By Michele Markarian
“A Brimful of Asha” – Written and performed by Ravi Jain and Asha Jain. Directed by Ravi Jain. A Why Not Theatre Production presented by ArtsEmerson, livestreamed through March 22.
It is obvious from the adoring and humorous way that Ravi Jain and his mother, Asha Jain, interact with each other that the “cultural dispute” they ask us to help them resolve at the beginning of this hour and twenty minute long play hasn’t broken their bond. As Asha describes their relationship, they are “Two sides of the same coin. Your happiness is my happiness, my happiness is yours…” Despite the sanguine sentiment, Ravi and Asha have two very different opinions about a very important topic: marriage. Specifically, Ravi’s marriage, one that has yet to spring into existence. For Ravi’s parents wish to arrange a marriage for him to any nice Indian woman with a compatible horoscope, compatible family (read: finances) and compatible religion. The fact that Ravi is not really on board doesn’t matter.
Asha is under tremendous social pressure to get her son married – it’s all people ask about. It’s bad enough that Ravi has chosen acting as his profession, which lowers his desirability as a mate in Indian culture. This does not prevent him from getting proposals from families based on his “biodata”, a report his father has compiled and submitted to a newspaper in India. Although Ravi is peeved, he’s somewhat agreeable to meeting one woman from the 150 whose families have responded. Asha can’t understand why her son isn’t more enthusiastic. Asha’s own marriage was arranged – she met her future husband and became engaged within a matter of days before they both eventually emigrated to Toronto. Asha, unlike her son, had no expectations of love at first sight. “Love is a process. It grows over time”, she explains to her son, as well as to the audience. This is something she makes such a strong case for that I begin to wonder if she’s right.
That is the strength and beauty of “A Brimful of Asha” – it’s hard to take a side, even when you might not agree with the tactics behind the struggle. The feel of the piece is light and loose with very little fourth wall; the players have an easy rapport with one another and as the subject matter is based on their own story, the material flows comfortably. Asha Jain, who is not an actor, is a delight to watch, only because she takes such obvious pleasure in being there. Her rapport with the audience is sincere, whether she’s telling a joke or making a point. Ravi Jain, more of the straight man, like the audience seems genuinely appreciative of his mother’s charm, even when it’s being used against him.
I found myself agreeing with both of them, which is odd, considering I resisted the pressure to marry into the Armenian community. Our cultures are similar, although unlike Asha and her husband, my parents refused to support any theatrical ambitions I had. Pressure to marry within the race was so strong that Armenian boys and girls rarely made friends with one another, lest the friendship be misconstrued. So I sympathized with Ravi, who was expected to go on a date with a woman he didn’t know and based on that one initial meeting, make up his mind to spend the rest of his life with her. Yet it worked for his mother, who was more pragmatic – love is duty, not desire. Marriage is an act of will, supported by a close knit system of friends and family. “Just get married. Get it over with,” urges Asha. But Ravi has already been given the freedom to choose his career; why would he sacrifice the freedom to choose a mate?
Their story culminates into a three and a half hour long, loud fight between Ravi, his father, and Asha. What happens next made this reviewer teary, as it is testimony to the great love story that is this family. One thing’s for sure, whatever choice Ravi makes, he is clearly the product of two people who love, trust and are willing to understand him very, very much. For more information, go to: https://artsemerson.org
