A Story about Penguins.

Freakishly long post! Be warned!

Two penguins started off with the dream of a college play. In the beginning, they did the running around, the frustration, the doubt.I don’t think anyone has any idea of the amount work they did. I only wish I had been there to stick by them through it.

I came into the picture a bit later, and after me, another annoyingly enthusiastic penguin. I should mention, that it is this other penguin’s annoying enthusiasm that has carried us through the entire process. We developed a strange strain of humour, this penguin and I, and learnt much along the way. Despite the fact that we were constantly frustrated by numerous budget cuts, that we had ideas that we did not have resources to execute, that we felt other people were screwing up their jobs, that we didn’t have a jot of an idea of what we were doing and so spent a lot of time running around in useless circles, we had fun along the way. And funky orange paper. And lists. And tag lines. Among the many strange and wonderful things that we did, we called up random people from yellow pages, picked up tech terms so that we could at least pretend to know what we were doing, drew HUGE graphs and generally became very sleep deprived.

All four penguins were doing far more than they had too. One penguin was randomly stamping tickets through the middle of the night, answering frantic phone calls (and was particularly disgruntled at having to do it at seven in the morning) and driving around town throwing pamphlets into any shop that would have them. This penguin is also currently going beserk with accounts. One penguin was running from office to office, getting approval for the most bizarre of things. That penguin was also running from pillar to post trying to raise more money. One penguin learnt graphic design over night. Another penguin pulled an all nighter trying to rectify the previous penguin’s mistakes. All the penguins spammed the world’s mailboxes and inboxes. Other people were pitching in as well, cast, crew, people who weren’t mentioned anywhere, a lot of their work went unrecognized. To them, I am intensely grateful (G!) The cast (which contained some of the most talented people I know), crew (who were a freakishly dedicated bunch, bless ‘em) and the penguins were all over worked. During bus rides from printers-to college-to printers-to college-to printers, I would wonder whether if the play was really worth the energy and time we were putting into it. The only thing that made the whole thing worthwhile, was the people. I don’t usually laugh for no reason. I was doing it every day while working for BaBaOH. And now, I really, really, miss that. D and B are perhaps the best people I have ever worked with.

And then… it was Friday. And magic happened. The freakishly-hot-ridiculously-non acoustic-overgrown-classroom miraculously turned into a… auditorium. The lights came on, and there was magic. The lists became surprisingly short. The penguins and I looked at each other in astonishment. We congratulated ourselves on our efficiency. Frankly, we had never thought the day would come. We went home, exhausted, but we could not sleep.

The first show was horrifying for the two penguins who were not on stage. The sound was terribly off, and disgruntled VPs and members of the audience would shoot dark looks at us as they passed us on their way out of the doors. A few came over, and gave us a very clear opinion of what they thought. The play ran late, we had put too many chairs, the room was freakishly hot.

For the second show, I decided to chuck it all, and sat at the lighting desk, my back turned to the retarded philistines who may want to walk out. The other penguin was right at the back, by the sound desk. That show made it worth it. It settled every single doubt in my mind. The stories flowed past, the lights danced on stage. I was happy. I was a part of this big, mad adventure, and I had seen it through. It existed because I was part of it, it had been changed by me, and I by it. There were no words. I was just inexplicably happy.

Today, I walked into F21 to find it sparkling clean. H had sucked the remains of the play out the room. The place was its brightly lit ugly self again. The magic was gone. It was empty. I did not feel the relief I had imagined, that I would get from actually having time to do the things I wanted. I felt lost, disoriented. Despite the work overload, the stress, the bitching, the convoluted hierarchies and processes, I miss it all.

I never quite knew it while it was happening, but BaBaOH was perhaps one of the best experiences of my life.

The penguin with the wacky ideas.