Indian Writing

Yesterday we went across to Prithvi to see Girish Karnad’s new play, Flowers. Tickets were sold out - Saturday night in Juhu, and it’s a Karnad play after all - but past experience has shown us that someone or the other is generally looking to sell extra tickets, and yes, we were in luck. One by one, we got our tickets, and as we were early, we also managed to get good seats - mid-level this time, as Arundhati Nag advised those of us standing in line, because of the unusual set design.

There was the smoky fragrance of dhoop around us, and long ropes of blue light, as we waited for the play to begin. We didn’t have to wait long though, as plays at Prithvi generally start on time.

This Rangashankara and Rage co-production has been directed by Roysten Abel with Rajit Kapoor performing the 90-minute monologue. The visually breathtaking set design, by Roysten Abel and executed by Shashidhar Adapa and Selva Kumar, consists of an elevated platform, such that the solitary character seated on it appears almost suspended in the air. Below him, on a stage scattered with tiny white jasmines, is an urli decorated with flower garlands. Just visible, in the shadowy darkness behind the urli, is a heap of jasmine flowers sloping gently over a Lingam.

The man sitting on the platform stands up, turns around to face us and begins to speak. The setting is a temple, and the man is standing above the temple tank. He is the temple priest who has been worshipping the Lingam for years, decorating it with fresh flowers every day, softening the black stone with daily worship, talking to it, even discussing contemporary politics with it. A married man, he lives with a devoted wife, children and old parents. One day a courtesan, Chandravati, comes to offer prayers at the temple. The priest is attracted to her. One day, when she does not appear in the temple, he goes to her house to find out the reason for her absence. She tells him that she is having her menstrual period. When he visits her house again, after two days, she has had her cleansing bath. She invites him to decorate her naked body with ropes of flowers, the way he has always been decorating the Lingam. Their affair continues like this, but one day, on the night of the play, the priest must confront his powerful conflicts - the pull of love on one side, and duty on the other; his love for Chandravati, his love for the Lingam, his loyalty to his chieftain, and his loyalty to his wife.

It’s not Karnad’s most powerful play - my favourites are Tughlak, Hayavadana, Nagamandala and Taledanda. I also felt that its English title, Flowers, didn’t quite fit for a play with such a serious theme. Nevertheless, it’s a beautiful, moving work, with some superbly crafted sentences, a rising sense of conflict, and a fine, controlled plot - the hallmark of Karnad’s best work.

But for a 90-minute monologue, Rajit Kapoor’s performance was disappointingly lacking in feeling and energy. At times, he seemed to be reciting his lines, rather than enacting them with the passion of a conflicted, desperate man. I thought the play deserved better.

Why didn’t anyone tell me the movie was this much fun? Things I loved about this first film by Reema Kagti:
- the sub-plots, all six of them. My favourite pairs were Kay Kay-Raima and Shabana-Boman. My favourite sub-plot was the Aspi-Zara story (there’s a reason why they look so vacuous :)).
- that the couples came from different parts of India, and there was humour, but no one was just a trite caricature.
- the RJ capsules to tell the background stories of each couple. Lively narration by one of my favourite RJs, Harsh.
- the dialogues written by Anurag Kashyap. Some great lines there.
- the use of old Hindi film songs - Aandhi, etc etc. Very nice!
- Shabana Azmi. I’m always amazed at what she can do with a role, and what a pity that while there are more and more roles being written for the ageing Amitabh, new filmmakers haven’t tried to use Shabana’s incredible talents to their fullest.
- Boman Irani. I love that wacky story he tells the foreign tourist about how he and Nahid (Shabana) first met. And the way he goes “There! There!” at imaginary dolphins.
- the Boman-Shabana kiss - I think it’s my favourite smooch in Hindi movies, not that there are too many to choose from.
- the gay sub-plot, handled intelligently rather than in an eeeks-he’s-gay or nudge-nudge homophobic way.
- Raima Sen. Boxing, martial arts, paragliding, and good comic timing! I also liked Vikram Chatwal in his role, and Sandhya Mridul in hers.
- Kay Kay, Kay Kay, Kay Kay. He is superb as the melancholy Bong and even better when he cheers up…
- Kay Kay’s dance, on the ‘happiest’ day of his life. Here’s a video clip of Kay Kay and Co dancing to Sunidhi Chauhan’s marvelous Sajnaji Vari Vari.

Things I didn’t care for:
- the rest of Vishal-Shekhar’s music (other than Sajnaji and the use of old songs).
- the limited use of Ranvir Sheorey, who has far more talent than this role allowed him to show.
- the boring cinematography.
- the uneven pacing.
- Amisha Patel. Her performance, not just her role. I know she was supposed to be the clingy new bride and all, but the way she’d say “lollipop” was cringe-making.

Via email from Abodh:

She had an unwilling free ride from Borivali to Churchgate on the 6:19 am Churchgate slow from Borivali. We get a call early morning when she must have reached Khar about a dog, which must have been hurt and was moaning in the ladies first class compartment. We take down the details as in the train no and also calculate the ETA at Churchgate and rush to Churchgate station. We think it would be better taking the injured dog down out at Churchgate station than in the middle for want of time as the suburban train would halt very briefly at its various stops. We inform the Churchgate station master who is very helpful and checks on the whereabouts of the train. It seems that the train is just outside Churchgate station and is expected to arrive any moment on platform number two.

We rush onto the platform and wait at the point where the first class ladies compartment would be coming. The train comes to a halt. We check the train number on the compartment; it is the same one that the caller had given. We search the ladies compartment thoroughly… there is no dog. We then check the next compartment, yet no dog. We go back to the first one for a double check and she is sitting under the seat. We had missed her earlier as we had a grown up injured dog in our mind and not a two-month-old puppy. She lets out a whine and wags her tail. We take her out. She is very scared and confused but continues to wag her tail. We walk down the platform with her and show her to the station master, thank him and are off in a taxi and she sleeps soundly, tail wagging on the lap.

We thus decided to name her Bogie. She is too small to have climbed onto the train by herself. She must have been put in by some cruel person who dumped her in the train and had no empathy of what she would go through in the journey or where she would end up.

Bogie is being temporarily housed by a WSD volunteer and is looking for a good home and if you know anyone who would want her do call WSD on 23733433/9892974973 or e-mail wsd@wsdindia.org . She is brown with a black snout, has floppy ears and is adorable. She wags her tail all the time and should we say that she is used to traveling on a Mumbai suburban train?