

IT WAS A RAINY AUGUST EVENING IN AHMEDABAD IN 2024. A group of young theater artists gathered at Scrapyard - The Theatre, an amphi-theatre space, rehearsing for their play, Return to Filastin.
In the play, American-born Palestinian Zed confronts uncomfortable truths as he journeys to Palestine for the first time to explore his roots, ultimately leading him towards a renewed sense of solidarity with his people.
The production was a unique collaboration between Scrapyard, an Ahmedabad based group of young theatre enthusiasts, and The Freedom Theatre, based in the Jenin refugee camp in the West Bank. Having already performed a successful premiere in June, which garnered a warm audience response, the team now faced a new, vital responsibility. They had announced two upcoming shows—one at Natarani Theatre and another at Footlight Theatre—to raise funds for medical treatment for children in Gaza. Though prepared and enthusiastic, their faces betrayed tension, and a serious discussion was underway.
Unexpectedly, an actor had declared he wouldn't be able to perform due to unavoidable family circumstances. With only three days left before the show, they desperately discussed options but couldn't find a feasible solution. A heavy silence, filled with a sense of disheartenment, settled over the room - the sorrow, about potentially not being able to raise crucial funds for children in urgent need.
Just when despair seemed to take over, a team member stepped forward, accepting the daunting challenge of preparing for the role in such a short time. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, filled with joy and excitement. They immediately resumed rehearsal, fueled by their theatre's rallying cry: Natak to Thasej (The play will be performed anyhow).
The next day, the play's director received a phone call from both venues. Teams of police officers from the respective areas had arrived, questioning the performers' identities, their backing, and the motives behind the show. Police also took one of the venue managers in for inquiry, notably without a warrant.
The police demanded to see permission for the script from the Gujarat Sangeet Natak Academy, an autonomous body of the Gujarat government dedicated to promoting and preserving the state's performing arts, including music, dance, and drama.
The theatre group had not applied for the said permission, as they typically performed in small spaces with a maximum capacity of 80-100 people, where police usually did not interfere. Here, however, the script being about the Palestinian freedom struggle had meant a problem. The following day, the Commissioner of Police personally intervened, threatening the owners of both venues. Ultimately, the group was forced to cancel both shows.
The incident mentioned is one of many cases where authorities successfully silenced theatre artists in Gujarat. Government officials draw their power from Section 33 of the Gujarat Police Act, 1961.
This modern law contains provisions similar to the now-repealed Dramatic Performances Act, 1876 (‘DPA’). The DPA  was a colonial-era law first introduced by the British in 1876 to suppress plays critical of their rule and supportive of India's freedom struggles. Ironic as it is, in 2024, the current administration used a law with identical censoring power to halt a performance that intended to oppose colonialism itself.
A law for the Colonial State
The Dramatic Performances Act was introduced in India during the British administration in the year 1876, by then Viceroy, Lord Northbrook, principally aimed to curb the resistance and dissent expressed through small and independent theatre movements taking up shape in India. The law placed restrictions on the content one could use during public performances, even as the State had unchecked powers to interpret the content and the nature of the performance.
Per the Act, if the State interpreted the performance to be disrupting the social values of the Indian society of that time, or if it thought that certain performances had an underlying message of sedition, or if the state felt that the performance could lead to a mass sentiment against it ; then the State had powers to restrict such performance, impose fine and/or arrest the person or group of persons involved in the performance.
At the same time, the Act provided the State with the right to seek information from the person or group of persons regarding any information related to the content or nature of the performance, and vested powers with the State to ‘verify’ the script of the play and grant or not grant permission according to the provisions in the Act.
DPA also gives powers to the State to enter into any property, detain a person or group of persons, seize articles including costumes, objects on the set, etc, whose intended or unintended use is prohibited under the provisions of the act. In short, no play or performance can be performed publicly, or in a public space, without the person or group of persons approaching the appropriate authority under the act and seeking a license/permission from such authorities to perform. The origins of the act, therefore, lie in the control by the colonial State exercising its control over public performances, through the tools of censorship.
Continuation of DPA in post-independent scenario
Post-independence, instead of repealing the DPA, successive central governments upheld the legislation. The Tamil Nadu Dramatic Performances Act, 1954, and Karnataka Dramatic Performances Act, 1964, added provisions to the law and brought about a state-specific legislation that would rather tighten the control of state governments over public theatre. Their powers included unabated authority of local administration under DPA, where it could call upon any theatre activists, cultural activists, and individuals, to furnish entire manuscripts of their plays for the purpose of verification and censorship.
For instance, in 1953, the Indian People’s Theatre Association (‘IPTA’), was put on trial by the district authorities when the group was going to perform Munshi Premchand’s renowned play Idgah in Lucknow. Later, the Allahabad High Court, in its judgment, questioned the constitutionality of the Act and stated that the act is ultra vires, and restricts freedom of speech as promised under Article 19.
In 1953, Malayalam film director Thoppil Bhassi’s play Ningalenne Communistaki i.e. You made me a Communist, was banned by the District Magistrate of Thiruvananthapuram under the provisions of DPA because the authorities felt that such a play could excite feelings of revolt against the state because of provocative materials used in the performance. However, the makers and actors of the play went ahead and violated the ban by performing the play at Kovallam. The Kerala HC declared the ban on the play as null and void shortly after the Communist Party in Kerala and the fraternity of artists publicly protested and opposed ban on the play. While such judgements questioned the constitutionality of the Act, state legislated laws remained in place. These included the one enacted in Tamil Nadu in 1954, in Madhya Pradesh and Kerala in 1961, in Orissa in 1962, in Karnataka and Himachal Pradesh in 1964, Punjab and in Andhra Pradesh in 1956.
This indicated that while movements by people and progressive sections of society did translate into higher courts such as Allahabad High court and Madras High Court, questioning the legality of the Act, the state governments wanted to curb the freedom of speech by exercising powers and authorizing district administration to exercise powers to ban, restrict, censor or control performances using the act.
In 1993, the Act was put under a compilation of Acts by the Central government, which sought to repeal obsolete laws - the Indian Code Compilation of Unrepealed Central Acts. In 2017, the NDA government, led by Prime Minister Narendra Modi, repealed this central legislation. In a prominent speech on March 1 this year, the Prime Minister mentioned:
“Many of these laws were made during British rule. Now I will tell you something, you will be surprised to hear that there was a law called the Dramatic Performances Act. This law was made by the British 150 years ago; at that time, the British wanted that drama and theatre should not be used against the then government.”
He further added:
“This law continued for 75 years after the country got independence. That is, if there is a wedding procession and 10 people are dancing, the police can arrest them, including the groom.”
Interestingly, while the DPA is repealed along with many other colonial-era laws deemed ‘obsolete’, the shadow of the Act remains in Gujarat and Maharashtra, where artists and performers are regularly asked to seek clearances and permissions before putting up performances.
Provisions under Gujarat Police Act and Maharashtra Police Act 1951
Despite the DPA’s repeal in 2017 by the BJP government, when authors spoke to artists in Gujarat and Maharashtra, they learned that artists were routinely asked to seek permission from the police or the commissioner before putting up a theatre performance. In response to an RTI filed by the authors regarding the appropriate authority and appropriate law under which permission is needed for theatre or dramatic performances, the Sports, Youth and Cultural Activity Department provided partial information.
The department said that the Gujarat State Sangeet Natak Academy issues permissions related to theatre/dramatic performances in Gujarat. We also found out that in absence of DPA, Section 33(1)(wa) of Maharashtra Police Act 1951 (‘MPA’)and Sections 33(1)(w) and 33 (1)(wa) of Gujarat Police Act 1951 (‘GPA’), contains similar provisions as that of DPA, whereby the commissioner of police has the same powers to issue permission, scrutinise and censor scripts, detain artists and performers, and/or seize the materials used in the theatrical performance. These provisions of MPA in Maharashtra and GPA in Gujarat, thereby, use the same logic and processes as DPA, to curb artistic dissent. In the absence of DPA, they serve as a shadow of the repealed law to continue censoring artistic voices and performances.
Experience of progressive theatre artists in Gujarat
In Gujarat, historically speaking, literature and art has been dominated by conservative ideas. Under the current government, a stifling environment has emerged for progressive artists who produce critical art. Several theatre artists we spoke to detailed the complex bureaucratic processes (often plagued by corruption and favoritism) required to obtain permissions.
Saroop Dhruv, a playwright, educator, activist, and poetess, and Hiren Gandhi, a theatre director and activist* define the compulsion to get permission for the script from the Gujarat Rajya Sanskrutik Karyakram Pramanpatra Board** (Gujarat State Cultural Program Certification Board) as "pre-censorship". They explained that for films, a distributor must obtain permission from the Central Board for Film Certification (‘CBFC’) before release. A committee reviews the final film product, granting or denying permission or suggesting changes. In contrast, for theatre, a board member reads the script and, through their interpretation, makes a decision before the final presentation is even seen.
This effectively censors the play at its earliest stage, completely disregarding how a director might interpret and present it on stage - a form of "pre-censorship."
The Board's peculiar emergence
Gandhi and Dhruv shared intriguing, often ironic, details about the Board's establishment. As mentioned, the DPA persisted despite the Constitution’s enactment until 2017. The Constituent Assembly, after India’s independence, retained the DPA, granting individual states the right to formulate necessary rules under it, since culture, youth, and sports matters fell within the state list of under Schedule VII of the Constitution. States could delegate powers to District Magistrates or Collectors, which could then be enforced by the police. Most Indian states implemented the law in this way, but Maharashtra and Gujarat were exceptions.
Before the Bombay province’s separation, the government of the Bilingual State of Bombay mandated that the script for public performances be first approved under the Bombay Police Act, 1951. To enforce this, it established the "Cultural Certificate Board” - effectively a censor board.
Gujarat's board emerged in a particularly interesting way. On May 1, 1960, Gujarat and Maharashtra were established as separate states. Promptly, Maharashtra established its board under the Bombay Police Act 1951 (‘MPA’), and in 1969, the Gujarat government announced the Jaher Manoranjan Karyakram Board (Public Entertainment Programme Board). The Public Entertainment Programme Eligibility Certification Rules were formalised in 1975 under the Gujarat Police Act, 1951 (‘GPA’). However, this board didn't become immediately operational.
Until then, artists or organizers seeking to stage a program needed permission from the local police administration. This was primarily to ensure logistical aspects like sufficient seating, washrooms, drinking water, and emergency exits, aiming to maintain law and order at the venue. While artists had to submit a copy of the script to the police to obtain a license, the police did not have the right to make cuts to the scripts.
The turning point came in 1978 when an amateur theatre group - Chorus -planned to perform Nobel laureate Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot in Gujarati. They submitted the translated script to the police commissioner's office, but permission was denied because the police deemed the word "Godot" obscene. While the French word Godot (pronounced /ɡəˈdoʊ/.) refers to "God,"; Godot phonetically comes close to a Gujarati slang. Even as the play's director, Nimesh Desai, reasoned regarding the foreign origin of the word and context, the police did not yield.
This sparked an uproar among artists and intellectuals, leading to newspaper articles and appeals to the state government. After negotiations with an artists' committee, the state government decided to establish a board similar to Maharashtra's, empowered to approve, reject, or suggest cuts to scripts.
Arbitrary rules and persistent hurdles
Once established, Gujarat's board lacked specific rules for member appointments, allowing the state government to make arbitrary choices. In contrast, Maharashtra's board has defined guidelines for appointments. Alarmingly, there's no provision to appeal board decisions, nor an upper time limit for script review, allowing the board to indefinitely withhold decisions. This makes Gujarat's rules more arbitrary and illogical than Maharashtra's.
Furthermore, obtaining script permission from the board isn't enough. Organizers must also submit a copy of the board-approved script to the local police station and obtain a "public arrangement" permit. Without this, no performance can officially proceed, meaning the final decision ultimately rests with the police.
In Gujarat, once an artist obtains script permission from the certification board, they must renew that permission annually, forcing them to navigate the same tedious bureaucratic procedure every year. The case is notably different in Maharashtra, where artists can perform the play for a lifetime after receiving the initial, one-time permission for the script. This disparity highlights the more restrictive and ongoing administrative control placed on theatre artists in Gujarat.
Progressive plays addressing political, social, or cultural themes are frequently targeted through this censorship. Conversely, it has been observed that commercial plays with misogynistic themes or vulgar humour may obtain permission easily.
Early battles: Samvedan Sanskriti Manch
In 1984, Hiren Gandhi and Saroop Dhruv's Samvedan Sanskriti Manch began preparing their first full-length play, Itihas ni biji baaju (The other side of the history), which highlighted the life and works of Shaheed-e-Azam Bhagat Singh. With over seventy actors, it was their inaugural production. They submitted the script to the board and initiated the performance process. When no response came from the "censor board" after a significant period, the group leaders met with the chairperson. They were instructed to completely cut one particular scene and remove some dialogue from another to gain approval.
The targeted scenes instructed to be removed by the board, included an informal discussion between Lord Irwin and Mahatma Gandhi to execute Bhagat Singh and his comrades a day before the announced date. The specific scene, instructed to be cut from the script by the board, depicted a discussion between two rural Indians about the Gandhi-Irwin Pact and their views on Bhagat Singh's hanging, reflecting public sentiment on the historic pact. Despite the group leaders providing historical references from a book by Congressperson Pattabhi Sitaramayya and a biography of Irwin, the board remained unyielding.
Courageously, the group went ahead and performed the play without a "censor certificate" or "police permission". The ensuing controversy gained support through newspaper headlines and editorials. Eventually, the government issued a certificate with "cuts". and the police granted permission. Meanwhile, major newspapers and columnists began to cover the controversy. The group convened a meeting of artists and social leaders, initiating the "Abolition of Gujarat State Cultural Programme Certificate Board" campaign.
The campaign's momentum and setbacks
The campaign gained momentum in 1990 when an experimental theatre group, Garage Studio Theatre, prepared Joseph K no mukadamo (Trial of Joseph K), based on Franz Kafka's novel The Trial. The "Censor Board" refused permission because one scene hinted at a fictional scene where the judge, due to the boring case, looks at naked pictures of women hidden in between pages of law books. The board failed to consider the director's intention to present the scene without explicitly showing the image (perfectly illustrating the concept of "pre-censorship.") The group performed for the board members, who then realized their mistake and issued a certificate.
As part of this campaign, the constitutional viability of the board was challenged in the Gujarat High Court in the 1990s. However, the High Court declared the board constitutional and just, leading to the campaign's dispersion. Nevertheless, it remains notable as the only campaign in India against theatre censorship.
In 2003, the Samvedan Group prepared Suno nadi kya kaheti hai (Listen what the river wants to say), based on the forced displacement of thousands of slum dwellers to make land available for the Sabarmati riverfront - a dream project of then-Gujarat CM Narendra Modi. The script for this play, when submitted to the board, was rejected. The group initiated a nationwide signature campaign, which received a warm response, and the play was successfully performed in Vadodara and Hyderabad, without permission.
A Gujarati adaptation of Snehalata Reddy's Kannada play Sita, which challenged deeply rooted patriarchy in Indian society, was also denied permission. Hiren Gandhi and Saroop Dhruv cited many other incidents that couldn't be included in this article.
The Samvedan group eventually chose to abandon proscenium theatre, producing street plays, skits, and a few plays in third theatre forms to avoid the tedious and tiring permission process. Through their efforts, thousands of young artists became involved in theatre, forming a future cadre of socially conscious artists.
After a few years, the campaign to abolish the board faded. It seemed artists in Gujarat had accepted this censorship, moving away from plays with progressive political, social, or cultural content. Theatre in Gujarat appeared to be reduced to mere entertainment. However, a few artists dared to create progressive plays, facing consequences but keeping the spark alive.
It must be noted that despite the repeal of DPA by the Union government in 2017, the censor board i.e., Gujarat State Cultural Program Certification Board, still exists, and any theatre artists who want to perform either in a public or a private space, with commercial or non-commercial motive, are routinely asked to seek permission from the board.
“Who decides which play should be performed?”
"There is an undeclared emergency which prevails in Gujarat," Hozefa Ujjaini an activist and theatre artist based in Ahmedabad told The Leaflet.
In 2019, Hozefa recalled, when he and his group planned to perform Gujarat ke Muhajir, a play about the lives and struggles of Muslims displaced after the 2002 riots, police detained him on the morning of the show and held him until the performance time.
The police allowed the play only after he assured them that they would remove the poster from social media, refrain from sharing photos or videos, and prevent anyone from publicly writing about the play. Police also threatened them with consequences if any "ruckus" occurred.
In 2020, Hozefa and his theatre group attempted to perform a play advocating for the rights of sanitation workers. The entire group was detained, but they showed resilience, performing the play at the very location where the police held them. On another occasion, when Hozefa wrote a play about Dalit rights, the police stopped the group from performing, questioning, "How can a Muslim person write about Dalits?"
"It was all to create an environment of fear, and the state succeeded in it," Hozefa concluded with despair.
"Plays are being performed only because spectators want to watch them," Aditi Desai, a theatre veteran based in Ahmedabad, told The Leaflet. She went on to ask, "Who decides which play should be performed and which shouldn't? Which is good, and which is bad? Which is useful for society and which isn't? These decisions should be made by spectators. So why is the government making them? This is the fundamental question."
Desai raised a few hard questions: Does the government not trust performers, or does it not trust the discernment of the audience? She argued that the art of theatre is struggling to survive, and instead of supporting and enriching it, the government seems intent on strangling it. "Why are theatre and theatre artists always under suspicion?" she asked, "We are not criminals."
Desai pointed out that other states do not have such boards, so why should artists in Gujarat and Maharashtra have to go through such a tedious process? She said that artists in Gujarat are scattered and lack a unified union to express their opinions and demands to the authorities. Artists, she felt, must be included in the decision-making process.
"They are using censorship as a political weapon”
"They are using censorship as a political weapon," asserted Kabir Thakore, an eminent playwright and director. Thakore, founder of Scrapyard – The Theatre, recounted an encounter in 2011 when his group performed Swadesh Deepak's famous Hindi play, Court Martial, The play centers on an army recruit, Ram Chander, on trial for murdering an officer, and it uses the court-martial setting to explore themes of caste inequality and social discrimination within the Indian army.
After submitting the script to the board for permission, they received it back with cuts. The board demanded the removal of several casteist slurs, disregarding the fact that those words were used in a particular context and the entire plot revolved around those words. Thakore argued that cutting those terms would eliminate the central conflict of the play, but his arguments were ignored. The board also suggested removing a satirical dialogue on domestic violence on women.
Thakore noted that with all the suggested cuts, "there was nothing left to perform." He concluded, "Today, moral censorship is becoming much more dangerous. So many sentiments are always ready to get hurt and attack performers."
Thakore has faced harassment from authorities. He has been summoned countless times by the police simply for allowing political plays to be performed at his theatre, and officers from the Intelligence Bureau are frequent visitors to Scrapyard. Yet, he has consistently kept his space open for political art and critical discussions. As Scrapyard completes its 10th year, it continues to nurture a new generation of artists with political consciousness.
Selective censorship
During the discussion, Thakore highlighted the stark contrast in the board's treatment of different content. He mentioned that overtly misogynistic, vulgar, and obscene commercial Gujarati plays are routinely granted permission and performed without restriction. He cited titles of such plays as:
Bahaar aav tari bairi bataavu (Come out, I will show what your wife is doing)
Maro line to tabiyat fine (You will remain healthy if you flirt)
Trambak Tran bayiwalo (Trambak with three wives)
Jeni Rupali Vahu Tena Bhaibandh Sahu (Everyone is a friend of the person who has a beautiful wife)
Kaka ni kamani padosan ma samani (Uncle’s earnings are spent on his lady neighbour)
Producers of such commercial plays usually publish explicit promotional material. For the play Banevini babaal bahu (Brother-in-law throwing many tantrums), we found print ads with taglines like, "This juicy play will leave you sweating amid winter”.
Such plays consistently draw house-full crowds. No authority ever interferes to stop this vulgarity, and seemingly, no one's "sentiments" are hurt by it. Plays such as Trambak tran baidiwalo and Banevi ni babaal bahu do not face the same level of scrutiny or script examination by the police, as it is done when artists critical of the establishment, come up with theatre performances.
A sea of censorship
Freedom of expression and artistic liberty are restricted through the police acts in Gujarat and Maharashtra, despite the repeal of the central legislation, through provisions under the MPA, 1951, and GPA, 1951.
But DPA and current provisions under MPA and GPA are only a pebble in a sea of censorship and laws used to control, surveill, restrict, or ban performances involving freedom of speech and expression. Far too many instances have taken place in recent times where the Indian state has clamped down heavily on freedom of expression, through both political and non-political actors.
Be it the vandalism in Mumbai by members of Shiv Sena (Shinde faction), at a venue where stand-up comedian Kunal Kamra performed his stand-up act mocking the Deputy Chief Minister Eknath Shinde, or the controversial Broadcasting Bill, later withdrawn by the Center, which sought to bring digital content creators under the umbrella of broadcasters, and hence, censorship, or the re-introduction of sedition through Section 152 in Bhartiya Nyaya Sanhita which gives broad powers to state to interpret any dissenting act in the same breath as that of sedition in the earlier law: these continue the legacies of legislations that instrumentalise how authorities impose control, surveillance, restriction, ban, or censor freedom of thought, expression, speech, critical thinking, dissent, and artistic expression, in India.
Note:
*Both Dhruv and Gandhi significantly contributed to establishing the socio-political theatre movement in Gujarat between the 1980s and 2010s through their group, Samvedan Sanskriti Manch.
**The board is set up under Sports, Youth and Cultural Activities Department, Government of Gujarat.