Moving day

Since it had been arranged that we would be performing in two different campuses, today was the day that everything had to be moved across town, from Gomti Nagar to Rajipuram.  The set itself was quite a challenge; with the big semi-circular backdrop, the forestage and its green carpet covering it, and, of course, the tree – but that was the least of our problems.  As we packed up on Tuesday, it was already being dismantled, and we later learned that it was immediately reassembled that evening in Rajipuram.

Checking first that Mohit would be joining me, I made my way to Rajipuram to check that the lighting would be up and ready, at about 3.  Nisha ma’am, the principal of the campus, joined me for a chat about the procedures I wanted to establish for the performance that evening.  She listened carefully to what I had in mind, and all seemed well.  Less so, however, with the lighting.  The hire company employees had been there since the morning, and were struggling.  Not so much with erecting their own lights, but very much so with the task of co-ordinating their board with the venue’s admittedly impressive display of up to the minute modern array of lights.  They had never been used for this purpose.  They could swivel, change colour, effectively dance, but finding out which was which was an almost impossible task.  They had only ever been used to accompany dance, or to provide a general wash when used in support of a concert, but operating them manually seemed virtually impossible.  And there was virtually nothing Mohit and I could do to help.  So we sat and waited. And chatted, obviously, abut all sorts of things – comedy, movies, comedy movies, Dev Patel, CMS…

Meanwhile, time moved on, while the lighting guy failed to make any progress.  Not, I  think, that he was exactly approaching things in a very methodical way.  His task was to identify each light one by one; instead he seemed to be using all the sliders at once.  Not the most forensic of approaches.

And until he had prepared the board to be used, Mohit and I were effectively wasting our time.  Eventually, we gave up for the evening, leaving the guys still struggling.  I was very keen to buy a Nehru jacket for the performance tomorrow night, and I required his assistance.  Himanshu drove us to Hazratganj, a major shopping street, to the Gandhi store, where they sell homespun and other hand-crafted goods.  I told the man there that if he could sell me a jacket so that I could walk out wearing it in ten minutes, then we would have a deal.  And, with Mohit’s help, he did; a very nice pale pink number.

But that’s when the fun and games began.  As we emerged onto the street, I realised I did not have my phone with me.  Mohit ran back inside the store; no luck.  Obviously, I must have left it in the car, the trouble now being I had no way of summoning Himanshu, and as one is not allowed to linger on Hazratganj, he had driven away.  Mohit was sure he must be in the car park at the rear of the building, but he wasn’t, nor was he to be seen on the street.  Something of a dilemma; Mohit had a phone but not Himanshu’s number, and obviously I had no relevant numbers in my head – one doesn’t nowadays.

The next ploy was to call Saba, who called Head Office, got the number from them, then transmitted it to Mohit, who called H, who turned up.  All was now well, or so I thought.

Upon returning to the apartment, I was just leaving the car, when I realised I did not have my phone.  Again.  So I got back in, and searched for it.  Back in my bag, where it had been the first time.  Got out of the car, said goodbye to H, who was just about to drive off, when I realised I didn’t have my glasses, as I had taken them off to look for my phone  Banged on the car, found them on the floor.  By now, we were both crying with laughter.  Honestly, they shouldn’t let me out on my own.