Theatre and livelihood, each complementing the other

Last time I talked about the pleasure and perils of marketing ad space in my job as the ad manager for a newspaper that was edited by theatre icon Adi Marzban. I was lucky that I could pursue my theatre passion alongside my livelihood. So today let me take you through my theatre journey under the watchful gaze of the late Adi Marzban.

I was cast in the lead role in a play called Piroja Bhavan, a comedy that tracked the travails of a family that decided to move from their comfortable city apartment to a little place in the country, which they could call their own. There were hilarious moments like when the rain causes the roof to leak or when the next-door neighbour comes on a visit accompanied by his menagerie of cattle and a horse.

Adi’s two leading actresses were both in their early forties. They were brilliant and Adi had no choice but to write plays keeping them in mind. So at the age of 24 with the help of make-up I played the father of a petite, pretty 21-year-old girl.

Piroja Bhavan was followed by the antics of a mad but delightful family in a romp com called Mota Dilna Motabawa. The moment that brings the house down with laughter was when the family’s only sane member, their granddaughter invites her boyfriend’s sophisticated parents for dinner.

By mistake the boy brings them down a day earlier. The boy’s father dressed in a three-piece suit, monocle over his nose, enters with his gracious lady when madness was on in full swing — the dance guru is teaching the eldest daughter Bharatanatyam, another member is sitting on a toy horse dressed as Sikandar with helmet et al posing for a portrait, the grandfather is feeding the snakes and the son-in-law is experimenting with fireworks in the basement. For a change I played the young boyfriend opposite the same pretty young thing.

An all-time favourite of mine was a play called Mari Pachhi Kaun, a tender tale of love about a hypochondriac husband who overheard his doctor talking on the phone about one of his patients whose days were numbered. Thinking it was about him and taking his best friend into confidence he planned to find a man who would make a good second husband for his wife. The hilarious moment came when, after learning he was mistaken, he shared the good news with his friend and his friend retaliated: “What do you mean you are not going to die? I have taken advance leave from office for this occasion and spent so much time and effort in preparing an obituary for the after-funeral service!” I played the husband and the same pretty thing my wife.

The pretty thing that played my daughter, my girlfriend and my wife was none other than the actress who wowed both Gujarati and English theatre audiences during her 40-plus years in theatre. RUBY PATEL, who I wooed for two years, proposed to her while watching the movie The Birds and the Bees and married in 1959.

Adi Marzban, the master of mirth and merriment, produced delightful plays with quaint and quirky titles: Kataryu Gap, Choopo Rustam, Hormusjinu Honeymoon, Gustadji Ghore Chariya, Vanki Puchhrina Vikaji.

I am truly blessed that I could pursue theatre all through my professional life. My mantra to the present generation is simple: Follow your passion be it in art, music or sports so that when you retire you can dig into old memories, connect with your old colleagues, become a mentor to the new aspirants, instead of spending time web-surfing or channel-flipping. At 80 plus, I am at it — the Vodafone commercial, and a nostalgic theatre event Laughter In The House. There is more to come.

The author is a well-known stage personality.