Tuesday, January 30, 2007

confessions (part 2)

With all enthusiasm and excietment I approached the teacher incharge of the play, for my role. I always managed to score well in Hindi and the Hindi teacher was my favourite. She asked me to sit quietly in the corner of the room, where everyone belonging to the hindi play had assembled. I was filled with excietment and started imagining all sorts of things. Maybe I had a very important role to play and thats why she asked me to sit in a corner. Maybe I'd do my part so well that even the chief guest for the day would come and garland me.
I was sitting in the corner for one whole scene and didnt quite understand what was going on.
Finally after one whole rehersal I figured out my role. I was sure in a crucial scene that was the most dramatic part in the play. It was the scene that changed Siddhartha into Buddha. But neither my role was crucial nor did I have any dialogues to speak. My role was to cry for a Dead body. The whole thing came upon me like a ton of bricks. I wanted to disappear somewhere deep under the earth below me. I was so ashamed of myself. My role. How would I tell my parents that I had no dialogues to deliver when two of my best friends had major roles.

With huge tears rolling down my cheeks, I went home, quietly went to my crying hide out and cried for an hour or two. The crying hide out was my bathroom. Whenever I was in this huge state of depression I went there to vent out my feelings to the huge mirror there, and I would feel better. I felt much better because I wasnt assigned the role of the dead body itself.
Finally, I decided that I would not tell my parents anything about the annual day or the play.
I would do my role and run away from the scene before anyone saw me or asked me anything.

The grand day arrived and all my friends who had the roles like that of the princess were getting decked up with so much care no one bothered about this lonely mourner. I was wrapping myself around this old sari of my mother's which I sneaked out from the cupboard. While everyone ws busy rehersing their dialogues I was busy popping the free cakes the management had provided for the participants.

When I was on stage I tried to cover my face with the saree so that none saw me. Finally they introduced all the participants and introduce me as the mourner I wanted to do simply run away.

Today, when I think back I feel stupid rather than embarassed. It is every small role that makes big plays happen. So what if one did not have dialogues? So what if one did not get decked up? Every role was important. I have realised this.
But still the teacher's havent and every mourner feels the same way as I did.