S. Krishna Kumar, the group's anchor spoke for the group, ``We begin every year with a roster and four to five scripts in hand, chosen with the members in mind. At one time or the other every member gets to play a main part as well as work back stage. We also do a great deal of research, pooling of information and sharing of ideas.'' If there are funds, they indulge in sets, lights and costumes. But most of the time they keep the cost to the minimum.

Alan Bennet's delightful comedy, ``Kafka's Dick'' is one of the ``no-cost'' productions they staged at the British Council some months ago. The quadrangle swelled with crowds. The young team held the undivided attention of the audience and had them helplessly chuckling at Alan Bennet's literary ingenuity. The play was a runaway success.

The script looks at ``literary critics, readers and connoisseurs of the classics'' who set out, supposedly on a mission to present the author and his work to the people at large and invariably end up publicising details about his private and personal life. Before we read an author's work, we are eager to read about him, the scandals that colour him, the little details that he didn't want anyone to know about, things he is ashamed of and things he wants forgotten. It is voyeurism at its worst, denying a person his/her fundamental right to privacy and dignity.

In Franz Kafka, Alan Bennett found a representative victim. Kafka was a relatively unknown author during his lifetime with only a few of his works published and in very limited runs. He valued his privacy and the few friends he trusted. The bulk of his works was published posthumously by his friend Max Brod. Subsequently researchers have been worrying about why Kafka was a withdrawn man, about the kind of relationships between ``the thin, intellectual and awkward Franz and the robust, loud and corporal father.''

``Kafka's Dick'' is a fantasy of what would happen if Kafka turned up today from the land of the dead and what his reactions would be to the volume of his published works and his fame. Kafka (Shyam) and Max (Tarun Agarwal) turn up at the London home of Sidney (Krupasagar Sridharan) and his wife, the nurse (Reshma Nichani) who looks after his old father (S. Krishna Kumar) who is trying to pass the test to get into a home. Sidney is a Kafka fan who is writing the author's biography and busy drawing parallels between his own life and that of Kafka. Kafka and Max walk in. The situation turns hilarious. Kafka finds Sidney's wife intellectually stimulating and ravishingly attractive, and she is the only one who understands. Max and Sidney leap about hiding Kafka's books and identity. A senile father (S. Kishna Kumar) and an inexplicable tortoise under a hat, weave in and out of the confusion. Kafka's father (Karthik Srinivasan) joins the crowd. He bullies his son, invades his privacy and his secrets and threatens to make public his physical inadequacies - perhaps in bad taste as the title suggests. The great writer with a great mind cringes and shrivels into a sorry state of impotence.

The play handles the awkward issue very deftly. The language is a riot, extremely literary and challenges you at a sensible intellectual level. It requires good timing and a capable acting team to pull it off.

Early this week Masquerade came back to its audience with a repeat performance of ``Kafka's Dick'' (with the same cast and director S. Krishna Kumar) at the Rani Seethai Hall.

The team had re-worked on the opening scene. Instead of the earlier video clipping there was a spectacular exchange between Kafka and Max Brod just before Kafka's death, in a shaft of light beaming in from the side. Unfortunately the rest of the production failed to scale the euphoric heights the earlier one did. Things just did not click the same way. An almost empty auditorium (there were only sixty odd people) and the absence of audience response perhaps was the reason.

For a group like Masquerade the challenge becomes doubly difficult when they have to also maintain professional standards and also cater for the taste of the audience.

ELIZABETH ROY