By Arif Waqãr

Farjad Nabi cover.jpg

Annhi Chunnhi di Tikki, Farjad Nabi. Pp: 246, Suchet Kitab Ghar 2011.

E: suchet2001@yahoo.com

Annhi Chunnhi di Tikki -Bread of Chaf- is a multilingual but predominantly Punjabi play written in the tradition of folk storytelling. The play is, in fact, a modern reworking of the legend of Kunal, the son of Ashoka the Great.

The myth has it that Kunal was blinded by his stepmother after which he roamed the land as a faqir. Interspersed with songs, riddles and juggats witty repartees, the play is a sharp comment on our times. The main language of the play is a mix of contemporary and classical Punjabi, which reflects the layered nature of its narrative.

The birthplace of this unusual work can be traced down to 49 Jail Road Lahore, the residence of Najm Hosain Syed. The inspiration is largely from a new understanding of what are generally called Punjabi Classical Texts. The reading and re-interpretation of these texts takes place through weekly discussions at Syed’s place. Syed is the most generous and loving teacher anyone can wish for, with a knack for explaining extremely abstract ideas with surprising ease. The Sangat, as it is generally known, is open to everyone and welcomes all views. It is here that Najm Sahib explains and interprets classics like Heer Waris Shah, Heer Damodar, Nadir Shah di Vaar and Saif-ul-Malook as narratives of the present times, thereby stripping the cloak of mystery and misplaced mysticism that surrounds them.

These weekly gatherings at his house are reminiscent of the pre radio-tv era, when such soirees and mehfils were a major source of education, entertainment and cultural grooming.

Farjad Nabi has been a regular and active participant of these weekly gatherings and feels that when the classical Punjabi texts are read in this ‘liberated’ atmosphere, one can instantly place history in the current context, and understand the current times as a continuity of history. At another level, an unleashing of creative energy takes place when one re-connects with a language and history, which has been forcibly relegated to some corner of their unconscious.

In the process of this soul searching, Nabi came across another amazing personality - Mian Kamal Din, a master storyteller in the oral tradition of Punjab.

“When I heard the legend of Kunal, in the fascinating voice of Kamal Din, I was wonder struck,” exclaims Farjad Nabi referring to the book Kamal Kahani researched by Saeed Bhutta. “The story on the surface is an evening’s entertainment complete with valour, romance, humour and songs. However, within its simplicity is woven another version of history; the version written by the likes of Mian Kamãl Din and his listeners. For example, when Kunal is sent to suppress a rebellion in Taxila, instead of behaving in the approved manner of Brave Men, he offers his own life in a duel so as to prevent a battle taking place — a battle which would cause thousands of innocent soldiers to perish. This is a conscious act of redefining what it is really to be a Brave Man and is part of the wisdom passed down in these stories”.

In Nabi’s play, the fundamental cast of characters is based on Kamal Din’s version of Kunal’s legend but he has added a host of other characters, such as the ‘Chuhitri’ (female sweeper), ‘Chaar Punj Peer’ (Four Wise Men) and ‘Rani Bubbly’. These characters embody a mix of the modern and the ancient. The legendary Five Wise Men of the Punjabi folklore change into their own caricatures and get involved in a slap-stick exchange with the main character. They are four in number but they are still referred to as “five”. The fifth one remains conspicuous by his absence throughout the play, and the mystery is solved only on the last page of the book.

After Najm Hosain Syed and Mian Kamãl Din, the third source of inspiration for the author of this play was Baba Mheeda, a bard par excellence who can sing entire epics on the strength of memory alone. “I’ve had the privilege”, says Farjad Nabi, “of spending a lot of time with him over the years, recording, documenting and conversing with him. This sounds like a serious ethnomusicology project whereas in fact every meeting with Baba Mheeda is a grand time.”

When Baba Mheeda is singing, say, Sassi Punnu, he can effortlessly glide into a comment on corruption in Pakistan without missing a beat, and then continue Sassi as if there is nothing unusual in what he just did. The audience too accepts this as the most natural thing which, indeed, it is. In fact, this ‘post-modern’ device has been very common in our epics: we have a complex understanding of time, space and relationships. Even a village puppeteer can manage to create a scene in which King Akbar is having a face-to-face conversation with, say, Chandragupta Maurya (born c. 340 BCE).

Time collapses in a similar way in Annhi Chunnhi so that we have prehistoric characters wistfully reciting Allama Iqbal and so on.

The title of the play, Annhi Chunnhi di Tikki, is taken from a kãfi of Bulleh Shah, and can be roughly translated as “a bread of leftover grains”. There are numerous references to such a roti in the Faqiri tradition, baked from the daan (‘selfless gift’) of various grains collected from door to door. Mind you, the term ‘Faqiri’ here is used as a conscious way of life, depending on one person’s daan to another, which is the Faqir’s answer to a system that encourages ‘to each their own’.

All our folk texts are in this sense such a roti. One finds a verse of Madho Lal in a kafi of Bulleh Shah or a metaphor from Guru Granth Sahib in Sassi Punnu or a visual from Hir Damodhar in Sachal Sarmast. Texts flow in and out of each other seamlessly without any consideration for time, religion, dialects or copyrights. Each ‘new’ author subsequently renews the meaning of such texts in accordance with his circumstances. In this way, texts remain alive and current instead of turning into museum pieces. The play under discussion is written in this very tradition, interweaving texts across time. This is a conscious effort to place these writings in a new context thereby changing the way they are read.

It also seems to be an effort to re-introduce and re-ignite interest in these writings to a new audience. Hence, a reader can consult a detailed glossary giving each direct or indirect reference to a text in the play.

The play takes its narrative device from the tradition of Bhands. It uses satire and parody to make a critique while keeping the audience aware that such a device is at play. Therefore, when the character of King Ashok says ‘takhlia’ he doesn’t know what it means and is corrected by his Vizier. Consequently it turns out that King Ashok is learning his royal manners from the movie Mughal-e-Azam.

At one place, there is a debate about Article 82 in Ashok’s constitution, and the amendments to it and this is where Nabi’s text touches the borders of pastiche and metafiction. The author himself is present in the play by the name of Soojhal; basically all the riddles and some poetry which takes the narrative forward are attributed to a poet called Soojhal who is the author himself.

Since this play is breaking too many moulds simultaneously, it may leave some readers puzzled but, when presented on the stage, it will certainly be an excellent show. •

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Farjad Nabi (b1969 Lahore) is a filmmaker and writer. His work includes the award winning Nusrat has Left the Building... But When ? on the metamorphosis of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan's music and Baba Mheeda - Rooh te But (The Spirit and The Body). He has also produced and presented a documentary series on the music of Sindh for BBC Urdu (radio and online) titled Aaj ka Beejal. Apart from Annhi Chunnhi di Tikki, he has written two plays for children in verse, Jeebho Jani di Kahani and Choohay di Vaar, which have been widely performed. Currently his first feature film Zinda Bhaag, co-written and co-directed with Meenu Gaur is under production.