P.K.- A Review
It would be too simple and too simplistic to garner critical praises for Rajkumar Hirani’s P.K. Instead, let us garnish some ingredients that every director must stew in order to boil the perfect broth of
Walking Path- The Sri Lankan Tale
One the young and exuberant stage of Thespo, Sri Lanka’s Walking Path left an indelible theatrical trail to its Indian audience at Prithvi on Friday, December 19. This production whose central premise was the campaign
Sulemani Keeda
With a title that loosely translates into “Pain in the Ass”, one expects the defiant and the irreverent. Thankfully, director Amit Masurkar is protesting against both the money-spinning mindless Bollywood blockbusters as well as the
Osho- The Book of Nothing- Discourse 10- (107 minutes) Personal ponderings post the profound- Part I
Words Beyond Language What does it mean? Osho defines an existence of silence, which is beyond words i.e. beyond the trappings of language. He calls language a trap because language, in essence, is an arbitrary
Hamlet to Haider- A Walk down the Adaptation Road
There was a reason why Shakespeare carved the crown of a tragic hero atop a King- for, contemporary England witnessed a most bloody and conspiring game of thrones. For, the fall of this individual tumbles
Stories in a Song- Stringed with a Soul
Arpana Theatre’s Stories in a Song comes with its own definition- a collage of music, theatre and literature. And then it pushes its own periphery of performance- to encompass history, culture, human nature. Musically conceived
Color Blind- An Aesthetic Vision
Color Blind is an estranged title for a play that revolves around the search for Rabindranath Tagore, the man amidst the menagerie of his aesthetic artifacts. However, nothing is a cloaked mystery to the discerning
Inside Out
It raises its head, Small, nebulous But always furious Grievous Precious Emerging from a hollow within me Plunging into a hole beyond me. It raises its fangs, Sharp, mysterious But always serious Spacious Spurious
दबे हुए से कुछ ख़्वाब
अपनी मिट्टी की भीनी – भीनी रात उसमें अपनों की आवाज़ का बुलाना… अपनों के प्यार की झलक हमेशा ताक – झाँक करना… ऐसे दबे हुए से कुछ ख़्वाब उन्हें जलाए एक अरसा हो गया…
एक लम्हा
एक लम्हा जिया था उस दिन शायद… जब पास थे वह हमारे. जब उनकी मुस्कान को देखकर अपनी मुस्कराहट को दबाया था हमने. जब उनकी कागज़ आवाज़ को सुनकर अपने शब्दों को बदला था हमने.