exit, pursued by bear.
November 21, 2010 § 9 Comments
i watched a play on friday. i can safely say i did not understand it at all. i was blinking all through the conclusion but to everyone else, all was apparently Light. this sort of thing gives you faith that just because something is incomprehensible to you does not mean its existence is impossible.
very comforting, i think i am one step closer to finding religion.
either that, or nothing’s changed since vanity fair. :)
the play was at museum theatre, which is a lovely old building with a series of beautiful windows near the ceiling. there are white curtains over the windows, and the place is infested with bats. so in moments that the ancient AC vent chooses to splutter into life, there is a gentle shower of dust and confused bats on the tolerant audience below.
in the parking lot, there is a spreading almond tree with beautiful roots like a pianist’s fingers reaching into the street outside and dislodging stones from the footpath with a delightful sort of nonchalance. inside the gate, there is the theatre itself, a sprinkling of somnolent dogs and the occasional indifferent goat.
all is silent.
less than fifty feet away, there are traffic lights and commuters are yelling savugraaki how you got license also i dont know and autodrivers are shouting big car yuvaar having so anything you are saying? and eye-hurting neon shopfronts are shouting all manner of unimportant things , so it’s nice to know that hidden right there, if only you chose to look, there is a kindly stone mausoleum where you may escape to meditate amongst batdroppings and ghosts of dramas past.
so at museum theatre, i was surrounded by Beautiful People, the sort of crowd that makes you want to smooth your hair and smell your pits. there was a general atmosphere of blockprinted cotton and socialism; all kisses were airy, all laughter was tinkly. i felt like i was walking through one cloud of lovely perfume after another, and at the end of every cloud was yet another Beautiful Person accessorising with Amrapali earrings and Fabindia opinions.
all very heady for someone whose work ethic and wardrobe may both be adequately summed up as Halfhearted.
i did end up watching another play there after the first one. it was hilarious, and i was sort of blown away by the articulation and the confidence in all those people on stage, all roughly my age. a little investigation unearthed useful information – school for the performing arts = free tickets = open entry.
this is beginning to sound like my sort of shindig, what?
of course, this creates the possibility of regular interaction with the intellectually emancipated amongst men, which may lead to a broadening of my own intellectual horizons.
perhaps even – nay, could it be? – an end to the fart jokes.
well, what do you know, gentlemen? this eliza may yet live her pygmalion. ;-)