Antony and Cleopatra : (Not a review...)

Master William Shakespeare! He condemns the power of Name in one of his famous dialogues. But I daresay Shakespeare fails there. For His very own name has stirred generations and even right now whilst typing his Name my hands yield goose pimples. In Mumbai language; I have no Laayki to write about Shakespeare. I seriously don’t. I haven't read much of his literature. I don't know how many lifetimes I would take to actually Understand those completely. I forgive my trifle soul fo even Sir P.G. Woodhouse had read complete shakespeare in his imprisonment during second world war. With my fingers crossed I pray for avoidance of such a peril. Yet, I cannot but hold up my exhilaration to articulate the experience I had. To watch Antony and Cleopatra. In Shakespeare’s Globe theatre for which none other than Shakespeare himself wrote several of his stupendous plays. While ambling upon the pathway a thought struck my mind. A few hundred years ago; the Man himself must have walked past the same ground as I am. He must have touched these wooden railings and he must have drunk water from this same stone goblet statue’ed in the theatre premises. And I wished I could float and not stamp on of his footsteps hidden somewhere there. I slurped a fistful of water from the goblet and palmed my eyes…just like I do it in the temple after consumption of Teertha.
I felt like a pilgrim…and trust me hey you…so would you.

Bequeathing spirit to fading history he immortalised it in his plays like Antony and Cleopatra. The story itself being a terrific drama in its own, its characters are personified by potency of Shakespeare’s miraculous language. The allure and ambiguity of Cleopatra, rage amongst Romans, the sting Antony suffers after betrayal by his beloved and the cruel game of fate operating upon the lives of these poor souls, ends up in a painful melodrama…and needless to say an enchanting experience. Shakespeare sprinkles absolutely unanticipated humour during utmost dramatic of scenes; thus swaying the spectators along waves of distinct emotions. Veteran actors like Nicholas Jones as Antony, Frances Barber as Cleopatra are brilliant of the cadre and the theatre is sustained in the same archaic structure as it was 400 years ago. Pouring rains couldn’t but perturb the attention of the audiences and they stood still for it was impossible to get out of their congruence with a bygone age. The play ended with a classic European tap dance piece when the audience was also on the toes…clapping.
Upon the yard of the globe are affixed tiles with engraved names of greatest actors of English theatre, who have acted on this stage. Shakespeare lovers from across many nationalities, age groups and social status had amassed there to salute to their master writer. All hath pecked an experience of a lifetime. Worth cherishing. Worth relishing. Truly worth worshipping.

Master Shakespeare; thou art great…dust thou know that?

P.s. With all my heart I beg for pardon to Master Shakespeare for daring to even write this much about his works. I just wanted to pay homage to Him and His works. That’s truly all.