Saturday, 31 July 2010

There are no small parts, just enormous ass holes.

Who said 'In the Theater, as in life, there are no small parts- just enormous ass holes?'

a) Stanislawski to Chekhov
b) Mahatma Gandhi to Tagore
c) Any Kapoor to any Khan
d) M.G.R to Karunanidhi

Answer- none of the above. I just made it up. What Gandhi actually said to Tagore was 'Sorry, my knees are somewhat knobbly.' Tagore replied 'Not at all, dear boy. Didn't feel a thing.' 'Very civil of you, all the same,' Gandhi replied, not to be outdone in savoir faire, 'It works wonders on my rheumatism.' Tagore remained silent. Gandhi raised his voice slightly, in consideration to the increasing deafness of the elderly poet, and repeated his remark by way of preamble to a rambling disquisition on the superiority of traditional naturopathic remedies to Western allopathic medicine.'
'Shame it doesn't work on hair!' Tagore suddenly said.
'What?"
'You and Nehru. Don't think I don't know.'
'What?'
'Shame it doesn't work on hair. You know- you and Nehru- what you get up to.'
'Oh hair! I thought you said hare- you know like a rabbit.'
'I didn't say hare- why would I want to suddenly bring up hares? I was referring to the fact that you and Nehru are as bald as coots whereas I have flowing locks.'
'Yeah? Well I'll fuck you up- you and your fucking Shantiniketan- just see if I don't. Your flowing locks indeed! You look like a fucking hijra!'
'I say, there's no call for that sort of language. Keep your hair on!'
"You ... cunt! Again with the hair!"
For a moment the two great men glowered at each other in silence.
Then Gandhi said, 'I say, Rabindranath, I'm sorry I flew off the handle.'
Tagore replied. 'I was about to say the same thing, Mohan Das. By the way- who is this Rabindranath you mention?'
Gandhi replied- 'Aren't you Rabindranath? And, by the by, why do you call me Mohan Das? My name's Steve.'
Tagore said, 'And mine Trevor.'
'Fancy a pint, Trev?'
'Don't mind if I do, Steve me old mucker.'
'Don't look. Nehru's just come in.'
'Eyes down. That boy aint right.'

I see the above as a Symbolist drama staged in the manner of Maeterlinck or the early Yeats. Offers from film studios are invited.

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