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Journalism of Courage
Earlier this month, at the LTG Auditorium in New Delhi, theatre, as we know it, was being reimagined. The National Micro Drama Festival by Vriksh The Theatre unfolded like a fast-moving carousel—30 plays across 10 categories, each lasting no more than 10 minutes. Scenes shifted, emotions flickered, and narratives unfolded in intense bursts before vanishing as quickly as they began.
Is this the future of Indian theatre, or is the art form being distilled into something too fleeting?
Traditional three-hour plays are increasingly sharing space with productions that wrap up in less time than it takes to cook a meal. This shift mirrors broader cultural trends—just as Kathakali performances that once spanned 60 hours now run for 15 minutes, and three-hour films have given way to short films.
“Life span has increased, attention span has reduced. We see this across fields—films, web series, music, sports, lectures, and podcasts,” observes Bhushan Korgaonkar, multilingual writer, theatre director, and founder of B Spot Productions.
Ajith G Manian, secretary of Vriksh The Theatre, a pioneer in the micro-drama movement, put it more bluntly: “Life is busier. People prefer bite-sized content, just like five to fifteen-second social media reels. Anything over a minute, and most lose interest.”
The origin story of India’s micro-drama festival is as concise and unexpected as the format itself. In fact, it began with a joke. Manian recalled his filmmaker friend, Prakash Vadikal, teasing him about struggling to fund a production: “Why do a big drama? Do a small one. Then, there’s no need for money.”
That casual remark sparked a national movement. The concept faced skepticism—”What happens in 10 minutes?” people asked. The late playwright Omchery NN Pillai, then 95, was among the few who saw its potential, calling it “an innovative idea.”
To silence critics, Vriksh The Theatre’s inaugural micro-drama festival in 2017 opened with a 32-second play, Chameleon. In it, a character watches the audience and declares, “Shameless people. He keeps changing. He says, this is the limit. Shameless people.” Then, he takes off his skin and runs.
From those humble beginnings, the festival has grown exponentially — from 48 scripts in the first year to over 100 in recent editions, attracting collaborations with prestigious institutions like the National School of Drama.
For theatre artists, the 10-minute format is both a challenge and an opportunity.
“The 10-minute format benefits both audiences and performers. While not entirely commercial, it has layers. We use shorter plays––10, 15 or 20 minutes––to make theatre more accessible,” said Apsara Iyengar, founder of Applause Vadodara, an age-no-bar, gender-no-bar, language-no-bar theatre initiative
Smita Bharti, theatre artist, director, playwright and executive director of Sakshi, a rights-based NGO, finds short plays both powerful and demanding: “Every word, movement, and silence must matter. The limited time forces clarity, making issues like power, control, and survival hit harder.”
Many artists find the format liberating than restrictive. “Short plays challenge norms, confront injustice, and amplify voices with urgency,” Bharti said. According to her, the brevity demands creativity in unexpected ways. “It pushes creativity––using nonlinear storytelling, symbolic staging, and direct audience engagement to break silences and spark conversations,” she said.
Can a 10-minute play deliver the emotional depth and immersive experience of a full-length production?
Purists argue that theatre relies on gradual storytelling and emotional build-up. But, short-format practitioners vehemently disagreed. “In 10 minutes, plays can deliver stronger messages than those running 1.5 hours. Whether five hours or 10 minutes, the essence remains,” Manian said.
“Some stories work best in five to ten minutes, others need longer to create a lasting impact. A longer format allows themes to sink in and audiences to empathise. A 10-minute piece, however, can hit harder by cutting straight to the point,” said Korgaonkar.
Perhaps the biggest advantage of micro-theatre is its ability to draw fresh audiences. “Ten-minute plays are attracting younger people juggling work, passion projects, and social lives. Its fast-paced and accessible format makes it an easy introduction for those unfamiliar with traditional theatre,” said Bharti.
For Iyengar, it is a gateway to deeper engagement. “With shorter plays, we offer variety—different stories, emotions, and experiences in one show,” she said, adding, “Audiences won’t step out just for a 10-minute play. But when we present a well-rounded hour-long show, they leave satisfied, having experienced multiple performances; different people, costumes, colours, emotions, and stories, all coming together to create something memorable.”
Shorter plays also bring practical benefits. “With smaller sets and casts of around five people, production becomes more manageable,” Iyengar said.
While enthusiasts champion the rise of 10-minute theatre, most see it not as a replacement for traditional forms but as a complementary evolution. “Short plays act as a bridge, bringing in new audiences who may later appreciate longer, layered performances,” Bharti said.
Iyengar, who works with both formats, agreed, and explained how the formats serve different purposes: “Short plays open doors for common people to participate. We’ve trained over 100 people and created around 60 plays, making theatre more inclusive. Our mission has been to create more audiences and create more theatre engagement and more involvement with theatre and creative work.”
Is the 10-minute theatre revolution here to stay? Manian is positive. “It will have a lasting impact. With four years of experience, people are embracing it––new scripts keep coming,” he said.
Korgaonkar, while embracing the format for certain projects, hoped for balance. “I hope it doesn’t overshadow long form plays because I think co-existence of both is ideal for growth and development of theatre,” he said.
Bharti framed the emergence of short-format theatre as part of theatre’s ongoing evolution: “Storytelling has always been about adaptation, about finding new ways to make people listen, feel, and act. In a world where attention is constantly pulled in different directions, how do we ensure the most urgent stories are heard?”
Perhaps the rise of 10-minute theatre isn’t simply about accommodating shorter attention spans but about reimagining theatrical possibilities. “Instead of merely expanding theatre’s reach, short plays are reshaping its very purpose, turning storytelling into an act of immediate, undeniable resistance,” Bharti said.
