Frankly Speaking: Conversation with Behrupia Chetan Ram – The Last Face of a vanishing art  carrying a centuries-old tradition by Harish Monga

A Bahurupiya, - I call it as Shapeshifter, - is a versatile traditional folk performer who transforms into different characters through costumes, expressions, voice and acting. Much like a one-person theatre artist, he brings multiple characters to life through his remarkable performance skills.

My conversation with Chetan Ram was not merely an interaction with an artist; it was a glimpse into a fading cultural tradition. Behind every face he wears is a story of generations, struggle and an enduring love for people. In a time when mobile screens have replaced street performances, Chetan Ram’s journey reminds us that traditional art survives not through money alone, but through the smiles, respect and affection of its audience. His stage may be the street, but his art carries the memory of another era.

Here is full text of interview :

Harish Monga: Chetan Ram ji, tell us about yourself and your family’s connection with Behrupia art.

Chetan Ram: My name is Chetan Ram. My father was also associated with this traditional art. Our family has been carrying the Behrupia tradition for generations. My grandfather and great-grandfather were also Behrupia artists. I grew up watching them perform, and eventually I became part of the same tradition.

Harish Monga: What kind of characters did you perform earlier?

Chetan Ram: Earlier, we performed almost every kind of role. We became Ravana, Gujjar, Lohar, Tipu Sultan, Tura Singh and many other characters. We kept creating new acts and presenting different characters before the people.

Harish Monga: What was the response from the public in those days?

Chetan Ram: It was wonderful. When we performed in villages, children would follow us and elderly people would also walk along with us. When we performed in a market, shopkeepers would leave their shops and people from the entire market would gather to watch us. People enjoyed our programmes with great enthusiasm.

Harish Monga: So, was Behrupia art a source of livelihood as well?

Chetan Ram: Yes, it was. We earned our living through it. But honestly, the love and respect of people were more valuable to us than money. Sometimes we got food and sometimes we did not, but when people laughed, appreciated us and showed affection, we felt satisfied.

Harish Monga: You have mentioned that you performed in many places. When was this particularly active?

Chetan Ram: Around 2010, we were performing regularly in towns and villages. We travelled to places such as Abohar, Sri Ganganagar, Hanumangarh, Tarn Taran, Chohla Sahib, Kapurthala and many other areas. Wherever we went, people welcomed us.

Harish Monga: Did you have to seek permission before performing?

Chetan Ram: Yes. Earlier, we had to obtain permission, and even today we cannot simply perform anywhere without permission. Whenever permission is available, we try to perform. This work is how we support our families.

Harish Monga: How has the situation changed from the old days to today?

Chetan Ram: There is a world of difference. Earlier, there were no mobile phones. People had fewer entertainment options, so they appreciated our art. Sometimes people would invite us ten days in advance, asking us to come to their village. They would even arrange accommodation and food for us through the village Sarpanch.

Today, the value of this art has declined. People are busy with their mobile phones and other forms of entertainment. The affection we received earlier is not the same anymore.

Harish Monga: Yet you still visit shops and perform. Do people continue to support you?

Chetan Ram: Yes, many people still do. When I visit shops, people give me whatever they can—sometimes Rs 10 or Rs 20, sometimes Rs 100 or even sometime more. Very rarely does anyone send me back empty-handed. I believe it is the grace of God and the kindness of people that keeps our hearth burning.

Harish Monga: Some may think that you are simply going around asking for money. What would you say to that?

Chetan Ram: No, we do not simply ask for money. We perform our art. People watch us, laugh and enjoy the performance. Whatever they give us out of affection, we accept happily. Our real earning is the happiness we see on their faces.

Harish Monga: What does this art mean to you personally?

Chetan Ram: It is not merely a profession for me. It is in my blood. My son sometimes tells me, “Father, why are you still doing this? Learn another business.” I tell him that even if I earned one crore rupees through a business, I would not get the same satisfaction. If I cannot visit people, ask about their well-being, make them smile and see them laugh, I do not feel fulfilled. I may earn a lot of money, but I would not enjoy that life.

Harish Monga: Do you think the next generation will continue this tradition?

Chetan Ram: I don't think so. My children are educated and they look at this work differently. My son tells me to open a business, a vegetable cart or a tea shop. But I tell him that this art gives me something no business can give me—the love of people.

Harish Monga: Where does the tradition of Behrupia and Nautanki come from in your family?

Chetan Ram: It goes back to the days of kings and Maharajas. Our ancestors performed Nautanki and Behrupia acts when royal families and large gatherings would come together for entertainment. As times changed, our art also changed.

Earlier, we performed at one place before a gathering. Later, we began travelling through villages, markets and even from house to house. Today, we may perform ten or twelve small acts in different places.

Harish Monga: What inspired you personally to become an actor?

Chetan Ram: As a child, I watched films and became a fan of actors such as Mithun Da. I loved his dialogues and acting. I would repeat his dialogues with my friends and imagine that one day I would also become an actor.

I remember performing film dialogues with the children. They would laugh and tell me, “You cannot become anything.” I would tell them, “I was born into Behrupia art, and I will make something of myself through it.”

I eventually realised that perhaps I would not enter films, but I could take my acting to the streets, villages and markets. That became my stage.

Harish Monga: Do you still perform film dialogues and different characters?

Chetan Ram: Earlier, I remembered many film dialogues. I used to perform them with great enthusiasm. Later, as my children grew up and my responsibilities increased, I gradually changed my acts. I began creating my own dialogues and characters, including comic and satirical roles.

Harish Monga: What has happened to the old Behrupia groups that used to perform with many artists?

Chetan Ram: Earlier, a village programme could have ten or twelve people. One would become a woman, another Gujri, another a madam, and others would take different roles. The entire performance was like a small theatre.

Today, that tradition has almost disappeared. We are often left with only a few artists and a much smaller form of performance.

Harish Monga: You have also spoken about the present social atmosphere. Does it affect your work?

Chetan Ram: Yes. With the spread of drugs and the changing atmosphere, we sometimes feel afraid while moving through markets and streets. We have to visit shops every day for our performances, and we do not want to get caught in any unnecessary trouble.

Earlier, people saw us as artists. Today, sometimes they see us simply as people who have come to ask for money. That hurts.

Harish Monga: What is your message to society?

Chetan Ram: Respect traditional artists. We are not merely asking for money. We are carrying forward an art that our ancestors preserved for generations. We bring smiles to people’s faces. If people continue to encourage us, this art can survive.

Harish Monga: Finally, what would you like to say about the future of Behrupia art?

Chetan Ram: Times change and generations change, but art should not disappear. Our Behrupia tradition has travelled through generations, from the age of kings to the streets and markets of today. We may not have much money, but we still have the love of people.

For me, that love is my wealth. My audience is my bank, and their smile is my reward.

My Frankly Speaking Note:

Frankly speaking, A Bahurupiya, - I call it as Shapeshifter, - is a versatile traditional folk performer who transforms into different characters through costumes, expressions, voice and acting. Much like a one-person theatre artist, he brings multiple characters to life through his remarkable performance skills.

My conversation with Chetan Ram was not merely an interaction with an artist; it was a glimpse into a fading cultural tradition. Behind every face he wears is a story of generations, struggle and an enduring love for people. In a time when mobile screens have replaced street performances, Chetan Ram’s journey reminds us that traditional art survives not through money alone, but through the smiles, respect and affection of its audience. His stage may be the street, but his art carries the memory of another era.

Interviewed by HARISH MONGA