This is not a post

It started out as one. It started out as a really long post to make up for a prolonged absence. It started with a bang really. A very nice opening sentence. But then, I couldn't finish that and couldn't really find anything else to say.

It's 6.50 pm now and I have an economics class at 7 pm. So again, as usual I have no time. I'm finding recently that I simply don't have the time for things that are important. All these niggling urgent tasks come in the way of all the important things. So now, since I can't type out a long post, I'll just leave after typing out a short one.

The past few days i've been reading plays. The thing about a play is that its all raw emotion. On the surface. Its real life. There is no show and tell. It's just real people as they are, emotions, conversations, thoughts.

It's complicated and sometimes messy, but often, so is life. And a good play makes me think for a week.

I read Mahesh Dattani's second volume of plays. I've been unfortunate enough to have never seen one in action. But I love them reading them anyway. This set holds no candle to his first volume. These are mostly written for the screen rather than the stage. That said, the detective plays are entertaining and the radio plays are thought provoking. 30 days in September is a play you need to see to understand.

Strangely, I liked Mango Souffle more than a On a Muggy Night in Bombay. (Former is a screenplay based on the latter which was written for the stage). There is no need for a tight space to showcase all of them, scenes can be set across time and space in a movie, which makes for more interesting reading.

I also re-read Badal Sircar's evam indrajeet. It's one of my favorite plays and always gets me thinking. If you haven't seen a performance of the play, you're missing something. A heavy play, you often need a day or two to digest it after reading it, but it is a powerful piece of work that speaks directly to you.

This then, is my heaven. A few minutes stolen for a secret mistress. My accounting text stares down at me, Kotler gives me a disapproving glance, while i sneak off to spend another half an hour with a book. But excuse me now, it's 6.55 pm. And as I said before I have a class at 7 pm.