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Nothing like a ‘normal’ life

“Ilhaam” tries to prove that normalcy is merely mediocrity.



MOVING A scene from Manav Kaul’s “Ilhaam”.

Ilhaam”, directed by Manav Kaul, is a play that exposes the tragedy of being ‘normal’ and the greater tragedy of being different. Staged recently at the India Habitat Centre, as part of the Matrix Old World Theatre Festival, it created an impact with a moving script, good acting and evocative lighting. The set is simple. The backdrop of lines of the palm seems to show that here is a man fighting against what fate has set out for him.

Set around the character of Bhagwan, it is the story of a single man’s tryst with “enlightenment”. At first he only forgets his own birthday. But soon starts to dwell in his own parallel reality. Barren gardens are transformed into beautiful landscapes. He imagines the laughter and antics of children where there are none. This world is created on stage, only through Bhagwan’s imaginings. Saurabh Nayyar’s convincing histrionics make these delusions exist as a separate world for the audience.

But this world alienates him from his family. He first loses his job. His “madness” is created poignantly. His wife becomes tired. His daughter is afraid. His colleagues mock him. His friend, Shuklaji, feels that his behaviour is unbecoming of a family man with a job. But Bhagwan’s rationale is simple. He feels we grow old the moment we lose our illusion.

His isolation from his family is brought out powerfully with the use of an unintelligible language. His family speaks to him in a garbled tongue. He pleads with them saying that he is not mad. But the only person who he understands and who understands him is a mute beggar. He hears the beggar’s song, just as he recognises the song of the bird. It is through “Chacha”, who only he can see, that he learns, “Satya hi maya hai. Aur maya hi satya hai.”
Touching moment

Even though he realises that in his childlike state the whole world is within him, he decides to abandon it for the sake of his family. In a touching moment, Bhagwan says, “Mai theek hun. Matlab mai samanya hun.” That is the tragedy of our world. One’s life has to be lived like salt in a dish, neither more nor less. In this life of mediocrity he regains his family but is unable to understand the message of the birds.

The lighting was especially suggestive.

The use of lights from the wings made silhouettes of the actors. Single aerial lights put actors in the spot, literally and metaphorically.