When the days are long, no good movies are playing in town, and South Bombay looks too far, one can still look dearly forward to the evening if one works not too far off from Prithvi (Prithvi theatre for the Non-bombayites)
The place is charming to say the least – even if one is not able to get the tickets for a play, it is easier to come out of the disappointment sitting in the quaint cafe sipping coffee and eating a delicious sandwich. Thankfully, when I went there yesterday I was able to enjoy both the play as well as the sandwich, not to mention the soft lighting and a softer drizzle. The little bookshop thrown in to the experience was what a marketing guru would call ‘customer delight’. Such are the rare moments when I truly enjoy being in Bombay and am able to ignore the excess of people and paucity of roads in this city.
It was a play by Anish Trivedi (apparently of the ‘Still Single’ fame, which is a play I have not yet watched) – he also acted in it along with Dipika Roy.
The play had no story – only a depiction of a man and woman’s conversation as they get thrown together in unusual circumstances. They come from two worlds far apart, but each with a slightly twisted life. For a hour and a half, they keep the audience entertained through their sharp blurbs on each other, in between keeping a little place for romance (of course).
Anish Trivedi had a quiver full of quips – ‘Who do you look like – your mother, your father or the Colonel?’ Even in his introduction of the play he made some sarcastic comments about how he was fascinated with authors whose characters had fantastic lives, while his own came from the real world – a statement I found uncalled for. Through the play I felt his asset was chiefly his arrogance, sarcasm and his attitude, which he played well and used to generate throes of laughter. In as far as acting goes, Dipika Roy was far more convincing and expressive and exhibited the multitude of emotions remarkably well.
The play was not exceptionally brilliant, but entertaining nevertheless. There is a charm to theatre which partly emanates from its rusticity and partly from looking at the actors directly without a screen. The way Pirsig puts it: …the frame is gone. You are completely in contact with it all.