When I first saw him, Ashwath Bhatt was playing Manto on the stage of Stein Auditorium for the camera of a news website. It was a strange situation and Ashwath knew it. Because here was an act that he had prepared for stage but the camera required economy of emotions. With no director around, he was asking the cameraperson to tell him if the performance was loud. It was just a glimpse of his performance but Ashwath wanted it to be in sync with the medium. One doesn’t know whether he got the desired help but it gave me a window into the process of an actor who has mastered different mediums through sheer practice. In films, he could devour anybody through his eyes without uttering a word; on the stage, he is a chameleon as exemplified by his solo act in “Ek Mulaqat Manto Se” where his seamless transformation from the writer to the characters enthralled a packed house. And in hospitals, he turns up as the veritable clown, who is committed to provide relief to cancer patients.
Ashwath Bhatt on the sets of Kesari
Beyond the limelight, the theatre has proved therapeutic for the artist whose family faced exodus from the Kashmir Valley in 1990.
Edited excerpts:
On playing Manto
Manto is the flavour of the world but I was doing Manto even when not many were interested in his works. Manto will be relevant forever because human beings will never learn their lessons. People read Manto’s stories but nobody knows about Manto’s life. Nandita Das’ film has opened a window but one film is not enough and can’t reach everywhere. Recently, I was performing in Jalandhar and people said that the film was released in one theatre with one show. I also played a small part in the film as a tribute to the great writer.
Interestingly, costume designer Sheetal Sharma told me that at one point of time Nandita was considering me for the title role. She showed my photographs to Nandita and she said that five years back I was her Manto!
Like most of us, I got introduced to Manto through his short stories, particularly “Thanda Gosht”. When I read it, I lost my sleep. It was the time when we had just left Kashmir. I felt like it is my story. Later, when I performed it on stage in 1997, my father came to watch it. Even today when he watches any of my plays, he says, it was good but not like the way you performed in “Thanda Gosht”. It is not my performance, it is the stamp of Manto’s writing that is etched on his mind.
In 2002, when it was staged at The Nehru Centre, London, Girish Karnad advised me that Manto cannot be staged without his stories and that I should add “Khol Do”. Over the years, the play has taken different forms according to the stage it was performed on. In comparison to Stein, Odd Bird theatre is a completely different stage. During the Khoj workshop at Khriki extension, it became a site-specific work. The audience used to walk with me. I am adding a lot of text related to Manto’s experience in film industry. Also what happened to him after his son died. I have done an English version of the play as well and I am planning an international tour later this year.
On theatre as therapy
We were displaced from the Valley when I was 14. It takes time to understand the trauma, at that time, a lot of anger was there. Somewhere, at some places, it still emerges. I am fortunate that theatre happened in my life because in theatre you go do an exercise and it becomes a therapy. It gives you an outlet which, unfortunately, a lot of people don’t get. I don’t feel like a victim, nowadays, because I work in conflict zones and know that there is so much going on in the world. I have started working on ‘The Djinns of Eidgah’. It is a totally different perspective as I want to understand the other person’s point of view. That’s what theatre teaches you. However, it hasn’t come in one day. It has been 30 years when we left our home and we didn’t leave for leaving, we just left for 15-20 days, and never went back. Everybody, including our neighbours, thought that it was temporary and that it would end in five-six months. Had it been clear to the Hindus and Muslims, our histories would have been different.
On understanding the other
We didn’t give up on education. We would not eat one meal but I was going to school, a proper school. I get a lot of criticism from my community (for not taking an aggressive stance) but my firm belief is that we should work on ourselves. Don’t live with hatred because it affects you more that anybody else. I go to Kashmir regularly and I run theatre projects there. The bigger picture has changed but our close relations are still the same. We have to focus on saving our language and culture. Hating a Muslim will not save my community. It is very easy to create frictions but it is very difficult to bring people together.
Ashwath Bhatt as a clown
On the art of red nose clowning
In India, we call them jokers but clowning is a proper art form. India needs a lot of clowns, as hospitals can become death holes. It needs to be used for public good as it liberates you from pain for sometime. Many clown practitioners are coming to India. Some people call it a European concept, but my point is if you are sick, your are sick irrespective of which part of the world you are in. I teach red nose clowning in Germany, where it is a thriving art form. Scientific research has found that clowning sessions lead to secretion of feel good hormones. It connects you to your inner child. There is a difference between being childlike and childish. I go to government hospitals to perform before young cancer patients. Their mind is not developed enough to take so much pain. But I have observed that after or during the session, they take food and medicines.
It brings huge relief to parents as well. Sometimes, it works the other way round. When a child patient sees the parent smiling, he feels relaxed. You need training for this craft. You have to save yourself as well. You should remain emotionally detached. It doesn’t mean that you don’t have empathy for the patient. When my mother was suffering from cancer, I could not bring a smile to her face but my friend from Austria could.
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On being the new face of Bollywood villain
I am playing Gul Badshah Khan, the chief of Orakzai tribesmen in Anurag Singh’s Kesari which is based on the Battle of Saragarhi. I am pitted against Akshay Kumar who is playing the leader of Sikh soldiers of the British Army. It is a powerful role for which I had to learn horse riding and Pashto. I had to put on weight but the challenge was to wear fur-laced costumes in the 45-degree heat of Wai (Satara) where a part of the film was shot.
The film industry is not aware of my clowning skills. They find my eyes intense. Vicky Kaushal told me that when I look into the camera, I am highly intimidating. Anurag felt that I get villainous roles because my eyes are intense. I reminded him that I could roll them well. And he is known for his romantic comedies as well! Having said that I am not the first one. In the past, the likes of Amrish Puri, Amjad Khan and Kadar Khan have successfully moved from dark shades to comedy.
On dangers of typecasting
I don’t want to repeat myself unless the part offered is really challenging for me as an actor. I don’t mind playing General Zia-ul-Haq. I don’t carried away by frills easily – like shooting in London for seven days – as I have lived in Europe for 5-7 years. I am doing Manto; I can’t be a hypocrite. So either give me enough money that could balance my creativity or a powerful role.
Problem is audience’s patience level has come down. They get tired of watching the same faces very easily. Certain actors who were getting a lot of roles have suddenly vanished. You really have to reinvent yourself constantly for yourself and for the public. I am fearless. If I don’t get substantial roles in films, I will do theatre. I have trust in stagecraft.
On acting for camera
Cinema is about economy of emotions. You can’t be loud here. And the actor should surrender oneself to the director. During the shoot of Raazi , I had many sleepless nights as it was a deeply layered film. I was not supposed to get any attention in the first half because it would have given away that the character is pedantic and persistent. It gets triggered by Abdul’s death. So director had a vision and I had to trust her.
Between the lines
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On theatre education
Though I was interested in acting from a young age, it was not an easily accepted profession in my surroundings. It was only after I got admission in National School of Drama that I got respect in my community. NSD gave me the opportunity to explore myself as a person. Be it language or diction, I had a lot of latent insecurities, NSD brought them to the surface. I was not from the Hindi belt and when somebody pointed out it is phir and not fir and that it is not gar but ghar, it was for good.
Among the teachers, it was Nibha Joshi who gave us an understanding of aesthetics. She was an institution in herself. I am also indebted to Satyadev Dubey who came to teach us in the third year. I used to lose my voice after 10 days of rehearsals. He figured out that my octave was wrong and taught me a simple exercise. Slowly, I discovered what Bharat Muni that acting is first a skill and only after years of practice that it becomes a craft.
On learning at London Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts
I am the first recipient of prestigious Inlaks foundation scholarship for Theatre/Acting. If NSD gave me the questions, LAMDA provided me the answers. Their approach to work is very professional. I learnt voice modulation, understood Shakespeare – details like feminine endings and iambic pentameter. Gradually, I found acting is not about manipulation. It’s like breathing. It is about managing your breathe, the pranashakti. Like a musician and dancer, it requires years of practice but actors are usually lazy! It took me a long time to understand but I got a sense of it when I was playing Shylock in “Merchant of Venice”. I took motivation from his Jew background and related it to my minority status in Kashmir Valley.
On working with Deepa Mehta
She is making a web series Leila. It is set in a dystopian future and is a cautionary tale that says that we should mend our ways as soon as possible.
