India, Feb. 6 -- On January 24, when 81-year-old Jatinder Brar, the visionary founder of Punjab Naatshala, breathed his last, the silence was felt far beyond the wings of his celebrated stage. A mechanical engineer and a businessman, Brar was a man who refused to let retirement dampen his spirit. While his professional life was built on gears and balance sheets, his heart belonged to the greasepaint and the spotlight. In March 1998, he performed what many considered a commercial sacrifice, converting prime land opposite Khalsa College, Amritsar, into a sanctuary for the arts. What began as a modest open-air space soon evolved into a high-tech marvel, fuelled by Brar's engineering acumen and insights gathered from global theatre visits. The centrepiece, a revolving stage that shifted scenes with seamless precision, became the talk of the town, keeping the audience anchored to their seats. Within weeks of its opening, Naatshala became more than a venue; it became an avenue of entertainment and inspiration for not only those who wanted to watch the plays but also for those who dreamt of acting. It was a destiny-shaper for several talented actors, such as Bharti Singh, Chandan Prabhakar, and Rajiv Thakur. They first found their footing at Naatshala. For over a decade, the doors remained open without a ticket fee, ensuring that art was never a luxury. Brar wasn't just the architect; he was the soul of the scripts. His plays, including Kudesan, Payedan, Faasle, and Daughter of the Bin, managed a rare feat: They dissected social issues while functioning as laughter mills. Characters like Anita Devgan's feisty Sarpanch, Bharti Singh's comic wife role in Faasle, Sandy Chatha's haunting General Dyer in Saka Jallianwala Bagh remain etched in the city's collective memory. Brar didn't just stage plays; he commanded respect for the medium, forcing a city to take the craft seriously. His generosity extended to struggling troupes from small towns and even across the border from Pakistan. "He provided financial support so they wouldn't give up on their dreams," recalls his manager, Sunil Rana. Despite his stature, Brar exuded warmth and humility, addressing everyone with a gentle "ji". He was a stickler for punctuality, often irking late-arriving VIPs. To him, every ticket-holder was a chief guest, and the show, invariably, had to go on. He seemed to have rolled out the same care for his employees, be it the gatekeepers or ticket staffers, as they'd been with him since Naatshala's early days. Before his final rites, Brar's body was brought one last time to the Naatshala. The air was heavy, as if the very bricks were mourning their father. As the lights dim, the greatest tribute to his legacy will be ensuring that the revolving stage he built never stops turning....