Dr. Anandibai

Hu Chandrakant Bakshi

I, Chandrakant Bakshi

The story of Gujarati literature's most controversial writer, told by the man himself — or rather, by Pratik Gandhi inhabiting him with a ferocity that made audiences forget they were watching an actor. Chandrakant Bakshi (1932–2006) authored 178 books, served as Professor of History, became Sheriff of Mumbai, got his short story 'Kutti' banned by the Gujarat government, publicly defied Bal Thackeray and refused to apologise, and wrote an autobiography so incendiary that parts of it could not be published. His writing style — Gujarati laced with Urdu, Hindi, and English — was as deliberately provocative as his public persona. He was, by every account, an incredible egoist. He was also, by every account, adored by his readers. Written by Shishir Ramavat and drawn from Bakshi's autobiography Bakshinama, the play premiered on 15 June 2013 at Prithvi Theatre. Manoj Shah uses a ladder throughout the production as a metaphor for Bakshi's obsession with being on top. Gandhi — years before Scam 1992 would make him a household name — delivers what CreativeYatra called a 'cautious yet fearless' performance, bringing the bold and egotist protagonist to 'flawless perfection.' This play, along with Mohan No Masalo two years later, is credited with solidifying Pratik Gandhi's reputation as an actor of immense talent.

Mr. Apple

A riveting Gujarati drama exploring Steve Jobs' turbulent relationship with his daughter Lisa Brennan-Jobs. How do you measure greatness — by brilliance alone, or by the complexities that shape a person? Mr. Apple, written by Shishir Ramavat and directed by Manoj Shah, sits with the extraordinary yet deeply flawed life of the iconic entrepreneur behind Apple Inc. Jobs is universally celebrated as the visionary who revolutionised technology and birthed the digital age, but his personal journey was marked by contradictions and poignant ironies. Abandoned by his biological parents, he tragically repeated the cycle with his own daughter Lisa, whom he initially refused to acknowledge as his child. The play captures their explosive, often heartbreaking relationship through intense confrontations, deep-seated bitterness, cathartic meltdowns, and eventual moments of tenderness and reconciliation. Rather than depicting a conventional father-daughter narrative, Mr. Apple portrays how human relationships are never purely black or white but painted in nuanced shades of grey. It does more than celebrate Steve Jobs' brilliance — it courageously reveals his vulnerabilities and emotional struggles, offering a humane portrayal of the man behind the legend. As audiences witness the human inside the icon, the play invites introspection into identity, legacy, and the universal quest for connection and acceptance. Designed by Kabir Thakore with music by Amit Bhavsar and lights by Inaayat Sami, performed by Disha Savla Upadhyay, Alpesh Dixit, and Pinkesh Prajapati.

Adbhut

The Wonder Within

A solo Gujarati adaptation of Every Brilliant Thing by Duncan Macmillan and Jonny Donahoe — one of the most performed plays in the world — reimagined for Indian audiences by Satchit Puranik and directed by Manoj Shah. The original play premiered at the Ludlow Fringe Festival in 2013 with Donahoe performing, before transferring to London and an HBO special. It has since been staged thousands of times worldwide. Puranik's Gujarati adaptation transforms the play's cultural texture — Doordarshan evenings replace Saturday morning cartoons, garba nights replace school dances — while preserving its radical theatrical form: the audience is the cast. From the moment the play begins, the boundary between performer and audience dissolves. RJ Devaki guides the room through the story of a girl who, at age seven, begins a list of every brilliant thing worth living for as a way to pull her mother back from the edge of depression. The list grows as the girl grows, through adolescence, heartbreak, marriage, and the quiet weight of adulthood. With nothing but a chair, a Daffy Duck sweatshirt, and extraordinary presence, Devaki turns strangers in the audience into co-performers, drawing out laughter, silence, and tears in equal measure. Adbhut is not a lecture on mental health — it is a lived experience of it, told with the warmth of someone who understands that sadness and wonder can occupy the same breath.

Kaagdo

Happiness Decoded

Imagine a world where being happy is a crime. That is the reality in Kaagdo — a biting satire named after the Gujarati folk tale Anandi Kaagdo (The Happy Crow), in which a crow is punished by a king but gleefully sings and enjoys every punishment. The play follows a man — a humble, barefoot government worker in a striped sweater — whose wife has died, whose daughter lives abroad, who owns nothing of consequence, and who is inexplicably, unshakeably content. This is considered suspicious. He is taken to court. A relentless lawyer is brought in to interrogate this anomaly, to crack open this man’s happiness and find the secret formula the world believes must exist. Written by Geeta Manek and directed by Manoj Shah, Kaagdo draws from Japanese ikigai, Sufism, and Zen Buddhism to ask the simplest and most destabilising question in modern life: what if happiness is not something you chase, but something you already have? Jay Upadhyay plays the contented man with a warmth that makes his happiness feel not naive but earned. Unnati Gala plays his daughter — successful, modern, perpetually updating — who cannot understand why her father refuses to want more. The Hindu’s theatre critic Vikram Phukan described the play as an ‘existential parable’ that is ‘not didactic in its approach.’ Shah himself said: ‘Even sadness is a tradition of happiness, which ultimately can be found within us.’

What's Up?

One Man, One Flight, Too Many Calls

Meet Chirag — a perfectly average man in his early thirties with a single, noble mission: catch a flight to Chicago and save his not-so-bright brother from being thrown behind bars for a minor misunderstanding. But before he can zip up his suitcase, his girlfriend drops a bombshell. His phone starts ringing like it owes someone money. On the other end: his sister’s in-laws, an elite task force of relentless, nitpicking, drama-fuelled wedding planners who believe that unless Chirag approves the saree border and the sambharo menu, the marriage might as well be cancelled. From that moment, Chirag’s day turns into a high-stakes obstacle course complete with passive-aggressive aunties, conspiracy theories on family WhatsApp groups, emotional blackmail disguised as wedding prep, and the looming threat of missing his flight. He’s stuck between love and loyalty, Google Maps and Google Calendar, chai breaks and breakdowns. Written by Uttam Gada and directed by Manoj Shah, What’s Up? is a riotous solo comedy performed by Chirag Vohra — the original lead of Master Phoolmani. It premiered at NCPA’s CentreStage Festival in November 2015 and perfectly captures the madness of trying to keep everyone happy when no one knows what they actually want.

Sikka Ni Triji Baaju

Sikkani Treeji Baju (The Third Side of the Coin) is a 110-minute thriller-comedy in Gujarati, written by Naushil Mehta and directed by Manoj Shah. Adapted from Chazz Palminteri's play Faithful, it is a sensuous thriller on the fragile themes of marriage, men, and money — with unexpected dollops of humour. Madhvi is the wife of multimillionaire diamond exporter Arvind Kothari. She lives in a secluded sea-facing bungalow in Mumbai. On a rainy day when she is home alone, Dhiru ‘Sixer’ — a top hit-man — manages to enter and overpower her. As Dhiru waits impatiently for his client's signal to kill her, Madhvi sits tied to a chair, realising she has only moments to save herself. Who wants Madhvi dead? Why? Is Madhvi able to find a way out of this predicament? Is Dhiru really the killer he claims to be? Is Arvind really Dhiru's client? The answers arrive with increasingly slippery footing, and the play slides between thriller and farce often in the same line. The third side of the coin, the one no one looks at, turns out to be the only side that matters.