The Show Must Go On!

Let me tell you my personal story this time.

My grandparents saw them.
My parents saw them.
And I always wondered what it would feel like to watch one.

Growing up, I had heard stories about Natakalu.

The stage, the artists, the costumes, the powerful dialogues, and the magic that happened when the curtain went up.

For my grandparents and my parents, these weren’t things they read about or watched on a screen. They had actually sat in the audience and experienced them live.

They had watched artists perform right in front of them, seen the sets change, the characters appear, and the story unfold without a pause button, an edit, or a second take.

Somewhere along the way, watching Natakam became one of those things on my bucket list.

And recently, I finally got my chance.

Surabhi Theatre’s Mayabazar.

Before the show, I went backstage.

I watched the artists put on their makeup, get into their costumes, recite their lines, and prepare for their performance. I quietly observed everything, curious and excited to see how all those different pieces would eventually come together.

There was something fascinating about seeing the process before seeing the final performance.

And, for a moment, I wondered if knowing how things worked backstage would take away some of the magic.

Then I went into the audience. The lights changed. The curtain rose. And the play began.

Even though I had already seen some of what was happening behind the scenes, I was still completely amazed when the rain began to fall, the visuals came alive, the arrows flew through the air, and the world of Mayabazar unfolded on stage.

For a moment, I became a 10-year-old kid again. It reminded me of a magician revealing the secret behind a trick before the performance. You think, “Oh, so that’s how it’s done. Maybe it isn’t magic after all.”

And then, right at that moment, the magician pulls out another trick you never saw coming.

That’s exactly how it felt.

I had seen a little of what was happening behind the scenes, but the magic still found a way to surprise me.

There is no VFX. There is no editing. There are no cuts. This isn’t cinema.

But somehow, sitting there, watching the rain fall, the arrows fly, and the world of Mayabazar come alive…

It felt like cinema.

Only this time, the magic was happening right in front of my eyes.

As someone who is interested in visual storytelling, that thought stayed with me.

In cinema, we have so many tools to create an experience. The camera can move, the editor can cut between shots, visual effects can create impossible worlds, and a scene can be shot again and again until everything feels right.

Theatre is different.

Everything is happening now.

In front of you.

Every dialogue. Every movement. Every expression. Every effect. Every moment depends on the artists getting it right. There is no second take.

As the curtain finally closed, I sat there amazed by what I had just witnessed.

And I found myself wondering:

Will the generations after me get to experience this too?

The story ends here.

But the show must go on.

A tale by Vishal Kunjam.
With the help of shutter society Hyd.

IG: vchithra.jpeg