Garden Theatre’s rendition of Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape (adapted into Nepali as Eklabya ko Antim Tape), currently on at the Theatre Mall in the Capital, is an exasperating show. And it is also an irony: while the titular, solo character has been named after a character from the Mahabharata, he announces once during the show that the ‘God is dead’. Directed by Shankar Rijal, Beckett’s old Krapp has now grown up to be a 59 year-old Eklabya, but his demeanour is the same as that of the old Krapp: he is shabby, he has uneven patches of white hair, he staggers and he rambles.

The story takes place one dusk in Eklabya’s (played by Sudam CK) den, where cigarette butts and beer bottles are strewn all around, a cycle lies upside down in one corner, a book rack in another corner, boasting books aplenty.

Enter Eklabya: clothed in a checked pajama, a hunched figure, untended beard and patches of white hair. He plays his old tapes, sitting on his wheelchair by the table, over which the tape is placed, and seems to be recollecting his memories of bygone days, and is probably trying to examine his life from the vantage of his 59 year-old self.

Eklabya’s presence is exasperating to behold, and that’s what Beckett have probably thought how life is, now cashed in by the shrewd direction of Shankar Rijal.

Eklabya’s young voice, as we listen in to the tapes he plays, seethes with irony. The irony of the events he has witnesses: of the republic, of the democracy, and of modernity. The intermittent rhythm of a Nepali classical tune does gives the play a regional feel. The lights, however minimally used, do much to capture the essence of shifting themes. Rijal’s assessment of the life of an ageing Nepali man ridden with an existential angst is understandably exasperating to watch but it is also rewarding—to witness a dusk in the life of a dying animal.

Eklabya ko Antim Tape is currently on at the Theatre Mall in the Capital, everyday at 5:30 pm, and will run through August 16.