What question would leading theatrewallahs put to Satyadev Dubey? PT NOTES asked them (Satish Alekar, Vijay Tendulkar, Chetan Datar, Mahesh Elkunchwar), and then asked Dubey to respond. Rishi Majumder was entrusted with the onerous task of keeping pace with Dubey in his elements. It's with this background, that I (Ramu Ramanathan) accompanied Rishi Majumder for the interview. Dubey is always a surprise. I've known him, on and off, for 20 years and have always been impressed by his infectious desire for a conversation. When I accompanied Rishi for this interview, he was waiting in his den for us. It was hot and humid, so he was suitably attired in a lungi. His house, as always, was an exasperating disarray. We sat on the floor, while Dubey drank a glass of unboiled milk and puffed at cigarettes. In between, one of us had to rush downstairs to procure a coffee sachet, biscuits, six bananas. And with a steely determination, which makes him what he is, he mulled over questions and chattered away.
The conversation was more than three hours long - and PT NOTES has had to edit his response to each question - one reason being, Dubey constantly comes back to himself, and his latest play, THAMB LAKSMI, KUNKU LAVTE. Some may say, this is out of artistic vanity, but it is also because Dubey lives in the moment.
MTG editorial
Satish Alekar: Unfortunately, I did not have any personal interaction with Dubey. But he is the one who conducted the Playwrights Workshop in 1973 at FTII as a part of his Homi Bhabha Grant. He invited me to read my first play MICKEY ANI MEMSAHEB. Other participants were Mahesh Elkunchwar, Shankar Shesh, G P Deshpande, Suhas Tambe, Dileep Jagta and Achyut Vaze! I was very young. I had just completed my Masters in Biochemistry in 1973. I started taking playwriting very seriously after this workshop. Discussions on my play made very deep impact on me. Kumud Mehta played a great role in leading the discussion. So you may ask Dubey what prompted him to conduct such workshop ... because this workshop set the ball rolling for playwrights of next generation i.e. after Tendulkar, Sircar, Girish and Mohan Rakesh.
Satyadev Dubey (SD): Shall I be a little nasty?
Ramu Ramanathan (RR): Certainly. PT NOTES is the forum to be nasty.
SD: Satish, over the years, has deteriorated as a playwright. However, he is a good organiser and completely devoted to theatre. So, I will not, challenge his credentials. But when I conducted this workshop in 1973 ... first of all, I had the money and the wherewithal. And the point is, deep down there's a selfish reason. Because when you're exposed to so many plays at one go, you suddenly understand style and ... a lot of things fall into place. I had conducted workshops, later on ... actually a media workshop under Awishkar and Rajeev Naik and Chetan Datar, in which Rajeev was a very big help. During that workshop, I heard Chetan's one act play which he converted into SAAVLYA. That play was discussed, at great length.
Rishi Majumder (RM): Yes, one has heard anecdotes about it from Vijay Kenkre and Chandrakant Kulkarni ...
SD: ... it's one of the great myths, that through these workshops I was doing a great favour to the playwrights. Nobody's doing a favour. Least of all me.
RM: Please explain.
SD: I have to grow. It's imperative to encounter new things. During these workshops, I used to listen to scripts, attentively and react. Also, one re-learns the basics of basics of theatre. Things like plot development, character development, dialectical progression. All the divisions and sub-divisions of a play. For instance, from the last workshop, I remember the concept of Apeksha Poorti and Apeksha Bhang.
RM: Meaning ...
SD: Throughout a play, you have to see whether your scene is fulfilling something, or dispelling something. This has stuck with me. Therefore in my latest play that is the style that has emerged ... Ki Apeksha Ka Nirmaan Bhi Karta Hoon, Aur Apeksha Ka Bhang Bhi Karta Jaa Raha Hoon.
RM: What is the result?
SD: Honestly speaking, I don't know. The play, THAMB LAKSMI, KUNKU LAVTE has developed through the process of direction. I had a young, very disciplined cast. MONTAGE was the first play in this style. In a sense, I've had to learn on my own ...
RR: Lets return to the workshops?
SD: My workshops with individual playwrights have been continuing. Any playwright, is most welcome to come and read a play to me. Whether it is Manaswini or Chetan Datar or Rajeev Naik, I promise to react! If the play is very boring, I will say, "Stop it." I can discern within 10 pages, whether a play is worth listening to or not. Of course with playwrights like Chetan Datar or Rajeev Naik or Shafaat Khan, I insist on getting bored. After all, you do have to pay homage to seniority and spending a lot many years in theatre (laughs, at his own joke). But otherwise, as you know, I've developed the habit of reacting. In this process of reacting, I bring down everything to myself. I am the final test. I ask myself, did I get bored!!!
RR: Isn't that a bit pompous?
SD: There's more to it. ... For instance, thanks to Nissim Ezekiel and P D Shenoy and Dr Swaminathan, and other great minds, I've developed the habit of reacting to language. It began with English. For instance, Shenoy exposed me to Keats to James Joyce. It sensitised me. Subsequently, I could react to Marathi, as well as Hindi.
RR: We came across an article you had penned in the sixties in which you discussed poetry ...
SD: In 1961, I wrote a 4000 word article, where I analysed the new poems. I keep on doing this now, too. It's a habit - you react! And to keep on reacting ... Not that you have to react all the time.
Vijay Tendulkar: Instead of distorting the existing why don't you create instead ? You do sometimes create but it is distorted . What's the way out?
SD: (chuckles) Keep distorting, honestly.
(Long pause. Everyone sips from their coffee cups. Dubey is silent)
RM: That's all you want to say on this?
SD: Yes. This is ... sort of ... giving it to Tendulkar ... since he's so limited with words. Yes, that is the answer!
RR: Speaking of "giving it back", how do you "give it back" to your own script as a director. As in, how does it work in your own mind?
SD: The point is I don't know ... I have to read it out to others and while reading it out, you can get the vibrations. In theatre you know whether the thing is holding or not. It's as simply as that. For example, you ask, "Do you think this scene is boring?" "Kahaan Drop Hua?" That sort of thing. Because ultimately theatre is for an audience. You cannot have a theoretical audience.
RM: So, in a way you have to sample and apprise your play as it goes on?
SD: ... lets consider what Tendulkar says ... distortion is embedded into my psyche. I cannot say, "No, I am not going to distort". That is my way of looking at things. At times, I look at other people's plays which I think I have made better. This is because the commitment was to the play. Later on, none of the writers objected, whether it was Mahesh Elkunchwar or Tendulkar. That's my nature. The one thing is, there's a fair amount of honesty in my reaction. I can be lazy during a production, but my reaction is honest and my intention is honest. I'm not aspiring to make it a viable production in terms of finance or any such thing. I become my final audience. I place myself in the audience's seat, and I must enjoy the thing. Ultimately, I discover the defects of my own play. It's by reading it out and by seeing it!
RM: So would you say the director's faculty is much more than the writer's faculty?
SD: Yes. But I'm a director who is a part writer. I can make changes in other people's plays without distorting that play. It is inevitable! You cannot do without it. That is why so many of Tendulkar's plays have failed. Tendulkar's plays have not been distorted, enough! Fortunately or unfortunately, he was such a fine writer, that his plays become the playwright's theatre. And that's the point, Tendulkar's plays are a good read. But I can't help the fact that I see things in a different light.
RR: And this according to you, is not distortion?
SD: Whatever changes I've made in other people's plays, is not distortion. It is the removal of distortion and giving it a sense of proportion. Everywhere, deep down there's a bond, there's a deeper sense of proportion, which you discover not by using logic. Ultimately, you use words and logic to put across your point. But here, you feel it.
RR: Also more than honesty, in your new production, of course I found the craft and form was numbing, but good ... (Chetan Datar says, "the group choreography is the rejected, left-over maal from the Chabbildas Movement") ... I also felt that you were in a position to do a good play. But there is a certain defiance. You're being petulant and saying, "I shall not do a good play". And you're in a sense, provoking us.
SD: There's no defiance. The only thing is, I've to write, compulsively. I have to write to exist. Direction comes much more easily to me. And through direction I can repair the play. If I can repair other people's plays, why can't I repair my own! With THAMB LAKSMI, KUNKU LAVTE, the play has metomorphised. The basic structure emerged with the rehearsals. 50% of the play was totally changed. I don't understand my play! This happens to most playwrights. They don't understand their play. I am not saying people like Tendulkar cannot understand their own play. They can. It depends upon the brain power. With me, when I start directing the play, I start to discover a lot of things.
RM: Such as ...
SD: With this play, the point is that I'm defying old age. I'm defying the fact that my arteries are getting clogged. You know, CLOGGED ARTERIES may be the title of Shiv Subrahmanyam's play, but I know what it can be. And I have to write and direct, otherwise how will I live? Forget the fact of 'being alive'... This is the source that gives me a sense of being alive. Your fantasies are enacted on stage, the things you imagine. And they have to work on the stage. Now, how many people that were present in the audience, noticed it? They notice my morality. After three shows, I've discovered that I'm still very conventional with it.
RR: (laughs) True, you're much more old-fashioned than you think.
SD: (ignores comment) ... yet there is a quality of originality. Like the 'secular' scene in THAMB LAKSMI, KUNKU LAVTE, I'm simply in love with it. Or my contradictions in my thoughts about the Hindu-Muslim issue, is encapsulated in a very short scene.
RR: That was a good argument. Main Sudhanva Deshpande Ko Bol Raha Tha, Ki Woh Secular Argument, gave us a fresh perspective. Otherwise, it seems, the Secularists have exhausted their arguments.
SD: The implication is, the Hindu girl has to believe in an afterlife. She is born believing in an afterlife. And the Muslim boy, cannot but say Inshallah Aise Hi Ho - even if means being reborn as a Hindu. I think this makes a lot of sense even though I don't have the final answers. But if I can prove this to even two people, then a person with a better mind, can write a book on this subject.
RR: About the actors, Bachche Bhi Bahut Pyaare Hain. Achcha Kaam Kiya, Unhone.
SD: The actors! I'm going to get all the credit for Ketan's performance. But the point is, he's an actor and he kept me going. I told him, "Stop using your mind to decide what is good and bad. Let it come." He did so. I think he's marvellous. For instance, when he gets beaten up, I didn't tell him how to get up and walk. But that is an actor's instinct. He got up and the way he walked is very funny. No director can brief him. Also, the girl who portrayed Lakshmi. I said, "Take your time," because I was very sure that if the play works, this entry has to work. It's a surprise, unexpected entry and the lines are good. And she did take her time and it was because of her... not getting many chances in theatre and all ... she took care of everything. It was one of the most melodramatic and unorthodox performances. I've yet to meet a single person who hasn't liked her. This applies to all the youngsters who went through the workshop and the rehearsal process. Whether it was Aarti who had a false voice. She got a firing, but she improved! Then there was the girl who dances. It was a small role, which developed into a major role. She became confident and performed. They think the director likes them and is doing a favour, but its never like that.
RR: Tell me, where does a director's role stop and an actor's begin?
SD: Yeh Kisko Samajh Mein Aayega.
RR: Still ...
SD: The good actors have been good. And the very bad actors have become not so bad actors. The thing is, with good actors one doesn't have a problem because they bring so much to the play. The point is that there are two types of plays which I do. Those with new-comers, and those plays which need seasoned actors - like the plays I did with Amrish Puri or with Naseeruddin Shah. I know I cannot train a new actor to the level of performance such a play demands. Whether it is DON JUAN IN HELL with Naseer or Vasant Deo's ARANYA which Amrish Puri was reading.
RM: How do you train new actors?
SD: The best way of training people, earlier was, "Okay, do exactly what I'm doing." I would perform the entire scene, the entire dialogue, because my command over dialogue was good. People would say, "You're just making them into a lot of Dubeys,". My response was, "Fine, the point is do you relate to Dubey?" So even in their imitations of Dubey, as long as they are acceptable, what's the problem? Then as I went on and started getting good actors the confidence rubbed off. I started improvising more, and giving actors, scope.
RM: Your thoughts on the audience?
SD: I feel that the audience, that is the people at the receiving end, they transform you. The reason I'm moving to Marathi is, it's the Marathi people who know me. The Hindi speaking people don't know me, and I cannot connect with them. Can you believe that? Although I've conducted workshops in Hindi. In fact I've conducted a Bengali workshop without knowing a single word of Bengali, and it was very successful.
RR: Achcha!!!
SD: Oh yes! 50 people were there. I turned out Hindi speaking boys who refused to speak in Bengali. I said, "The Bengali boys and girls are speaking bad Hindi. If they aren't scared, why should you be? Speak bad Bengali, if need be." Now, I speak very bad Marathi at one level and sometimes I speak excellent Marathi, which surprises people! And I never know. The point is, I know Marathi boys understand Hindi, and a bit of English, but the rapport is created because I speak in Marathi. In fact sometimes people wish they could reproduce my Marathi, which is very difficult. It would need a brilliant writer, and a brilliant actor as well. Even I don't know what is going to emerge.
RM: One thing I wanted to ask was that you've kept a lot of interactions, alive. What do you do to keep those interactions going?
SD: I keep the interactions alive by sort of narrowing my sphere. My target audience is Marathi speaking people. My target is teaching Marathi boys and girls. For starts, they are interested. Ultimately I'm not a teacher who goes to a classroom and collects money. At the end of it, I must feel that I have made a difference. And in my workshops, in my life... well, it's not that all of them have become brilliant actors or all of them comprehend what I say.
RM: Why?
SD: One of the simplest things is, people don't realise that no two actors follow the same system. Ultimately every actor has to find his own way and act well. That means how much he has understood his psychology, and his physical attributes and voice. You never can alter your voice. It's always the same voice. You can create the illusion of a change. The best example is Lawrence Olivier performing Othello. He creates an illusion which the audience surrenders to. He got the West Indian walk, and took the pitch of his voice one pitch or Sur lower. But he was a very aware actor. But he was a personality actor - so at the end of the day, he was Olivier.
RM: Another question actors ask is, can you be yourself on stage?
SD: Don't worry about characterisation! There are so many selves in yourself. Just find them. But be yourself. If you have a good walk, then walk the walk. Like one day I saw an actor walking backstage and said, "Come here, the way you're walking. Why don't you walk like that on stage? You have a wonderful walk!" Just as some people have superb voices, but they distort it because they think, "Acting Mein Aisa Karna Chahiye,". This is where the mind destroys the performance.
RM: So you teach them to do otherwise ...
SD: Most of it flows into the teachings. There are people who are aware, and they grow. If you see this play, LOSE CONTROL, they are young college boys they wrote the play, and directed it and acted in such a way that they lost control. In the process, they became themselves. That's a thing, they have gained from this process. I'm not saying they got from me. In fact I met them before the show, and they challenged me, "We have not forgotten the before". I had taught that there's always "a before" to everything you do on the stage. So if they have understood that one thing, the rest shall follow. These boys were interesting because these were back-benchers, and I noticed them and got them in the front. This gave them confidence. They kept improving on their own. There is a myth that the teacher does it. I think, the teacher is very lucky if he's perceptive.
RM: What's your method in a workshop?
SD: I never know how the workshop will evolve. Sometimes there are 50-odd particpants. How can one observe all of them? One of the things I've evolved in teaching, is, you cannot allow students to get bored. So I make them do all the exercises simultaneously, together. Nobody's left out nor do they have to watch the other person. They have to discover it through their own voice and body. After a while, their concentration improves ... in the middle of an exercise when all of them are shouting, they find their own voice. It does not happen all the time, but most of the times. Therefore the student never gets bored because he is doing something all the time, properly or badly. Also, when my observation is good, I manage to find faults and remedy those faults. I never prepare for a workshop. I think of the first exercise that we'll start with, and even that I change at the last minute. The biggest problem is how to start a workshop. I take the analogy of a car. Now, the ignition has to go on. Once the ignition is on, it's mechanical and you can do it... the gear changing and clutch and gears. But the key is the ignition, which is like the imagination, and has to be triggered!
Chetan Datar: Why has Dubeyji stopped discovering new playwrights?
(Awkward silence. Dubey adjusts his lungi, and extinguishes a freshly-lit cigarette)
RR: Many people are asking that question.
SD: But I have worked with so many new playwrights. I don't know anyone who's directed as many new playwrights as me.
RR: I think, they mean in the last few years.
SD: The point is, suddenly there is a spurt of playwriting workshops. Mahesh Elkunchwar, the British from Royal Court, Tendulkar. My advise to playwrights is, "Get rid of the formalities of all this and catch your nose straight!" In the process a new form will be discovered. Especially since, we know the content. As regard, the new playwrights, why don't they come to me? I've never said no to listening to a play. With the proviso that if it is boring then within the first few pages, I'll stop you.
RM: What do you seek in a play?
SD: As stated, I'm obsessed with language. The language must bring truth. When they say in England, "They're looking out for a fresh voice," people get very impressed. That's what I've been doing. All the playwrights I've enjoyed and performed have had different voices. Between Tendulkar and Elkunchwar, they're two very different voices. Some times it could be similar, but the point is that the playwright's voice has to emerge. Sometimes you have a person like G P Deshpande. In GPD's ANDHAR YATRA, it became clear to me that this man has written a play where one scene is much more alive than the rest of the scenes. For instance, he wanted to re-write and shorten the first scene, and I said no, don't touch it because the first scene is very alive to me. Even though he said it didn't fit in, I said, "It doesn't matter."
RM: Don't playwrights feel threatened when you do this?
SD: GPD can accept an argument. He accepts the reaction which is honest. And I could have been wrong.
RM: So, how do you know?
SD: I have this foggy notion that a play will come to me. I remember, Shyam Manohar's YAKRUT. I had never met the playwright. When he read the play to his wife, and neither of them knew me, she said, "You must get Satyadev Dubey to direct this play." Co-incidentally, he was Dilip Chitre's friend, who was staying downstairs. He came and read-out the play. I liked the play but I wasn't sure. This is where Dilip Chitre helped me, because he is very mad. So he said, "Why don't you reverse the entire thing." And I did and it worked. Without changing a single thing. And so, if you're listening, and if it's coming from a person like Dilip Chitre who has a mind, and who is reacting to language, you can have a happy accident ...
RM: Do such types of happy accidents happen, often?
SD: Like in AADA CHAUTAAL, Dilip, suggested the title. I still don't understand what AADA CHAUTAAL means!
RM: Do you plan for accidents?
SD: (Pause) In the next play, I'm hoping to have an experiment where eight to ten playwrights will participate. I'm hoping to control the design. Quite a few scenes have been written.
RR: Just a minute, like with Dilip Chitre, one of the things I've noticed about you is ... the best ideas and best inputs are from people who're not directly connected with the theatre. So whether it's P D Shenoy or Nissim Ezekiel or Ram Bapat or Dilip Chitre. Why is this so? Is it because people from theatre are unwilling to share ideas, or...
SD: The man, you mentioned to me, the last time, for instance, who is a scientist ...
RR: Oh yes, Arvind Gupta.
SD: The point is, everyone with good ideas, need not be in theatre. They could be teachers or professors like the people you've mentioned. The playwrights, get obsessed with the idea that they're writing a play. In Marathi theatre, there's a myth that the playwright is sacrosanct. I believe, the playwright is like Hindu mythology. You should be able to change it.
RR: But in a day and age, when events unfold at a bewildering pace, to what extent can one contextualise things in the theatre?
SD: Context is everything. More so, in the theatre.
RR: Explain.
SD: Recently I was at Prithvi. I entered the theatre and saw the dress rehearsal of an IPTA play in progress. This is based on the biography that Shaukat Aapa has written. And it was being performed by Javed Akhtar and Shabana Azmi and directed by Ramesh Talwar. I wept. It was plain and simple theatre. The form was borrowed from LOVE LETTERS. Two people sitting and reading letters. Now I've always been against that type of theatre, as my two character plays will reveal. But on that day when I was seeing it, it held my interest because of the associations to Kaifi and Shaukat Aapa. At the end of it, I was overwhelmed. That for me should be the definition of theatre. Now why does your play, 3, SAKINA MANZIL work? First of all, it's a love story. Also it's touching because you keep switching from the past to the present. There's the pain about what could have happened. Like an old friend whose house I haven't visited for a long time. Pain, is very important, because it makes you comply.
RM: Any other plays ...
SD: I loved BANSURI. A girl who starts respecting middle class values, but hasn't accepted them. And so, her search continues. This is a dilemma I connect with. Although I am middle class, at one level I'm an existentialist, and am able to think independently. I've discovered middle class values through a lot of friends who I've known and whose homes I've stayed in. I was extremely surprised and rejuvenated by Gowri Ramnarayan's DARK HORSE which was based on Arun Kolhatkar's life and poetry. Likewise Motley's KATHA COLLAGE - II. Now, the first thing about theatre is - has it been able to grab your attention, and is it evocative? This is the ultimate criteria. Achcha Khaana Khaane Ke Baad Aap Dakaar Hi Maarenge Na?
RM: That's a good one. (Guffaws).
SD: Also, we must avoid the overuse of the same platitudinous words for criticism, without an effort to see their meaning. Sometimes a play is boring because of your own tiredness or mental state. I hate it when someone asks you whether you like a play. I remember having a long discussion with Makarand Deshpande after a play of his, when this young boy, Sanjay, asked me, "But Dubeyji did you like the play?" I said "Look, if I'm talking about a play for so long, I've liked it, else I'd dismiss it!" This is the state of the audience. They are frightened. They want to know whether something is good or bad. They have stopped reacting. I revel in reactions. I remember G P Deshpande's RAASTE. The Pro-Naxal people were upset because the girl had slept with three people. And is casual about it.
RR: Does it matter?
SD: For most people sex is sacred and about marriage. But a person with a higher end ... can without women. I fantasize about them all the time. But I have to maintain a reputation. That's where my conservativeness has helped. I cannot write that play I was supposed to write ... on sex ... as yet! I've been thinking about it, but I can't even say the words. This is what your own language does to you. A Harold Pinter play has an "Up Your Arse." But how will you translate such a thing. The audience has to be mentally prepared. Prithvi Theatre has become a petty bourgeoisie theatre where everyone is smug. When I go to see SAHI RE SAHI, I enjoy it for the performance. The problem is, the audience does not surrender. If that doesn't happen there'll be no play. The audience who does surrender is a confused lot.
RR: Surprisingly, I saw a children's audience at Prithvi surrendering to Joy's CHOTTU SPEAKING and Peter's MINOR MATTERS and Digvijay's TIME TO TELL A TALE.
SD: Even in Makarand Deshpande's play DHONI DHO DAALA, the children were being regaled. Although I didn't like the fact that the actors were stooping to please the audience.
RM: So what you're talking about is a 'quick fix' attitude in the audience when it comes to theatre?
SD: That's what the media thinks. Because the media is looking for a quick fix all the time. I can't relate to newspapers anymore.
RR: Pradeep Guha, the media badshah from DNA newspaper has this terminology: "Adrenaline Pumping Contextual Excitement". That every newspaper should do that.
SD: The point is, there is a limit! You know the concept of inessential thought. When you have a problem, you wrestle with the plot. Either you create a play out of it, or you stay with the problem and it just becomes 'inessential thought'. Why does one forget about sex for months on end while writing a play? Because it becomes an inessential thought. Even in theatre, unless you can visualise things, you won't enjoy it. Plain voices will get very boring.
Mahesh Elkunchwar: How do you see the relation between tradition and modernity?
SD: In all my plays you will see a reflection of this. Tradition and Modernity ... this question is being asked because Mahesh is a professor of English literature. He loves Eliot. This is my answer to Mahesh, "I've also read my Eliot. I love the poet. And if you see my plays, I transformed your 20th century brilliant play RAKTA PUSHPA, into a modern play giving it a different layer of sensitivity, while maintaining the tradition of it. So that is modernity." The play, in terms of time loves tradition, because it is a very well written play. So this is something in your personality and mental make-up. Uou love tradition and yet want to be modernistic.
RR: To some extent, what Elkunchwar has achieved with HAREVLELE PRATIBIMB. I think that would be a coming together of modernity and tradition ...
SD: Yes, PRATIBIMB is a very good play. It takes all the traditional elements and then explores the world of imagination. Unfortunately, after PRATIBIMB, Mahesh hasn't explored that area. I love my tradition, whatever little I have, and my modernity. And the sense of joy has to be there. I mean there are so many psychological problems, I'm tired of them. They're becoming inessential thought. To that extent, perhaps, I'm not with the times. Because I'm reacting as a person. So I can enjoy Kaifi Azmi. I don't like this fundamentalism that's creeping in. Every one wants the ultimate truth. Bullshit. This is where I feel, we must all become Jains. Multiple truths is what is needed.
RM: But how do you continue to redefine modernity in context?
SD: In my last play, I've mixed a whole lot of things. An interview which has taken place for India Today is mixed with a lot of other things. In the theatre, the main thing is, whether it works ...
RR: I think Elkunchwar means modernity in terms of thought ...
SD: You know, there's a book by Fraser on modernity, then T S Eliot's essays on tradition and modernity. I have no problems with even a bad play, if it is well done. Or a so-called regressive play. But this is very rare. The point is, if you've had an RSS background, like mine, and have thought about a Hindu Samrajya and Shivaji, it does touch you. So I cannot define what is 'regressive' because I have avoided it. You enjoy the laughter and situation. You have to surrender. And if you find it regressive, why suffer the entire play? Make a decent exit. Anything that is regressive cannot give a high. Also if there are too many good performance you cant react. Its like all the TV ads sounding the same. And then, why don't people discuss plays unless its for an interview such as this? Most people have very little time. This is sad. I manage to do my thinking because I have time on my hands, which I wouldn't have had if I were in a regular job. So that is an advantage I have, besides having been born a Brahmin, studied English, having had the Anglo Indian experiences. But I would prefer not to work for money. Though it's essential. In fact I tell the people at NSD that when a teacher comes from outside there is a lot of difference because he has a lot more energy.
RR: And the past ...
SD: My past does slowly seep in, but that is the past that helps me enjoy plays like 3 SAKINA MANZIL, or VIRASAAT. And the past is very boring, I have to keep living. If I keep telling stories about my past, who will visit me?
RM: What about the significance of language or words in a play for you personally?
SD: We've been brought up on words, and though I've never been a serious student of poetry, I've read and enjoyed poetry. Somewhere the word is the most important and evocative thing because it tells what visuals cannot. Cinema, for instance, can never be that evocative, despite people like Ingmar Bergman. Ultimately it is literature that will survive later. Amitava Ghosh's The Hungry Tide, for instance, which moved me. Also, words have to be spoken well, which they seldom are nowadays. As early as 54, I was taken to meet Pashwanath Altekar, who spoke that word - Bharat Mata Ram Uwasini. Then he recited the poem. I remember, I had a lisp and could not speak well. And I put a stick in my mouth and corrected it. This is an exercise that I give everyone. That day, I discovered speech. Even a woman, who may not be attractive, can be attractive because of the way she speaks!
RM: Talking about speech and your training process, there's a passage that boy's learn at Prithvi Theatre, which starts with "Hindustan Ka Har Naujawaan Actor Banna Chahta Hai ..."
SD: Yes, well, I used to keep giving the newcomers to workshops a passage to learn, so I thought why not write a passage.
RR: Achcha, Toh Woh Aapka Passage Hain?
SD: (laughs) Who else would write such a brilliant passage? ... Chalo Bas Karte Hain. Bahut Ho Gaya.
Freeze Tableau.
The End.
(Interview organised and transcribed by Rishi Majumdar, who is a theatre worker, actor, and scribe with Mumbai Mirror)
*This interview was first published in the Prithvi Theatre Newsletter (PT Notes) in 2006.