Saat Teri Ekvees-3

All About Women 

When producer Manhar Gadhia put got seven writers to pen monologues and seven directors to work with seven actors,  Saat Teri Ekvees was an unheard of experiment in Gujarati theatre.

Then he did another set, and now a third-- this one unique because one director --Pratik Gandhi-- also an actor himself, handled the seven new pieces all about women. There is just one female writer among the group of seven, though it does not seem to make a difference to the production's distinct feminist bent.

Considering Gujarati theatre is mostly commercial and caters to an older demographic that prefers family dramas or comedies, two stories in this edition of Saat Teri Ekvees stand out for their cheekily bold content.

Ami Trivedi stars as Apeksha in 

the piece written by Abhinay Banker. She is an interior designer in her late twenties , not too worried about her single status, but has a younger sister waiting to be married, so she has to agree to an arranged match.

Then follows the usual round of meeting potential grooms, some of whom she rejects and some turn her down. Apeksha has one guilty secret-- she loves Govinda films.  Trivedi does an energetic Govinda dance which brings the house down.

To appease her father she has to learn Bharat Natyam and to appear sophisticated to her clients, she has to hide her passion for the star. "If I told a client I liked Govinda, in what colour would they picture their wall?" she asks wryly.  Any who has seen Govinda films would get it. But in a hilarious way, Govinda comes in the way of her getting a perfect suitor.

If Apeksha understands the problems of a smart and independent Indian woman forced into the marriage market, she is still bound by tradition. Toral, in Rahul Patel's Toral Joshi Tinder, played by Tusharika Rajguru, throws tradition out of the window.

She has no inhibitions about dating men, acknowledging her own needs and expectations and resorting to Tinder (a dating or book up all, for those who are still unaware).  If she is pragmatic enough to agree to marry a guy because he is rich, she is also practical about his shortcomings. Total is a refreshing change in her total lack of coyness, Rajguru plays her with understanding and wit so that she never appears slutty. That would offend a conservative audience.

The other five women are also interesting in their own way-- the auto driver, the harassed home chef who blossoms under the attentions of a young man, the Japanese soul looking for a welcoming womb to be born as a girl, the woman craving a child, the lonely star, Madhubala-- but these two will undoubtedly appeal to a young audience. The fact that they were applauded heartily goes to show that the box-office favours the brave.

Chakravyuh

Enter The Maze

The Mahabharat has so many stories that lend themselves to the stage. There was the classic Andha Yug and many versions of Draupadi’s point of view.  Atul Satya Koushik’s Chakravyuh places Arjun’s son Abhimanyu at the centre.

According to the epic, when Arjun was telling his wife Subhadra how the tough battle formation of the Chakravyuh is to be entered, the foetus of Abhimanyu heard it all and retained it; when Arjun was telling her how to get out of it, she fell asleep, so Abhimanyu gained just half the knowledge.

The Battle of Kuruskhetra, between Pandava and Kaurava cousins was savage and not always in keeping with the accepted rules or warfare.  Even the righteous Pandavas with Lord Krishna on their side, were not averse to deceit.

When the Kauravas find that they are not making any headway in the war, they found a way of getting Arjun away from battlefield, and tried to lure the Pandavas into the Chakravyuh. However, only Abhimanyu (Sahil Chhabra) managed to get in, was trapped and killed by seven of the greatest warriors on the Kaurava side. He was only sixteen when he died, and left his pregnant wife Uttara to cope with his tragically premature death.

Koushik has set-up the battle sequences very well, even though the overuse of bright LED lights and the smoke machine was a bit jarring. The glittering costumes were obviously inspired by the TV serial which had Nitish Bharadwaj in the role of Krishna, which he reprises in this play.

The play, written in verse, is a delight to hear, and most of the actors speak Hindi with admirable clarity. Chakravyuh actually comes together in the second half when Krishna has his say. When Uttara asks how she will bring up a fatherless child, Krishna talks of how the male and female are part of everyone, and women have always managed to channel their male side to raise their children on their own.

He also derides the tendency of everyone—from Draupadi to Bhim—to make grandiose vows. If it weren’t for Draupadi’s vow never to tie her hair till she could wash it with Duryodhan’s blood, the war may not have been fought with such brutality; if it weren’t for Bhim’s vow to kill Duryodhan and Dushassan, Abhimanyu would not have spared their lives in battle. And finally he explains the meaning of the Chakravyuh, and why it is so tough to get out it.

It was undoubtedly a coup to cast Bharadwaj as Krishna, he has tremendous stage presence and the carries off the role with gravity tinged with just the right touch of humour.

Var Khali Don Pay

Remains Of The Play

Jaywant Dalvi’s Marathi play Purush, first staged in 1980 and was a huge success. Over the years, it has had several productions in many languages, and top stage actors vied to play the protagonist Ambika and antagonist Gulab Rao. The play was undoubtedly sensational and provocative, and swept into its then unpredictable story line, gender and caste issues as well an examination of machismo, corruption, power and its misuse by politicians.

To recap, a teacher and social worker Ambika who takes on the might of a venal politician Gulabrao. He is an uncouth and arrogant man, who rapes Ambika simply to humiliate her. Ambika, the daughter of a Gandhian, tries to go the legal way to get the man punished, but fails. Her mother commits suicide out of shame, her fiancé dumps her.  In the end, she castrates Gulabrao, literally depriving a man of his manhood, which he has used as a means of oppression.

How does the play stand up to the test of time, particularly after the Nirbhaya case, which brought about a change in laws and attitudes towards the survivor. The onus of blame shifted from the victim to the perpetrator which is how it should always have been but was not.

A new play, Var Khali Don Pay, produced by Astitva and Rangalay, written and directed by Hrishikesh Koli, takes off from Purush and comes up with a play that asks: what if? Or what then?

A fresh production of Purush by a young team is underway, and while the director (Rohan Gujar) talks pompously of subtext and surrealism, the actress (Mayura Joshi), who is to play Ambika, cannot quite get a hang of the part.  In a parallel track, Gulab Rao of the play (Sushil Inamdar) does not want to commit the crime, even when egged on by Ambika (Nandita Dhuri), who wants him to remain faithful to the play.

Ambika’s Dalit fiancé Siddharth, who, in the play refuses to marry her after the rape, comes in for some soul-searching; two relatively minor characters, Ambika’s friend Mathura (Pallavi Patil—dressed in revealing costume with her leg in a chain) and her husband Bapurao (Sangram Samel) are given their own moment in the spotlight. Ambika’s parents (Chandrakant Mehendale-Smruti Patkar) are held up for ridicule.

Over the long play (a set scattered with rather obvious symbolism), many subjects that arise from the play are discussed, debated and shredded.  In spite of its running time and verbosity, it reaches an audience that is probably thinking about a lot about the issues, since rape far more heinous are splashed in the media every day.  Perhaps that is why, Purush, with its gory end still appeals to people – women, in particular—because in real life, the rape conviction statistics are still abysmally low.

Two Aadyam Plays at G5A

The Little Black Box

Two new plays under Aadyam's Season 3, were staged at the G5A blackboxtheatre, and the experience of watching them was very different from whatit would be at a conventional venue.

With flexible staging and seating, it is more exciting for the performer aswell as the audience that gets a kind of immersive experience.
Mohit Takalkar, doing a Hindi version of his wonderful Marathi play GajabKahani, in a witty adaptation by Amitosh Nagpal, used all four sides of thespace, and had the audience in swivel seats, turning around to facethe action wherever it took place.

Gajab Kahani is based on Portuguese writer Jose Saramago's book TheElephant's Journey, about a Solomon, an elephant (played by GeetanjaliKulkarni), making a tough journey from Lisbon to Vienna with his mahoutShubhro (Ajeet Singh Palawat).  Solomon was sent as a wedding gift by theKing of Portugal to Archduke Maximillian. Nobody gave a thought to thetravails of the poor beast or the loneliness of the mahout in alien lands

In the play the epic journey is simplified; the sets are made of rough woodand it is up to the audience to imagine palaces, forests and a ship. It isa story of great endurance and friendship between a man and beast--moving,funny and engaging.

Earlier, at the same venue, Danish Husain's Guards At The Taj wasperformed. The award-winning play by Rajiv Joseph, builds a stunning satireour of the legend that Shahjehan had the hands of 20000 workers chopped off,so that nothing as beautiful as the Taj Mahal could ever be built.  Men whohad laboured for sixteen years on the emperor's tribute to his beloved wifeMumtaz Mahal, were  'rewarded' in this hideously cruel manner by anuncaring ruler.

The two men ordered to carry out this task are lowly Palace guards  (Joy
Fernandes and Vrajesh Hirjee), whose friendship, loyalty  and sanity arestretched thin by the terrible job they have to do. The interpretation of this act is left to the audience's imagination, and it is so easily linked to what is going on in the world today, with egotistical rulers and subservient masses quick to be provoked to violence.

Husain used two sides of the space, while audiences were seated on the remaining two sides and in the centre. The ones in the centre had to get up and turn their chairs when a scene shifted to the other side.

Both productions maximised the use of the space and got the audience toparticipate in innovative ways.