
Anuradha Grover-Tejpal (left) and Shriyanshi Quanoonongo (right) in Omkarra | Photos provided by the company
Theatre Ya Knowww’s inaugural show, Omkarra, is a humble yet heartfelt production. Staged in the small amphitheatre behind the Gallanough Library in Vaughan, it is a South Asian re-imagining of Shakespeare Othello. It is quite a departure from that classic’s plot, though it does retain its themes of jealousy and deceit. The tragic finale is where the original comes most sharply into focus. The promotional materials also reference Omkara, a 2006 Bollywood adaptation of Othello, as a crucial influence.
I am very fond of Faizan Bokhari’s play, which tells its own earnest story. It is unabashedly a melodrama with a distinctly fable-like quality. The writing is striking and poetic, the conversations lyrical and genuinely compelling. It doesn’t have heroes, villains and supporting players so much as a community of flawed humans wrestling with their own foibles while they challenge cultural systems.
At the top, we are introduced to a fortune teller, Maya (Anuradha Grover-Tejpal). The skulls, a central motif here, seem linked specifically to her. She surrounds herself with them as if she’s in direct communion with eternal forces beyond human lifespan. Grover-Tejpal carries herself with gravitas, but she’s also very silly, her attitude towards people not so much condescending as sarcastic and mercenary. Her vision of a warrior groom sets the plot in motion.
Om (Shriyanshi Quanoonongo) frustrates her aristocratic mother, Raani (Shayagi Kirupakaran—who is also very funny), with her tom-boyish tendencies, debasing herself in sun-drenched fields, picking berries in the dirt, when she should be preparing herself for a royal marriage. Quanoonongo is, at first, all eye-rolls and smart-assery until she meets her suitor, the noble solider-turned-general, Yuvin (Yash Patel). Patel is intensely charismatic, radiating an endearing cockiness that matches Quanoonogo’s—two defiant personalities meeting their match.
When her intimate and playful dynamic with the endearing Dev (Ranjeet Badesh), a loyal servant and confidant, raises Yuvin’s hackles, he fires him. This prompts Dev’s wife, Ibha (Daniya Ahmed), to seek the fortune teller herself, to enact revenge and save their reputation. From there, a sudden war separates Yuvin from Om. Jealousies, deception and mistaken motivations lead to tragedy.
Director Ethan Persyko’s staging has minimal production value, focusing on the text and performances, yet the details are well considered and resonant. The costumes, in particular, define character and are striking and beautiful. A chest centre stage, which stores the few props and set dressings, is a self-aware focal point. The scenes are elegant and emotive, with the cast mining the text for its humour and insight.
Gandhaar Amin’s score adds effective ambiance and a distinctly South Asian flavour to the production. Choreographer Kimmy D’Souza also opens the show with some brief Bollywood dancing which helps ground the action of the play and frame it within its cultural context.
The lumbering scene transitions, however, are an issue. It seems all concerned want to maintain a certain solemnity by making the protracted, mundane exits part of each scene. Only when actors have fully removed themselves, do the crew adjust set dressings. There is no need to make scene endings so precious; tighten them up, get people off and on more efficiently. And it’s fine to have the crew in there right on the heels of a scene—or even the actors themselves adjust scenic elements—to keep the momentum up.
Though it is rough around the edges, the material and performances are genuinely compelling. I cared about all of these characters and found the ending suitably devastating.
On a practical note, it is good to know that there are no on-site bathroom facilities. Perhaps the Gallanough Library is accessible during matinees, but the closest option in the evening is the Tim Hortons (about a 7 to 10 minute walk away, depending on your mobility), so plan accordingly.

