Mr. Ravana, please stand up.

“Hahahahahahaha”

“Hohohohohoho”

Am I celebrating a premature Christmas?

No.

These were the opening lines of Ravana’s scene yesterday. Come Dussera and the whole neighbourhood throngs at the Ramlila Maidan of the locality. Age/caste/class/religion/gender no bar.

We have been ardent followers of the last-day-of-the-navratra mayhem. So last evening my brother, father and I set out for our yearly laughter marathon. The chairs were set. The eye piercing bright-pink satin curtains drawn closed. Incomprehensible bhajans were being sung deafeningly by the mandali. We were early.

We seated ourselves equidistant from the stage and the to-be-burnt Ravana that stood quite malnourished compared to its previous avatars. In his good old days he used to have Kumbhakarna standing next to him for company. The recession has spared no one. Sigh.

Suddenly the singers muted themselves, and emerged from the wings Hanuman with his, handful in number, Vaanar Sena. They did a little disco jig to entertain us while the other characters, I presume, were getting ready. Soon enough, Rama and Lakshmana entered the scene and settled themselves on the thrones looking rather jaded. Nine days of acting can take a toll on anyone. While the audience was filling up, Rama and Lakshmana sat like statues with the rest attempting to hop-shoot-fly as they sabotaged the mike periodically to bellow- ‘Jai Shri Ram.’

But what I was waiting for was my favourite bhajan that’ll put even Metallica to shame; a beat-iful number- ‘Ram ji Ki Sena Chali.’ It gives me epileptic fits every time I listen to it. Its another thing that the thunderous loud speaker seemed to send waves that penetrated one’s chest as though someone were administering a cardio pulmonary resuscitation. Pardon the medical metaphors. It’s a genetic habit.

Well, once the Ravana was ready with his nine heads. Yes. I said nine because we believe in physics and the principal of balance. If there is a central head that cannot be shifted, we make do with four on each side, irrespective of the fact that during the famous battle when Ravana found his extra heads inconvenient, he quietly stepped into the wings and got one of his minions to remove them. Voila! A one-headed more comfortable, hence more confident Ravana surfaced.

It was interesting to note that during the battle Rama and Ravana exchanged pleasantries. ‘Don’t step too close to the edge of the stage.’ ‘Avoid tripping on the mike lines.’ ‘That make-up looks superb.’ Personally, I would want Ravana to enter a dance competition. The grace and panache with which he waltzed around the stage was unparalleled.

The battle was the laughter bomb. Those not participating in the battle (this happens when one side has more people and they have to wait for their chance to fight) posed like body builders centre stage, much to the delight of the photographer. Here, I would like to establish that the fight sequence comprised mainly of Rama and Ravana revolving around the stage like two planets in an orbit. It is also imperative to bring to your notice that while Rama revolved with his bow and a set of arrows, Ravana did the same with his sword and vice-versa. In the midst of this circling circus they employed a new theatrical technique- that of stills. All of a sudden all the characters would assemble at the centre of the stage and form a still- mostly of Ravana in the centre with Rama stepping on one of his thighs and all weapons pointing at him. Picture taken. Disperse.

This happened more than a couple of times. Similar formations. Different positions. Only problem- they were all smiling. (This, however, is a technological problem as we have invented cameras that click pictures only when people are smiling)

Highlight of the day- Ravana’s abrupt death as the Mayor, the Chief Guest of the evening, arrived. Flutter of an eye lid and out of the blue Ravana is horizontal. Hanuman bends the mike to capture Ravana’s finale act- ‘Raaaaaaammm… Raaaaaammmmmmm…’ Anyway, we obviously need a politician on stage saying- ‘Truth will prevail. The unjust will be punished… etc.’ One could have just rewound and replayed all their campaign speeches.

We probably hailed the gods a gazillion times as the itinerary of the evening had to have fill-ups. The fill-ups were undoubtedly getting the audience hands up and letting out religious roars.

The moment that we had all been waiting for finally arrived. Combustion time. As Rama and Lakshmana strode through the aisle towards the to-be-burnt Ravana, we had our hand up again. Religious roar number gazillion+one. It was lit and a string of fire crackers blew off. The children screeched in delight. But. Post the singular string of a couple of fireworks the plan of the whole Ravana setting ablaze flopped. Ravana was still upright and alive with fluorescent red lights for eyes. I’d love to say it was an epic fail, literally. Pyro-technological error.

Solution: just poke the thing with a fire stick. Kaboom.

End of story.

There was a lot more I wanted to say but I’m so sleepy that the words are now doing a jalsa in my brain. It was an eventful evening with tears of laughter streaming down our faces. We haven’t laughed this much in a while. It felt good.

Will we go for it next year? Always.