It has been a hectic week for Amol Palekar. With two shows of ‘Kusur’ (The Mistake), his latest play, in Delhi and one in Chandigarh, the reclusive actor-director is busy like never before. A social thriller that deals with the prejudices we carry knowingly or unknowingly, the play was the opening act of the ongoing 21st Bharat Rang Mahotsav.
With the sound of azaan playing in the background, Palekar got a standing ovation when he walked down the stage of Kamani Auditorium, something the veteran will cherish for a long time.
Next morning, when we meet at the India International Centre, Palekar is sipping warm water to nurse his vocal cords. He admits, at his age, performing the 90-minute play, is “extremely demanding, not just physically but also emotionally.” But the response from the young audience keeps him fresh. “I am an unknown entity for most of them as far as theatre is concerned. They know me only through my work in films. When they say they would cherish the play for the rest of their lives, it gives me goosebumps.”
An adaptation of the Danish film “Den Skyldige” (The Guilty), the story of one night centres on retired Assistant Commissioner of Police Ashok Dandvate (played by Palekar), who volunteers to work in the emergency control room. He gets many calls but the one that catches his attention is that of a woman called Kaveri, who is presumably trapped in a life-threatening situation in a moving car being driven by her husband. She seeks help and wants Dandvate to take care of her son who is alone at home with his younger sister. As the drama unfolds, Dandvate, who has a murder charge against him, starts questioning his bias. Mounted with his wife Sandhya Gokhale, Palekar describes “Kusur” as a theatrical experience that has not been tried in any Indian language.
Rising above differences
“In our day-to-day life, we refuse to go beyond our preconceived notions. The play is about how we look at our social space only in terms of caste, language, and religion. If we are ready to accept that — oh! I never realised that I had this bias — things will change automatically. This is a simple thing which as a protagonist I could relate to,” explains Palekar.
The soliloquy towards the end where Dandvate regrets he didn’t know that it was a crime, reflects the essence of the play. The play is relevant to the times we live in, as the prejudices are growing. “It is for each one of us to look within and find an honest answer,” says Palekar. “What I feel very nice from the response to the play is that it lights a spark. People come backstage and say they would introspect,” he adds.
Sound design plays a crucial role in “Kusur” not only because Dandvate is in conversation on phone for most of the duration of the play but also because Palekar and Gokhale have consciously used it to add to the tension and create a claustrophobic atmosphere on stage. Be it the sound of boiling water, or Dandwate clearing his nose, the audience could feel the little sounds and meaningful silences. “ “In theatre, and to some extent in films, we have neglected sound as an entity and as a character,” says the actor-director.
Significance of sound
In theatre, he says, the value of sound is limited to the actor’s spoken word and background music. “In films, it has reached to such a stage that there is not even a single moment of silence. I feel we are scared of the silence because it poses a number of questions. It poses a question to the actor that if he is not able to hold that silent pause, people might leave the theatre. That’s why the director slips in some music, some sound.”
Palekar says he was always fascinated by the role of sound. “When I directed Mahesh Elkunchwar’s ‘Party’, I took a conscious decision that we will not use any recorded sound. In tense moments, we used the sounds of clinking of glasses, the opening of a soda bottle. We played on all such sounds as part of the sound design to deal with the silences and the spoken word. And it worked!” he fondly remembers.
The play is a “gift” from his wife on his 75th birthday. “A year ago, while holidaying with our daughter we watched this Danish film. Suddenly, Sandhya asked if she adapted this into a play , would I like to be the protagonist,” recalls Palekar with a glint in his eyes.
It took Sandhya, who apart from her achievements in the creative field, is also a competent lawyer, six-seven months to convince the producers and director-co-writer Gustav Moller to grant the theatre rights of the film. “When we watched it, the film was not much heard about but by the time she contacted them, the film became big. It was the Danish entry for the Oscars in the Best Foreign Films Category. Moreover, Hollywood also got interested in buying the rights,” says Palekar.
Having practised in the U.S. for 10 years, he says, Sandhya could handle it. “They respected the fact that we were the first ones to approach them. Another little hurdle was that they wanted word-to-word translation. Sandhya was not interested in that as European sensibility is different. She said she would be faithful to the spirit but wanted to adapt it to the Indian context. She also offered to send what she wrote. They were so happy that they gave us the rights to adapt it to any Indian language.”
The rights come for a price. “The royalty that we are paying is quite high but Sandhya says that it is her gift to her beloved husband,” gushes Palekar
Few know that Palekar, an alumnus of JJ School of Arts, started as a painter and is known for his abstracts. Usually, creative people move from realism to deeper layers but Palekar moved the other way round.
Beyond the words
“The moment you say abstract people tend to think it is not their cup of tea. But, if you think a little more, emotions and feelings are abstract. What is love? It is so abstract that one can find any number of layers of complexity in that,” he elucidates, adding abstraction doesn’t mean being obscure.
Sandhya, who has observed him closely, says, “His career, in theatre, films and visual arts started at the same time. During the first eight years , he was doing all the things simultaneously but abstraction is his first preference. Even in scripts, he tries to find much more than it is on paper. He is always interested in what goes on beyond the words.”
“Paheli” which he directed, she continues, “is the epitome of the mainstream: songs, dance and Shah Rukh Khan. Still, if you watch it closely, it takes you to abstraction.”
Palekar reminds of “Thoda Sa Roomani Ho Jaye”, his much-loved musical, where he used dialogues in verse. “I wanted to use all the elements to my advantage without having any preconceived notion to seek answers to my questions,” he analyses.
And how did he justify Ram Prasad and Laxman Prasad, his most popular and loved characters, to himself? “People actually forget the actual character who is playing the two protagonists. You always keep talking about the double role. It is actually three. The original boy, whose name nobody remembers, is playing Ramprasad and when he gets entangled, he starts playing Laxman Prasad. But both are role-playing. Again, looking for that core, is what I have been trying to do,” signs off Palekar. That everyman’s smile is still intact!
Capital memories
The standing ovation that Amol Palekar got in Delhi had a different meaning for him. “I have seen over the years how the Delhi theatre fraternity looks down upon Bombay theatre. To a great extent, they are justified also. The kind of theatre productions that come to Delhi from Mumbai are commercial and maybe mediocre,” says Palekar.
It was way back in 1971, recalls Palekar, that he first performed performed at the Kamani. “I was a young artist, full of oneself, as all of us are at a young age. My guru Satyadev Dubey was being felicitated by the Sangeet Natak Akademi when we staged Mohan Rakesh’s “Adhe Adhure”. At that time, Dinesh Thakur (who later worked with him in ‘Rajnigandha’) used to perform the part of Ashok in Delhi. There were lots of comparisons and discussions which was very nice.”
However, according to Palekar, the most memorable outing was when he got to perform in front of Indira Gandhi. “I still remember we performed Girish Karnad’s “Hayavadan” at the AIFACS (All India Fine Arts and Crafts Society. On the morning of the performance, we were told that Indira Gandhi would be attending the performance. So, there was a lot of excitement. Just before the performance, we were told that Ms Gandhi would leave after about half-an-hour. When (Satyadev) Dubey ji heard this message, he turned to me and said if she sits up to the interval, he lays a bet that she will not go. The person who brought this message didn’t believe him. As it happened, she didn’t get up till interval. And when her security staff rose to leave during interval, she decided to stay on till the end. I still cherish that moment.” While Palekar played the part of Devdutt, Kapila was played by Amrish Puri and Kali Mata was played by Dina Pathak.
“People keep asking me about my association with Utpal Dutt and Dina Ben. My association with them was through theatre. With Utpal Dutt, I had had such wonderful moments when I watched him rehearse in Kolkata. He used to come and watch my productions in Mumbai. We knew other through our theatre journey. Working with them in ‘Golmaal’ was a culmination of all these things. The chemistry took shape on stage!” he chuckles. He will soon return to Capital as Bookmyshow is bringing “Kusur” to Delhi.
