It would be incorrect to say that Kopykats Productions’ latest theatrical offering Hua Kuchh Yoon is in the same league as their previous ventures. Most of its past plays were penned by Anwar Maqsood and dealt out a hilarious mix of wit and humour. They were political satires, loaded with the wordplay and situational comedy that is characteristic Maqsood. Hua Kuchh Yoon has been written by Sajid Hasan, who has hitherto been known for his acting rather than his writing prowess. Sajid does his job well and yet the play is in a different league from past productions (the laugh-out-loud moments are few and the satire is barely there). The two-hour long performance had its highs, but it also had its lows.

The poster for the play shows the flags of India and Pakistan scrunched up and tied together, thereby establishing the setting for a star-crossed love story between the two protagonists, Quratulain and Raja. Quratulain is against the partition of India and pro-Congress. Raja is a member of the Muslim League and a proponent of the partition. Their story traverses pre-Partition times to the present-day, with the two surviving the Jallianwala Bagh incident, getting adopted by different families and secretly loving each other but staying apart due to their political differences.

Time and again, the play declares: “Darya ulta chal sakta hai, paani mein deeya jal sakta hai, magar Pakistan aur India kabhi ek nahin ho saktay [A river can flow in the wrong direction, a lamp can stay lit in water, but Pakistan and India can never be one].” It’s a slogan that negates the possibility of a Pak-India alliance stated in a non-aggressive, matter-of-fact manner. The incidents within the play serve to highlight this.

The stage play Hua Kuchh Yoon lacks the wit that’s the hallmark of its director Dawar Mehmood’s earlier plays. The play’s length is another problem: it could have fared better had it been cut down by at least half an hour

There’s plenty that is interesting in Hua Kuchh Yoon. Sajid Hasan’s lines often have a riveting poetic rhythm. The journey of the protagonists touches upon major turning points in Pak-India history, with appearances made by Allama Iqbal, Maulana Shaukat Ali, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto and Indira Gandhi. The sets are hardly grandiose but they serve their purpose well, ricocheting through multiple locations. The stage turns dark every now and then with vague shadows running around, transforming the set from Quratulain’s home to an orphanage home, the Bombay Railway Station, the setting for a debate competition at Aligarh University, Hyde Park in London, Bhutto’s jail cell and Indira Gandhi’s headquarters, among others.

The repartee between the various characters also serves to highlight the contradictory views that prevailed before and after Partition. At one point, one character comments, “How can Jinnah lead a political party when he doesn’t know the language of the people that he is representing?” And at the time of Partition, an incensed Quratulain taunts Raja that he must be happy now that he has gotten his Pakistan. Raja grumpily retaliates, “Zyada jagah milni chaheeay thee [we should have gotten more space].”

The story, though, begins to lose its charm as it stretches on and on. Some scenes could have easily been eliminated and some much-needed chemistry could have been injected between the hero and heroine. The fact that they are in love is barely ever visible and it makes the plot vague at times.

Saad Farrukh Khan, as the young Raja, is exceptional and although Fareeha Raza is beautiful as the young Quratulain, she would have fared better had she not been overenthusiastically loud in her dialogue delivery. Saad Zameer as the older Raja is wooden and far less likeable, although Maria Saad as the older Quratulain still manages to do a decent job. As in the case of most of Dawar Mehmood’s plays, some of the ensemble cast delivers compelling performances, particularly Adil Bangash, enacting the jovial Khushwant Singh and Faraz Ali as the Indian police officer.

There is also a lack of wit within the dialogues. A few pointed quips here and there and the occasional well-conceived one-liner could have really helped the story along. Then again, perhaps it is unfair to expect the play to be laced with the satire that can only be mastered by the inimitable Anwar Maqsood. Sajid Hasan weaves his plot well and should the play have been cut down by half an hour, it would have fared better.

Published in Dawn, ICON, February 25th, 2018