By: Mike Mather

This performance of Guru of Chai – the first act in this year’s Hamilton Arts Festival – began with Jacob Rajan indulging in a veritable meet-and-greet with the audience who came to see him.

There’s many “hello”s and “welcome”s and witticisms from the affable Rajan as he works the crowd. Hands are shaken and some even leap up from their seats for a quick hug.

Fair enough. It’s not every day you can get to hug one of the elder statesmen of New Zealand theatre right before a performance.

It’s a charming and fun start to the show and, soon enough, Rajan segues into the performance proper – maintaining the jollity and mirth of the audience with some quirky, deadpan observations about the nature of existence and our place in it.

It’s all very disarming.

The central character of this tale – one of about six, all played by Rajan – is Kutisar, a chaiwallah (tea seller) who maintains a tea stand amid the hubbub of the Bangalore Central Railway Station.

Kutisar is a wry observer of the human condition, as well as a tea expert. He introduces us to various other characters who populate the station’s environs. Among them are seven sisters, abandoned by their father, but gifted with an amazing singing ability.

One of the sisters, Balna, catches the eye of Punchkin, the local police chief who maintains order (of sorts) at the station. There are other more sinister characters lurking around too, in the employ of the Fakir, a sort of Mafioso don who has his hooks into all aspects of Bangalore life.

Before long, the realisation dawns that a darker aspect to this tale than what was initially apparent is brewing. But it’s too late. We have been fully disarmed, and we are all aboard.

It’s a stroke of narrative genius and reflects the polished, accomplished writing of Rajan and director Justin Lewis, the core partnership behind the Indian Ink theatre company.

The inclusion of composer/musician/singer David Ward is another smart move, his adept playing and crooning lulling the audience into a sense of contentment, much in the manner of supping on a soothing cup of tea.

The venue may not have been completely ideal for a show such as this. Bars of bright sunlight shone through the pavilion’s blinds – an unwelcome illumination that at times broke the spell of what was happening on stage. But that’s a minor quibble.

To make use of a well-known tea cliche, do try it.