Comedy of Errors

Many a comedy is played out "on stage" and "off stage." The longer the number of years one has been with the medium, the greater the number of errors and louder the laughs. A group of theatre friends sitting in an adda is bound to chew over the happenings or errors that have happened and laugh out loud at the hint of what's to come. After all, these quips have been so often repeated that everyone knows the ending—somewhat like the retelling of the classics of Shakespeare, Sophocles, Mymensingh Gitika or the folklore of Rupban. But no matter how many times you have seen these renditions on stage or how well you know the story, you never fail to appreciate the magic of enactment, again and again.

The other day, our friends, mostly a few generations younger than us, came over for an adda. The laughs came in waves as each one mulled over the incidents of yester years. 

Nagorik Natya Sampradaya, a theatre troupe, was to perform Darpan, an adaptation of Shakespeare's Hamlet in Sylhet. The director of the play, Aly Zaker, who also did the adaptation, is a man of many talents and interests. While the group left for Sylhet in a train, a team of three—Dr. Nawazesh Ahmad, Nima Rahman and Aly Zaker—made their way, in a "firoza" coloured Feroza jeep. The idea was to make a detour through the tea gardens and take some pictures before reaching Sylhet town. It was a case of, as the saying goes in Bangla, "roth dekha kola betcha" (killing two birds with one stone).

The plan did not go as intended.  

The journey was jinxed from the beginning. In those days, there were more ferries to cross while going to Sylhet and invariably, one had to battle a long tailback before reaching the ferry. 

While the Feroza jeep passengers were trying to tip the mastans (thugs) in charge of loading and unloading the ferry to get on it on a priority basis, the other Nagorik members had already reached Sylhet.

Everybody was in the green room at 5 pm for their makeup, oblivious that Aly Zaker was still haggling with the mastans to get an entry onto the ferry. At the ferry, the barometer was rising. The deal was inching at a snail's pace. Even after paying Tk. 1000, the Feroza was nowhere near the ferry. The clock struck 6, and by now, the troupe was worried. This is a tale of a time when cellular phones were not there. Khaled Khan (Juboraaj), who was in-charge of the group and also played the role of Darpan (Hamlet), asked Ruma to get ready to play the part of Kulsum (Gertrude), Darpan's mother—a role that was supposed to be played by Nima. So Ruma put on her makeup and the attire for the role and rehearsed her part as many times as she could.

It was quarter past seven and the Feroza had not yet arrived. So the show started, albeit 15 minutes late. Ruma was waiting in the wings to go on stage. Kawsar Ahmad, playing the part of Claudius, was already on stage. But just then, the Feroza arrived and Nima rushed to the green room, put on her makeup and exclaimed to Ruma: "Sharee khol! (Unwrap your saree) "—What!" cried Ruma, "I'm already in my get-up and have rehearsed the scene a hundred times!" 

They did not know where the director was, who, ideally, should have taken the decision. The clock was ticking away. Nima tugged at Ruma's saree and unwrapped it from her body like "Draupadi's Bastra Haran."  Ruma was crying, holding onto the saree. Nima rushed to the green room, dragging Ruma along with her changed and entered the stage. Kawsar was surprised to hear the unique Usha Uthupp voice. He turned to see Nima sitting next to him. Suddenly Kulsum had a thick, husky voice and a larger stage presence.

Now it was time for everybody on stage to put a lid on their giggles. But giggles on stage is a dangerous and infectious thing. Once it has been set off, it is difficult to control—much like the soda from a shaken up soda bottle, it bubbles up, spills over and takes a while to settle down. In Sukumar Ray's words, "Uthchhey hashi bhoshbhoshiye soda r moto pet thekey" (like fizzing soda, laughter erupts uncontrollably from the gut).

So the noted and much loved Aly Zaker was at the root of the evil. And at the end of the play, he apologised for the error and reprimanded Nima for undressing Ruma and eloping with the role of Kulsum.

There was this other time when Nagorik was invited to enact The Intellectual Ladies by Moliere adapted into Bidogdho Ramanikul by Aly Zaker. In one scene, the servant, who had been thrown out by the matriarch of the house, was supposed to enter the stage. There was still some time before his entry, so Babu bhai, who was playing the role of the servant, sauntered into the billiard room to watch his friends play. He was in costume and wearing sandals, a half-sleeve shirt and pajamas. The bearers of the Dhaka Club were suspicious of the identity of Babu Bhai. He explained to them that he was playing the role of a servant in the play. The bearers would not believe him, and escorted him out of the premise by hoisting him up from either side. Meanwhile, on stage, the cast was waiting for the servant's entrance. He had been summoned back by the meek husband. There was to be a comic scene where the servant was made to come in and go out at the alternate order of the Boss Lady and the Meek Husband.

Anyway, when the servant could not be sighted, it was obvious that we would move on to the next scene. The elder daughter Muna (who was an intellectual like her mother) was to be in thick glasses. But she could not find them, and so, in a hurry, she picked up the glasses of Khoka Bhai who was controlling the light at the consul. He was called by his friends "Kana Khoka," as he wore glasses with a power of minus ten. As Muna entered the stage with those glasses, she did not know where she was and which way should she go! Khoka Bhai was an even greater mess, as he couldn't see a thing without the glasses.

I cannot imagine how we managed to finish the play, but finish we did, taking an apologetic bow to the loud applause of the audience. 

Sara Zaker is theatre activist, media personality and Group Managing Director, Asiatic 360.