A Morning in Mumbai: Picnic With Playwrights

I am not easily drawn to Mumbai. The sheer size of the city and the effort it takes to move through taxis, railway stations and crowded platforms often leaves me tired. A few months ago, I had travelled there to watch Gigenis, choreographed by Akram Khan and performed by remarkable dancers such as Kapila Venu. I had not expected to return so soon.

But a few days ago, I was back again, thanks to Vivek Madan of Bhasha Trust. I was invited to be part of Picnic With Playwrights at the Mumbai Literature Festival. Conceived and curated by Bhasha Centre and presented in collaboration with the NCPA, Picnic With Playwrights is an event that brings playwrights and the craft of playwriting to the centre of attention and places them on the same playing field as other forms of literature. I appreciated this spirit of the event even before I reached the venue.

I often speak about my writing and thinking processes, yet this panel felt different. It was held outdoors in the gentle November light at Tata Gardens, NCPA. Under the shade of large trees were picnic sheets, baskets of fruit and glasses of coconut water. Sunlight slipped through the leaves and behind me the Arabian Sea shimmered quietly.

In our preparatory Zoom calls, we panelists (Shikha, Vinita and Kaizad) along with Vivek Madan, who was the delightful culprit behind bringing us together, had agreed that we would meet half an hour before the session. When we finally gathered that morning, it felt strangely familiar, as if we had known one another far longer than a few online conversations. The mood was calm and unhurried. There were no bright lights or strict schedules of an indoor auditorium. Instead, there was an easy sense of pause, as though the space itself welcomed us into a more thoughtful conversation.

Shikha Talsania and Vinita Sud Belani brought with them their own experiences, which connected with mine in unexpected and meaningful ways. Our discussion grew naturally. We spoke about the texture of writing for theatre, the pull of tradition and the need to step away from it, the influence of rehearsal rooms on what we write and the living, unpredictable nature of performance. With no moderator, the conversation found its own rhythm.

We read from our work as we talked. I shared a short scene from my play Anandbhog Mall. Kaizad Gherda played the piano during the readings, and his music blended beautifully with the words. It created a moment in which sound, text and the movements of the morning around us felt connected. I also introduced Lalbaag, a poem by Narayan Surve to the audience. One of the audience members read it aloud. I chose it because his birth centenary celebrations will begin in October 2026, and it felt right to bring his voice into that gathering.

What stayed with me was the openness of the space. Being outdoors, away from the formal boundaries of a stage or classroom, encouraged a more reflective conversation. The audience listened generously and asked thoughtful questions.

When the session ended and people began to disperse, I remained there for a short while. Friends who had come to attend the discussion met me, and their presence added to the warmth of the morning. I felt a quiet satisfaction in how gently and meaningfully the experience had unfolded. It reminded me that theatre, even when spoken about rather than performed, has the capacity to bring people together.

Looking back now, the morning feels like a small but memorable pause in my week. It reaffirmed the importance of conversations on dramaturgy, writing and performance, and the value of spaces like the Mumbai Literature Festival in nurturing these exchanges.

Image Credit: Literature Live The Mumbai LitFest 2025 @litlivefest