I do not claim to be any authority whatsoever on the matter
of drama, but simply a passionate victim that has been moved to scribble a few
words on paper.
It’d been a while since I’d been to the theatre; for ‘Netflix
and Chill’ had been the norm for a while now. But gladly, things haven’t
changed :) A glance towards the stage portkey-ed me to the time I learned to respect
it with the beloved Workshop Players in Sri Lanka. The sanctity of the stage
they called it; and I remember discovering its personality. An elegant and
steadfast father who saw us fall and cry, laugh and love; humbly elevating us to
moments in the spotlight.
The announcements were brief, the crowd took their seats and
anticipation was in the air. It was mind blowing what I felt in that moment of
utter silence. Not a sigh nor a sneeze, nor a cry or a cough. At this point I
must applaud the audience. There are a few things people agree on these days
and I can’t be more thankful that decorum in the theatre was one of them. There
are few moments in life that you’ll never forget because it made you feel something,
a sort of physiological high if you will; and this was one of them.
A beautiful rendition of Eine Kleine Nacht Musik proceeded
the silence played on guitars which not only brought another set of wholesome
memories but was the perfect overture for a unique play.
The spotlight panned across the stage and gracefully settled
itself onto Naseeruddin Shah who as it happened become the embodiment of Einstein
who had been lying on the floor of the apartment the entire time. Without any
ado, he swept the room with a flawless German accent as he starts recounting
anecdotes from his early life; all the while subtlety letting on the sloppiness,
the arthritis and the forgetfulness of the great man.
He flirted and charmed the crowd, bringing us to jolts of
laughter with the kind of humour the world had forgotten. He became a huggable
grandpa we all wanted as he entrapped us all in his tiny apartment and even invited
a couple of audience members onto stage to explain a theory of physics. The
whimsical lines written by Gabriel Emmanuel (A German Jew) brought out the part
of science we all liked as a child; the curiosity, the discovery, the magic. It
was all so enthralling, we were on the edge of our seats; and mind you it was one-
man show! With his words and emotions, he conducted us to the tune of Einstein’s
life, loves, regrets; as well as his simplicities and habits.
The lighting and music did excellently to make subtle on
point changes to the tone of the narration; the epitome of which lead to a
terrific and powerful shot of Einstein’s shadow cast on the mushroom cloud of
1945.
To me, it has reignited a thankfulness for genuine Drama in
India, and the scope of extending its heavily needed presence into the fabric
of modern Indian culture. After all we’re forced to think what it means to be an Indian.
“Politics is harder to understand than physics”- declared the play. Let it not
live on for the sake of tradition but to carry forward the passion of art and
storytelling into the generations to come.
It’s all very well to witness a technologically growing
society with a corresponding growth in BMI; but the reason why voices of
singers and expression of actors will always move us is because they are
imperfect. And being imperfect is to be human, bringing us together like a gravitational field. .
