The hours I spent reading Wilde’s script were nothing short of good, sweet, comical

bliss. The light heartedness and zany zingers of the play kept me enthralled a good

deal, but perhaps what really aided my enjoyment was Badriya’s scribbling on the

side. She had made it very easy for me to visualise the play as her obstinate habits

shined through the various “adjustments” she had made; for starters, I knew she

would never wear a long cloak with a beaded bodice because it reminded her of a play

she absolutely detested, and her aversion to the colour brown, which she had written

on the sides of the descriptions – even though I did not get to spend a lot of time with

her I could tell only she would be daring enough to go against the playwright’s

instructions and foist her own modified directions on the characters, because whatever

moments we did spend together, I had gotten to know Badriya sufficiently well

enough to conclude her real life character in one word: opinionated! Perhaps that is

why we got along so famously.

There were a few pictures within the script from the performance that better aided

my illustrative imaginings of the production, and they were delightful. Everyone had

such cheerful faces, and it went to show how activities that brought everyone together

were always successful in not only uplifting their spirits but also in generating a bond

that fostered tolerance and appreciation.

It was definitely the lucidity of the play and its crazy storyline that sparked my own

profoundness of thought so deep in the night – it was comforting not having to be

weighed down by the pressing demands of reality and just escape for a little while.

The reason why I liked the play so much was because it talked about all our

discriminatory issues masquerading as an elaborate plot for marriage. Rich guy

Popplewellington or Poppy for short wants to marry the naïve, innocent, sweet and

rich though broke Ally, but he cannot because her family has a specific taste in men

they would like to wed their daughter off to. The man needs to be “second best” at

everything because the family fortune teller told them it would be bad luck for their

newly formed humble life if a haughty, golden boy hero type continues their lineage,

which proves to be a really big problem for the overachieving Poppy.

What follows next is a series of unfortunate events style courtship between Poppy

and Ally, because he just can’t seem to sell himself short for what he truly is, and the

fact that he is madly in love with the play’s leading lady only furthers his Homeric

trials to please and gain the approval of his prospective father in law.

It was hilarious watching, or in my case reading all about Poppy’s misadventures,

and Ally’s pure yet teasing persona only heightening his senses even more since it

was also certainly a breath of fresh albeit strange air observing the hero try to be a

number two, instead of a number one in winning the affections of his lady love.

Subversive Wilde at his best!

Of course the play had a happy ending – Poppy finally got to marry Ally, Ally’s

father finally agreed it was absurd of him to demand so little of a clearly talented son

in law when all that really matters at the end is happiness and Ally’s family’s

financial luck also finally turned around with the inclusion of the golden Poppy. But

despite the reign of the golden at the end, it was everyone’s respect and admiration for

second place that really counted, and the dedication, which was showed in trying to

be the best you one could be – by employment of strength and smarts, not pedigree

and social standing. However, if this was part of the package, it should never become

a societal justification for being the best in hollow circumstances.

Since humility was the main factor Wilde had advocated through his silver and

golden, second and first dynamic, I realised it was one of the main ingredients that left

the flavour of Silverns feeling imbalanced – like a savoury dish that contained every

component, from organic vegetables, meat, expensive cardamoms and aromatic

spices, to rich cream and ginger garlic paste, but lacked salt, which sent the entire

experience tumbling down. In the case of desserts too, the one magical ingredient that

lifts the piquancy, is salt.

How was Silverns going to get its salt? In the play there was an intense, though

equally comically intense scene where Poppy got to expose the father in law for his so

called second rate lifestyle as nothing short of a sham. Now, if only such exposures

were as easy and well timed as Poppy’s! Casually walking by an abandoned

warehouse on one of those ‘deep romantic ruminating’ strolls and seeing your

prospective relation win so effortlessly at a game of chess is definitely the best way to

learn the alarming truth of superior skills deceptively concealed as subordinate. In

other words, it was the perfect way to turn the tables.

If I could only find such a perfect moment with Mr. Kit… then maybe, just maybe,

the ordeal of the eliteratti would lessen, if only just a little…