Piyo Chai Suno Kahani

Why bitter can’t be better

As another new year soon dawns for the Parsis, it’s time to ponder: Why have Gujarati plays that don’t sugarcoat the pill been nixed by Navroze naatak audiences?

Drama was the dominant form of entertainment in urban India from the 1860s to the 1930s. Influenced by British travelling troupes, Parsi companies performed on elaborate proscenium stages, decorated with heavily painted curtains which rose on declamatory acting and mechanical devices creating spectacular effects.

This theatre took a new turn post-Independence, its standard bearers being writers of the stature of Adi Marzban, Pheroze Antia, Dorab Mehta and Homi Tavadia. “Not a single of Pheroze’s scripts had any room for negativity,” says his actress wife Moti. “Fans said, ‘Saara dara per aapuneh rarvu nathi, we won’t weep on festive days.’”

Credited with more brilliant versatility, Adi Marzban was challenged to switch or combine genres. Thousands of theatre-goers simply could not accept the bleakness of his play Asha Nirasha, a worthy sequel to the popular Sagan Ke Vagan. Critically hailed but commercially rejected, Asha Nirasha examined the trajectory of loneliness and loss. Sensitively scripted, meticulously rehearsed and competently acted for eight months, it closed after eight shows. Despite some lighter lines, audiences rejected – the seriousness. Only one word associated with Parsi plays stuck in their minds: comedy.

Realism was just about all right. Tragedy, never. Despite the resistance to the infusion of deep content, Marzban did address contemporary concerns sporadically. Mancherji Konna was strategically set against the backdrop of Indo-China hostilities, Pakar Maru Puchhru fronted Bombay Parsi Panchayet politics.

But public perception presumed him incapable of generating anything but laughter. So much so, that he too came to believe their assumption and justify it. In a 1971 interview to veteran writer Bachi Karkaria, he said, “People don’t leave tragedy behind at home to discover it has stalked them into the auditorium. When God’s in his heaven and all’s well with the world, people can, with relieved detachment, watch tragedy. Not otherwise.”

So, Navroze Mubarak everyone! With hearty wishes for the year ahead… ushered in with a big bellyful of corny, yet spirit-lifting, laughs in the hall to which you’re headed.