A tuition teacher's online make-up tutorial goes astray, ending up in a meditative-reflective space, which is cathartic for the viewer, too
Poster of Jyoti Dogra's Nihayati Niji Baatein With Geeta Tyagi, uploaded under the aegis of the Serendipity Arts Virtual fest
In one of those halcyon pre-pandemic years, 2014 to be precise, when watching a play in a packed house could be a weekend high point in Mumbai, I remember being totally impacted by the 100-minute-long solo piece devised by the immensely talented actor Jyoti Dogra. Her Notes on Chai at NCPA’s Experimental Theatre, prompted the audience to decode the seemingly surface-level banal conversations around tea. As Dogra fused familiar chai talk with the sonic textures of chanting Tibetan monks, she made me reassess the words I mouth while sipping tea with friends, neighbours, colleagues and strangers. Do we speak as a matter of everyday rituals, teatime being one? Does the spoken word matter at all? Those were the questions put forth by Notes on Chai. which will, incidentally, resume on February 16 and 17 at Prithvi Theatre.
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Six years later, as I greet the lockdown-impacted January 2021, Dogra, 50, again presents another set of soul searching and even more intimate questions. This time, her solo performance, Nihayati Niji Baatein With Geeta Tyagi, comes in the form of an online video, uploaded under the aegis of Serendipity Arts Virtual fest. It is curated by Anmol Vellani, founder-director, India Foundation for the Arts; IFA grant has also been central to Dogra’s earlier acclaimed devised piece Black Hole, which explores the holes in the larger universe and the mysteries residing within the human self.
Dogra as Tyagi asks viewers to either react to her narrative or contribute their story. Thousands of people have shared their perspectives with rare honesty
Jyoti Dogra’s self—her reading of the contemporary world, her espousal of Polish director Jerzy Grotowski’s poor theatre conventions, her minimalism—remain at the centre of all her devised solo works, as is manifest in the 23 minute-long Nihayati Niji Baatein. She goes under the skin of a private tutor Geeta Tyagi who had failed to qualify for the final round of Ms Ramesh Nagar beauty contest, way back in 1993. In her first online make-up tutorial, Tyagi intends to come across as a happening person with a focused calling and eclectic interests like bonsai and homeopathy. She needs to put her best foot forward, as someone in full control of her life. She is aware of her routine life, but the online make-up demo attempt is her chance to experience the “extraordinary”.
As she starts, the result is exactly opposite—unintended, but surprisingly liberating towards the end, which she admits while controlling her tears. Her makeup tips—what to conceal and how to highlight—gradually become the backdrop for a rare personal sharing. At the outset, she breaks some core rules by acknowledging her facial imperfections: a raised eyebrow, absent cheekbones, uneven skintone etc. But, before you see shades of a typical accept-your-body-and-be-positive template, she opens the door for a greater bonding, the kind—albeit one-sided in her case—that one aspires for in genuine relationships.
The video takes place as a makeup tutorial and can be seen on https://nihayatiniji.serendipity artsvirtual.com/
She shares her unrealised dreams of travelling as a beauty pageant winner. Had she been selected as Ms Ramesh Nagar, she had plans for entering the Miss India and Miss Universe contests. She wanted to make a difference, and not become a tuition teacher. It is not that she hates teaching science and maths to class VI , VII and VIII students, but she had expected more from life.
After much lingering and afterthought, she completes her truly private story, and now asks for more. She wants the unseen viewer to either react to her narrative or contribute his or her story. Interestingly, people (in thousands) have shared their perspectives with rare honesty.
Dogra’s video provokes an enquiry. It underlines “the social media versions” of ourselves that we knowingly-unknowingly market in our photographs, posts and exchanges across platforms. Also, she points towards the formulaic sharing that social media facilitates—be it birthday wishes, condolences or motivational fitness messaging—which can get suffocating at some point.
An oddball vulnerable Tyagi, who innocently advises you to mix water in the dried up foundation cream and dreams of going to Iceland one day, is a refreshing reminder of the valid place that failure has in our lives. Just as there is slickness in capturing the perfect profile sunrise picture, there is a catharsis in letting your guard down.
As I watched Tyagi, my mind travelled back to Himachal Pradesh 2017, where I achieved a personal holiday goal by paragliding from the 2,430 metre high Billing take off site to land in the Bir village. Though accompanied by the adventure company’s helper pilot, the aerial descent was a feather in my cap, duly videographed and shared online with friends and particularly inboxed to my son who had doubts about the agility of my 50-year-old self. My paragliding experience, directed outward than inward, was nihayati niji source material that I publicised for personal reasons. I am thankful for a beginning-of-the-year trigger that showcased the “personal” through the prism of the “social”.
Sumedha Raikar-Mhatre is a culture columnist in search of the sub-text. You can reach her at sumedha.raikar@mid-day.com