The recently staged play Kaun Hai Yeh Gustakh focussed on Saadat Manto’s life and his stories after he moved to Pakistan post 1947. Utpal K Banerjee speaks to the director Madeeha Gauhar
Did Saadat Hasan Manto (1912-1955) — the ace chronicler of the fractured times when the two countries were reaping evil consequences of a British-imposed division — understand the political phenomena surrounding himIJ He left his beloved Bombay, and the world of celluloid, in 1949, and never ceased to pine for it, despite its horrific communal riots. His chosen place in Pakistan was lahore, where he was accosted by both progressive and rightist intellectuals as well as a fundamentalist establishment. He was denied a decent job, having been given a share in an ice factory whereas he had applied for a printing press. While his trenchant pen outpoured its oeuvre on the downcast and the downrodden of the society, his mind was increasingly losing hold on the political realities. Indeed, he was harassed by the press in Pakistan, and thrice hauled up in the law-courts of British India and thrice in Pakistan, although never convicted. Eventually, he became an alcoholic and was sent to the lahore Mental Hospital. Indeed, geo-politics forever eluded him and — as is commonly said — “remained a riddle, wrapped in mystery, inside an enigma.”
Kaun Hai Yeh Gustakh, recently presented by Ajoka Theatre from lahore — as part of Humsaya Festival from Pakistan, organised by Routes2Roots — focussed on Manto’s own life and his stories. At one level, the play proceeded with his departure from Bombay jetty, bidding adieu to his dearest friend Murali; his very mixed reception in lahore; his bonhomie as well as bruises in many an encounter; his court-room appearance where, among others, the great poet Faiz Ahmed Faiz came to defend him; his camaraderie among the asylum-inmates whom he found more sensitive than the outside ‘sane’ world; and his never-ending love-affair with the Bacchus.
At another level, the play directed by Madeeha Gauhar reflected a chiaroscuro of flitting women and their men: walking straight out of his famous fiction. There was, for instance, Thanda Gosht where the protagonist loses his valued potency in trying to copuate with a dead maiden. There was Khol Do where Sakina faces untold horrors in her sexual liaisons. There was license where the brave woman tonga-driver is opposed by all and sundry, and yet she carries on. There were Siah Hashlay, Dua and more. Finally, there was the memorable Toba Tek Singh who has lost recollection of all borders and lies down to die: next to a very real Manto befriending the mentally deranged.
All through, Manto’s language portrayed stark reality and provided his women characters a dignity they deserved. His scathing insight into human behaviour shone through, as well as his revelation of the macabre animalistic nature of an enraged people. It was obvious why he used to comment, “If you find my stories dirty, the society you are living in is dirty. With my stories, I only expose the truth…”
Extracts from inter-action with the director:
How did the title emergeIJ
The title of the play comes from the famous poet Maajeed Amjad’s powerful poetic tribute to Manto, titled Kaun Hai Yeh Gustakh. It captures the essence of Manto’s nature so well.
While the play is largely in the nature of a docu-drama, are some parts deliberately ficitionalisedIJ
The playwright Shahid Nadeem culled it entirely from the writings of Manto and there is nothing invented from imagination. Manto’s own words have been put in their dramatic context, that’s all.
Towards the play’s end, Manto soliloquises a large segment in own self-deprecation…
Even such words, as “I’m illiterate,” “I’m worthless,” “I’m an outcast,” “My fiction is all rubbish,” and self-condemnations to that effect, are all taken from his writings, especially form his letters to his uncle Shyam and to his actor-friend Murali.
You have mixed the realistic narrative with highly stylised images…
This is a ploy frequently used by theatre-directors. When narratives suffice in a documentary style, I’ve used direct communication and story-telling. But, where Manto is visited by characters from his masterpieces, such as, Thanda Gosht, Khol Do and Toba Tek Singh, I’ve used stylisation.
How about the persistent woman in the dark back-drop who interrogates him all the whileIJ
Yes, I’ve used the image of a shadowy female in the background to epitomise his myriad women characters and their unspoken anguish and angst. Manto said once that he felt like being a woman himself — to empathise so much with especially the wronged ones, the fallen ones.
Did you have trouble in staging the play in IndiaIJ
Three years back, when we brought the play for the NSD festival, we were told not to stage it under instructions from higher authorities. We were in a total soup. Overnight, our friends arranged two special shows: one in the small Akshara Theatre where we could hardly accommodate spectators; and the other at JNU where thousands turned up.