Underground Hangout
Things just somehow happen at Bakheda, Delhi's hippest performance hub. You could catch quirky and riveting performances as part of the experimental theatre weekend
"We are looking for Bakheda," say the young girls to a puzzled villager in Said-ul-Ajib near Delhi's Garden of Five Senses. "Do you know where it is?" I see them and smile. Bakheda is such a well-kept secret that even though you can find its address and a rough map online, reaching it is a bit of a task. I show them the way to Delhi's latest, and perhaps hippest, underground hangout, looking forward to Saag Meat an edible play by Seema Bhargava Pahwa (best known as India's first TV soap Hum Log's Badki) that is kick-starting an experimental theatre weekend at Bakheda.
When I reach the venue, however, a band of Ladakhi boys is playing. "Oh, they were in town and we thought it would be cool to open with them," says Jiten Suchede, one of the founders of Bakheda. Like everything else at this not-for-profit venue, the organisers are noticeably casual and hang-loose about their events. Yet, gigs of varied and weird hues have happened in quick succession in what was apparently once a chicken factory. "Things just somehow happen here. We've had French brass bands, motley poets, a symposium on shit and much more," he says. Even for this bunch of seven enthusiasts who collectively rent this space, the response to Bakheda has been unexpected. "It's made us realise that Delhi's full of interesting people who want to showcase the cool things they do - and an audience that wants to see them!" he says.
People mill about as the Ladakhi boys bring a taste of the mountains to the industrial-style shed, transformed by large statues of unknown origin. Suchede's other, equally innovative venture Jugmug Thela - his homage to the humble tea stall - sells artisanal teas and Vietnamese coffee along with fresh baked cookies in the garden. Next to it is a cold drinks stall set up by the special-needs section of Karm Marg. Just then, a whisper goes out that the play is about to begin.
The stage is a makeshift kitchen. A large utensil is resting upon a noisy gas stove. Pahwa sits in front of the stove and begins conversing with the audience. "Behenji, how nice to see you! Have you eaten something? Have some chai-shai!" she says in a typical Punjabi accent. It takes minutes for me to figure out that the performance has actually begun.
Set in the kitchen of an affluent Punjabi family, the play is a poignant commentary on class relations within the household. Pahwa plays the lady of the house, cooking saag meat for a dinner party. As the ghee heats in the pan, she tells the audience about the delectable saag meat that their faithful servant used to make. Pahwa peppers the narrative with lively accounts of the Punjab digestion, the trials of an overweight wife whose husband spends his evenings playing bridge and more. The onions brown, and the mood of her story turns sombre. She describes how the servant brings his newly-wed wife home and how her husband's younger brother embarks on a clandestine affair with her. At this riveting juncture, she takes a break as she adds the mutton to her simmering pot. Once it's browned and she's added the yoghurt, she resumes her story. A conspiracy of silence develops in her household - she sees the brother-in-law furtively entering the servant's room but doesn't tell her husband; her husband already knows what going on, but is satisfied that at least his brother isn't visiting prostitutes and risking venereal disease. The tension simmers, much like the mutton in her pot.
An adaptation of a short story by noted Hindi litterateur Bhisham Sahni, Saag Meat really comes to life in its edible format. Pahwa says that the idea of such a performance came to her in the kitchen. "I had performed this play years ago with the Delhi-based Sambhav theatre group. One day, while cooking mutton, the lines of this play came back to me. I realised that it took just about as long to say the lines as it did for my mutton to cook. That's when the idea of experimenting with an edible performance came to me," says she.
The first time she performed Saag Meat was in her own Mumbai terrace for an intimate group of theatre buffs that included Naseeruddin Shah. "They all liked the play and the mutton," she says, "It gave me the chance to combine two of my life-long pleasures - cooking and theatre! Since then, I've performed this play at least 20 times, mostly in the gardens and terraces of friends' houses." After her performance, as the audience makes a beeline for the saag meat and hot tandoori rotis, everyone's talking about the universality of the story and Pahwa's interactive, entertaining story-telling. Pahwa chats easily with her audience about her critically-acclaimed film Aankhon Dekhi and shares her recipes.
Next on the cards for Bakheda is London-based Vacuum Theatre's Something From Nothing - a provocative performance that pushes the boundaries of storytelling and performance. I ask Suchede what's on at Bakheda after this weekend. He laughs: "I haven't a clue! It's a mystery to us how performers across the world seem to find out about us and come to perform here…But they somehow just do, so all we can do is update our Facebook page with new events, sit back and enjoy the ride!"
When I reach the venue, however, a band of Ladakhi boys is playing. "Oh, they were in town and we thought it would be cool to open with them," says Jiten Suchede, one of the founders of Bakheda. Like everything else at this not-for-profit venue, the organisers are noticeably casual and hang-loose about their events. Yet, gigs of varied and weird hues have happened in quick succession in what was apparently once a chicken factory. "Things just somehow happen here. We've had French brass bands, motley poets, a symposium on shit and much more," he says. Even for this bunch of seven enthusiasts who collectively rent this space, the response to Bakheda has been unexpected. "It's made us realise that Delhi's full of interesting people who want to showcase the cool things they do - and an audience that wants to see them!" he says.
People mill about as the Ladakhi boys bring a taste of the mountains to the industrial-style shed, transformed by large statues of unknown origin. Suchede's other, equally innovative venture Jugmug Thela - his homage to the humble tea stall - sells artisanal teas and Vietnamese coffee along with fresh baked cookies in the garden. Next to it is a cold drinks stall set up by the special-needs section of Karm Marg. Just then, a whisper goes out that the play is about to begin.
The stage is a makeshift kitchen. A large utensil is resting upon a noisy gas stove. Pahwa sits in front of the stove and begins conversing with the audience. "Behenji, how nice to see you! Have you eaten something? Have some chai-shai!" she says in a typical Punjabi accent. It takes minutes for me to figure out that the performance has actually begun.
Set in the kitchen of an affluent Punjabi family, the play is a poignant commentary on class relations within the household. Pahwa plays the lady of the house, cooking saag meat for a dinner party. As the ghee heats in the pan, she tells the audience about the delectable saag meat that their faithful servant used to make. Pahwa peppers the narrative with lively accounts of the Punjab digestion, the trials of an overweight wife whose husband spends his evenings playing bridge and more. The onions brown, and the mood of her story turns sombre. She describes how the servant brings his newly-wed wife home and how her husband's younger brother embarks on a clandestine affair with her. At this riveting juncture, she takes a break as she adds the mutton to her simmering pot. Once it's browned and she's added the yoghurt, she resumes her story. A conspiracy of silence develops in her household - she sees the brother-in-law furtively entering the servant's room but doesn't tell her husband; her husband already knows what going on, but is satisfied that at least his brother isn't visiting prostitutes and risking venereal disease. The tension simmers, much like the mutton in her pot.
An adaptation of a short story by noted Hindi litterateur Bhisham Sahni, Saag Meat really comes to life in its edible format. Pahwa says that the idea of such a performance came to her in the kitchen. "I had performed this play years ago with the Delhi-based Sambhav theatre group. One day, while cooking mutton, the lines of this play came back to me. I realised that it took just about as long to say the lines as it did for my mutton to cook. That's when the idea of experimenting with an edible performance came to me," says she.
The first time she performed Saag Meat was in her own Mumbai terrace for an intimate group of theatre buffs that included Naseeruddin Shah. "They all liked the play and the mutton," she says, "It gave me the chance to combine two of my life-long pleasures - cooking and theatre! Since then, I've performed this play at least 20 times, mostly in the gardens and terraces of friends' houses." After her performance, as the audience makes a beeline for the saag meat and hot tandoori rotis, everyone's talking about the universality of the story and Pahwa's interactive, entertaining story-telling. Pahwa chats easily with her audience about her critically-acclaimed film Aankhon Dekhi and shares her recipes.
Next on the cards for Bakheda is London-based Vacuum Theatre's Something From Nothing - a provocative performance that pushes the boundaries of storytelling and performance. I ask Suchede what's on at Bakheda after this weekend. He laughs: "I haven't a clue! It's a mystery to us how performers across the world seem to find out about us and come to perform here…But they somehow just do, so all we can do is update our Facebook page with new events, sit back and enjoy the ride!"
The current festival is on till April 14. Bakheda follows an ever-changing, non-structured format of events. To follow their events and the venue where they will be held, check their Facebook page: www.facebook.com/bakheda