Older artist’s mindful Marathi essay | vrudha Kalakarche manogat in english essay

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Older artist’s mindful Marathi essay | vrudha Kalakarche manogat in english essay

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Older artist’s mindful Marathi essay | vrudha Kalakarche manogat in english essay


Older artist’s mindful Marathi essay | vrudha Kalakarche manogat in english essay

Hello friends, today you are an old artist We will look at Marathi essays. Funny parents, hello! You saw me in different roles. I was accepted into that role. I was given a receipt of preference.

Still the applause of the audience Rolling in the ears. Rasikho, I was able to convey my art to you because you appreciated it. Thanks Rasikho! You loved me so much! So heartbreaking; You gave me so much! Truth be told, you made me an artist! Your love for every role on stage,

They came home looking for me! Each of me Remember the experiment. Every experiment used to be housefull. You are in front, that role in me would come alive. I used to applaud my sharp sentences. That applause, that applause, that was our strength.

The artist in me is childish day by day Began to become. It was this empowerment that boosted my confidence as I took on new roles. It used to take a lot of hard work to get a role. We used to train night after night.

To assimilate the nuances of the role Had to do a lot of observation, study. There were no different channels on television then. So it used to take time to get publicity. The plays of that time, the playwrights of that time used to be strong. It took time to absorb the dialogue he wrote.

The subject matter of the plays, however, was overwhelming. Drama experiments also reached hundreds. The audience was not wild. The audience also used to be knowledgeable. Next came the era of street plays. The whole face of the stage began to change. The world began to revolve around money.

Television series began. Small The attraction of the screen increased. The drama troupe changed. New organizations are created, no organization is long lasting. It was difficult to get such a job. There is neither income nor satisfaction by playing a secondary role.

A one-time creative, talented artist I; But in my life, moments of frustration and despair began to come many times. The Rangdevata, whom I had faithfully served, now began to turn his back. We started trying to pass on our experience to the new generation. But no one needs it anymore.

Who are we doing all this for? What are we doing for? Does anyone value your art? Is your innovation worth it? Who cares about the artist’s life? The faithful who give all their talents have to suffer poverty, neglect,

This is a tragedy. “In the end she became a mad.” The genius is deluded. His mood was baseless. It really seems like, what exactly are we living for? Do you really want to get what you want? Feeling we have ‘Run out of gas’ emotionally? I have been involved in such and such questions.

Funny! The theater for which I gave my all, Back to me with that theater .. rotate? How to endure Today I have nothing but memories of that time. The artist was never rich then. Nothing to do with the knot today. It’s just a bunch of experiences. But that is not the case.

To this day, this body is a worn out wound for the fans Sosuniya Mane Rizvili. I robbed the pleasure of acting, I wiped my eyes with immersion. The color of life has vanished. Yes, that’s my sad story. To whom shall I go? In the fun of youth, forgetfulness happens,

I will grow old in the future. Natyasansara There is no such thing as old age. Anyway, I just expect the newcomers to learn something from this statement of mine. “Friends, you can also comment on how you felt about this essay. Thanks