Not that one would have been able to tell at first, since the heavens opened in the most extreme manner on our drive into Aliganj, the school where I was delivering the second of three drama workshops. It was a quite extraordinary spectacle; I’m not sure I’ve ever seen rain like it. But from our point of view, the effect was almost entirely beneficial, as it drove many vehicles off the roads (though there was nearly an accident when we had to slow to a crawl to pass a mass of motor-cycles sheltering from the rain beneath a bridge over the highway.
The roads were instantly awash, which forced even those brave or foolhardy enough to keep going to creep along at a snail’s pace. Except for Arvind, who overtook everything and drove blithely on at faster than his normal speed, taking advantage of the lack of the normal gridlocked chaos. But the rain continued to teem, and it looked as though even getting the short distance from the car to the front door would mean a soaking. But Arvind drove round to the back of the school, and then virtually right up to one of the doors, sheltered by a canopy.
After which there was quite a wait; apparently there was an assembly first, plus the fact that the rain made plenty of staff and students late. Which led to a delayed start to the lesson (not the worst thing in the world, considering the age of the children.) And none of the above sounds like the perfect day of the title. But from then on…
The lesson with the children was excellent. Numbers were down from the day before – weather-related – but the focus and concentration were correspondingly stronger. It was largely my usual introduction to mime, but mixed in with this was a recap from the day before, when we had been using tableau, and I photographed the reconstructions of two war scenes: Ukraine and Gaza. They were both excellent, the boys including a human shield, while the girls recreation of a scene from Gaza was harrowing.
Back home, then after a nap over to my usual destination, Gomti Nagar 2. En route a real slice of luck; I had already spotted a guy selling umbrellas, mostly brightly coloured, at the side of the road. Included in his stock were camouflage versions, and, with the help of Arvind to ensure I got a good deal, I bought two: Tortoise’s shell, and his shell after he has fallen from a great height. Tick.
My rehearsal started with the news that Sheep had to leave early, because of a family commitment. Fine, as she had just the one scene to rehearse, with Wolf. Only Wolf did not appear. For the second rehearsal running. Hm. Laksh (Goat) read in for Wolf, for just a quick reading, so that she had not entirely wasted her time. And then she left.
Which left just four actors: Pig (Laksh), Donkey (Yashi), Doctor (Sharanya V), and Farmer (TG), the latter two for their first rehearsal. Fox and Wolf (unreliable animals both) were both missing, but actually that made things better, not worse. And we had the most amazing time. There was just the one scene with them all, and we had time to rehearse that in detail: exploring the text, trying out ideas, solving problems. We were part-way through the scene when we (I) discovered Donkey was on stage all along, down the well. And that made a big difference.
You may be thinking now that I am not much of a director if I don’t know something very important about a scene (all the more so since I’d written the blasted thing.) And you would of course be right. I have various defences – the other actors being there would have meant I had less time to devote to this single scene; my own lack of preparation because I have been running around delivering drama workshops to various places. But none of them quite excuse the fact that I ought to know what happens in a scene before we start to work on it.
So we had a couple of problems to solve, and though it was not completely done – we needed extra men to achieve the lifting of Donkey out of the well – we had time to think about it. And all four characters were terrific. I have fallen in (platonic) love with Donkey, but the scene also included Goat, for whom I have a very soft spot. But Doctor and Farmer were also very good… and when I discovered that TG was thirteen…
Immediately after the rehearsal, I had a production meeting with Saba and Medha, my two line managers. It was, likewise, both productive and enjoyable (and so much better than writing long WhatsApp messages, which have previously been my prime means of communication.) I had five items on my agenda: could I have a lighting designer (Mohit, one of the people from the university Drama club, another teacher at CMS); could we tell people not to use mobile phones, especially to video the production (we would do that ourselves, and distribute it via YouTube); could we do without coffee tables, sofas ln the front row, food during the performance; were there narrower chairs to use, to maximise the numbers; and could we have a programme for the show? Yes to all five. And the programme would not be just a list of names: they showed me a mock-up of what they had in mind – a full-colour souvenir publication, with photos, bios… More like what the National Theatre sell for £10 or so.
Extraordinary.
We rounded off the day with dinner at Saracas, the boutique hotel right next door to our apartment block. As recommended by Medha, we had the fish, with apricot kofta, spinach with mushrooms, steamed rice… And a fabulous Rajasthani dessert.
Just a perfect day.
