Atul Satya Koushik’s play, “Kahani Teri Meri”, works with difficult ideas, balancing on the double edged sword that is its central concept — weaving together two classic tales from masters of Hindi literature, Premchand and Dharamir Bharti. On paper, the idea comes with reservations, and in writing together the stories of “Gulki Banno” and “Boodhi Kaaki”, Koushik risks choppiness and incompatibility, but emerges with a story so seamlessly put together and so authentic, that it removes any shred of doubt one might have had.
Written and directed by Koushik and presented by Film and Theatre Society, “Kahani Teri Meri” has many triumphs. In its sutradhar (narrator), played by veteran TV and film actor Kiran Kumar, the play finds its glue. Kumar brings to his role an understated, conversational quality, so that the effect is immediately arresting and interesting. Kumar becomes, using an easy, familiar manner, our link to the stage and its story. No longer are we separated from the play, so that what happens in it feels distant and unreal. Instead, Kumar’s approach to the role infuses a certain relatability to the play, and becomes its first strength.
Of course, both Kaki and Gulki have already been immortalised by their creators. There stories have touched chords so personal and emotional that it’s difficult to neatly categorise them as tragedies and dramas. As Kaki struggles with dependency, cruelty, age and unconquerable hunger, Gulki sits doubled over, her hunched back evidence of a bitter, violent marriage and abandonment. Kaushik, in setting both of them, their lives and their families in the same village, brings together their stories without allowing the change to cost either plot too much loss. In his version, Kaki’s family and Gulki’s makeshift home face each other, they treat each other with distant kindness, and while neither directly affects other’s lives, their families do. Kaki’s daughter-in-law Rupa and Gulki’s landlady Ghegha Bua join forces, their noxious ideas coming together to plot and scheme. The resolution of each story stays the same, its core concept preserved, but made even more impactful by virtue of being juxtaposed with its companion. We see how easily they come together, how similar human complexities and relationships are, that through ages and styles and authors, they remain, in essence, the same.
Kaushik’s script is especially complimentary to the play, and he uses village dialect with ease, lending authenticity to this new version of Gulki and Kaki’s story. There is also a certain sensitivity with which he paints the other characters, which brings us to perhaps the biggest strength of this play— the actors who play these roles.
With a heavy, intense script and a story that is based on an amalgamation of two of Hindi literature’s finest short stories, “Kahani Teri Meri” sets its sights high. That it easily, and beautifully manages to make us feel for each of its characters is its real triumph. Gulki and Kaki, played by Wamika Bajaj and Nishtha Paliwal respectively, are flawlessly essayed, and hold the key that first impresses. They deliver their lines with ease, and Paliwal, in the scene where she reminisces about her youth, showcases her strength as an actor especially well.
What is important though, and what “Kahani Teri Meri” manages to do, is pay equal attention to other characters, so that the ensemble cast is equal to the protagonists. Shakti Singh’s Rupa is everything we imagined her to be— easily led, complex, hiding a good but weak heart under its scheming, devious façade. We see her plot with Ghegha bua, lose her patience with Kaki and run into her home for a last minute gift to the departing Gulki. Singh plays her role beautifully, infusing it with genuine complexities. Ankita Juneja’s Satti is another strongly essayed character, and Juneja brings to it a certain amount of determined, quiet courage that is uplifting.
It is certainly a difficult play to watch. In Kaki’s pathetic scramble through the dirty dishes, in Gulki’s quiet, defeated acceptance of her violent, weak husband, in the cruelty and kindness of the villagers, we find traces of recognisable human folly, and the play doesn’t mince words to deliver us home truths kindly. A must watch, really, both to celebrate the beauty of Bharti and Premchand’s words, and the way they have been translated on stage.
