Comic challenge for the Dikshits
Shanta Gokhale
I must kick off this column with a correction. The new cultural organisation which presented the Odissi dancer Sharmila Biswas’s lecdem at the Cama Institute is called First Edition Arts, not First Education Arts as I inadvertently made it out to be. It’s going to be a name to watch. Its Diwali concert with Shashwati Mandal and Vyankatesh Kumar on Saturday was also a hit.
On Sunday I decided to drop serious culture for a bit of simple, unadulterated fun. I saw Goshta tashi gamtichi (A fun story) at Shivaji Mandir. But before the promised fun began, one had to endure excruciating pain. Not only did the play start half an hour late, but during that time screaming promos of forthcoming Marathi films were projected on the side of the stage.
Many in the audience are also like him. For their sake the curtain rises to reveal a reassuring box-set with the telephone ringing insistently, just as it has done on the Marathi stage for eons. But if you think this groan-worthy start heralds the conventional dramatic build-up from expository beginning and exploratory middle to explosive end, you are fortunately mistaken. What you’re going to get are two acts of light-hearted, purely theatrical play-acting.
The problem starts with Kunal throwing a bombshell at his father. He wants to start a business, not rot in an office chair all his life. His father’s jaw drops all the way to the floor. To bring him around, Kunal suggests they play games in which they will challenge each other to do things they have never done before. Kunal sets the ball rolling by challenging his father to say, “I love you,” to him. That’s as impossible a task as getting an elephant to climb a tree. Angry and frustrated, Sanjay ends up shouting venomously, “I hate you.” He loses round one.
In revenge, he throws Kunal out of the house for three days, challenging him to survive on his wits. Kunal not only survives but comes back wiser with the experiences he has had in the outside world and is now even more determined to start a business. At one point Sanjay, frothing at the mouth, holds up his worn-out chappals before his wife Vasanti (Leena Bhagwat) to show how he has pinched and scraped for Kunal’s future. But does Kunal care? Ha! If he did, would he habitually put his sneakers on top of his father’s chappals, to show him wordlessly what he thinks of him?
The game that produces maximum hilarity, but also some ennui because of its inordinate length, is Kunal’s challenge to his father to take Vasanti out on a date to Juhu beach. Now Juhu beach is in Vile Parle (W). That makes it another planet for Sanjay; and going on a date with his wife, an unthinkable, almost improper idea. But Vasanti is super enthusiastic. With much coaxing and prodding from her, Sanjay melts and wins the challenge.
Of the three characters in the play, Vasanti is the coolest. While the two men spend their time spitting fire at each other, she continues with her chores, enjoying the fun. And when the noise threatens to get too loud, she shuts the windows to prevent the neighbours from listening in. Kadam and Bhagwat are old hands at comic timing and their unscripted interjections, looks, gestures and moves bring the house down. Ketkar infuses his role with all the vitality of an ambition-driven youth.
We’ve known all along that basically, the Dikshits love each other, and all will be well at the end. So it is. Does this mean Kunal starts his business? No. But who cares? That wasn’t the point of the play anyway. The point was to get Sanjay Dikshit to stop behaving like the Rock of Gibraltar and become human. That mission is accomplished. End of play.
I must kick off this column with a correction. The new cultural organisation which presented the Odissi dancer Sharmila Biswas’s lecdem at the Cama Institute is called First Edition Arts, not First Education Arts as I inadvertently made it out to be. It’s going to be a name to watch. Its Diwali concert with Shashwati Mandal and Vyankatesh Kumar on Saturday was also a hit.
On Sunday I decided to drop serious culture for a bit of simple, unadulterated fun. I saw Goshta tashi gamtichi (A fun story) at Shivaji Mandir. But before the promised fun began, one had to endure excruciating pain. Not only did the play start half an hour late, but during that time screaming promos of forthcoming Marathi films were projected on the side of the stage.
The theme of Goshta tashi gamtichi, written by Mihir Rajda and directed by Adwait Dadarkar, is as old as the hills — the generation gap. Only here, the gap is more like a valley. On one side stands the father, Sanjay Dikshit (Mangesh Kadam), a middle-class Marathi manus; and on the other Kunal (Shashank Ketkar) his abrasive, with-it son. What adds edge to their conflict is the fact that Dikshit lives in Vile Parle (E). That makes him a very special strain of middleclass Marathi manushood. His home, neighbourhood, time-tested values, social ideas and middleorder job are like his security blankets. Try to tear them away and you draw blood.
Many in the audience are also like him. For their sake the curtain rises to reveal a reassuring box-set with the telephone ringing insistently, just as it has done on the Marathi stage for eons. But if you think this groan-worthy start heralds the conventional dramatic build-up from expository beginning and exploratory middle to explosive end, you are fortunately mistaken. What you’re going to get are two acts of light-hearted, purely theatrical play-acting.
The problem starts with Kunal throwing a bombshell at his father. He wants to start a business, not rot in an office chair all his life. His father’s jaw drops all the way to the floor. To bring him around, Kunal suggests they play games in which they will challenge each other to do things they have never done before. Kunal sets the ball rolling by challenging his father to say, “I love you,” to him. That’s as impossible a task as getting an elephant to climb a tree. Angry and frustrated, Sanjay ends up shouting venomously, “I hate you.” He loses round one.
In revenge, he throws Kunal out of the house for three days, challenging him to survive on his wits. Kunal not only survives but comes back wiser with the experiences he has had in the outside world and is now even more determined to start a business. At one point Sanjay, frothing at the mouth, holds up his worn-out chappals before his wife Vasanti (Leena Bhagwat) to show how he has pinched and scraped for Kunal’s future. But does Kunal care? Ha! If he did, would he habitually put his sneakers on top of his father’s chappals, to show him wordlessly what he thinks of him?
The game that produces maximum hilarity, but also some ennui because of its inordinate length, is Kunal’s challenge to his father to take Vasanti out on a date to Juhu beach. Now Juhu beach is in Vile Parle (W). That makes it another planet for Sanjay; and going on a date with his wife, an unthinkable, almost improper idea. But Vasanti is super enthusiastic. With much coaxing and prodding from her, Sanjay melts and wins the challenge.
Of the three characters in the play, Vasanti is the coolest. While the two men spend their time spitting fire at each other, she continues with her chores, enjoying the fun. And when the noise threatens to get too loud, she shuts the windows to prevent the neighbours from listening in. Kadam and Bhagwat are old hands at comic timing and their unscripted interjections, looks, gestures and moves bring the house down. Ketkar infuses his role with all the vitality of an ambition-driven youth.
We’ve known all along that basically, the Dikshits love each other, and all will be well at the end. So it is. Does this mean Kunal starts his business? No. But who cares? That wasn’t the point of the play anyway. The point was to get Sanjay Dikshit to stop behaving like the Rock of Gibraltar and become human. That mission is accomplished. End of play.
Disclaimer: The views expressed here are the author's own. The opinions and facts expressed here do not reflect the views of Mirror and Mirror does not assume any responsibility or liability for the same.
