Class of '84: The Review

I was tucking into a delicious mallu lunch at my uncle's place, when a friend called me up asking if I wanted to catch the play, Class of '84. She described it as the story of a class reunion, reminding me of a suspiciously similar musical that I had thoroughly enjoyed circa 1999. Considering the fact that I had nothing better to do, I decided to watch the play. On my way to the NCPA auditorium, I had this thought at the back of my mind that I would have to compare Class of '84 with the aforementioned play.
Thankfully, all that both the performances had in common, was the reunion plot device.
I will not allow myself to get ahead, and I will review the play as best as I can. The stage setting was sparse and simple. Before the play started, we had a fun game of 'Guess what the set represents'. However once the play started, all the (minimal) props on stage were utilized to transport us to a beach house: at certain instances I felt guilty of staring into the private life of seven adults reminiscing their past. The story is simple and straight forward: the funeral of a common friend brings back seven buddies to a beach house, for one night of bonding and nostalgia. The self deprecating humor used to introduce the play gave me a positive impression of the production house, Rage Theater Group. Not many Theater groups, nay people, would be willing to crack a joke at themselves.
The simplest stories usually provide the perfect setting for the most multidimensional screenplays and Rahul Da Cunha (Writer, Director) uses this to full effect. The characters that were etched out were believable: Atleast one of the characters reminded me of people I know. I really liked how the characters frequently broke the fourth wall oh-so-casually to discuss their state of mind. The seven characters (with another getting added later on) collectively covers the whole gamut of human emotions and might as well have been a poster boy for national integration (In your face, MNS, Hah!). Mallu, Punju, Goan, Small towner from outside Delhi and of course, the Mumbaikar: The whole lot is covered. Although the play is based in the aftermath of a funeral, the play is interspered with witty dialogues and hilarious situations, case in point: The scene before the intermission. The sarcasm and dark humor of the play resonated with my personal sense of humor; considering the ROFL audience, I am guessing a lot of other folks felt the same way.
Rahul Da Cunha's job as a director would have been considerably reduced by having such a brilliant star cast. Honestly, I haven't seen most of the star cast perform before, but one can just say that the actors are doing a good job when they incorporate even the most subtle mannerisms of their characters into their body language. I should mention that the actors deserved an extra round of applause for their impeccable sense of comic timing.
My personal favorites in the play were the actors essaying the role of the dope smoking beach bum, the loud Punju (Rajit Kapur) and the lady who was into new age meditation techniques. Although I have mentioned my personal favorites with regards to performances, we were unable to reach a general consensus even in our small group. This just reflects how everyone in the cast put in great performances, each one endearing themselves to a different set of people.
The play doesn't have an eventful climax, rather a few thought provoking questions were mentioned. As the lights came back on, and I got back to the comforting presence of pals from college, I could not but help think on what the future would hold for us. As we were clicking pictures and cracking jokes outside the imposing structure of the NCPA, I felt that theater had given us a cruel peek into the state of our friendship, 20 years ahead of time.

P.S. Since we didn't see any program guide being handed out, I had to rely on this link to help me complete this review.

A Tale of two WHAT?

Before starting of with this post, let me apologize to anyone who maybe offended by me taking the name of a classic in vain. Considering the fact that movies have to put up with name changes thanks to offended communities, it wont be long before we have people offended with nonsensical blogposts.
However, I refuse to apologize for this story I put forth. This incident takes place in my engineering days, when I was an inmate of the men hostel. Isn't it strange that they refer to people who reside in Hostels as inmates? I thought inmates was used to refer to those-who-we-don't-dare-make-fun-of-for-fear-of-our-lives. In other words, People safely locked away in mental asylums and prisons.
Come to think of it, our hostel was part loony house and part correction facility.
In our mad house hostel, we used to have these impromptu gatherings in a hapless victim's room. Dapaankoothu music was almost always on the CD players, barring the few months when we repeatedly played Jassi Gifts 'Lejjavathi'. We imposed a moratorium on 'Lejjavathi' once we realized that we had started talking to each other in Gibberish rap, the language in which the song was recorded. Some of the studious types amongst us were never happy with the idea of us taking a break in their rooms. A classic case of which was Dildesh*. Needless to say, this reluctance was a green signal for us to invite ourselves to his room.
So there we were, chilling in Dildesh's room, soaking in the music, discussing Advanced Digital Signal Processing the hot girls in our rival college. All of a sudden, the ring of a cellphone interrupts us. As Dildesh was taking a shower, one of us in the room goes over to answer the phone. He picks up the cellphone and barely takes a look at it, when he rolls onto the floor, laughing rather hysterically.
Not realizing what had caused this reaction, we were all shocked for a moment. Impossible scenarios darted through our analytical minds: Could it be something like 'The Ring'? You pick up this phone call and laugh yourselves to death?
I braced for the worst and stepped over my still-hysterically-laughing friend to pick up the phone. I picked up the phone and looked into the display. Which was when I realized what had prompted the ROFL reaction:

There, on the display was the innocent message identifying the caller:

"Papa3 Calling..."

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*- Dildesh was a typical example of the innovative nicknames we had in college. No, I wont be revealing what it means. No, I wont tell you what mine was.
P.S: It wasn't what you thought it out to be, you Perv! Dildesh went on to clarify that as his ancient phone could only store a number against a contact, this was his ingenious solution to store his Dad's many phone numbers.

Abu Dhabi: First thoughts

My head felt as if it had a thousand tons applied on it, the feeling you get when you cram overnight for board exams. The fool of a pilot thought it wise to depressurize the aircraft only a couple of minutes before hitting terra firma. I looked around, only to figure out that the rapid depressurization was having the same effect on others in the aircraft.
After going through the above paragraph, I have come to the conclusion that there is no future for me as a pulp fiction writer.What the hell, whats important is that I have reached the place where I was born!
Yes my friends, I am in Abu Dhabi as we speak/blog. After the rather painful incident in the aircraft, I thought it only fit to go over to my cousins place and have them join in my pain! My moms advise to catch one of the free (you heard it right, fellow cheapskates: FREE) buses doing the rounds was promptly turned down so that I could walk the distance. This was the city I walked my legs off for innumerable tuitions : what better way to catchup with it?
On the way, I see some kids wearing the uniform of my school, ADIS. This, when they should have been dozing of in Mr. Fanta's* chemistry lessons. They say change is constant, but somethings never change!
Walking further down the road, I notice that someone had decided to weed away any non-20th century influences, the city may have had. The familiar Souq (old market) has given way to some modern looking monstrosity, the apartments with the Giant billboard has vanished into thin air. I watch stunned, as I see that the school buses in which i had to sweat and grin until the 10 th standard, now seems to provide air conditioned comfort. The utility of this, when the mercury is at 16 degrees, is highly questionable though.
I will soon be catching up with the friends who made this city special. Have no clues on what to expect, hope a few pleasant surprises are thrown my way.

* Real names cleverly concealed to protect Privacy Reputation.