theatre performance that turned out to be quite riveting, Ghazal-i-Raam had its grand debut at Ali Auditorium recently. Written and directed by Abbas Aziz Haideri, it’s a tale of love across centuries, unbound by time.

Call it an anecdote, if you like, set in the era of Bahadur Shah Zafar; its elements blending into the world of the 21^st-Century deuteragonist, weaving themes of romance, sorrow and comedy into an engrossing live act.

Within the dimly lit theatre, a pseudo mud-moulded well stood forebodingly, enshrouded in vines. The discordant appearance signified to the audience that this was no ordinary water well. Through melodramatic dialogues, the audience got to know about the well’s powers. It could grant one’s auspicious desire through the exchange of a singular gold coin.

Pitch-black curtains were drawn to symbolise the dark sky. A character appeared. He could be seen pacing around on stage, contemplating whether or not to make his wish as he dramatically fell to the ground. As lights went out and the music faded, a singular thud was all that was audible before the grand reveal of the play’s key figure, Raam, clad in tattered brown robes, holding a staff. It was hard to discern this from his ragged appearance — or as Raam from the 21^st Century puts it, “Malang wala huliya.”

The two Raams are not the same person. However, they are tied together by an interwoven narrative: a covet, to discover their Ghazal, a laal dupatta and jhumka wearing, poetry aficionado.

When Raam was warned by his counterpart from the past about the trials and tribulations that he would encounter in his quest for true love upon making his wish, there was a sense of foreboding that tragedy was on the horizon.

The scene transitioned to a bustling 19^th-Century marketplace, setting the stage for the beginning of the protagonist’s story. The audience were given glimpses of Raam’s background and personality: a sha’ir (poet) by profession, whose poetry was often overlooked at a mushaira (poesy symposium); a romantic idealist (evident when he fell in love with a woman simply because her name was Ghazal). Fortuitously, the personified missing piece of his soul harboured a similar fascination. The story of their romance was told through secretly exchanged letters; covert meetings in the middle of the night; and love poetry.

Soon, the situation became dire. It was revealed that Ghazal was the daughter of a mullah (a Muslim cleric) and Raam the son of a pundit (a Hindu priest). Raam wholeheartedly believed, despite their vast differences, that Ghazal and he belonged together. Ghazal shared the sentiment.

The two Raams are not the same person.However, they are tied together by an interwoven narrative: a covet, to discover their Ghazal, a laal dupatta- and jhumka-wearing poetry aficionado.

Upon returning to the city, Ghazal’s father learnt about the situation and labeled his daughter as a disgrace to the family. The protagonist was arrested, riots ensued and the two communities were at each other’s throats.

The most heart-breaking aspect of the play was betrayal on both sides. Jeet, the caretaker of mullah’s residence, manipulated Saleem, Raam’s brother in arms. Blinded by his unrequited love for Ghazal, he testified as a witness at the police station. Following a fast-paced sequence, an arrest was made, and Ghazal was married off to Saleem. Eventually, Raam escapes from the prison to save his beloved from the tyrannical hold of his former best friend. Blood was shed and the two lovers tried to elope only to fall into the clutches of the justice system. They were now destined for the death penalty.

In a seemingly ambiguous ending, the two escaped into the night, freeing themselves from the rigid steel chains. This arc would have been flawed if it weren’t for the handshake between the pundit and the mullah, subtly implying that the getaway had been planned.

Certain quips and characters provided effective comic relief. The exaggerated lines by the street ghazal singer, Jeet’s histrionic expressions and Saleem’s antics with his ragtag group of poets elevated the storytelling.

In the final act, the story of Ghazal-i-Raam moved towards a crescendo. The fate of the 19^th-Century paramours was revealed. As anticipated, Ghazal and Raam survived, but they were banished from their hometown, cast aside by those close to them.

The finale was sorrowful, but a silver lining shone through, only the lovers could win.

Haideri concluded with a few remarks. He lamented that theatre had declined in Pakistan in recent years. While he recognised the profound impact of the digital age on popular preferences, he also expressed his resolve to keep making efforts to revive the theatre.

Meeral Mansoor is a student based in Lahore