Marking 47 years of Prithvi Theatre, the annual Prithvi Festival returns from November 1 to 17, 2025, celebrating one of Mumbai’s most iconic cultural traditions. Continuing its legacy as a vibrant hub for creativity and collaboration, the festival once again brings together generations of artists and audiences to revel in the magic of live performance.
Among this year’s standout productions is A Fish Ate My Cat by Yuki Ellias and the Dur Se Brothers — a tender, surreal meditation on love, loss, and the fragile beauty of aging. Featuring an accomplished ensemble cast — Abhishek Saha, Yuki Ellias, Kunaal Sangtani, Mati Rajput, Kurian Joseph, Petra Misquitta, and Latoya Mistral Ferns-Advani — the play follows an elderly dreamer who chats with objects, revisits forbidden love, and reconnects with her son.
Layered with music, movement, and moments of quiet humour, Ellias crafts a world where grief turns lyrical and memory shimmers with both ache and laughter.
As Yuki and her team gear up for their final rehearsals before opening night, Indulge Express caught up with the actor-director for a quick backstage conversation about the making of A Fish Ate My Cat, and the emotions that shape its heart.
You’re in the thick of rehearsals right now — what’s the energy like in the room? What are you pushing your actors to explore emotionally through this piece?
We all relate deeply to this story — the feeling of loss, of watching family members in their most fragile moments, and the tenderness, love, and humour that come with age. In many ways, we’re reconnecting with our own families through the work, holding on to that sweet awareness that life is passing, and that even when logic fades, these moments of connection remain — full, warm, and alive.
It’s an ensemble piece filled with props, music, movement, and timing. Every rehearsal is a little adventure as we search for nuance and flow. We always end the night cooking and eating together, and when Kurian plays the piano after dinner, we all sing. It’s such a joy to be in a room full of singers, dancers, and wonderful actors.
The title A Fish Ate My Cat instantly grabs attention — it feels funny, strange, and layered. Tell me what it really stands for, and how it ties into the play’s ideas about identity and womanhood
A Fish Ate My Cat is an old woman’s muddle of grief and memory, told with a wink and a wobble. The loss of her husband is too hard to face, so the moment slips into the surreal. Objects, people, and feelings tangle up in unexpected ways, creating a strange, funny, and tender logic of their own.
You’ve always found that balance between humour and intensity in your work. How are you playing with that mix this time, especially since the play also touches on themes of memory, love, and freedom?
This is the first time I’ve worked with a theme that feels so immediate, so close to home. The intensity here lies not in conflict, but in the tenderness of love. There’s always humour woven through it — quietly, naturally. It’s a different raga of emotions from my other plays: gentle, moving, and full of little chuckles. I hope it wraps everyone in the audience in a feeling that’s warm and familiar — like a soft blanket around them.