Strength is in the story

Masum Reza
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I could never understand theatre. Never was I able to place the heart and soul of theatre in my own heart and soul. It's not that easy either to understand Bangla theatre, which is hundreds of years old. But in the last 23 years that I have been involved with theatre, I was exposed to the external side of it. Sometimes I was very moved, sometimes I was very upset. The pain I got from the love I had for theatre is nothing compared to the feeling of satisfaction, of joy. These days I sometimes try to find the meaning of my fondness for theatre. I ask myself why did I fall in love with theatre?
Eminent theatre critic Mofidul Haq wrote about the emergence and growth of theatre in Dhaka in an article published in 'Theatre of two Bengals'. He claimed the branch of art that achieved the most excellence after liberation was theatre. Not films, not literature. It was stage play ie theatre. In 1972, the seeds of post liberation theatre of Bangladesh were sown through an inter-hall drama competition of Dhaka University. One of the conditions to take part in that competition was that the script of the drama must be written by the group's own writer. That special condition changed the whole picture of the competition. In the bargain we discovered many talented script writers, directors and actors. Among them were Selim Al Deen, Al Mansur, Habibul Hasan, Nasiruddin Yusuf Bacchu, M Hamid, Raisul Islam Asad, Piyush Bandyopadhyay.

A sequence from Nityo Puran written by Masum Reza

This was just one side of the coin of theatre activities. On the other side there were many dedicated theatre workers who had been involved with the art in whatever ways possible for them from before the liberation. They paved a smooth road to Bangla stage play. Names we must mention here include Abduallh Al Mamun, Mamtazuddin Ahmed, Mamunur Rshid, Aly Zaker, Ferdousi Majumder. The base of group theatre was founded by these stalwarts after the liberation. Many groups were formed. Theatre, Aranyak, Nagorik, Natyachakra, Dhaka Theatre etc. There was a wave of productions on the stage of theatre movement. The most notable part of that time was the selfless dedication to theatre by the activists. They devoted their lives to theatre. The focal point of their lives was to discuss theatre and its many facets.
A good deal of time has since elapsed and taken away some of the charm of theatre with it. Or may be we couldn't keep it within our limits the way we began to love and cherish theatre in the beginning. Now theatre as an art is at stake. Gradually we ourselves became obstacles on its path.
Our theatre is now at the mercy of the playwrights. They are very busy these days. They have to write for television, for the NGOs, for advertisements. Many have taken these up as their profession. Writing a play, which at times does not pay any dividend, is like a burden for many in terms of survival. New talents are also scarce.
Our theatre is at the mercy of the actors. These days the date for a rehearsal has to be fixed a month ahead after confirming the schedules with the actors. Because of busy schedules for working in TV dramas, they do not act in stage plays anymore. Actually they can not. May be they feel bad about it, but can not manage to find time for the stage in their grueling timetable. Or may be they just feel bad about it. Though their name and fame can be attributed only to stage, they do not feel any responsibility towards it. Most of the freshers are also in search of fame.
Our theatre is at the mercy of the auditorium. There is only one auditorium for stage plays in Dhaka. There were two, but one has been closed for long for renovation. No one knows whether it would open again or not. The groups can not perform whenever they want to at Mahila Samiti. May be twice a month, sometimes once, or just once in two months.
And lastly theatre is at the mercy of the audience. According to Peter Brook, a lone audience is enough for a play. May be this is true in theatre parlance, but our reality is different. There are less theatre going audience than in the past. To bring back the audience, some groups in Dhaka resorted to comedies. Most of these plays were heavily dependent on Moliere or original comedy plays. This didn't last for long, because the trick did not work. Another facet that was included in these comedies -- terrible direction; not consistent with the story, theme, dialogues of the plays. Thanks to excellent direction, comedies became tragedies. During this sorry period, when I was going through an internal trauma because of my passion for theatre, I began to write a play -- 'Nityo Puran'. Basically I am not a director, but I decided to direct this play myself just for a small experiment -- to try to learn about the audience's expectations, to find out whether they are really not coming to or are we not being able to give them anything worthwhile. What is necessary is to bring back the audience to the theatre -- the technical finesse or the eternal strength of classical theatre.
There is no doubt that 'Nityo Puran' would have turned out very different had an experienced director taken over the mantle. But I wanted to prove the force of the play on to the stage. No jumping around, no loud acting, no flashy set or lights, I only wanted to tell the story as simply as possible. And that was my experiment. Only the audience can tell whether I have been successful in my endeavour. There have been 65 shows of the play in last four years, no signs of declining audience felt by the group Desh Natok as yet. And I learnt that the strength of theatre is deeply rooted in the strength of a story.

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Inquiry of an architect

Salauddin Ahmed
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It feels good to be a Bengali, especially at a time like this. Every direction I look at, I am reminded of a certain time of the year and a culture that I am a part of. I hear, it's a season of swinging mode, with elo melo chul and Tagor on the mind. Yes, I do agree with last few saying, especially when I see the vibrancy of color in people's wears, when I feel the coolness in the air before kal Boishakhi Jhor, the unexpected darkness in the day light because of it, the mouth watering Kacha Aam on every possible aam gach, the fresh leaf in almost every tree. They all tell me something of a change or something of a new is about to take place. So, I say, Pahela Baishakh, I welcome you. I welcome you even though at times it felt you would never come; I welcome you even though some of us will never know of your arrival, I welcome you even though we have failed to put together our modern shohor to experience you more.
With my grown up eyes, I try to see this season of Baishakh and through this season, I try to see my beloved city Dhaka. In modern Dhaka, I feel a sense of incompleteness of this wonderful change of the season. I feel years ago Dhaka had something that made me experience more of Baishakh and its beauty. Or perhaps all of it is a naive interpretation of my childhood memories. I do know there are all these events been organized to celebrate Pahela Baishakh. But a sense of oneness with this season in people's heart is not felt, at least not in mine. Does anyone agree with me on this line of thought or not? My hunch is, there would be more agreement than not. So, I question why is this certain sense of loss in me. Is it because of the cosmology of my known world has immensely changed or have I surely failed to understand the world I live in? Perhaps it is some of both and perhaps it is time to be a Buddha at heart. All in all, it is time to look into the world of in between and search for the answer.

Unplanned urbanisation of Dhaka

There is no doubt in anyone's mind that Dhaka has changed from what it used to be. With years of use and abuse, Dhaka has become a place of no sense, well, almost no sense. Within its fragile and ever so changing identity, Dhaka has given birth to some uncharted territory. As if it has become the Rajotto of Gangis Khan. Forget about the babies, here, no grownups are even dared to point out the most basic wrong doing that this city is experiencing. All of us are waiting for that first rain of miracle, which would wash away all that imperfections. I am sorry to rain on this call, it will never happen. No rain would wash up the dirt we are putting on. No history book will talk about our ignorance. Unless, we go beyond our symbolization of various events, we will not understand the beauty of being Bengali, beauty of being khati Shonar Manus.
So, where does one should focus to feel the spirit within. I believe the answer lies beyond our once a year panta bhat in the morning, shada sari with lal par for the day and painted mask on beautiful matir hari at Charu Kola. I am not saying no to any of these once a year, one-day celebrations. We believe in those events, even though they are short lived. We dream of their return because of the strength they have to define our astitva. We feel proud of being Bengali because they make us see ourselves.
What hurt for the most part though is our growing tendencies to make these events a cultural showpiece. All year long we submerge ourselves in criticizing on the subject of have or have not. We voice our unhappiness with the way things are without making any effort to change them. Our friendly conversation ends with steaming political debate. We no longer listen to what we say. Hey, the song, Amra shobai raja amader eai rajar rojotee, does not mean a rajotto with all rajas only. We have to take part in as a proja at times. We have to believe in more on the giving than gaining from this tired city. O, yes, we also have to stop romanticizing about the way Dhaka used to be. So, no more of these silly sayings; especially with past tenses.

“Wasn't Dhaka covered with beautiful old trees?"
"Wasn't Dhanmondi a nice place to live in?"
"Didn't Gulshan have the quietness of a graveyard?"
"Didn't we learn to swim in Dhanmondi lake?"
"Do you remember the big old krishno Churas on DU campus?"
"Did you see the Dholi Khal Bridge?”

Please no more of the past to address the present. Mere romanticism will not help us to understand the enormity of problem we are facing today. To understand the beauty of Pahela Baishkh, we have understand Joistho, Ashar, Srabon and the rest. We have to experience the whole of it and not just some of it. To understand all of these, we have to understand our city and the way we are putting it together. This is where we have to be careful. Careful in a sense that we cannot make a beginning if we don't have a ground to stand on or a ground to start from. One might be surprise to know that a city and its physical set up can help to see and experience a cultural and its festive events. No culture has done it in the past without allowing it cities to be the catalyst of its progress. So, there are no points of trying to prove it wrong for Dhaka either.
We have to allow Dhaka to offer us the moments of opportunities by giving its required open spaces, by giving it neighborhood the sense of decencies, by allowing it streets not for just cars but for its people as well, by letting its trees breath properly, by allowing its fish to swim freely and also by allowing its citizens to live equitably. We have to see the true color of our city before putting our desired color on it. We cannot just paint our Baishakhie mask, we have to allow one to breath wearing them as well.
Dhaka could be a wonderful place to live in, even today with all that we have done to it. But to achieve that, we have to do less in personal gain and do more for the community that we live in. We have to share our desire with one another instead of becoming a Zaminder on a two katha land in some model town up toward north. We have to tell our developer to give us a home and not just a mere box to live in. We have to let Dhaka inhabit us and not the other way around. I know it is much easier said than done but a Dhokhina verandha is the only place to experience the true nature of Kal Baishakhi or is it not?