The story of Salim and Mehrunissa is legendary. The daringly handsome Mughal prince hopelessly in love with the Persian beauty — only to be separated heartlessly and reunited later on. Stuff of legends.
So that’s why, when we heard that veteran theatre director Aamir Raza Husain’s latest play, Mehernama, focused on the story of the lovestruck duo, we decided there was no way we were missing it. Turns out, we needn’t have worried so much.
The play, staged at ITC Grand Chola over the weekend, had everything going for it — lovely script, lovelier sets and a brilliant cast. But somewhere along the way, things didn’t measure up and the whole exercise ended up looking like brilliant pieces of a mismatched puzzle.
Mehernama opened with Prince Salim getting his first look at the legendary Mehrunissa at the quarters of Bilqees Begum, Salim’s stepmother. He charms her into letting Mehrunissa, who was highly educated, teach him poetry. Along the way, the duo fall for each other — only for Mehrunissa to be married off to her first husband, Sher Afghan.
Years of waiting follow. While Mehrunissa bears only a girl, Ladli, for Sher Afghan and becomes lonelier by the day, Salim ascends the throne as Emperor Jahangir. The story should have reached its climax here, with the union of Jahangir and the now renamed Nur Jahan, but it drags on needlessly into the other legendary Mughal love story — that of Shah Jahan and Mumtaz.
The court intrigue, politics and the numerous wars served as an adequate backdrop to the two love stories, but the two-act play itself seemed like a compressed version of a history textbook — no emotion, flat dialogues and the inability of the audience to connect with the characters. The actors themselves seemed to be on fast forward, mouthing dialogues without stopping for breath. The sole exceptions to this were Aamir’s Mahabat Khan, Daleep Akoi’s Shah Jahan and Ikroop Dhillon’s Mumtaz.
The best scene in the play, perhaps, is the confrontation between Bilqees and Nur Jahan, when the former begs the latter to let Shah Jahan marry his love, Mumtaz. With some semblance of chemistry and antagonism between the two women, it was probably the only scene that got the audience to perk up.
The other star in the play was the set. Grandiose and very stately, it left one wondering whether it was actually made of ivory. The music was haunting, appropriately setting the tone for the scenes, but again, the dialogue didn’t seem to have enough emotion in them to complement the music.
It was an engaging evening, nevertheless. If only the play had been a little more engaging!