“Is this a dream?” I ask myself. No. I am lying on a bed looking at the ceiling and it is not my house. I thought I had dreamt it – the magical evening of asparagus at Credi’s, Turandot’s voice sailing above the tenors and the sopranos that had surrounded us with their larger-than-life vocals, the suave conductor confidently creating ripples of music by the wave of his hand, ballet dancers creating a new
film noir vocabulary to show us Frank Zappa’s music and Jack Kerouac’s poem, the never-ending corridors of Mannheim Schloss, Mr.Wind opening the magical opera theatre doors to us and walking us in and out of the unending rooms reserved for make-up, costumes, lights, curtains, storage and more storage, savouring the spicy Indian meal that Aru cooked for us, meeting the Schnawwl team- realistically speaking, this had to be a dream. But it was not. This is a dream that Rangashankara and Schnawwl dreamt, a dream that Aru and Andrea dreamt, a dream that two cities dreamt, a dream that two countries dreamt. I am in the dream. I am still in the dream. We meet the Schnawwl team. Dedicated and hardworking Andrea, supercool Credi, gorgeous Evi, super-efficient Anne, soft-spoken Julia, gentle and caring Anne, quicksilver Coordt, mysterious and urban David, ever-smiling Simone, charming Nikolai, full of wonder Maike, strong and rebellious Jule, beautiful Angelika and the most un-German German I have met - Sophia. Ten days ago, my life was different. I didn’t know these people. Today, I am wondering how do I leave them and go away. I also have met Shrunga, Amba, Srini and Kirtana after I come here. Now they are friends for life. Journeys influence me. I change after each journey. I doubt if the journeys of the characters of our play are as magical as this one that has just begun. That remains to be seen. As for now, more of ‘Berlin 1961’, ‘Kill the Katz’, ‘Risiko’, ‘Echoa’, ‘Open Circle’ and many more. Set the sails, we are off to wonderland.
“Is this a dream?” I ask myself. No. I am lying on a bed looking at the ceiling and it is not my house. I thought I had dreamt it – the magical evening of asparagus at Credi’s, Turandot’s voice sailing above the tenors and the sopranos that had surrounded us with their larger-than-life vocals, the suave conductor confidently creating ripples of music by the wave of his hand, ballet dancers creating a new film noir vocabulary to show us Frank Zappa’s music and Jack Kerouac’s poem, the never-ending corridors of Mannheim Schloss, Mr.Wind opening the magical opera theatre doors to us and walking us in and out of the unending rooms reserved for make-up, costumes, lights, curtains, storage and more storage, savouring the spicy Indian meal that Aru cooked for us, meeting the Schnawwl team- realistically speaking, this had to be a dream. But it was not. This is a dream that Rangashankara and Schnawwl dreamt, a dream that Aru and Andrea dreamt, a dream that two cities dreamt, a dream that two countries dreamt. I am in the dream. I am still in the dream. We meet the Schnawwl team. Dedicated and hardworking Andrea, supercool Credi, gorgeous Evi, super-efficient Anne, soft-spoken Julia, gentle and caring Anne, quicksilver Coordt, mysterious and urban David, ever-smiling Simone, charming Nikolai, full of wonder Maike, strong and rebellious Jule, beautiful Angelika and the most un-German German I have met - Sophia. Ten days ago, my life was different. I didn’t know these people. Today, I am wondering how do I leave them and go away. I also have met Shrunga, Amba, Srini and Kirtana after I come here. Now they are friends for life. Journeys influence me. I change after each journey. I doubt if the journeys of the characters of our play are as magical as this one that has just begun. That remains to be seen. As for now, more of ‘Berlin 1961’, ‘Kill the Katz’, ‘Risiko’, ‘Echoa’, ‘Open Circle’ and many more. Set the sails, we are off to wonderland. 
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