Chapter 18 – “Naa Tholi Veshamu…” - My First Role on Stage

 

I kept looking at my father. He was sitting in front of the mirror, watching his face very carefully. Not just for a minute or two — for a good five or six minutes. This would happen once a week.

Normally, my father never spent time in front of the mirror. Even while combing his hair, he would finish in half a minute. But when it came to shaving, he would sit with complete focus.

 

As a small boy, watching him apply soap to his beard and move the razor like someone ploughing the field fascinated me. I never got tired of watching that scene. My favourite part was when he rubbed the soap with the brush and made thick foam before applying it to his face. I would hide behind a pillar and watch the entire shaving “ceremony” without blinking.

 

I truly believed shaving was an art — and a brave act too. At times, thin red lines would appear in the white foam, tiny cuts that made my heart skip. Only then did I realise who the real villain was: the razor.

As he dipped the brush in water, rubbed it over the round soap box, raised a rich white foam and spread it gently across his beard, it felt as though he were applying make-up. Watching him, I would often think: if he knows the art of make-up so well, why doesn’t he go on stage and act in dramas?

And you won’t believe it, but my first stage make-up idea actually came from watching my father shave!

 

Father’s Beard… and My Drama

 

This happened in 1970, in our old village house at AdaviRavulapadu. I was watching my father shave and suddenly a brilliant idea struck me like lightning.

 “How should I do makeup for my first drama role?” — that doubt got cleared right there.

 I jumped up, ran outside, gathered my friends, and told them my plan.

They immediately said: “Super idea!”

 Just like that, we formed a small drama troupe in our village.

 The drama I chose was “Joker.”

The main role — of course — was mine. I gave other roles to my friends.

Inspiration: Mera Naam Joker

 

I had just watched the movie “ Mera Naam Joker” in Guntur before coming to the village. I liked the Joker role so much that I decided to act as a joker too.

 In our tiny play, my Joker would come on stage and keep saying:

“Mera Naam Joker… Mera Naam Joker…”

 The other kids would surround me and clap.

That’s it — that was the whole drama. There were no big scenes or dialogues!

One detail about Mera Naam Joker remains etched in my mind—it had two intervals. In those days, a film was expected to pause only once, so this unusual break became the talk of the town. Years later, when the film was re-released with a single interval, it achieved the success it had once been denied.

 

Village Theatres and Childhood Cinema

 

In Nandigama back then, we had only two cinema halls - Bharat Talkies and Vijaya Talkies.

Today only Vijaya Talkies exists — Bharat Talkies has become a residential complex, but even today people still call that area Bharat Talkies Centre.  Movies then were playedwith single projectors, so reels had to be changed manually — which meant extra breaks besides the interval.

 Anyway, the Joker’s role touched me deeply. His painted face, red nose, funny hat — making people laugh while he cried inside — that moved me.  I thought, “If I can laugh and cry like him, I too can be an actor!” I would cry if my father scolded me and laugh if my mother joked with me — so I proudly felt I already had both qualifications to be a hero!From that moment onward, I kept dreaming about the Joker role — even in my sleep.

 

My First Make-up

 

During summer vacation, as always, we came from Guntur to our village by bus and then by bullock cart. One morning, while father was shaving, that flash of inspiration struck me again.

 “As soon as he finishes shaving, I will take the soap and brush and do my own make-up!”

 Once he left the room, I grabbed the soap box and brush and ran behind the neem tree. The soap was still wet, so foam came easily. I applied the foam to my little face.

 Suddenly I remembered — no mirror!

So I ran back, brought the mirror, and looked at myself — and I burst out laughing. I really looked like a joker!

Only thing missing was the red nose and hat. But no problem — my sister’s bindi and my mother’s kumkum solved that. For dark shades near the eyes, I used kajal. My make-up was ready!

 

The Famous Bench

 

In front of our house, in the veranda, there was a big wooden bench. That was our “stage.”

We used to play many games on it — my favourite was Bus-Bus game. One kid would be the driver, one the conductor, others the passengers. We would imitate everything — honking, shouting, asking for tickets, stopping for cows on the road, and even applying screeching brakes.

Those childhood games taught me acting without my realizing it—doctor, postman, driver, policeman, teacher, bullock-cart boy… I slipped into every role with ease. But no one saw the actor in me. No one recognised it. That silence hurt. So I made a quiet decision, firm and burning inside: “One day I will step onto a stage, and the whole village will know who I am.”

From that moment, my dream drama—Joker—began its journey.

 

My First Stage, My First Role

 

We planned seriously.

• Stage? — The big bench.

• Curtain? — Hang a bedsheet on a rope.

• Lights? — No need, perform in daylight.

• Mike? — No need, I will shout loudly!

• Audience? — Go around the village and call boys.

• Makeup? — Only for Joker.

 Without knowing, I was acting as director, actor, and make-up artist — all at age 12!

 That simple village show later pushed me towards theatre, awards, and recognition — but it all started with soap foam, a mirror, and a boy’s imagination.

 

 

 

The Stage, Solo Acts & Recognition

Later, in Andhra Prabha office celebrations, I started acting on stage again. I performed monologues as well as small drama roles. In monologue competitions, I won Best Solo Actor three times in a row.

 

The main reason for that success was the kind of characters I chose. The first time, I performed as Shirdi Sai Baba. I wrote the script myself and directed it too. I used to practice at home, and my wife Sridevi supported me a lot. Since she did M.A. (Telugu) and also loves literature and stage arts, thepreparation became easier.

 

When I appeared on stage as Shirdi Sai Baba, the audience simply stared without blinking. The first prize went to “Shirdi Sai Baba.”

Next year, I performed the role of Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa. Again, there was a wonderful response. Peoplewho didn’t know much about him came to me after the show asking for details about his life.

 

Honestly, even I had known very little about him earlier. But to prepare the script, I read books, took notes, and slowly developed a deep devotion toward Sri Ramakrishna. For those few minutes on stage, I almost felt I had become the Saint!That’s the real magic of acting — actor and character must become one.

I enacted the same role in my next performance too, and I won the top prize!

 

Later, during NTR’s first death anniversary, a cultural trust conducted solo-acting competitions in Vijayawada (at Hanumantharaya Library). With office permission, I participated and did Sri Ramakrishna’s role again. I won the Prize!

 

During the awards ceremony, one speaker said: “NTR played so many roles, but never portrayed Ramakrishna Paramahamsa. May be, he got his wish fulfilled through this young man.” For me, that was a priceless compliment!

Following year, I acted as Sri Raghavendra Swamy in Andhra Prabha annual event and won again.

 I also enacted monologues like Girīsham and Chantodu. Slowly, I became active in writing scripts and acting in plays too.

Ugadi (New Year for the Telugu speaking people) became a special festival for me. Wherever I worked, I either organized or acted in Ugadi programmes. Even after retirement, in my Hyderabad gated community, I continue to conduct Ugadi events.

 

Writing for Radio and Recognition

 

Drama writing and radio plays are closely related. Those with theatre background can write powerful radio plays.

 

At All India Radio Vijayawada, Producer Mantravadi Maheshwar spotted my writing talent and encouraged me towrite plays and radio features. My radio play ‘Narude Onarudaite’ received appreciation.

 

Later, in Hyderabad, encouraged by Vijaya Madam, I wrote ‘Adigo Harivillu’, which received a National Best Radio Feature Award.

 

In England…

 

During my UK trip, I visited Shakespeare’s birthplace (Stratford). I watched young artists perform Romeo & Juliet in an open-air theatre. Their acting moved me deeply.

 

After the scene, I walked up to them, introduced myself and congratulated them. They felt very happy. For an actor, appreciation is worth more than any medal.

 

Life is a Stage

 

As Shakespeare said: “All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players.”

God is the director, we are all actors in the play of life.

Acting on stage is an art.

Acting in life is deception.

Theatre teaches you the difference.

These memories are just a glimpse of my theatre journey — there is still much left to tell. The story is long; the memories are sweet.

*****