Message outside a house near Bandstand, Mumbai.
Bengaluru has many churches a relic of the British Raj as a part of the former East India Company and the Madras Presidency. This beautiful church is on busy MG Road (Mahatama Gandhi Road). It lies east of the Madras Engineer Group regiment parade ground and thus the name. The church is more than 150 years old and was a Weslyan Mission Chapel for the Madras Army.–https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Madras_Army
Mumbai is the heart of Bollywood and dreams. It is India’s Finance center. Alas it has the biggest slum too. Everyone loves the city but there is no one inspired enough to turn this beautiful city into a clean city. The beaches are filled with filth. The streets are unswept. During the rains you have to walk through muck. There are no pedestrian pathways. Everyone is too busy to care. Mumbai is the neglected old parent in the house. Everyone cares but no one wants to take him to the doctor or make him go for a cleansing walk. Come on Mumbaikars wake up. Clean up your city. Do something for your poor citizens too!
People suffering from various ailments offer candles in the shape of the ailing body part and are miraculously cured. This is famous Mount Mary Church of Bandra, Mumbai. People come from all over the world to offer prayers and light candles in front of Mother Mary’s prominent statue.
Queen Victoria sits patiently under a mango tree frozen in time-Diamond Jubilee Memorial (1897) in the rear lawn of the National Museum in Colombo, Sri Lanka.
A learning experience at the National Museum, Colombo, Sri Lanka.
I love the word Bagatelle and thus it is also the subtitle of this Blog tucked in the corner. One of the things the word implies is a collection of small things. My blog is indeed an attempt to present a collection of small things from my life.
Recently in Colombo, Sri Lanka, I looked up the map and found a road named Bagatelle. I was determined to visit it and that I did. The attached photos are of that road in beautiful Colombo. A land of gentle people.
Dear Liar-Naseeruddin and Ratna Pathak Shah on Shaw
It is so tempting to use the Shah on Shaw pun that even the playwright/director could not resist it in one scene. I would go one step ahead and call Naseeruddin the Shahenshah or better with husband and wife there it should be Shah n Shah of Indian Theatre.
It was therefore a treat for me to revisit Prithvi Theatre and see these stars perform this play on George Bernard Shaw and Mrs. Patrick Campbell’s correspondence. The play is set at the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth century.
Let this review be a guide to theatre at Prithvi. Stand where there is that quaint little stand up board saying “Q.” There was utter confusion as to whether the queue was for our play or some show in the house opposite. I was surprised with so many actors around no one uttered ‘Hum jahan khade ho jaayen line wahin sey shooroo hoti hai.” Thank God I did not say it for I noticed they do have bouncers of an ancient sort- ‘which reminded me again of the Amitabh Bachchan line holding up a tiny security guard high up by the collar and saying, ‘woh bolo jo neeche bola tha’ in Satte pe Satta.
Needless to say both Naseeruddin and Ratna Pathak Shah did enormous justice to their stage roles. English after all is not their native language but they said their lines with aplomb and precise diction. Even a Henry Higgins would have been proud of their pronunciation. Both did great justice to and through their roles. Of course no one can doubt his English after the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and The Perfect Murder.
I felt a bit like Devyani Chaubal or to be more precise like Nawazuddin Siddiqui in “Mom”as the incognito detective. I noticed Manish Malhotra with Raj Zutshi; a folding chair appeared near the entrance after Act One and in came a very bearded Kunal Shashi Kapoor; A bit later in came Randeep Hooda. I will add names later of all the actors I saw some from television and some from the periphery of stardom.
I did feel that I was a part of a big cultured family. Everyone behaves except for the few with loud mobile phones; one with an immensely large mobile phone screen had an incoming call ring loudly and it seems he did not know how to switch it off; he ran in the dark for the exit trampling over many people. I think the doors were locked and I could hear him scratching at the door like a cornered rat for a long time. It takes all kinds—In ending –Hooray for the Shahs of Indian Theatre and its dedicated lovers.