Mark Twain, hailed as the father of American literature, once astutely remarked, “Truth is stranger than fiction.” Indeed, in our daily lives, we regularly encounter narratives that captivate our attention, proving the veracity of Twain’s insightful observation.

Earlier this month, Sheema Kermani, a distinguished person in the realms of theatre, classical dance and social activism, took centre stage at the Arts Council of Pakistan, Karachi, to convey some strange and tragic truths about the lives of five courageous and accomplished women in the arts.

As the founder of Tehrik-i-Niswan Cultural Action Group established in 1979, Kirmai has been a trailblazer in advocating for feminist political theatre and dance. Tehrik’s presentation, titled HerStories, added another chapter to its impactful body of work.

Spanning a century, this presentation illuminated the extraordinary lives of a few women with a focus on the performing arts, within the context of Pakistan. These notable individuals were Atiya Fyzee-Rahamin, Madam Azurie, Parween Qasim, Nilima Ghanshyam and Sara Shagufta.

HerStories commenced with narrators Sheema Kermani and Haris Khan addressing the historical oversight of women. The first presentation delved into the life of author, traveller, educationist, singer, musician and patron of the arts, Atiya Fyzee-Rahamin (1877-1967), embodied by the elegant actor and model Rubya Chaudhry.

Atiya was the daughter of Amir-un Nisa and Hasan Ali Feyz Hyder, a cloth and spice trader attached to the Ottoman cCourt. They belonged to the prominent Tyabji family of Sulaimani Bohras of Mumbai. After a few years, the family moved from Turkey to India for better business prospects.

Atiya was one of the first elite Indian Muslim women to receive a modern education. She wrote articles in Urdu journals for women. As a young woman, she revolted against the purdah and participated in mixed discussions, unveiled. In 1906, she received a scholarship to study in London, where she kept a diary that was serialised in a monthly journal.

The portrayed connection between Atiya and poet Iqbal, enacted by Mujtaba Xaidi, unfolded at a London party. Aware of Iqbal’s visit from Cambridge, Atiya, one of the first Muslim girls to study in England, found their conversation exhilarating. A sensation in academic circles, Iqbal admired Atiya’s intellect and scholarship. They bonded over their admiration for the great Persian poet Hafiz, and Iqbal introduced Atiya to another Persian poet, Baba Fughani who was not known in India. He invited her to Cambridge; they shared a day-long trip, fostering a lasting intellectual intimacy evidenced by their continued correspondence after leaving England.

The subsequent act introduced Maulana Shibli Naumani, portrayed by actor Vajdaan Shah. Shibli, a poet and intellectual with a traditional Islamic education in jurisprudence and Arabic and Persian literature, took a liking to Atiya. He guided her in Urdu writings, taught her Persian and shared his own poetry.

Atiya’s intellect garnered admiration from poets and artists, establishing her as a prominent writer. However, it was the letters exchanged with Allama Iqbal and Shibli Naumani that brought her notoriety in literary and social circles. At the same time, they solidified her status as one of the most fascinating and prominent women of her time.

Atiya embarked on a vibrant chapter of her life when she married the famous Indian artist, Samuel Rahamin, known as the Jew of Pune, who embraced Islam. They sparked a creative collaboration. She orchestrated music and choreography for his plays, Daughter of Ind and Invented Gods, staged in London in the 1930s.

A personal friend of the Quaid-i-Azam, Atiya was requested by him to migrate to Pakistan. She and her husband Fyzee Rahamin arrived in Karachi, where a portion of Burns Garden was gifted to them. There they built their residence, Awan-i-Riffat, and an art gallery, named the Fyzee Rahamin Art Gallery next to the Arts Council of Pakistan, Karachi, which did not exist then. In the 1950s, they were asked to vacate the premises, marking a challenging chapter of great hardship in their twilight years.

Next on the programme was Anjaleen Agrawalla, a young medical student, presenting a beautiful Bharatnatyam. She was representing the life of Madam Azurie (1907-1998), originally Anna Marie Gueizelor from Bangalore, who had a background of ballet and piano lessons, as her German-Jewish father Surgeon General Gueizelor wished her to learn that. Her mother was a Hindu Brahmin. However, captivated by Eastern dances from secret trips to the movies, she yearned to learn Indian classical dance.

Influenced by Atiya Fyzee-Rahamin in Mumbai, the teenage Anna embraced Indian classical dance, to become a Bharatnatyam dancer. It was the Turkish writer and political activist Khalida Adeeb Khanum, who bestowed upon her the name Azurie. Known as Madam Azurie, she made her mark in the Bombay film industry as a dancer in hundreds of films and contributed columns to various papers.

After marrying a Muslim naval officer, she migrated to Pakistan post-Partition and worked in Pakistani films. She established the first Academy of Classical Dance in Rawalpindi, taking a small troupe with her globally. She was a founder-member of the Pak-American Cultural Centre. Despite facing challenges during Gen Zia-ul Haq’s martial law, she continued to teach dance until her demise as a pauper in Karachi.

Tabita Simrin Bhatti brought the story of kathak dancer Parween Qasim (1945-1985) through a refreshing kathak performance. Parween was mentored by her father Muhammad Qasim. In the presentation, Muhammad Asif, portrayed as her father, joined Tabita in a concluding dance sequence.

Parween Qasim used to perform on stage and in films. After Zia-ul Haq disbanded Arts Councils and the National Performing Arts Groupand imposed a ban on women dancing on stage and television, Parween, like many others, faced a life of obscurity and despair. She departed from this world in anonymity.

HerStories then magically transported the audience to a bygone era, unveiling the tale of Nilima Ghanshyam (1935-2018) through Tehrik-i-Niswan’s archival video. The Manipuri dance performance, accompanied by a sweet Bengali melody, showcased the traditional art form’s graceful, gentle and lyrical movements.

Nilima Ghanshyam, the counterpart to her legendary husband, ventured to Pakistan in 1954. Invited by Prime Minister Huseyn Shaheed Suhrawardy, they established the Rhythmic Art Centre in Bahadurabad, Karachi. Mr Suharwardy, a fervent patron of the arts, knew the Ghanshyams from Calcutta and recognised the need for artists and art institutes in Pakistan.

In the nurturing environment of the Ghanshyams’ academy, Sheema, as a child, received training in various classical dance styles, including Bharatnatyam, Manipuri and Kathakali. The harmony was disrupted in 1983 when Zia introduced draconian laws targeting women and minorities. Threatening letters and stone pelting on their residence cum academy compelled the Ghanshyams to leave Pakistan.

The performances reached a poignant climax with the portrayal of Sara Shagufta (1954-1984), an audacious modernist poet, masterfully brought to life by Naina Black. Anwaar-ud Din and Imran Khan portrayed her second and third husbands, respectively.

Born into poverty, Sara endured a forced marriage at the age of 17 followed by three unsuccessful marriages. Deeply hurt by the death of her newborn son and her husband’s indifference, she channelled her anguish into poetry with a rare zeal. Suffering from mental illness, she was eventually institutionalised and tragically ended her life at the age of 29 by throwing herself in front of a train at Drigh Road station in Karachi.

In this moving reflection on the skewed narrative that has shaped our understanding of humanity, art, literature, music and evolution, Tehrik-i-Niswan resurfaced the remarkable stories of a few Pakistani women who, unjustly, had been relegated to the shadows of a patriarchal society.

Their exceptional contributions, once vibrant and impactful, had been deemed “invisible” and consigned to oblivion. The performance served as a powerful act of reclamation, pulling these narratives from the shadows and restoring their rightful place in history.

Rumana Husain is an author, illustrator and educator. She may be contacted at husain.rumana@gmail.com