There is a term in Marathi, '_hasha umatla_', which means a wave of laughter went through the audience: the ultimate reward for an actor of comedy. This is a specific shade of laughter, an immediate, collective response from the crowd that communicates approval. Skilled orators like P. L. Deshpande were known to often get this '_hasha_' from their audiences with great ease. Marathi epistolary play PATRA PATRI, meaning 'an exchange of letters' written by Dilip Prabhavalkar as published articles, adapted to stage by Neeraj Shirvaikar and directed by Vijay Kenkre in which the two veterans also star, was wonderfully reminiscent of this type of humour – breezy, light and yet, quite clever –humour that can effortlessly draw laughter from the crowd.
Throughout the play, two old friends, Tatyasaheb (Prabhavalkar) and Madhavrao (Kenkre), both retired, exchange letters telling each other about friends, family and the daily goings on in their pensioner lives through five short episodes. There isn't too much movement on stage; both characters sit in chairs for the most part and read out letters to each other. And yet, the storytelling is dynamic. These are ordinary incidents – about a trip to France to visit the daughter, a house robbery, a chance to meet a popular movie star, among others. What makes these stories come alive is the sharp observational humour with which they are narrated, which reveals the often-absurd nature of human interaction.
This kind of humour has become increasingly rare. So many comedies lean toward slapstick. And while that has its own set of dedicated fans, PATRA PATRI's observational humour is not just funny but also a cultural commentary on Marathi society, specifically, the Shivaji Park-Mahim kind. The cultivated urban middle class, not very rich, but living cushy, culturally aware lives. People for whom travelling abroad is not regular but not rare either, for whom getting cast as an extra on a Marathi TV show might happen by chance, without effort, because they knew someone important. This narrative device – 'knowing someone important' – is used to perfection to bring out the humour in the stories. Oftentimes, Tatyasaheb and Madhavrao exaggerate their closeness to these important people to gain favor but end up on the winning side anyway.
Both Prabhavalkar and Kenkre's comic timing and delivery shows us exactly why they are veterans of theatre. They are the odd couple, their chemistry with each other bringing out the best in their individual performances. Prabhavalkar as a bewildered Tatyarao in the middle of an African tribal ritual and Kenkre as Madhavrao reciting his self-important son 'Madhavsut's' banal poetry are especially funny.
There are mentions of Bal Thackeray and Madhuri Dixit opening her dance academy, you can hear strains of the title track to popular TV show _Vadalwat_, all of which places the story somewhere in the late 2000s. And while the stories and milieu make you nostalgic, they don't feel stale or irrelevant. The play is like a happiness pill: loud laughs for the heart and sharp humor for the mind.
*Neha Shende is an avid theatre-goer and enjoys watching old Bollywood movies in her free time.
