A play, Azmaan, was staged by Nandikar theatre group from Kolkata and was about alternate dialogues by two characters — a woman and a man — located in two distinctive light-zones. UK Banerjee speaks to the director, Sohini Sengupta
let us look at the worst-possible scenario of an especially-aggravated social situation and carry out an a fortiori analysis to assess what needs be done if it cannot get any worse. Start with luxury as the first ingredient and pour it in large table-spoonfuls into an over-size decanter. Add dollops of power to make it frothy. Mix liberal doses of alcohol and sex-acts — preferably at regular intervals — and stir them to a frenzied point. Sprinkle violence, both seen and unseen (just enough to draw blood). Finally, serve the concoction to an absolutely-bewildered band of spectators who don’t know what they are in for.
Azmaan,presented by Nandikar from Kolkata — at Sangeet Natak Akademi’s Natya Samagama: festival of contemporary theatre practices, traditions and diverse cultural expressions of India — was an open invitation to the audience to savour this heady drink. Penned by Poile Sengupta and directed adroitly by Sohini Sengupta, the play occurs as alternate dialogues by two characters — a woman and a man — located in two distinctive light-zones. All the happenings come through the narratives voiced by them.
It is seen that the woman had a satisfactory upbringing by a single aunt and given a subsidised education, though many characters visiting her during childhood remained a mystery to her. She never had an inkling that her aunt could have a shady profession. When her supports faded away, she began own subsistence by teaching children in an innovative, audio-visual way. When even that stopped, she taught the socially-deprived women in equally novel manners, but never ceasing to grow up as a fiery, fighting woman: prepared to combat to the very last.
It is also seen that the man was bred in wealth and reared in opulence. He had the shady benefits of lucre all his living time and drank his way to become a debauch and a womaniser. He was also lucky to be supported by hoodlums and trade-unions, and got smoothly arraigned to many shades of exploitation and cruelty. Totally unexpectedly, their paths cross at an explosive end, destroying life and hope.
Very imaginatively crafted, the play deserved much more ingenuity to enact and supportive music to lend resonance to the nuanced soliloquies.
Extracts from interaction with the playwright (in Bengaluru):
Was the idea taken from any foreign playIJ
Not at al. It was an entirely original theme, set squarely in the Indian body-politic. I named it Alifa, the feminine of Alif: the first character of the Urdu alphabet. I’m in love with ‘Alif’ since it alliterates so well with the English vowels, a-e-i-o-u, with which I play in the text.
The structure of the play is very unique…
Yes, it’s meant to be two individual soliloquies by the two protagonists. The audience is given no clue that their paths will ever cross. Indeed, the play demands a great deal of attention on the part of the audience and the latter’s total participation.
Is Azmaan, whom the woman is addressing, a real-life entity, or, is she addressing herself all the whileIJ
Not really. Azmaan is supposed to be the absent, flesh-and-blood person — the steadfast childhood friend of the woman — to whom she is emoting out.
nBut what’s the point in making Azmaan an Islamic person, considering the play is meant to be a searing commentary on the prevailing, malevolent society, but not really concerned with religionIJ
On the contrary, I meant Azmaan to be from a religion other than the woman’s own, so that their bonding — across different and disparate religions — could still be seen to hold good.
Extracts from interaction with the director:
Did you follow the original English scriptIJ
Absolutely. The English play was very faithfully translated into Bengali, keeping intact all the nuances of the original. Only the name was changed from Alisha to Azmaan, keeping in mind the Bengali vowel-sounds.
Did you feel like changing the dual Man-Woman approach, which is so unusual to sustain a playIJ
On the contrary, I found this novelty the most attractive feature of the play. I was immediately drawn to the idea and wanted to experiment with the play.
You didn’t use much music…
Music’s role is really minimal in a predominantly verbal text, which it is. I didn’t wish to create a parallel, non-verbal text.
This was your premiere. Do you plan any changes in the future productionsIJ
Not at all. Our only regret is that, since we were very involved with Nandikar’s theatre-festival, we didn’t get enough time to rehearse. In future, we hope to present a more confident production!