It was late Friday evening last weekend. Back home after a long day at work, a message popped up on my phone from noted Kannada film director KM Chaitanya; about an evening of stories by Ashish Vidyarthi on the following day.
‘Kahanibaaz - Stories That Heal’ was not something that I would have liked to miss as just the other day I had watched Ashish narrate on an Instagram reel; on people, who without asking, always assure others in difficult times that they are there for them. "Main hoon na,” (I’m there for you) maybe a small language construct, but a life line of assurance from someone who is always available to others but for himself and in the process, ends up being isolated. It’s one thing to narrate, it’s something else to echo someone else’s narrative.
I called up Chaitanya and he said that the 6pm show of ‘Kahanibaaz’ was sold out. “But you could call Ashish. He may help,” he said. It was already 11pm. I dropped Ashish a message and the next morning, he called confirming my ticket for the show.
Ashish entered into the small auditorium – Ministry of Comedy – at Koramangala that evening on February 7 as if he was part of the audience. The narration of his early life, in a barsati (a humble terrace dwelling) on the rooftop of Panna Devi Jain house in Mumbai with his parents was poignant but carried enough warmth to warm up the growing chill inside the air conditioned auditorium.
“Us ghar mein cheezein bahut kum theen, lekin pyaar bahut zyada tha (the house had fewer things but had a lot of love),” Ashish’s eyes twinkled as he spoke about the love he received from his parents. He moved on navigating diverse emotions and self criticism bordering on ridicule with commendable craft – his struggle as a theatre artiste aspiring to enter the big screen; the rejections and failed attempts against an undying will to go ahead. “Jab koi kehta hai ki tum kuchh bhi kar sakte ho...josh aa jaata hai...par zindagi ki burri aadat hai, hosh mein lay aati hai...” (when someone tells you that you can achieve anything it boosts your morale but life makes it a point to bring you to senses). One thing about Ashish is that he can laugh when he could be crying – like the main hoon na person.
As an actor he has immense agility to swim with and against the tide with the same equanimity; of emotions and narration. “Kayi baar garibi aur gurbat aapko dard se rukne ki izzazat nahi deta” (often poverty and adversity do not allow you to pause). A serious footnote on a tough and self–guided life need not always be sombre.
Ashish narrated incidents of his life – from being forced to throw a lavish party in a five-star hotel after winning the National Award for his role in Dhrohkaal, when he didn’t have a penny on him to his personal life.
His storytelling is not just honest, it is therapy. “Hum log zindagi mein sarakte rehte hain…us roshni ki taraf jise hum chahte hain,” (we move towards the ray of light that we yearn for in our lives), he said looking into the eyes of the audience.