Pride and Joy - Tiatr Competition at Kala Academy

Pride and Joy
by Marc De Souza

THE recent tiatr competition held at the Kala Academy brought back nostalgic memories of my salad-days, when village tiatrs, particularly for a chapel feast was a ‘must’, holding the whole village and even surrounding villages in suspense. The occasion was a source of pride and joy. Those were the days of His Master’s Voice gramophone reigning supreme - before tough technology came out swinging. Now you simply turn on your computer and turn on a world of possibilities!

As a boarder in St Stanislaus, big boys from the village would come to Bandra with scripts of concerts and I was usually given a female role. May holidays would start and back to the roots, nightly rehearsals were held; counting those days among the happiest in my life. Then on the big day, in conjunction with the feast, football game, boy’s cross litany, the tiatr would start at around 9 p.m.

The stage set outdoor at a convenient place, with bamboo and wooden planks, secured with ropes. Palm fonds and other greenery, crape paper used for decoration. The curtains made out of coloured bedsheets, and two petromax lamps to light the stage. Benches and chairs were from the neighbours around.You had to have a loud voice. Villagers do have a loud and clear voice. Prompting was done, at times louder than the voice of the actor. It was all fun. Everybody would participate in some way, that gave added colour and sparkle. Elders were given front seats and you could see them dozing to glory.

Usually, a beggar would sing a song, with laughter and tears and ask for alms. The people gave generously, filling his kotti and his worn-out straw hat. It would suffice to pay for the band, banjo, violin, drums. There were no other expenses involved. It was a free show. The villagers would talk and talk about it for days, abuzz with stories. It was the time when Goa was seen through its village activities, that provided the community with a focus for living.The last tiatr I acted in and when I was in my mid-teens. I did a crackling solo ‘Mogan Boulinao’. I was bit jittery, sort of having a stage fright. I started the song alright but mid-way I messed it up. To me it was a disaster, but the audience clapped and clapped, for a little boy, and the hillside echoed! Later I came for a duet, dressed as a girl, even with a ruffled petticoat.

At a romantic moment the guy came to embrace me, I was embarrassed and laughed. He laughed too and the whole village laughed. In those glorious days people knew to laugh, now one has to go to the laughter session to laugh!

(The Navhind Times/12-02-2005)