State of play: A new book dives into the story of modern Karnataka
There are no teams; no winners or losers. No one is ever knocked out. There is just a seething mass of players, taking turns to be king.
An ancient version of dodgeball is played rather differently in Karnataka.
The ball is thrown up in the air and everyone waits until it bounces three times, counting time with the term “Rama, Bhima, Soma…” (a sort of “Ready. Set. Go”).
Whoever is nearest the ball as it descends a fourth time then grabs it, and is now temporarily king. He hurls it at a target player while everyone dodges. (If a player manages to physically touch the person holding the ball, they cannot be targeted. So the king has reason to dodge too.)
Whoever catches the ball after it is thrown is now king. And so the game rolls on, “an infinite loop across the group, creating an endless web of relationships, until such time as collective exhaustion sets in, or … the bell rings for class,” writes Srikar Raghavan, in his book Rama Bhima Soma: Cultural Investigations into Modern Karnataka (2025).
In many ways, this potentially eternal game mirrors the story of Karnataka, adds Raghavan, 30. “It carries a metaphor of democracy, of perennially fluctuating power. It also reflects the atmosphere of debate and dialogue that is crucial to Kannada society.”

Raghavan, an independent researcher from Mysuru and a research fellow with New India Foundation (NIF), has spent four years investigating the literary, artistic, political and social transformations that have shaped the state of Karnataka.
Part history and part travelogue, his debut book is based on this study. It takes the reader through key turning points or chaluvalis (“movements” or “struggles”, in Kannada), weaving in oral narratives, details from a range of literary sources (non-fiction and fiction), research and anecdotes from his travels across the state, and his interviews with cultural icons.
What emerges is a portrait of a region that is both deeply rooted in tradition and shaped by modern evolutions (and, of course, shifts in power). How much of India’s modern history is concentrated here?
Karnataka was the site of the Kagodu Satyagraha of 1951, the first major post-Independence peasant uprising in India. This revolt saw the lower-caste tenanted deeva community unite to stage widespread protests against exploitative the practices of landlords, in Shimoga district.
Although the agitation was largely unsuccessful and led to the large-scale arrest of peasants, it was among the turning points in the development of the socialist movement in the state, and in the fight for land reforms, which finally took shape in the 1960s and ’70s.
Also traced in the book are the rise and fall of an unusual Left front (partly shaped by the freedom fighter Ram Manohar Lohia, who combined Marxist and Gandhian ideals in his philosophy), Naxalite activity, labour and tribal-rights agitations, and the Dalit-Bandaya movement (a literary and social rebellion in the 1970s, when Dalit writers reclaimed the word bandu, which is Kannada for “unclean” or “inferior”).
And so it goes, wheels within wheels, marking one revolution and then another.
RARE CATALYSTS

Amid the overlapping upheavals, Raghavan pays tribute to some of Karnataka’s pivotal but lesser-known changemakers: writers, artists, feminists, environmentalists.
Before he led the Kagodu uprising, for instance, Kanase Jatya rebelled against caste hierarchies by making a wooden chair and carrying it around the village with him, so that he could sit on it during public performances and plays, rather than sitting on the ground as the deeva were expected to do.
Then there is the lyrical theatre of Du Saraswati, an artist-activist who campaigns for the rights of women and of sanitation workers. She tells of her experiences in one-woman performances in which she plays a chatty grandmother named Santhimmi.
Through these performances, she is quietly trying to build a new mythology, she has said. In one of her acts, Pakshi Purana (Ancient Lore of the Birds), she imagines a world in which men might search for caged birds within themselves, “birds that may preen and cavort and beautify themselves… moving away from unnecessary displays of machismo”.
We also meet Bannanje Sanjeev Suvarna, a Yakshagana artist who has devoted his life to preserving the art form; and environmentalist SR Hiremath, who has led agitations against illegal mining in Bellary, among other campaigns.
MEETING GROUNDS

The book’s sweep extends from the early 20th century to the present day, with references to the Vijayanagara Empire in the 14th-century and references to contemporary struggles and movements woven in. It is organised by theme: literature and socialism; television and theatre; myth, memory and folklore; the Marxist library of Mysore; forest, ecology and conservation, among others.
The change that strikes him as most salient, Raghavan says, is one of ideological culture. From a rich history of negotiation — of tradition and modernity, contrasting ideologies — there has been something of a polarisation, he adds.
“The Hindu Right and socialism, in their push and pull, have somewhat merged and created a centre-right consensus,” Raghavan says. “My hope is that this book will push readers to engage with uncomfortable political and social realities, whether in relation to religion, caste or dire economic inequality. I hope it will also inspire a love for literature, which is a space where one can really scrutinise rigid ideologies, of whatever form and shape.”