Zia Mohyeddin column Indian Shakespeare II

But did Hashr craft a different kind of drama when he became his own impresario? Not really. Except for Rustam-o-Sohrab, the only play which does not have song and dance sequences, Hashr retained the dramatic pattern he had learned and developed under the Parsis.

There has only been one notable period in the history of our language when drama came to the fore. It began during the brief rein of Wajid Ali Shah just before the middle of the 19th century and it lasted until the end of the 1920's. The substantial dramatic output of these 75 years - over 4000 plays - could not have been possible if it weren't for the enterprising Parsi impresarios of Bombay.

These impresarios, who initially staged plays in Gujerati were a shrewd lot. They were quick to learn that melodrama (highly popular in England at the time) would be ideally suited to the temperament of our people. It was their astute sense of commerce that told them that Urdu, with its rhetorical flourish, and its vast repertoire of Masnavis, (which told tales of unrequited love) was the ideally suitable language for their theatrical venture. A number of Munshis (the term used for a dramatist) were commissioned to adapt not only the popular 'East Lynne' type of plays, but a few classical texts as well.

They also knew that what the audience wanted was a spectacle. They concentrated on creating eye-catching effects; the scenery was lavish and so were the costumes. In their productions gods could descend from the heavens and sink, through trap doors, into the abyss. If Herbert Beerbohm Tree could have ducks and drakes and floating barges in his theatre, so could they. The billboards announcing a new production specially emphasised that the company was equipped with "New Scenery".

It is uncanny that so much of commedia dell'arte crept into the makings of the Urdu theatre. The comic action, performed by stock characters, the witty exchange between the high-born, the young couple's love being thwarted by their parents or guardians, were all essential ingredients of commedia dell'arte. Even the most popular character of the Italian comedy of art, the braggart, who boasted of his bravery and his exploits on the battlefield, but ran away from the sign of any danger, became a part of our theatrical lore. The only difference was that they didn't wear masks as in commedia dell'arte.

In the very beginning of the Urdu Theatre, a play would just have an opening and a finale chorus, and these were chaste, classical melodies. When the idea of inserting arias in between dramatic scenes took root, the composers were compelled to come off their perch and turn out tunes, which, though based on classical ragas, had to have a popular appeal. Also, a song had to last no more that a few minutes, which did not allow them any time to dwell upon the Alap, the foundation of a raga.

Logistics, more than any thing else, forced them to come up with a four or five minute number which had to be not just appealing and racy but hummable. The Parsi impresarios knew their business. They knew that the secret of a successful production was to bring back the spectators to see the same show for a second or even a third time. My father was so captivated by the songs of Bilwa Manga, that he saw it no less than eight times.

From its inception, Urdu drama adopted the Sanskritic convention of including comic scenes no matter what the nature of the play. Soon there were comic numbers sung by the lower order. They were, usually, duets. "Aa ja piyari, vari, nayari, jaan hamari, shaan hamari, nain katari"…. sang the cocky servant to the saucy maid. The words had to be delivered sharply and crisply so the tune had to be devoid of any ornate musical embellishments. The melodic line was introduced in the riposte (always a rebuff) and then again in the refrain, which then became a duet or a chorus.

By the end of the 19th century, morals and conventions became more rigid than ever in the name of good taste. The Urdu playwrights (who indulged in gross bawdiness during the comic interludes) proudly proclaimed that their work was a moral treatise. They established a reputation for prudery which was destined to be, forever, associated with Urdu drama. Even the formidable Hashr fell prey to it.

Adultery or the desire for adultery was the main occupation of nearly all the secondary characters in the plays written over a fifty year period. "Advantage rarely came of it", but it gave the author a chance to moralise towards the end. I have recently gone through 48 plays written during the last two decades of the 19th century and have not come across one in which the plot is not constructed around the carnal designs of important and unimportant characters. Having given the audience dollops of licentiousness, in prose, the author condemned it severely, in poetry

The dramas of Raunaque, Habab, Zarif, Murad Abdullah, Ahsan, Betab, Talib, are all replete with monotonous magniloquence punctuated by lengthy songs and unrelated scenes of coarse comedy. Most of the Parsi actors, as well as some theatre managers, specialised in playing low comedy. We know for a fact that the impresario, Sohrabjee Ogra made Agha Hashr write for him the part of Khair Salla in Khubsoorat Bal' (the Beautiful witch) and Fazihta in Khwab-e-Hast (The Dream of Existence).

The Parsis have rendered invaluable services to drama, in particular, Urdu drama. The patient, persistent and courageous manner in which they went about initiating modern drama in Urdu is a feat for which we should be deeply indebted to them.

The playwrights of the era never transgressed the moral code of their society. True, they filled the stage with tarts and courtesans who ensnared men with their wiles, but that was because their audience wouldn't dream of watching a drama without these ingredients. The playgoers loved to feast their eyes on the beautifully coiffed and exquisitely dressed, brazen, flirtatious women (even though they were sometimes played by men) and their alluring dances.

Hashr too, followed the same pattern (Even his adaptations of Shakespeare's Measure For Measure and King Lear have a bevy of chorus girls prancing and preening in between the darker scenes), but compared to his predecessors and his contemporaries, his poetry was finer, his dialogue had a ring and sheen and it was less verbose. And at least in one play, Rustam Aur Saurab (more about it anon, if only because it was a monumental flop when it was first presented), he created a quality of heightened prose, which is unparalled in our drama. A convincing proof that he alone, amongst all the other dramatists of his age, could paint pictures as "sharply as the mid-day shadow upon marble".