The Making of Mausams: A Weekend Rehearsal

Its 9.30am on a Saturday morning. An unusual scene is unfolding in Shilpa’s living room. 6 or 7 young adults have willingly dredged themselves out of bed, awaking at the crack of dawn at 7.45 am, to catch a quick cab, or a not so quick train ride, to Bishan Loft. Family duties and weekend indulgences are exchanged voluntarily for pulpy orange juice served so hospitably by Shivanu. It is all for the sake of Art. There is a moderate amount of chatter but in their heart of hearts, everyone’s just asking one question.

Where the hell is Vineet Kumar?

‘Seriously, I’m gonna slap this guy, once this whole shoot is done,’ our director quietly fumes, ‘for all the pain he’s caused me, over the years.’

At 9.45, a telephone call confirms that the man in question is indeed, on his way over and in fact, he has been approaching Bishan Loft for the longest time. However, he complains that it was the insipid cab driver who was just lolloping around the area, unable to zero in on the front lobby for some strange reason.

About 20 minutes later, Vineet bursts through and blusters a more detailed version of the same explanation involving the cabbie, who had graduated from being merely an idiot, to entirely evil and vindictive. The whole drama is, however, original enough to melt away any resentment the rest of the cast might have felt, drumming their fingers for an interminably long hour waiting Vineet, alias Suresh to show up.

‘Isse koi gussa bhi nahi ho sakta,’ Uthra complains as Vineet beams like a happy little boy.

All at once, everyone’s occupied themselves with frantically mugging up their lines.

Shweta carries her script around and chants the lines over and over, as if studying for a Sanksrit exam. Uthra seems to absorb her lines straight off the page by staring at it. Shivanu potters around looking at everything with interest. Though Poorna is confident enough, she seems to be meditating on her lines. Naren is obviously the good kid who has studied his pages many times over the past few weeks, so he just watches everyone else, possibly practicing the dreamboat look his role demands with considerable success.

Shilpa meanwhile, sits calmly on a table facing the pandemonium, legs crossed and back straight. Much like the Buddha himself, she delivers little jewels of wisdom, twisting the screws of the character over the actors a little tighter with each comment. Once again, Vineet demands some attention, although his problem is rather contrary.

‘Why are you acting? You’re supposed to just be yourself for this role. What happens to your voice when you’re in character? Stop being weird Vineet. Stop trying to act!’

When it’s time to rehearse, an interesting transformation occurs. At first, everyone’s a little stiff and self conscious. People forget what to do with their hands. Confused accents waltz in and out. Then gradually after a few tries, the right expression settles in and diction gets more natural.. Everyone gets it perfect for about 80% of the time, but the remaining 20% is precious idiocy.

One person, who needs no direction whatsoever ever, is the brilliant Navneet, who in all appearances is slouched like a flaccid leek over the couch, neck down, conversing with his chest hair. But when it is his turn to speak, the character arrives with all the ease and confidence of a master.

Okay, I’ve seen enough of this fun morning to know that if rehearsals are this eventful, then the actual shoot will prove to be a real phenomenon.