The Day till 7:15 PM
Unlike usual days at any client place, today’s day started and dragged itself through day light with most unwillingness to even introduce itself. Any ways! Now I know , it was just gearing up to blow me off my mind.
7:15 .
With the target to make the remaining half of our evening slight more interesting I proposed going to ‘The Prithvi Theatre’ to my room partner Jay. A true Bangloreite at heart, Jay is always ready for things that add spice to life and this was deemed to be an experience of a lifetime. So we left our room and got the rough idea of address from the hotel manager. Our hotel, Hotel Highway Inn, Station road Andheri east is at one of the most traffic infested places of Mumbai. What we were attempting was almost a fit close to impossible, get a Rickshaw to go from East to West at office hours and through the one ways. We were lucky though that we got a rickshaw in half an hour and walking half way to Andheri subwayJ. Jay asked him to take us to Juhu. On our way, I told the rickshaw that we were actually looking for Prithvi Theater. In fact the news was broken to him just in time so that he took the actual diversion for it, from ‘Pratiksha’, Big B’s second bungalow at Juhu. It took us another 10 mins. from there to a what looked like an entrance to an old residential society. There we were outside Prithvi.
Irish Coffee
A thrust stage, 200 seater hall with a most intimate ambiance that gives you the feel that you have actually stepped on to the stage. Prithvi theater has lived, breathed, and grown on performing art since 1978. It is a part of Shri Prithviraj Kapoor Memorial Trust & Research Foundation which holistically aims at promoting aspiring stage artists with no-profit mode of operation.
As Jay and I walked through the society lanes trying to figure out our destination, the only thought in my mind was ‘It got to be excellent man otherwise Jay is gonna kill me for dragging his ass to this place’. As excellent it was expected to be, more authentic this place was. We were standing outside what seemed like an old bungalow with a big gate and big lawn converted into a cafeteria of some sort. We could see small table, marble platform, small stools and all occupied by crowd of diversity. We could figure out couples, journalists, artists and even an elderly man, bald headed with a white Gandalf like beard, playing a big flute underneath a tree. The music was divine and the tree said the stories of Bollywood’s origin, with the chandeliers hanging from it and bearing old movie posters.
After entering we directly headed to the ticket counter. A black board with white chalk markings indicated the play of the day ‘PEELE SCOOTER WALA ADMI’, hmmm interesting and funny name. We asked the person at the desk for two tickets and beat this – Rs. 50/- each, how less can this get. We took the ticket and headed to the café ‘Prithvi Café’. It was 8:30 PM and half an hour to go for the play. The place was already recommended to me by a friend to be having one of the best Irish coffee. As we struggled to find a place, our eyes fell on the famous actor Makrand Deshpande sitting on one of the tables. We found a place to share underneath the tree near to the barbeque corner. I am a food fanatic and the smell of fresh Tandoori Chicken Tikka was luring me to eat it. But we stuck to our agenda and ordered two Irish coffee. Sipping on the lovely coffee and listening to the FREE divine flute play I could just think of one thing ‘Most genuine amusements of life come cheap and remain priceless forever!’.
Peela Scooter
We had heard the second call bell for the play and decided to get in and take our seat. We entered through heavily cushioned wooden door into a cascade of stairs which doubled as seats and were in a semicircular manner around a small wooden stage. The hall had in itself a mystic intimacy with very few rows and walls to create the best acoustic experience without the use of mike or speakers. The place I knew to be frequented by many actors and in no time was it verified by the arrival of ‘Gangajal’ villain and ‘Babu ji starrer’ Yashpal Sharma. As we were getting a hang of the place a deep voice drew everyone’s attention to a corner of a stage where a young tall man announced the cast and crew of the play in shuddh Hindi as in ‘Dhawni Nirdeshan and Prakash Sayojan’!
The next 75 minutes proved to be a roller coaster ride with loops of laughter, crest of joy and trough of sadness . This was my first ever live experience of professional stage play and I was simply taken aback by the flawlessness of it, be it stage, lighting, sound or the screen play that cut me apart from the rest of the world. The actors, among whom one was Sadiya Siddique , were all masters of their arena. The intensity which these people brought into the room was enormous in itself. Now when am inking down my thoughts a strange fact striks me. In the whole play there were no names, no names to the characters. The fact is there were only 3 character but multiple actors playing their alter egos. But yes they spoke about Indra Gandhis’s death news and they spoke about their dream to open Xerox STD PCO by Savitri’s name. Who is Savitri ? ‘Iska jawab tum jante ho’!
And Phone calls
As the act ended at 10:20 and the actors bowed to the crowd the audience stood up and clapped. Mind you, this was no formality, every one in the audience was filled with gratitude towards the class performance. Any ways, we took the exit and went directly to Prithvi Café to have some fillers. There, next to our table, sat K. K. Mennon, cooly having dinner with his friends and indulging in deep discussions. I sad to my self, this is the part of Mumbai every one must see, the authenticity. As Jay and I shared our thoughts about the experience I called up a dear friend of mine to tell her what all I saw and felt. During the call she abruptly stopped me and gave me the horrifying news. Mumbai under attack. Yes! It all started then. The Taj, The Trident and CST, three icons of Mumbai were under indiscriminate spray of bullets. I could not believe it, how is this possible, I mean, now when am having a time of my life! But my man! This is the new world, vulnerable to acts of human madness. But do we stop breathing, do we stop feeling the small joys of our life? Or should we show the world our strength, our will power of not to go down ‘The Spirit of Mumbai’.
Unlike usual days at any client place, today’s day started and dragged itself through day light with most unwillingness to even introduce itself. Any ways! Now I know , it was just gearing up to blow me off my mind.
7:15 .
With the target to make the remaining half of our evening slight more interesting I proposed going to ‘The Prithvi Theatre’ to my room partner Jay. A true Bangloreite at heart, Jay is always ready for things that add spice to life and this was deemed to be an experience of a lifetime. So we left our room and got the rough idea of address from the hotel manager. Our hotel, Hotel Highway Inn, Station road Andheri east is at one of the most traffic infested places of Mumbai. What we were attempting was almost a fit close to impossible, get a Rickshaw to go from East to West at office hours and through the one ways. We were lucky though that we got a rickshaw in half an hour and walking half way to Andheri subwayJ. Jay asked him to take us to Juhu. On our way, I told the rickshaw that we were actually looking for Prithvi Theater. In fact the news was broken to him just in time so that he took the actual diversion for it, from ‘Pratiksha’, Big B’s second bungalow at Juhu. It took us another 10 mins. from there to a what looked like an entrance to an old residential society. There we were outside Prithvi.
Irish Coffee
A thrust stage, 200 seater hall with a most intimate ambiance that gives you the feel that you have actually stepped on to the stage. Prithvi theater has lived, breathed, and grown on performing art since 1978. It is a part of Shri Prithviraj Kapoor Memorial Trust & Research Foundation which holistically aims at promoting aspiring stage artists with no-profit mode of operation.
As Jay and I walked through the society lanes trying to figure out our destination, the only thought in my mind was ‘It got to be excellent man otherwise Jay is gonna kill me for dragging his ass to this place’. As excellent it was expected to be, more authentic this place was. We were standing outside what seemed like an old bungalow with a big gate and big lawn converted into a cafeteria of some sort. We could see small table, marble platform, small stools and all occupied by crowd of diversity. We could figure out couples, journalists, artists and even an elderly man, bald headed with a white Gandalf like beard, playing a big flute underneath a tree. The music was divine and the tree said the stories of Bollywood’s origin, with the chandeliers hanging from it and bearing old movie posters.
After entering we directly headed to the ticket counter. A black board with white chalk markings indicated the play of the day ‘PEELE SCOOTER WALA ADMI’, hmmm interesting and funny name. We asked the person at the desk for two tickets and beat this – Rs. 50/- each, how less can this get. We took the ticket and headed to the café ‘Prithvi Café’. It was 8:30 PM and half an hour to go for the play. The place was already recommended to me by a friend to be having one of the best Irish coffee. As we struggled to find a place, our eyes fell on the famous actor Makrand Deshpande sitting on one of the tables. We found a place to share underneath the tree near to the barbeque corner. I am a food fanatic and the smell of fresh Tandoori Chicken Tikka was luring me to eat it. But we stuck to our agenda and ordered two Irish coffee. Sipping on the lovely coffee and listening to the FREE divine flute play I could just think of one thing ‘Most genuine amusements of life come cheap and remain priceless forever!’.
Peela Scooter
We had heard the second call bell for the play and decided to get in and take our seat. We entered through heavily cushioned wooden door into a cascade of stairs which doubled as seats and were in a semicircular manner around a small wooden stage. The hall had in itself a mystic intimacy with very few rows and walls to create the best acoustic experience without the use of mike or speakers. The place I knew to be frequented by many actors and in no time was it verified by the arrival of ‘Gangajal’ villain and ‘Babu ji starrer’ Yashpal Sharma. As we were getting a hang of the place a deep voice drew everyone’s attention to a corner of a stage where a young tall man announced the cast and crew of the play in shuddh Hindi as in ‘Dhawni Nirdeshan and Prakash Sayojan’!
The next 75 minutes proved to be a roller coaster ride with loops of laughter, crest of joy and trough of sadness . This was my first ever live experience of professional stage play and I was simply taken aback by the flawlessness of it, be it stage, lighting, sound or the screen play that cut me apart from the rest of the world. The actors, among whom one was Sadiya Siddique , were all masters of their arena. The intensity which these people brought into the room was enormous in itself. Now when am inking down my thoughts a strange fact striks me. In the whole play there were no names, no names to the characters. The fact is there were only 3 character but multiple actors playing their alter egos. But yes they spoke about Indra Gandhis’s death news and they spoke about their dream to open Xerox STD PCO by Savitri’s name. Who is Savitri ? ‘Iska jawab tum jante ho’!And Phone calls
As the act ended at 10:20 and the actors bowed to the crowd the audience stood up and clapped. Mind you, this was no formality, every one in the audience was filled with gratitude towards the class performance. Any ways, we took the exit and went directly to Prithvi Café to have some fillers. There, next to our table, sat K. K. Mennon, cooly having dinner with his friends and indulging in deep discussions. I sad to my self, this is the part of Mumbai every one must see, the authenticity. As Jay and I shared our thoughts about the experience I called up a dear friend of mine to tell her what all I saw and felt. During the call she abruptly stopped me and gave me the horrifying news. Mumbai under attack. Yes! It all started then. The Taj, The Trident and CST, three icons of Mumbai were under indiscriminate spray of bullets. I could not believe it, how is this possible, I mean, now when am having a time of my life! But my man! This is the new world, vulnerable to acts of human madness. But do we stop breathing, do we stop feeling the small joys of our life? Or should we show the world our strength, our will power of not to go down ‘The Spirit of Mumbai’. 
