Tuesday, June 25, 2002

I went to a play, looking for some meaning.
I went looking for someone who would tell me why one part of the world that had been turned upside down could be a better life the wrong side up.

Only succeeded in pushing me farther down the herd...

The play was called 'Mee Nathuram Godse Bolto', loosely translated to 'I, Nathuram Godse'...I slept three fourths through the play. The loud voices got on my nerves, the jingoism lulled me into indifference and the audience made me cringe everytime they got their hands together.

Godse was a man with a mission.
But I know that.
Don't push his strident tones into my ears, don't give him dialogues that make you marvel at how language can become an unwitting tool for propoganda.
Let me touch him, for God's sake. Let me feel his angst and his fervour and his anger. Make me live in his times, make me make those choices, make me jump over the fence.
Don't push me, for I'll go off to sleep.

I miss my 8 hours and I miss Karnad and Kundera. Give me a real play before I switch to the movies.

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