Writer : P.L. Deshpande Direction : Rajesh Deshpande Cast : Aastad Kale, Swanandi Tikekar, Abhijeet Chavan, Shruja Prabhudesai, Vidyadhar Joshi, Amol Bawdekar and others
SUNDAR MEE HONAAR Review
SUNDAR MEE HONAR is a period piece written in 1958 by famed Marathi writer P. L. Deshpande about a dysfunctional royal family newly without a kingdom in post-independence India. The play, set in 1952, is adapted from Rudolf Besier's THE BARRETTS OF WIMPOLE STREET. We are quickly introduced to the ensemble cast - the old Maharaj of the Nandanwadi sansthan and now a man in possession only of his crumbling estate; his four children: oldest daughter Hemlata or "Tai Raje", sons Pratap and Rajendra and youngest daughter "Baby Raje"; the children's cousin Menaka, her husband Suresh, the family doctor, and young and upcoming poet Sanjay.
The play, directed by Rajesh Deshpande in its current adaptation, has made a comeback to stage this month after about 30 years. At a duration of two and a half hours and with two intervals, it is an overlong play by today's standards. But Pu La writes in captivating fashion. The writing is 67 years old. However, the point the play makes is bolder and more relevant than commercial Marathi theatre today.
The erstwhile Maharaj, power-hungry and unable to come to terms with losing his kingdom is a controlling and oppressive father. Oldest daughter Hemlata is his favourite child; he seems to love her more than his other children. He has, in fact, become so possessive and controlling of Hemlata that after she loses the ability to walk due to an unspecified disease, he tries to keep her isolated in her chamber like a caged bird. But Hemlata, played with a quiet strength by Shruja Prabhudesai, like the caged bird in Maya Angelou's famous poem, sings. Hemlata describes everyday things so magnificently, people listen in awe; when she quotes how a poet talks of death, those around her grieve with her.
Swanandi Tikekar plays the youngest sister, who everyone fondly calls Baby Raje. Tikekar's twinkling, rebellious, bold presence creates a beautiful foil to the quieter Hemlata. She sings, dances and loves to her heart's content without fear. The two sisters remind me of lines from Maya Angelou's famous poem:
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind_and dares to claim the sky.
_The caged bird sings with a fearful trill_and his tune is heard on the distant hill, for the caged bird sings of freedom.
Baby, the free bird, Hemlata, the caged bird: both fighting oppression in their own way. Other characters, too, have their moments in the sun - specifically Astad Kale's monologues as Sanjay and the beautiful classical singing by Amol Bawdekar's Suresh. But the real takeaway from this piece is the agency the playwright bestows on its two sparkling heroines: the agency to create space for themselves in a world dominated by men, to call men out on their blatant chauvinism, to make their own choices in life, to free themselves from the shackles of toxic family without adverse consequences. Watch the play for these shining moments.
*Neha Shende is an avid theatre-goer and enjoys watching old Bollywood movies in her free time.
