Sunday, 2 June 2013

After Lights Out

The sound of applause fills the hall. The crowd cheers in admiration of the performance, revering at the skill with which their hearts had been stirred, wondering about the world they had momentarily been transported to, reflecting on the twists and turns and rejoicing at the happy end. The cast assembles on the stage in a straight line and with a united jerk bends low in a graceful bow. The curtain slowly falls down upon their smiling faces. The people, pleased by the evening well spent, file out of the hall and within 15 minutes the place which had been roaring with sound for the past 90 minutes, becomes dead silent. The last sound that is heard here is that of the clicking off of the stage lights.

Backstage, the usual hustle-bustle can be observed. The two producers exchange delighted grins, satisfied with another full house’s collection. It has been a good start so far and if the sales continue at this rate this could turn out to be their highest selling show in a long time. They toast to celebrate.  One celebrates at the prospect of repaying the loan which he had taken for an unsuccessful endeavor.  The other celebrates the new luxurious watch that will earn him jealous looks tomorrow. Merrily, they walk to the parking lot.

Back in the green room, the cheerful spirit seeps in. However, the reason for the spark in the eyes of the male lead extends beyond tonight’s show which, by the way, was one of his best. Tonight, he was going to have dinner with his fiancĂ©. Yes! She had finally said “yes” earlier that evening. No wonder his emotions came out so real on the stage. All he had to do was picture that moment in his eyes.

The female lead, on the other end of the room, sits in front of the mirror and gently wipes out the makeup from her face, conscious of its beauty and the effect it had on people around her. A few feet away stands the girl’s “mother” from the play. In the mirror she sees her past reflected. She wonders whether to laugh at life’s play or weep at its tricks. She settles, defeated, for wishing for a better future for the girl than what her own past had been. She hopes that the youthful fire that radiates from her skin does not get extinguished by the hands of those in this cold world who seek to sell her beloved treasure at the price that she alone bears, till a day comes when she is forced to question the true worth of it all.

The “loyal sidekick” rests on the couch. His eyes closed, head bent back to the wall, a passerby would think he is sleeping after the day’s work. The truth is, the man sits in anticipation. He awaits a call from the producers of the movie for which he had auditioned last week. This could be his big break. In his heart he has always known that his true destiny lies on the big screen. His left leg shakes in impatient nervousness.
The rest of the supporting cast, true to their roles, scurry in the background. Their presence, here too, significant only to the bringing out of the scene. Well at least, they get to have a presence. Where would they be without this? It is hard out there for an artist. 

Weary of the routine the crew rushes with its daily work. They are eager to finally go back home and get the night’s sleep. For them, it is always the same schedule. The costumes change, the venues change, the actors come and go, the shows sell or flop. For them, it is always the same. All this simply boils down to their salary cheque at the end of the month. They were not the profit earning producers. Theirs was not an art for display to the world. Whatever dreams their eyes might have once held had shimmered their way out to the light bulbs above the stage. 


Just like the audience, these people disperse in a while and return to their reality. After the lights out, not a living soul is to be seen in this magnificent hall. Not a sound disturbs whatever ghosts of art-lovers that may be occupying the rows of seats. Darkness creeps in every corner. But even that hides nothing more than what the lights reveal. 

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful. I love how nuanced this is - it's something I would like to write. Well-written. :)

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