Play within the play

not so much to the weaknesses within the institution but to policies pursued by the government. It would be more appropriate to say, in fact, that there does not exist a cultural policy.

What was the need to create three national academies covering all arts? And then why create regional academies in almost all states? Where on earth did a poor and developing nation find the resources to build 27 theatres covering almost all its states, as happened in India in the Tagore centenary year 47 years ago?

Clearly, there was a vision that moved the hearts and minds of a culture-sensitive administration under the leadership of Jawaharlal Nehru. But that initial vision has dissipated and waned. Academies entrusted with the noble responsibility of nurturing India’s rich heritage — still alive in its regional cultures and languages — have become little babudoms, centres of small intrigue and petty politics, indications of a monumental failure of character rather than repositories of Indian culture.

NSD, earlier a part of the Sangeet Natak Akademi, broke away (for good reasons) and became an autonomous institute under the leadership of Ebrahim Alkazi in the 1970s. If you compare its performance to its sister institutes, you must credit it with some success. On the other hand, it is high time to worry about its role and scope in the context of modern Indian and world theatre.

Initially started as a theatre training institute, it seems to have lost its way somewhere down the line. Saddled with enormous responsibilities, which it can’t possibly cope with with any degree of competence, it has become huge and almost unmanageable. Today this institute is a classic example of haphazard growth and ad hoc decision making.

The institute whose primary function was, and one likes to believe still is, training professionals in the field of theatre, is today required to hold extension programmes, the so-called workshops in the nooks and corners of entire country. It runs a professional repertory company, a sizeable theatre-in-education programme for children, brings out two theatre journals, publishes books and other periodicals, organises a big international theatre festival every year, is involved in the ministry’s grants dispersing programme on the national level, doles out awards, and wait, the list is not over yet, soon NSD will have its branches in different parts of the country. Clearly, the focus the institution had in the times of Alkazi is blurred beyond recognition.

How and why has this happened? The answer to this will constitute an interesting story, complete with its own ironies and absurdities. It can’t be told here in all its vicissitudes. So I have a shorter version, in play form, abridged to its very bones, which will apply not just to NSD but the entire theatre scene of which NSD is a part. (This is a pure piece of fiction. Resemblance of any character with any real person living or dead is therefore purely incidental).

Minister: I want to do something for theatre but I don’t know what!

Theatre Artist: There is a proposal.

Secretary: What proposal?

Theatre Artist: Create NTC.

Secretary: Explain.

TA: National Theatre Council.

Secy: What will it do?

TA: It will (a) fund professional repertory companies; (b) rationalise theatre teaching in the drama schools and the university departments in association with the UGC — there is too much meaningless overlap at the moment. And, (c) put in place a regular audit programme of all institutes run by tax payers’ money — make them accountable.

Secretary: We conduct an audit of accounts of every government funded institution.

TA: I am talking of an academic audit. [Pause]

Financial advisor: How much will it cost?

TA: Rs 60 crore per annum to run a dozen reps. In the country.

Member Planning Commission: Chicken feed!

Minister: I want to do something for theatre…

TA: [falling on his knees] Thank you. Thank you! Thank you Ma’am! Thank you Sir!

Member Planning Commission: Please stand up. [He does.] Can you lie?

TA: Lie? Oh! I understand. You mean on stage? That is my profession, sir. We on stage…

MPC: I don’t mean that. I mean… can you lie by linking your proposal to tourism… or… export… or something…

TA: [to the audience] What kind of theatre that will be… I wonder…

MPC: An institute of fashion technology took from us 10 times the money you are asking for… They just said that their project will boost exports! [Theatre Artist looks miserable.]

Corporate Honcho: We can help you. Create a company and share the profits with us.

TA: [On the verge of tears] Profits? I wonder…

Corporate Honcho: Do comedies. In five star hotels. Tickets can go up to Rs 1000 or Rs 2000. [Theatre artist is now sobbing.]

Minister: … but I don’t know what…

Financial Advisor: Chicken feed! … 60 crore… peanuts!

Secy: In these times of disinvestment, how can I ask the government to invest?

[Theatre Artist recognises a man, runs to him.]

TA: Good evening sir.

Head of a political party: Oh, good evening, kalakaar. How is the theatre doing? I don’t get time. Saw a play 10 years ago. [Theatre artist is now at the end of his tether.]

TA: Sir, there is not a word about the arts in your election manifesto. Why?

Head of a political party: How many votes can you fetch?

[A brief silence is broken by laughter. People are laughing at different places, of course, for different reasons. Music denoting the end of a great Shakespearean tragedy.]

The writer is an actor, director and playwright. He is a former director of the National School of Drama maharishimohan@yahoo.co.in