I have become a fan of Jamaluddin Lutfullah. Never thought I would say this of a Pakistani diplomat. But then this diplomat is from a make-belief world of a play. The funny thing, though, is that I suspect that the play mirrors the reality of the situation very well. Who knows, there might be real-world Ramchandra Chinnappas and Jamaluddin Lutfullahs trying their very best to arrive at an agreement somewhere in a room in Geneva.
My beef with the British is not so much about their having ruled this country. We were stupid enough to let them rule us. Period. What I will never forgive them for is dividing this country into two before they left and creating a lifelong headache for us and instability for the whole region. Of course, there is no saying that Hindus and Muslims would have lived happily together forever in a united India, especially in this age of ISIS and other extremist organizations. But then that would have been an internal matter. They had no business dividing us. And again, we were stupid enough to fall for the 'Divide and Rule' strategy. But this whole partition has created a sort of a rainbow of emotions as far as the next-door neighbors are concerned. We hate them, they hate us, we mistrust them, they mistrust us. We gape at the cricketers who slap each other on the backs during the match breaks, count their counterparts in the 'enemy' country among their friends and yet, play as if their whole life depends on it, against each other, year after year. Sometimes in our life we meet ordinary Pakistanis, like I did in France, and wonder how can they be so much like us. They are not supposed to be nice people, isn't it? We read about efforts being made to bring together ordinary people from both sides of the border to clear up the misunderstanding and applaud the efforts, even hope that they will succeed. There is a news about some Pakistani or another being treated in India, his surprised reaction at being treated so nicely and their heartfelt thanks. Then there is a blast somewhere, or border infiltration in which 'our' Jawans are killed or there is an idiot who blows himself up to smithereens taking innocent lives with him. And we are back to zero. We hate them, they hate us, we mistrust them, they mistrust us. We wish an earthquake would swallow Pakistan whole. Maybe they wish the same for us. The clock has never stopped resetting itself since 1947. Will it ever?
That's the question that this play attempts to answer. So we have the two diplomats, Jamaluddin from the Pakistani side and Ramchandra from the Indian, slogging it out to reach an agreement in Geneva. There is a world of a difference in their approaches. Ramchandra is new on the scene though he is a skilled negotiator. He is very earnest, takes his work seriously and not interested in anything that could jeopardize the assignment that he is tasked with. In short, a very very tightly wound clock. Jamaluddin, on the other hand, has been at it since a few years. He has learnt to take things a bit casually, doesn't mind idle chitchat, even comes across as a bit cynical at times but its equally dedicated. So the two of them don't get along initially. In fact, Ramchandra hates the very thought of coming to the woods for walks when they have so much of work to do. Yet, they keep coming there. He hates to chat about anything that is not related to the proposal that he has helped shape up. Yet, they talk of this and that. They both know what they are up against. Ramchandra knows that Jamaluddin is known to change subjects and delay discussion on vital points. Jamaluddin knows that Ramchandra can say No where it matters. They both also know that the other side is bound to reject any proposal that can possibly be looked upon as the peace effort of its neighbor. When it comes to negotiation, neither side is willing to concede even an iota of an inch. And they both are aware of the huge trust deficit that we have run up since the partition. Yet they keep talking, doing their very best to reach an accord - till at one point it all seems pointless. And then we notice the elephant in the room - are the neighbors really interested in reaching an agreement? Can we ever become friends? Will this ever end any other way than the mushroom cloud? Does peace have a chance?
It's amazing to watch what a pair of seasoned actors can do with a set that consists of a few props with images of cut-down trees painted on them, an elevated platform serving as a walkway in a park, a bench and 2-3 stools shaped like tree stumps. The judicious use of sounds of people talking or laughing, a plane passing overhead and machines cutting down trees transports us to the Geneva park. Naseeruddin Shah comes across as a wily, shrewd and yet affable sort of a guy, who has seen-it-all. You suspect that in his heart he knows that nothing will come of this and yet he gives it his best shot. Rajit Kapur has portrayed the sincere, no-nonsense Ramchandra very well. The dialogues are crisp, witty at times and yet force you to think, to ponder, to wonder. And you cannot help but wish that they succeed.
The play ended on a very subtle note. So subtle in fact that even after the curtain call some of the spectators were wondering if the play was over :-)
My beef with the British is not so much about their having ruled this country. We were stupid enough to let them rule us. Period. What I will never forgive them for is dividing this country into two before they left and creating a lifelong headache for us and instability for the whole region. Of course, there is no saying that Hindus and Muslims would have lived happily together forever in a united India, especially in this age of ISIS and other extremist organizations. But then that would have been an internal matter. They had no business dividing us. And again, we were stupid enough to fall for the 'Divide and Rule' strategy. But this whole partition has created a sort of a rainbow of emotions as far as the next-door neighbors are concerned. We hate them, they hate us, we mistrust them, they mistrust us. We gape at the cricketers who slap each other on the backs during the match breaks, count their counterparts in the 'enemy' country among their friends and yet, play as if their whole life depends on it, against each other, year after year. Sometimes in our life we meet ordinary Pakistanis, like I did in France, and wonder how can they be so much like us. They are not supposed to be nice people, isn't it? We read about efforts being made to bring together ordinary people from both sides of the border to clear up the misunderstanding and applaud the efforts, even hope that they will succeed. There is a news about some Pakistani or another being treated in India, his surprised reaction at being treated so nicely and their heartfelt thanks. Then there is a blast somewhere, or border infiltration in which 'our' Jawans are killed or there is an idiot who blows himself up to smithereens taking innocent lives with him. And we are back to zero. We hate them, they hate us, we mistrust them, they mistrust us. We wish an earthquake would swallow Pakistan whole. Maybe they wish the same for us. The clock has never stopped resetting itself since 1947. Will it ever?
That's the question that this play attempts to answer. So we have the two diplomats, Jamaluddin from the Pakistani side and Ramchandra from the Indian, slogging it out to reach an agreement in Geneva. There is a world of a difference in their approaches. Ramchandra is new on the scene though he is a skilled negotiator. He is very earnest, takes his work seriously and not interested in anything that could jeopardize the assignment that he is tasked with. In short, a very very tightly wound clock. Jamaluddin, on the other hand, has been at it since a few years. He has learnt to take things a bit casually, doesn't mind idle chitchat, even comes across as a bit cynical at times but its equally dedicated. So the two of them don't get along initially. In fact, Ramchandra hates the very thought of coming to the woods for walks when they have so much of work to do. Yet, they keep coming there. He hates to chat about anything that is not related to the proposal that he has helped shape up. Yet, they talk of this and that. They both know what they are up against. Ramchandra knows that Jamaluddin is known to change subjects and delay discussion on vital points. Jamaluddin knows that Ramchandra can say No where it matters. They both also know that the other side is bound to reject any proposal that can possibly be looked upon as the peace effort of its neighbor. When it comes to negotiation, neither side is willing to concede even an iota of an inch. And they both are aware of the huge trust deficit that we have run up since the partition. Yet they keep talking, doing their very best to reach an accord - till at one point it all seems pointless. And then we notice the elephant in the room - are the neighbors really interested in reaching an agreement? Can we ever become friends? Will this ever end any other way than the mushroom cloud? Does peace have a chance?
It's amazing to watch what a pair of seasoned actors can do with a set that consists of a few props with images of cut-down trees painted on them, an elevated platform serving as a walkway in a park, a bench and 2-3 stools shaped like tree stumps. The judicious use of sounds of people talking or laughing, a plane passing overhead and machines cutting down trees transports us to the Geneva park. Naseeruddin Shah comes across as a wily, shrewd and yet affable sort of a guy, who has seen-it-all. You suspect that in his heart he knows that nothing will come of this and yet he gives it his best shot. Rajit Kapur has portrayed the sincere, no-nonsense Ramchandra very well. The dialogues are crisp, witty at times and yet force you to think, to ponder, to wonder. And you cannot help but wish that they succeed.
The play ended on a very subtle note. So subtle in fact that even after the curtain call some of the spectators were wondering if the play was over :-)
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