(Displaying a fierce act of
Violence)

(Ashwathama leaps
forward as if attacking
Sanjaya. Kripacharya and
Kritavarma rush in to
restrain him.)

N2 as Kripacharya:
“They cry out, ‘Control
yourself, Ashwatthama!’”

Narrator2:
But reason has no voice
left.
Madness now rules the
remnants of war.

(All Exit…)

Act 3
GANDHARI’S CURSE

Narrator2 :
In the palace, Gandhari
waits.
Her last son —
Duryodhana — lies dying
by a lake.
Krishna arrives to console
her.

(Blue spotlight on Krishna — calm,

unmoving.)

Narrator 2:
But she does not see the
god — only the man who
watched her sons die.
Her voice is heavy with
centuries of loss.

N1(as Gandhari):
“You could have stopped
this, Krishna.
You, who claim to see
everything, did nothing.
You let the age of
darkness begin.”

(Gandhari raises her

hands toward heaven.)

Narrator 2:
Her curse falls — sharp,
final.
“You will die alone,
Krishna.
Your city will burn.
Your clan will destroy
itself.
And when you die,
the age of darkness will
end —
but the world will never
see light again.”

(A blinding flash of light,

then silence. Krishna
lowers his head. Flute
music — soft, sorrowful.)

The Night of the

Beast
Narrator1:
That same night,
Ashwatthama returns.
He has seen Shiva — god
of destruction —
and begged for strength
to avenge his father.
And the god, easy to
please, gives him his
blessing —
not of victory, but of
endless wandering.

(Shiva blesses Him with

strength, exit)

(Enter the Pandava

camps)

Ashwatthama enters the

Pandava camp like a
shadow.
He kills the sleeping sons
of Draupadi —
slaughters them in their
dreams.

Narrator 2:
When morning comes, he
stands before Vyasa.
The seer says nothing.
Only raises a hand.
And curses him to live
forever —
with his wounds open
and his heart burning.

(Ashwatthama falls. )

Act 4
VICTORY AND DEATH:

Narrator1 :
Days and weeks passed.
The land that had burned
with war began to
breathe again.
Grass returned to the
fields,
and the silence of death
softened into the hum of
new life.

(Soft light spreads over

the stage — the faint
green of rebirth against
the charred earth.)

Yudhishthira had won his

throne,
but victory had aged him.
The Pandavas had
conquered,
but their triumph was
hollow.

(Yudhishthira sits alone

on his throne. His crown
glimmers faintly. He leans
forward, holding his
crown weary, as if the
weight of kingdoms
presses on his back.)

Narrator2:
The king sits not in glory
but in silence.
Around him lie the ghosts
of his brothers,
their valor turned to
weariness,
their wisdom to despair.

(A faint laugh is heard

offstage — Bhima’s wild,
careless laughter.
Yudhishthira’s head tilts
slightly, but he does not
move.)

(Yuyutsu is dragged
onstage by a mob. Stones
strike him. He shields his
face but does not resist ..
He throws a stone and
lets out a harsh, broken
laugh — more scream
than sound.)

(In one swift, desperate

motion, Yuyutsu drives
the spear into himself. He
collapses. The mob
recoils. Silence floods the
stage.)

Narrator 1:
He falls before them —
the last honest man
among the guilty.
And his death, unheroic
and unseen,

(Guards emerge, crossing

the stage slowly, their
faces expressionless carry
Yuyutsu out.)

“In war or peace, there is

always bloodshed.

(The stage darkens. A

dim, red glow spreads as
if fire burns in the
distance. The two guards
turn toward the horizon.)

(Dhritarashthra, Sanjaya,
Gandhari enter)

Guard 2 (gesturing
upward):
There are clouds above
the forest.

Narrator1:
Clouds of smoke, not rain.
The forest is ablaze.

(Flames flicker along the backdrop.

Dhritarashtra and Sanjaya appear amid the
glow, walking slowly, hand in hand.
Dhritarashtra’s eyes are covered with
white cloth; he feels his way forward.)

Narrator1:
The blind king walks into
the fire
that mirrors his inner
night

(He spreads his arms embracing the

burning air.)

“All my life I have

wandered in darkness,”
his heart would whisper,
“Let me wear the truth
upon my bones.”

(Gandhari enters, her robes singed, her

steps uncertain. She reaches toward
Dhritarashtra but cannot touch him. She
gestures to Sanjaya to leave.)

Narrato1:
The mother of the dead,
who once cursed the
divine,
Was at her own ruin.

Narrator2:
Together they walk into
the burning forest —
not as sinners,
but as those too weary to
live in the ruins of their
grief.

(Dhritarashtra turns toward her, extending

a trembling hand. She guides him forward.
Together, they move into the heart of the
flames.)

Narrator 2 (softly):
And so, in the ashes of
victory,
faith perished once more.
The age turned upon
itself —
blinding kings and saints
alike.

Act 5

DEATH OF THE LORD (epilogue)

(Enter krishna)

(Soft flute, waves in background. Krishna

sits beneath a tree, his crown set aside.)

Narrator2:
Years pass.
The Yadava clan destroys
itself in drunken rage.
Dwarka sinks beneath the
sea.
And Krishna, weary,
walks alone through the
forest.

Narrator1 :
He sits beneath a tree,
watching the setting sun.
The world he saved has
forgotten how to live.
Peace has become ash.

(A faint rustle. The old

mendicant — now the
hunter Jara — appears
with a bow.)

N2:
A hunter mistakes the god
for a deer.
The arrow flies — swift,
silent — and pierces
Krishna’s foot.

(A soft thud. Flute note breaks.)

N1:
The god smiles.
His blood glows like
dawn.
He says nothing.
He simply closes his eyes.

N2:
And thus the Age of
Darkness ends —
not with victory, but
with silence.

N1:
The blind have seen
nothing.
The wise have spoken in
vain.
And the only truth that
remains —
is the truth of grief.

(Music rises — flute and low drum.)

Both Narrators (together):

This is the story of the

blind.
Of kings who could not
see,
of warriors who could not
stop,
of gods who could not
save.
And of an age that ended
because no one could
bear to see the light.

(Lights fade out. Silence.

Then — one long conch
sound. Curtain.)