HYDERABAD: Ismat Chughtai, an illustrious figure in the realm of literature and a persona defying easy description, stands as a revered presence in Urdu literature. Her written works, delving into the domains of sexuality and gender, have garnered both acclaim and controversy. The city-based theatre group, Sutradhar, recently showcased two of her narratives as part of their production titled Ismat-Ek Aurat at Lamakaan.
Vinay Varma, the founder of Sutradhar and the director of the play, commenced by invoking an essay penned by Saadat Hasan Manto, a contemporary of Chughtai. Varma quoted Manto in Urdu, who had expressed surprise and dismay upon observing a hint of hesitation on Ismat’s face when he wished to discuss the climax of her own story Lihaaf with her: “To my astonishment, Ismat appeared just like any other conventional woman.” Manto subsequently recognised his misjudgment, admitting in a letter to his wife later that “Ismat is as much of a woman as you are. I desire for women to transcend confines and assume the stature of Ismat Chughtai. Yet, they ought to adorn bangles and grace their hands with henna, occasionally, embracing their womanhood.”
Drawing from these thoughts of Manto about Chughtai, Varma proceeded to introduce the two narratives, Saas and Chidi Ki Dukki, brought to life by the performances of Deepti Girotra and Ratika Sant Keswani respectively.
Deepti adeptly presented to the audience, glimpses of the characters ‘Saas’, ‘Bahu’, and ‘Azghar’, while also assuming the role of the narrator. Through her deft gestures, facial expressions, and modulation of voice, she transported the audience into the domestic tapestry, where a mother-in-law insults and uses derogatory language to refer to her daughter-in-law but also paradoxically cares for her. The son, a somewhat credulous persona, engages in a dualistic portrayal — playfully teasing his wife while also attempting to charm her, while outwardly feigning exasperation in front of his mother. As the narrative unfolds, the mother-in-law’s role transitions into one who protects her daughter-in-law, admonishing her son for resorting to disrespectful language, even if in jest.
Varma interpreted the role of the son as a peacemaker. His conscious or unconscious decision to overlook his wife’s bruises leads to his mother tending to her daughter-in-law, ultimately fostering a bond between them. This dynamic, to the audience, portrayed a sense of domestic, light-hearted banter.
Moving on to the subsequent story, Chidi Ki Dukki. It served as a reflection of society’s unrealistic beauty standards. Through the protagonist, Aalima, Chughtai highlights the stereotype that links women primarily to their physical appearance. However, Aalima becomes a direct contradiction to these societal norms. Stripped of the veneer and symbolism often associated with women’s physical beauty, Chughtai’s portrayal of Aalima is straightforward, unembellished, and unflattering. There are no frills to indulge in. On the other hand, Abdul Hai stands as an exceedingly handsome man, a heartthrob for every woman. Ratika adeptly maintained the chemistry between the two characters — teasing and playful banter were flawlessly executed.
Chughtai’s narratives came to life through skilful enactment. Their refined expertise was evident, possibly attributed to the masterful direction of Vinay Varma. The actors flawlessly undertook the challenging task of immersing the audience in diverse social settings — a household, a college campus, a marriage — each transition executed with seamless precision. This showcased their adept storytelling abilities, providing both an entertaining spectacle and an enlightening experience for the spectators. The utilisation of the stage space to seamlessly transition between different facets of the play was also executed with finesse.