We had a date with the theatre this weekend. We had high hopes for an entertaining evening, reminiscing the better parts of Hindu prose and mythology.
We were sorely disappointed. Shakuntala, a tale of love and honour, written by Kalidasa was grossly misrepresented in this theatre production at Pleiades Theatre at Harbourfront Centre, Toronto.
I had seen Anita Majumdar on stage prior to this production in the Misfit. It was very entertaining. She played 6 different characters in a riveting one-man show and did it with such energy and finesse, that she captivated her audience who stayed behind an entire hour or more for questions and an opportunity for a tete a tete with her and Deepa Mehta.
It grieved me to watch her become the weakest link in Shakuntala. She did not evolve into the character at all. It was as if Shakuntala had been kidnapped and Naznin had taken her place to complete the production. Her king and companion, Sanjay Talwar's Dushyanta was the most over-dramatized and extremely cliched Queen that had the gall to play the Majestic yet love-lorn Dushyanta. The lead characters were completely outstripped by the supporting cast. The Brahmin friend to Dushyanta, as well as Shakuntala's two female companions were stunning in their performances.
Its a pity that a production that had taken so much care in creating the atmosphere, composing the rhythmic screenplay and directing an English adaptation of a age-old story of love, could have gone wrong with the casting of their lead characters; thereby destroying the breath-taking illusion they had so painstakingly endeavoured to create.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Banks and why we love to hate them
I have an account with a local bank... we'll refer to it as AB. About 6 years ago, AB was actually A and B. Two separate entities. Then, something quite normal in the financial sector took place. They merged. I originally had an account with B. I was happy with it. Excellent customer service, lovely hours of operation and most of all, a commitment to making every transaction perfect.
Then A & B merged. All of a sudden, all the lovely qualities B used to have slowly began to wane. The hours of operation still remained... in fact, they were now longer. But the commitment to service and attention to detail avalanched to the depths of chaos.
Now I'm left with a feeling of uncertainty and distrust in the bank's ability to maintain any of my accounts - whether it be chequing, savings, visa, RRSP so on and so forth. And the crux of the problem lies in my inability to put in all the effort required to cancel all my accounts to switch everything to a different bank. There's also certain conveniences that would be inconvenient to do without... the bank is in close proximity to my home, is open till 8 pm and is easily accessible across the province and country.
But still... though I am unwillingly glued to this dysfunctional relationship, it is a cord that I am reluctant to cut. Does that mean I am lazy and a glutton for punishment? Or does it just make me human? Why is it that I feel so guilty and distraught after the angry phone call with the customer service representative? I have done nothing wrong. Neither has he. Why are we all paying with so much misused energy for the glaring inefficiencies of this ridiculously horrid entity - the Capitalist pig of a Bank.
And such I spend many wasted hours pondering on what makes me do the irrational useless things that I do.
Then A & B merged. All of a sudden, all the lovely qualities B used to have slowly began to wane. The hours of operation still remained... in fact, they were now longer. But the commitment to service and attention to detail avalanched to the depths of chaos.
Now I'm left with a feeling of uncertainty and distrust in the bank's ability to maintain any of my accounts - whether it be chequing, savings, visa, RRSP so on and so forth. And the crux of the problem lies in my inability to put in all the effort required to cancel all my accounts to switch everything to a different bank. There's also certain conveniences that would be inconvenient to do without... the bank is in close proximity to my home, is open till 8 pm and is easily accessible across the province and country.
But still... though I am unwillingly glued to this dysfunctional relationship, it is a cord that I am reluctant to cut. Does that mean I am lazy and a glutton for punishment? Or does it just make me human? Why is it that I feel so guilty and distraught after the angry phone call with the customer service representative? I have done nothing wrong. Neither has he. Why are we all paying with so much misused energy for the glaring inefficiencies of this ridiculously horrid entity - the Capitalist pig of a Bank.
And such I spend many wasted hours pondering on what makes me do the irrational useless things that I do.
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