I saw this play a couple of months back...started my blog on it but never got down to finishing it, till now.
It is inspired by a real life incident. In 1994 two Melbourne teenagers in a dangerous rush of teenage rebellion were kicking stones off a freeway overpass. One of the stones smashed the windshield of a passing car and killed the driver.
This play starts with the playful exuberance of the 2 kids aptly referred to as Yahoo and Shy boy. Yahoo, the leader of the two always eggs on his shy friend challenging him to do several tasks, which not always the shy one is confident of doing or wants to do, especially the climbing on the top of ladder. He is shown to be aggressive with a swagger, more like a street tough in the making. The Shy Boy is more of a childish prankster and a reluctant follower who always lets himself to be prodded on by Yahoo. It's he who is guilt-stricken after the crash and confesses to his mother who takes him to the police. A trial follows and the trauma the Shy Boy goes through was very well enacted.
It was a brilliant play which left one thinking for a long time. The best thing about the play was that after it finished the actors had a q&a/comments session with audience.
They asked their first question, would you give the 2 boys a guilty or not guilty and one could feel the dilemma that each one of us felt while answering that question.
There were several other best things about the play...
The sets were minimal, no elaborate props. There are only 2 artists who did a role play. They play the two boys and with a simple change of shirt by one and police cap by the other they change to the 2 detectives investigating the play. And this is done so well. They just walk backwards on the stage itself for a few steps and return as the new avatar.
They conjure everything out of thin air, with their guitars and bodies adding a range of witty sound effects, from the sound of the stones going smashing down on the freeway to the trailing echoes of a sewer.
As adult interrogators, the men are merciless but at the same time the one interrogating the Shy Boy also seems to want to help the boy. In one scene they are shown trying to empathize with the boys, asking the question – what if their own child was involved? They seem unsettled and confused in what they really think and want – guilty or not guilty?
The one question that was on everyone’s mind was what finally happened to the boys? Not surprisingly, they had a hung jury and then a second trial was held. At the end of the trial, all felt that the trauma faced by the children was punishment enough and they were acquitted. However, where the boys are now or what they are doing is not known. The names of the boys were kept hidden from the media and the theater group, in order to respect the privacy of the children. Which is where the media in India can learn a lot – respect what should be digged up and what should not be.
It seems that the wife of the driver who was killed was invited to watch the play. She came but left half way without any comments.
As is very rightly said - the play has no easy answers but it dares to ask some big questions.
Showing posts with label Children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Children. Show all posts
15 March 2010
28 April 2008
Memories, memories, memories...
Last couple of weeks have been reminiscing a lot about my childhood…guess its was getting in touch with long lost childhood friends (thanks to Orkut, Batchmates) that triggered it off.
17 B/D…our house in Jammu…if I close my eyes I can visualise each nook, tile, carpet design of that house…the room I shared with my siblings…the connecting walk-in cupboard leading to my parents room…the dining table where I fought with my sis and bro for that leg piece of the chicken…
Has a study ever been conducted as to how come children don’t feel hot in the scorching sun, as long as they are out playing? I would be out in the hot afternoon sun sitting near the water tank and playing in the water while the maid washed the clothes…and mom begging me to come inside and sleep in the AC…but no …I just wanted to play in the sun…
Ahhhhhh…. the birthday parties…we were filthy rich then so we had lavish birthday parties…the whole town was invited I guess… That whole afternoon the servants would be carrying chairs from the nearby Little Flower Nursery School and then mom would organise the chaat waala, tikki waala, the candy floss man and a couple of more reri(carts) walas who would set up their carts in the long driveway …we had a driveway for at least 5 cars I think….
And the birthday cakes…always elaborate ones…airplanes, trains with 5 bogies, a castle with the works (a princess etc)…
And of course …how can I forget those sunny winter afternoons when we would eat our lunch in the huge garden that we had … gobbling down plates of red carrots and radishes with loads of red chilli powder and lemon…
Then we decided to get dogs…not one, not two but three at the same time…a Labrador (Maggi), a cross between a Spitz and a Sheepdog (Sausage) and a Bakhrwal – its found only in the hills in Kashmir and has wolf like looks and habits (Tommy). I don’t know what made me decide that Sausage was some kind of a performing trick dog…so I would place him on this high windowsill and prod him and goad him to jump off…poor baby….
One wrong business decision and we had to sell off that house. A couple of years later I met a girl in one of the tuitions classes who I became quite pally with …but when I came to know that her family had bought our house, I just didn’t want to even know her. I know…how juvenile of me…but I guess it just hurt so much back then…
That house had and will have a special place in my heart. I used to be in hostel when we lived in that house and I spent only holidays there but still its soo vivid in my memories… whereas the houses that we moved into after that and where I lived for 2-3 years I can’t seem to remember…
Memories, memories, memories...
17 B/D…our house in Jammu…if I close my eyes I can visualise each nook, tile, carpet design of that house…the room I shared with my siblings…the connecting walk-in cupboard leading to my parents room…the dining table where I fought with my sis and bro for that leg piece of the chicken…
Has a study ever been conducted as to how come children don’t feel hot in the scorching sun, as long as they are out playing? I would be out in the hot afternoon sun sitting near the water tank and playing in the water while the maid washed the clothes…and mom begging me to come inside and sleep in the AC…but no …I just wanted to play in the sun…
Ahhhhhh…. the birthday parties…we were filthy rich then so we had lavish birthday parties…the whole town was invited I guess… That whole afternoon the servants would be carrying chairs from the nearby Little Flower Nursery School and then mom would organise the chaat waala, tikki waala, the candy floss man and a couple of more reri(carts) walas who would set up their carts in the long driveway …we had a driveway for at least 5 cars I think….
And the birthday cakes…always elaborate ones…airplanes, trains with 5 bogies, a castle with the works (a princess etc)…
And of course …how can I forget those sunny winter afternoons when we would eat our lunch in the huge garden that we had … gobbling down plates of red carrots and radishes with loads of red chilli powder and lemon…
Then we decided to get dogs…not one, not two but three at the same time…a Labrador (Maggi), a cross between a Spitz and a Sheepdog (Sausage) and a Bakhrwal – its found only in the hills in Kashmir and has wolf like looks and habits (Tommy). I don’t know what made me decide that Sausage was some kind of a performing trick dog…so I would place him on this high windowsill and prod him and goad him to jump off…poor baby….
One wrong business decision and we had to sell off that house. A couple of years later I met a girl in one of the tuitions classes who I became quite pally with …but when I came to know that her family had bought our house, I just didn’t want to even know her. I know…how juvenile of me…but I guess it just hurt so much back then…
That house had and will have a special place in my heart. I used to be in hostel when we lived in that house and I spent only holidays there but still its soo vivid in my memories… whereas the houses that we moved into after that and where I lived for 2-3 years I can’t seem to remember…
Memories, memories, memories...
03 October 2007
Varenya and Mobiles...
All of six months and capable of doing magic...that is Varenya for you...
About 2 months back, I was desperately trying to call her mom...no response...finally after several days I get a call from mom...it seems Varenya did magic on her mobile...it stopped working...
At 6 months she has such a fixation for mobiles...if u call her mom...she wants to have the phone next to her ear...the moment mom removes the handset to talk...wailing starts from the back...which stops the moment she finds the mobile next to her ear....
We have often read about mobile obsessions, ringtone obsessions, text obsessions...have any of these studies considered infants fixation for mobiles?
18 August 2007
Children make you want to start life over.
Every time I spend my time with children…I marvel at their innocence… they never seem to hold anything against you …
Bhargava (aged 3…I think) …will insist that I stay over at his place or spend some more time with him every time I visit their place …last time he even hid my purse so that I couldn’t go home… friends will say… u better just sneak off quietly but that is something I cannot do…so I make some excuse to go home… and a promise that I will visit again the next day…am ashamed to say it’s a promise which I have never kept…
But still the next time I visit, the excitement to see me is the same… and I wish I could always be a kid…
Reminds me of the theatrical adaptation of Peter Pan I saw as a kid in Delhi…with a very nice song…I won't grow up ..part of the lyrics reproduced below…
I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up
Not me,
Not I,
Not me!
So there!
Never gonna be a man,
I won't!
Like to see somebody try
And make me.
Anyone who wants to try
And make me turn into a man,
Catch me if you can.
I won't grow up.
Not a penny will I pinch.
I will never grow a mustache,
Or a fraction of an inch.
'Cause growing up is awfuller
Than all the awful things that ever were.
I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up,
No sir,
Not I,
Not me,
So there!
~Muhammad Ali…
Every time I spend my time with children…I marvel at their innocence… they never seem to hold anything against you …
Bhargava (aged 3…I think) …will insist that I stay over at his place or spend some more time with him every time I visit their place …last time he even hid my purse so that I couldn’t go home… friends will say… u better just sneak off quietly but that is something I cannot do…so I make some excuse to go home… and a promise that I will visit again the next day…am ashamed to say it’s a promise which I have never kept…
But still the next time I visit, the excitement to see me is the same… and I wish I could always be a kid…
Reminds me of the theatrical adaptation of Peter Pan I saw as a kid in Delhi…with a very nice song…I won't grow up ..part of the lyrics reproduced below…
I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up
Not me,
Not I,
Not me!
So there!
Never gonna be a man,
I won't!
Like to see somebody try
And make me.
Anyone who wants to try
And make me turn into a man,
Catch me if you can.
I won't grow up.
Not a penny will I pinch.
I will never grow a mustache,
Or a fraction of an inch.
'Cause growing up is awfuller
Than all the awful things that ever were.
I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up,
No sir,
Not I,
Not me,
So there!
13 August 2007
Chacha Nehru vs. Superman
India’s 60th Independence Day is just around the corner. Celebrations galore…especially in schools across the country… my friends sons school being no exception
For the kiddies they are having a fancy dress competition... Samarth aged 4 and 1/2 came home really excited…
The conversation between mom and son after he has told her about the competition…
Mom: you can dress up as Gandhi ji or Chacha Nehru…
Samarth: Gandhi ji was “taklu” (bald!!!), I don’t want to be Gandhi ji.
Mom: OK, you can dress up as Chacha Nehru…
Samarth: Who is this Chacha Nehru? I don’t want to be Chacha, I want to become Superman.
Looks like Jawaharlal Nehru needs some publicity!!!
Mom: Chacha Nehru was a very great man…(does not let her complete)
Samarth: I don’t want to be Chacha…he must be an old man. I want to be Superman
Mom: He wasn’t an old man. He loved children and they would affectionately call him as Chacha Nehru. He used to give sweets and chocolates to the children.
She Googled and showed him some snaps of Chacha Nehru…
Samarth: So what, Santa Claus also gives sweets and chocolates to the children.
Mom: He was a great man. His birthday is celebrated as Children's Day.
Samarth: So what, its only a holiday.
He needs an Image makeover too!!!
I guess for the younger lot some schools declare Children’s day a holiday and only the older students celebrate the day in school :-(
Mom is quite helpless now. She calls her friends including me to help her convince him to dress up as Chacha Nehru. We think of some arguments but it’s difficult to explain to a 4yr old the significance of Independence and that he was the architect of the nation. Still we thought we should try…
Mom: You know the British ruled India and he helped India get independence from the British
Samarth: What do you mean by that?
Finally he seems to be coming around…at least he started showing some interest…
Mom: well… everyone had to listen to British people and had to work for them. We even had to pay lot of money to them. If you don’t listen to them, you would get beaten up…
Samarth: So they were bad people. Superman can kill them all.
Oops…looks like its not going to be sooooo easy after all…
Mom: they were not bad people…but…Chacha Nehru looked after all the people in India.
Samarth: So what, Superman looks after the whole of India and America…
Mom: It’s because of him that we have offices, schools in India. Papa goes to office and makes money and buys you so many things.
Not totally convinced...but finally he agreed.
That was last week. He went to school and found many children came dressed as Bhagat Singh, Subhash Chandra Bose so he was quite happy that he dressed up as Chacha Nehru. This week they have another party in school and he wants to go as Chacha Nehru…:-))
All is not lost still!!!
Kudos to Ganga (Samarth’s mother and all the other parents who managed to enlighten their kids and convince them to dress up as our national heros and not as one of the “chaddis over the pants” gang.
For the kiddies they are having a fancy dress competition... Samarth aged 4 and 1/2 came home really excited…
The conversation between mom and son after he has told her about the competition…
Mom: you can dress up as Gandhi ji or Chacha Nehru…
Samarth: Gandhi ji was “taklu” (bald!!!), I don’t want to be Gandhi ji.
Mom: OK, you can dress up as Chacha Nehru…
Samarth: Who is this Chacha Nehru? I don’t want to be Chacha, I want to become Superman.
Looks like Jawaharlal Nehru needs some publicity!!!
Mom: Chacha Nehru was a very great man…(does not let her complete)
Samarth: I don’t want to be Chacha…he must be an old man. I want to be Superman
Mom: He wasn’t an old man. He loved children and they would affectionately call him as Chacha Nehru. He used to give sweets and chocolates to the children.
She Googled and showed him some snaps of Chacha Nehru…
Samarth: So what, Santa Claus also gives sweets and chocolates to the children.
Mom: He was a great man. His birthday is celebrated as Children's Day.
Samarth: So what, its only a holiday.
He needs an Image makeover too!!!
I guess for the younger lot some schools declare Children’s day a holiday and only the older students celebrate the day in school :-(
Mom is quite helpless now. She calls her friends including me to help her convince him to dress up as Chacha Nehru. We think of some arguments but it’s difficult to explain to a 4yr old the significance of Independence and that he was the architect of the nation. Still we thought we should try…
Mom: You know the British ruled India and he helped India get independence from the British
Samarth: What do you mean by that?
Finally he seems to be coming around…at least he started showing some interest…
Mom: well… everyone had to listen to British people and had to work for them. We even had to pay lot of money to them. If you don’t listen to them, you would get beaten up…
Samarth: So they were bad people. Superman can kill them all.
Oops…looks like its not going to be sooooo easy after all…
Mom: they were not bad people…but…Chacha Nehru looked after all the people in India.
Samarth: So what, Superman looks after the whole of India and America…
Mom: It’s because of him that we have offices, schools in India. Papa goes to office and makes money and buys you so many things.
Not totally convinced...but finally he agreed.
That was last week. He went to school and found many children came dressed as Bhagat Singh, Subhash Chandra Bose so he was quite happy that he dressed up as Chacha Nehru. This week they have another party in school and he wants to go as Chacha Nehru…:-))
All is not lost still!!!
Kudos to Ganga (Samarth’s mother and all the other parents who managed to enlighten their kids and convince them to dress up as our national heros and not as one of the “chaddis over the pants” gang.
08 August 2007
Anokhi
Anokhi means Unique… I know this 5 year old girl so aptly called Anokhi…she never ceases to amaze me with her talk, her ideas and most importantly her behavior…I could go on and on narrating her anecdotes…but there is one which has literally made me her fan…
We were supposed to go out for Lunch once and were waiting for her mom to return from work…she wanted to play Carom with me. The Carom board was lying behind the bed so she asked her dad to take it out for us…Dad says...anokhi…mom will be home soon and we will be going out…there is no point in getting the Carom board out…
What kind of a reaction would most of us expect at this time from a 5 year old…a tantrum...maybe some screeching and crying and sulking….But her reaction was mind blowing…she’s like … (in a very encouraging tone) dad…you can do this…you are a genius at getting the Carom board out…dad u r a genius* 5 times….
She left him no choice!!!
We were supposed to go out for Lunch once and were waiting for her mom to return from work…she wanted to play Carom with me. The Carom board was lying behind the bed so she asked her dad to take it out for us…Dad says...anokhi…mom will be home soon and we will be going out…there is no point in getting the Carom board out…
What kind of a reaction would most of us expect at this time from a 5 year old…a tantrum...maybe some screeching and crying and sulking….But her reaction was mind blowing…she’s like … (in a very encouraging tone) dad…you can do this…you are a genius at getting the Carom board out…dad u r a genius* 5 times….
She left him no choice!!!
11 July 2007
Anokhi
Anokhi means Unique… I know this 5 year old girl so aptly called Anokhi…she never ceases to amaze me with her talk, her ideas and most importantly her behavior…I could go on and on narrating her anecdotes…but there is one which has literally made me her fan…
We were supposed to go out for Lunch once and were waiting for her mom to return from work…she wanted to play Carom with me. The Carom board was lying behind the bed so she asked her dad to take it out for us…Dad says...anokhi…mom will be home soon and we will be going out…there is no point in getting the Carom board out…
What kind of a reaction would most of us expect at this time from a 5 year old…a tantrum...maybe some screeching and crying and sulking….But her reaction was mind blowing…she’s like … (in a very encouraging tone) dad…you can do this…you are a genius at getting the Carom board out…dad u r a genius* 5 times….
She left him no choice!!!
We were supposed to go out for Lunch once and were waiting for her mom to return from work…she wanted to play Carom with me. The Carom board was lying behind the bed so she asked her dad to take it out for us…Dad says...anokhi…mom will be home soon and we will be going out…there is no point in getting the Carom board out…
What kind of a reaction would most of us expect at this time from a 5 year old…a tantrum...maybe some screeching and crying and sulking….But her reaction was mind blowing…she’s like … (in a very encouraging tone) dad…you can do this…you are a genius at getting the Carom board out…dad u r a genius* 5 times….
She left him no choice!!!
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