Vidyadhar Gokhale (1924-1996) was a warm chatty portly playwright-parliamentarian, never at a loss for witty word play. For media persons like me who covered his election from Mumbai North Central on a Shiv Sena ticket in 1989, he was a smiling unassertive vote-seeker who understood life's iniquities in Kurla's by-lanes. Unlike the extravagant rhetoric in his musical plays; his poll speeches were extraordinarily down-to-earth and large-hearted, often poking fun at himself. If Gokhale anna was alive to watch Natyasampada Kala Manch's recently-mounted Chi Sau Ka Rangabhoomi, in which six songs from his three plays have been cherry-picked, (alongside works of 12 playwrights) as the representational face of Marathi theatre, he would have chuckled over the basis of the projection.

For those who know the story of how he (as editor of Loksatta) invited a freelancer for tea (Kamlakar Nadkarni who had skillfully ripped apart Gokhale's play, Megh Malhar, years ago) and appointed him the paper's drama critic, so as to serve the larger cause of healthy theatre criticism, it is easier to imagine Gokhale's reaction to the attention devoted to his lyrics. Toppling his own natya pada Priticha (Prasiddhicha) Kalpataru Jo Mala Labhala (The bountiful tree of love, which is mine by good fortune), he would have inquired about the omitted milestone songs (the ones from the hugely popular Katyar Kaljat Ghusali whose central idea is supposed to have taken off from Gokhale's Mandarmala), which left their imprint on the theatregoers' collective consciousness. Being a believer in promoting fresh talent, he would have asked why Chi Sau Ka doesn't even mention an ongoing experimental musical like Devbabhabli, which brings saint Tukaram to life.