But
we set all of that aside. We persevere. We work, and we fill in our
nine-to-five. We give away our time and labour for seemingly big affairs accounts,
economy, taxes, management, services and whatnot. It’s the same with Biren
Pratap Karki, the protagonist of Go Win Productions’ ‘Euta Sapana Ko Awasan’ adapted
to Nepali from Arthur Miller’s 1949 stage play ‘Death of a Salesman.’
Biren is a salesman. What exactly does he sell? Nobody knows. More exactly, it
doesn’t matter. Because his life a job, two sons and a wife is the life of an
everyday man. A successful salesman in his youth, he has now grown old, but his
psyche is still stuck in a time in the past when all was well he earned
decently, and his sons adored him. But the present is far from that idealised
abode. It is ridden with credits and loans, a job that is exhausting and sons
that have lost their ways.
So
Biren chooses to live somewhere in the middle. His character (played by Roy) is
stuck between two realities symbolised by the hat he wears and takes off a
sweet, rose-coloured past when the future looked so promising and the
melancholic reality of a crowded, suffocating city that has no place for an
ageing middle-class man like him.
The
play, both the original and the adaptation, is a critique of the capitalist
utopia. Back in 1949, Miller was clearly hinting towards the fallacies of the
‘American Dream’ that promised any hardworking man dignity, money and
everything in between. Bandhu Biren’s brother, who makes it big in
But the play hints at something more. How much of a man’s life is determined by
the system? His upbringing, his actions—do they matter in how his future turns
out? Yes, Biren is an exploited individual, but he’s also shown to be uncaring
and egotistical. He wants to live vicariously through his elder son Sanup
Pratap’s life (played by Divya Dev), grooming him so much that Sanup starts
feeling trapped by his father’s expectations of him. Sanup is only as much as
he can achieve—good grades, a good university, or a good job. Biren is a
dreamer—but an unrealistic one. He always boasts himself to be better than he
is and teaches his sons to do the same. Even during hardships, he can’t swallow
his pride to accept a job from a close friend.
This
is why, as he grows old, he downright refuses to acknowledge his current
situation. Instead, he chooses to find shelter in his past—to the point where
his sons are convinced he has grown mad. Research has
found that as men retire, the chances of them falling into depression increase. Why?
Historically, men were expected to be the ones who work and bring money home.
That’s where their value was attached. Biren, in one of his hallucinogenic
episodes, claims, “As men, we have to add something to society.”
But clearly, this burden is
too much to bear. Especially for men with lesser means. Are the lives of our
fathers only to earn till they grow old? “Your father isn’t a great man. But
he’s a human being,” says Leela to her sons. Patriarchy affects men too, moulding
them into money-making machines that aren’t supposed to show an ounce of
weakness. And watching Biren try exhaustingly hard to fit that narrative and
force his sons to follow suit was an aching experience.
The play, in its two hours and forty-five minutes running
time, brings up a lot of emotionally charged issues. But it doesn’t preach. It
doesn’t tell us what to think. Instead, the play seamlessly flows from the past
to the present, and the thinly veiled lies of the characters on stage slowly
unfold to give the story its momentum.
Divya Dev’s character as Sanup stood out. His anger at his
father for burdening him with unrealistic dreams wasn’t loud or flashy but
silent—shown not by words but by his facial expressions and movements around
the stage—which made the dilemmas his character was going through even more
real. Deeya Maskey gelled well with Leela, the ever-understanding wife.
There were also some things that didn’t work. The sounds
used in certain scenes felt out of place, as they didn’t resonate with the
essence of the scene. There was also a coordinated dance number, where Biren
and his two sons burst into jumpy dance moves which could throw the audience
off. The portrayal of the two sons when young was a tad bit too comical, a very
American Pie-esque way of looking at teenagers. There was also the femme-fatale
character of Paru—red lipstick, all-back lingerie, a rather cliche portrayal of
‘the other woman.’
A bar scene featured two women written solely for the male
gaze, one of whom at one point looks at Biren and says, “Will you sit with us,
DADDY?” One can understand the need to make the play more interesting because
it is lengthy, but could it have been done more sensitively? The play adapted by the BBC in
1996 had smaller characters, especially those of women, much
more toned down and realistic.
While not perfect (things rarely are), ‘Euta Sapana ko
Awasan’ is a pertinent play that must be seen. It is an existential play that
serves as a harsh reminder that life may find a way to bring us down—especially
if we do not have the means to float. But unlike Biren, who was too busy
whirling in the possibilities of what could have been, we can be more honest
with ourselves—understand our biases and limitations and then plan our lives.
Even after that, there is no telling where life will lead us. But perhaps
bravery lies in the acceptance of this brutal truth—the play gives us no
answers.
—
Euta Sapana Ko Awasan
Directed by: Anup Baral
Adapted by: Viplob Pratik
Produced by: Govind Parajuli
Cast: Deeya Maskey, Roy, Divya Dev,
Bikash Joshi
Where: Mandala Theatre, Thapagaun,
When: Till April 23 at 5:15pm
(closed on Mondays, additional 1pm shows Fridays and Saturdays)
The play was produced by Go Win Productions in association with Actors Studio and Mandala Theatre. An earlier version of the article had erroneously mentioned Mandala Theatre as the producer of the adaptation of Arthur Miller’s ‘Death of a Salesman’.
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