THE MAN WHO HID HIS TEARS TO MAKE OTHERS LAUGH
Padma Shri for Shri Raghuveer Khedkar and the need to Save Tamasha, Maharashtra's Dying Folk Art
Raghuveer Khedkar, a legendary Tamasha performer, is a renowned folk artist of Maharashtra. Famous as the 'Songadya' his wit, humour, and powerful social messaging have touched generations. He was among the nine personalities who received the prestigious Padma Shri award in 2026. This was a recognition of his lifelong contribution to preserving and promoting Maharashtra's traditional folk arts which has survived through unimaginable hardship and is slowly fading
Few art forms in India like the Tamasha are a part of history which carry the fragrance of earth and the pulse of the common people. The word Tamasha, meaning 'a spectacle' or 'a show' finds it's roots in Persian and goes back to the 17th and 18th centuries when Maratha soldiers, traders, and travellers moved across the subcontinent, creating a need for entertainment. So the Tamashas came up to give them respite.
Early Tamasha troupes were patronised by local chieftains and wealthy landlords, and became a part of seasonal fairs, wedding celebrations, and festivals. But Tamasha's genius was that it refused to remain the property of the privileged. It migrated to the open fields, the village squares, and the dusty crossroads where ordinary people gathered making it a voice of the ordinary.
A Tamasha performance is far more intricate than ubderstood by popular imagination. It has distinct phases, each serving a different emotional and ritual purpose.
The performance typically opens with the Gana , devotional songs offered to Lord Ganesh and Goddess Saraswati, invoking blessings for the evening. This is followed by the Gan-Gaulan, lyrical narratives describing the pastoral life of Lord Krishna and the Gopis, suffused with bhakti sentiment. The Vag, or the main narrative drama, forms the centrepiece , a story drawn from mythology, history, or contemporary social life, interspersed with music, dance, and satire.
The heart of any Tamasha performance, however, is the Lavani , the pulsating, emotionally charged musical form that is Maharashtra's gift to the world of classical-folk crossover. Lavani compositions range from the devotional to the romantic, from the comic to political. Its 16-beat Dadra and Deepchandi rhythms, combined with the powerful vocal tradition of its female performers and the percussion genius of the dholki, create sounds unlike any other instrument.
And then there is the Songadya. The comic character who anchors the entire performance. The Songadya's quick and sharp wit, holds a mirror to society's hypocrisies even while making the audience laugh. It is in this role that Raghuveer Khedkar became legendary.
in his words, "Tamasha does not merely entertain. It speaks truth with a smile to empower. Even as the Songadya makes you laugh, he may often be weeping inside and it is that paradox which makes this art immortal. "
Tamasha has produced artists of extraordinary talent whose names are woven into Maharashtra's cultural fabric:
Vithabai Narayangaonkar (1927–2002), often called the 'Kohinoor of Tamasha', transformed the art form with her powerful voice, magnetic stage presence, and uncompromising artistic vision. Her Lavanis, particularly compositions such as 'Phulancha Gendha Mhanava' are still sung across Maharashtra. She was the first Tamasha artist to receive the Sangeet Natak Akademi Award in 1997, a recognition that forced the cultural establishment to acknowledge what common people had known for decades that Tamasha was high art.
Datta Mahadev Sathe, known as 'Patthe Bapurao' (1868–1941), was one of the pioneers who gave literary and social substance to the Tamasha tradition. Ram Joshi (1758–1812), a Brahmin poet who defied his community's expectations to compose and perform Tamasha, is one of the tradition's earliest literary giants. His Lavanis ,lyrical, philosophical, and unexpectedly tender established that Tamasha could accommodate the full range of human emotion and intellect.
Bajirao Mrudgal, a contemporary artist based in Pune, has devoted his life to bringing authentic Tamasha to urban audiences, collaborating with scholars and musicians to document and revive compositions that might otherwise have been lost. His troupe, Sangeet Natak, has been instrumental in creating archives of performance traditions.
And now, Raghuveer Khedkar, whose Songadya has carried the full complexity of Maharashtra's folk heritage and traditions into the 21st century.
Born in the Sangamner region of Ahilyanagar district, Raghuveer Khedkar grew up with rural culture, folk music, and traditional performances and was attracted by the Tamasha, Bharud, and Lokgeet.
He began his journey with traditional Tamasha troupes, performing various roles before becoming widely celebrated as a 'Songadya.' His art carried a rare blend of humour, satire, folk dialect, and social commentary. Through thousands of performances across Maharashtra from villages to cities , he transformed Tamasha from entertainment to a powerful medium of social awareness. He addressed themes such as de-addiction, women's dignity, the importance of education, social equality, rural distress, and the eradication of superstition in his Vagnatyas and performances. He had the extraordinary ability to make people laugh even as made them think. His performances entertained the masses, as well as educated and awakened them.
Tamasha is an art form that has attracted more questions than acclaim. Its origins can be traced back to the days when war-ridden camps from Maharashtra needed some relief and entertainment. Gradually, performances interwoven with morality, humour, music, and social lessons evolved into what we now know as Tamasha.
But Tamasha was never like permanent theatre. It moved endlessly from village to village. The artists moved with it carrying costumes, instruments, sets, and dreams across dusty roads and uncertain nights. One cannot imagine the hardships they faced while staying in remote villages without basic comforts like toilets, bathrooms, or proper shelter. They travelled not for luxury or fame, but simply to keep the art alive.
Despite giving joy to countless people, Tamasha artists received very little respect. Society often looked down upon them, partly because of the distorted image of Tamasha portrayed in films and popular culture. The dignity, discipline, and artistic depth of the tradition were overshadowed by stereotypes.
During his interaction at Maharashtra Sadan, where he was felicitated, Shri. Raghuveer Khedkar spoke with emotion about the lack of support for Tamasha artists. He expressed the wish that a dedicated corporation with adequate funding be established for the welfare and preservation of this folk art, because the rupee six lakh assistance currently provided by the Government of Maharashtra is simply not enough.
What moved many listeners was his quiet recollection of personal sacrifice. There were moments, he said, when he had to suppress his own grief , a death in the family, an accident during a tour, unbearable personal pain because the troupe depended on him and the audience was waiting. The show had to go on.
"When I stand on that stage and the audience laughs, they do not know what I carry inside. But that is my duty to give them joy, even when joy has left me." said Raghuveer Khedkar
Several Tamasha productions have attained the status of cultural landmarks in Maharashtra's artistic history:
'Sangeet Loknatya Lokayan' a landmark production by Bajirao Mrudgal's troupe that brought scholarly documentation of Tamasha styles together with authentic village performance traditions, creating a bridge between academic and popular audiences.
The classic Vag 'Savai Madhavrao Yancha Mrutyu' performed for generations by traditional troupes retells the tragic death of the young Peshwa with a raw emotional power that demonstrates Tamasha's capacity for serious historical drama alongside its more celebrated comic mode.
Vithabai Narayangaonkar's signature performance of the Lavani 'Phulancha Gendha Mhanava' became so iconic that it was incorporated into school curricula in Maharashtra, introducing generations of students to the art form through one of its most luminous expressions.
In the realm of social Tamasha, Raghuveer Khedkar's own performances on de-addiction particularly those that toured the Vidarbha cotton belt during the agrarian crisis years are remembered by villagers as having genuinely changed minds and saved lives.
When the Songadya addressed farmer suicide and rural despair, people listened in ways they did not listen to government announcements.
Today, Tamasha itself is slowly disappearing due to dwindling patronage, lack of institutional support, and changing entertainment preferences. Younger generations hesitate to enter the field because survival itself has become uncertain. The organised drama companies that once filled Maharashtra's towns with colour and song have dwindled. Many traditional performance forms have been abandoned. Some of the most distinctive regional Tamasha styles , the Desh Tamasha of Pune, the Konkan Tamasha with its distinct musical flavour survive only in the memory of elderly practitioners.
The documentation crisis is equally severe. Very few Tamasha compositions have been recorded, notated, or archived in accessible forms. When a master performer dies, they often take with them dozens of compositions, performance traditions, and improvisational vocabularies that no textbook ever contained. The loss is not merely cultural . it is the loss of a living language.
That is why it is deeply heartening that Shri Raghuveer Khedkar has received the Padma Shri. The honour comes not just as a personal achievement, but as a symbolic recognition of every forgotten folk artist who spent a lifetime on dusty stages under temporary tents, performing through pain and poverty.
There is something profoundly moving about a man who hid his tears so that others could laugh.
For decades, artists like Raghuveer Khedkar carried Maharashtra's cultural soul on their shoulders without recognition, security, or dignity. They preserved stories, dialects, music, humour, and collective memory for society often at the cost of their own comfort and happiness.
If we truly celebrate this honour today, then our responsibility cannot end with applause and photographs. We must ask ourselves what we can do to protect this dying art form. Tamasha needs audiences, patronage, documentation, institutional support, cultural respect, and opportunities for younger artists.
A dedicated Tamasha Welfare Corporation adequately funded and professionally managed is a need of the hour. The state government's current allocation of Rupees six lakh per artist is a gesture, not a policy.
Maharashtra, which gave the world Tukaram and Dnyaneshwar, which produced Savitribai Phule and Vitthal Ramji Shinde, which built its identity on a tradition of questioning, singing, and speaking truth to power this Maharashtra owes its folk artists a living wage and a dignified existence.
Because when a folk art dies, a part of our collective identity dies with it.
Let us come together not only to honour Shri Raghuveer Khedkar, but also to support the fragile yet beautiful tradition he has spent his entire life protecting.
R. Vimala, IAS Retired &
Social Change Catalyst
PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay
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