laila And Qais, presented by Natya Ballet Centre, was a contemporary fusion of dance and drama with elements of Chhau and Sufi, says Utpal K Banerjee
When love between two mortals transcends into man’s amour for the divine, sufism is born. Its genesis harks back to the Quran itself — ayat 152 from sura 2, Al-baqarah, to be precise — “You remember me and I will remember you”. Over centuries since, the number of Sufis has been legendary, with their numerous stories, songs and the dance of their dervishes. In India, women Mappila Pattu of Kerala, Manganiyars of Rajasthan, Zikr singers of Assam, singers of Sufiana kalaam from Kashmir, Baul singers of both Bengals and qawwals of Uttar Pradesh spread the Sufi message of love and humanity through their music. They are mostly non-conformist Muslims and their lyrics have the influence of non-Islamic local traditions: during their 1400-year-old interaction with the Hindu and other religious practices. Islam assimilated them within its fold, while continuing to retain its own distinctive character.
laila and Qais, among the most famous sufi love-legends, comes from the distant Persia and an antiquated 12th century, when it became a masterpiece penned by Nizami Ganjavi: transforming dramatically the folklore into vintage Persian literature. Nizami collected both secular and mystical sources about Qais: to portray a vivid picture of the famous lovers. Qais falls in love with laila in childhood and begins composing poems about his nascent flame: in a divine image. His unself-conscious efforts to woo the girl cause the locals to call him Majnu (madman).
When he asks for her hand in marriage, her father refuses, as it would be a scandal for laila to marry someone considered mentally unbalanced. laila is married to another man. On hearing of her wedlock, Qais flees the tribe-camp and begins wandering in the surrounding desert. His family eventually gives up hope for his return and leaves food for him in the wilderness. He could sometimes be seen reciting poetry to himself or writing in the sand with a stick on the divine laila:
I pass by these walls, the walls of laila
And I kiss this wall and that wall:
It’s not love of the houses that has taken my heart
But of the One who dwells in those houses…
laila becomes gravely ill and dies of heartbreak in not being able to see her erstwhile lover. On hearing this, Qais dies, too, in the wilderness: near laila’s grave. It is a tragic story of star-crossed lovers and undying love, echoing the later Romeo and Juliet: in the mould of Virgin love, because the lovers never married or consummated their love.
laila And Qais, presented recently by Natya Ballet Centre, was a powerful portraiture of the above legend. It was produced — under the baton of Anchal Panchal (who also superbly enacted Qais) — as “a contemporary dance performance with elements of Chhau and Sufi” and created magical effects under the lighting wizadry of RK Dhingra. The costume design was adequately Central Asian, as especially was Arab music under the gifted ex-Dehradun composer Virendra Dussy. Using qawwali, ghazal and nagma, and mixing skillfully recorded tracks with live music, he faltered only once, namely, in the Qais nagm: Teri Rahon Mein, Main Chaltaa Rehtaa Hun… crooned inexplicably as a filmy dhun.
Choreography was a high point of the dance-drama. Somehow, the maiden attempt of blending Mayurbhanj Chhau’s aerial gyrations of legs and lower limbs, with the subsequent Sufi’s trance-like circular dance — of hands raised heavenwards and lowered earthwards, with turning of palms — went off quite well. The six young male dancers — alternating as the enraged locals, laila’s family-guards and Qais’ desert-companions — were well-groomed in Chhau and gave a good account of themselves. Rashmi Gautam was an excellent laila, although appearing rather emaciated!
Points out a visibly-relaxed Rashmi at the end, “With my upbringing in Chhau for seven years, I had to emote alternately as laila: happy and gloomy, which was a pretty hard work. White is Qais’ favourite hue and I had to be both sad and glad with his gift of white garment. The marriage-scene’s ecstasy cascaded into death’s agony on the still floor: under the all-enveloping white!” Summarises Anil, “laila and Qais can be a long ballet: with its many points and counter-points. I had to
settle only for those episodes which could be easily visualised in dance. I had to keep in mind that Qais moves towards Qaba which remains his ultimate destination. Yet, eventually his Qaba turns out to be laila’s final resting place: Qais’ divine destiny…”