Pakistan Today

Remembering a true son of the soil

Ajoka Theatre’s most recent offering, ‘Mera Rang De Basanti Chola’ is a tribute to Bhagat Singh, the original young revolutionary firebrand and one of the city’s greatest sons, whose rallying cry, ‘Inquilaab Zindabad’, is still potent enough to cause goose bumps and stir something primal within. Also, in the current, highly charged socio-political climate with everyone rallying for inquilaab, Bhagat Singh is an apt reminder of what it really means to be a revolutionary and what a real revolution entails.
Written by Shahid Nadeem and directed by Madiha Gauhar, ‘Mera Rang De Basanti Chola’, in the vein of Ajoka’s earlier productions like ‘Dara’ and the sublime ‘Bulha’, is a lyrical, heartfelt and highly moving ode to one of the subcontinent’s most legendary figures. In typical Ajoka fashion, Nadeem’s script combines straight biography with little-known facts and figures from the fringes of history, with loaded allusions to the present socio-political climate, all within an impressionistic, highly-embellished framework of intriguing storytelling and succulent and live folk music.
Nadeem alludes to a little-known facet of Punjab’s history, about how the region’s (now) prominent and powerful families accumulated their wealth and influence, by betraying their own countrymen, who were fighting for the country and independence, to the British for material gains such as titles, land and property. Nadeem links this bit of history (through a single family) all the way from Bulha Shah to Bhagat Singh to Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, in a central conceit that however laudable in its novelty, still seems far-fetched, over-simplified, digressive and rather bizarre, falling flat when translated to narrative.
However, making the revered Baba Shah Jamal of Lahore a part of the Bhagat Singh lore is a rather brilliant stroke of inspiration on Nadeem’s part. The famous Shah Jamal Shrine is quite close to where the Lahore Central Jail was then, where Bhagat Singh was hanged along with his comrades, Sukhdev and Rajguru. This conceit is a touch of genius that lends a wholly Lahori flavor to the story, making Bhagat Singh our own as never before.
The play’s action alternates between 1974 and 1931. In 1974, a couple of policemen are investigating the drive-by murder in Lahore by unknown assailants of a prominent personality of Kasur, Nawab Muhammad Ahmed Khan. While paying their respects at Shah Jamal, they come across Baba Bhoga, an old resident of the shrine, who offers to unlock the murder mystery for them. Thus begins a back-and-forth in history, as Bhoga relates to the cops the story of his days as a young, untouchable sweeper in the Lahore Central Jail in the 1930’s and his friendship with Bhagat Singh. It’s an intriguing device and through Bhoga’s point of view, we come to know Bhagat Singh as a highly charismatic, larger-than-life and compassionate young man, who is steadfast in his ideals and fearless in the face of death.
Although not a straight-up biography, Nadeem and director Madiha tell us all we need to know about Bhagat the revolutionary. They are interested in getting Bhagat’s message across and that they accomplish quite admirably. Madiha opens the play to great effect, with certain inspired touches here and there throughout, but the direction overall tends to get rather repetitive and tedious, which is largely due to the copious amount of musical interludes. These famous folk ballads of the subcontinent, while very soul-stirring and effective, hinder the narrative where one wishes it would flow faster. The number of flashbacks between ‘31 and ’74 also bog the pace down. The story’s conclusion too was rather disappointing. Although the link between the ‘74 murder of Kasuri and the hanging of Bhagat Singh is quite potent (it was Kasuri who signed Bhagat’s black warrant), attributing his comeuppance to karma and divine intervention on Baba Shah Jamal’s part is frankly quite hokey and ridiculous, coming from a writer of Nadeem’s caliber.
Minor quibbles aside, the play succeeds triumphantly as a whole. The dialogue is terrific, with some great, rousing speeches and frequent humor sprinkled throughout. The tight third act ties everything together neatly and the climax is extremely powerful. The rendition of ‘Mera Rang De Basanti Chola’ (and the 1965 version from the Manoj Kumar classic Shaheed at that too!) causes goose bumps and a serious lump in the throat. While special plaudits are deserved of Bilal Mughal and Furqan Majeed, who play the old and young Bogha respectively, it is Nirvaan Nadeem who was born to play this role. He is superlative as Bhagat Singh. There are shades of Gurdaas Maan (as Bhagat Singh in the brilliant Shaheed Uddam Singh, 2000) in his performance, but that is by no means a bad thing. Not only is Nirvaan a dead ringer for Bhagat, he embodies the man’s charisma and fearlessness, romance and compassion, resolve and humanity so well with his alpha male swagger, puffed out chest and booming voice, he becomes Bhagat Singh. When Nirvaan screams ‘Inquilab Zindabad’, one feels an overwhelming urge to stand up and join his call.
Mera Rang De Basanti Chola shows us a piece of the magical mosaic that is Lahore, reintroducing us to its great son, through the prism of another one of its legends. When Bhagat Singh after his hanging, joins the dancing faqeers in his famous western garb at Shah Jamal and then performs the bhangra alone in the spotlight, it’s a sublime moment, one of rare transcendence that makes one’s eyes well and heart soar with pride and nostalgia, a sight for the ages.

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