A narrative of our everyday existence

We were down to 10 from 390. An accomplishment in and of itself, our play had been chosen among pieces by seasoned theater artists like Makarand Deshpande and Piyush Mishra. My spouse and I were unable to push a bite down our throats that day. We were really very afraid. This type of spotlight was so unfamiliar to us.

This was the largest stage our light operator had ever worked on. Subsequently, ‘Raghunath’ received six Mahindra Excellence in Theatre Awards (META), one after the other. Best Light Design went to Gautam Saikia, while I received awards for Best Director, Best Actor, Best Original Script, Best Production, and Best Stage Design.

In the play, Raghunath’s daughter perishes while attempting to cross a flooded river in order to go to school. He is always plagued by her recollections. In his dream, there is a community where the absence of a bridge prevents child deaths. Realizing this, he fabricates a story about having discovered an old statue of a deity in the pond behind his house in the hopes that it will draw attention from the media and the government, who will then build a temple there.

This drama originated at a theater workshop. I had instructed the participants to choose a story by looking through the newspapers. One of them concerned a girl who was swept away during a flood. In Assam, floods are an unpleasant reality. Governments make an effort to assist, but at the local level, political influence consumes all funds.

I first experimented with theater in class IV. I was pulled to acting as soon as I watched my uncle perform on stage. Thanks to Prabin Saikia, Biplab Jyoti Bhuyan, and Nirumoni Bhuyan, I quickly had a break in the theater. However, all came to a stop when my father passed away suddenly in 2004, when I was in senior secondary school. Before my mother became an ASHA worker earning Rs 1,000 per month, she had to work in people’s houses while I taught tuition. She also worked at restaurants.

Many years later, I was requested to appear in a play by renowned artist Jyoti Prasad Bhuyan, who was aware of my passion for theater. I took part in the one-act play competition all over Assam and won between Rs. 10,000 and Rs. 15,000 in cash. I was back on the circuit and getting invitations from a number of individuals, including renowned actor-director Rajen Phukan.

Crucially, theater was also making money. At this point, I was advised to enroll in the theater school by my senior colleague Manuj Saikia, who had graduated from the National School of theater in Delhi. I was unable to leave my mother and sister behind and enroll in a year-long course at its Sikkim campus instead of going to Delhi. That brought about a lot of changes. Many wanted to collaborate with me. I was enrolled in workshops for theater.

The lockdown that followed was yet another testing period. I spent eighteen months working as a delivery guy. This time, I recovered rapidly.

The idea for “Raghunath” emerged in August 2022. Even though I knew this was a different narrative, I couldn’t afford to put on a performance. I posted a request for funding our production on Facebook. A guy gave Rs 4,000 and another Rs 10,000. We were able to get Rs 40,000 really quickly. The scenario was improvised, the bamboo set was constructed, and the actors were contacted. We walked from house to house in my hometown of Nagaon, selling tickets. The performance was a hit.

It’s interesting to note that the play had no script until we made the decision to submit it to META. After seeing it with a buddy who is a filmmaker, Khanjan Kishorenath, created the subtitles and translated the screenplay into English.

I knew I wanted to work in theater, even in the face of all the obstacles I had to overcome. I am wealthier now as a result of my time at META. I’ve come to realize that all theater is the same; there are only huge tales and tiny ones. It is distinct because of the culture it comes from. We narrated a narrative of our lived experience with “Raghunath.”