The "Suppressed Voices" part of the show, involved a sequence of performances with political messages.

The program started with a poet (Ijaz Syed) coming to the stage and reading Habib Jalib’s poem ’Dastoor.’ Two plain-clothed policemen promptly appeared and dragged him away. It was then that the audience realized they had already seen an act of suppression.

Next in line was a caricature of a PTV talk show-- panelists discussing the issue of national security. The show was compered by Ghulam-e-Mulk (Usman Qazi). The panelists include Mr. Cheema (Saqib Mausoof), Sain Abro (Ashok Malani), Mr. Mengal (Sonny Harris), Mr. Dehlvi (Hemukumar Joshi), and Bibi (Sukanya Mehra) representing women. Then there is a Minority Bhai (played by Azhar Shah) who joins in late because the TV station guards stopped him, and let him go only after a thorough checking.

’PTV Talk Show’ was a well-written short piece by Moazzam Sheikh. With undertows of language-tussle, regionalism, and dispute over water, the skit had multiple themes. The play also dwelled on how minorities in Pakistan are treated with contempt. At one point Cheema asks the Minority Bhai if he would like to have some water. Minority Bhai thanks Cheema for the offer and tries to get the water jug from him. On his attempt to try to touch the water jug the Minority Bhai gets reprimanded by Cheema; Minority Bhai is asked to instead put his hands out so that the water can be poured in them. How shamelessly familiar!

The talk show ends in a brawl and the Bibi, fed up with the farce, gets up and delivers a befitting sermon.

Sukanya Mehra was the shining star of the seven-member cast of this skit. Mehra is skilful in wholeheartedly and naturally becoming whatever character she performs.

This writer believes that in experimental productions like the ’PTV Talk Show’ the director should not burden the actors with characters deviate too much from the actor’s real self. Case in point: Mr. Cheema, played by Saqib Mausoof; Cheema is supposed to speak with a heavy Punjabi accent. At one point, in an argument with Mr. Dehlvi, Cheema started off speaking in Dehlvi’s accent--the actor quickly corrected himself, but it proved the type casting argument. And that’s why Ashok Malani did so well in the skit. Hailing from Hyderabad, Sind Malani was best suited to play Mr. Abro--the role came naturally to him. Though, it also helped that all of Malani’s dialogues were in Sindhi and the character didn’t have much interaction with any other panelist.

The ’PTV Talk Show’ was followed by kafis (short Sufi poems) sung by Amna Ali. Amna sang kafis written by Guru Nanak, Shah Hussain, and Bulleh Shah. Tabla music was provided by Bay Area’s foremost tabla-player, Ustad Surinder Mann (mannmusicacademy.org). Amna Ali is

a talented vocalist. The melody of her voice has the power to whisk you to the Punjab of oxcarts and small dusty villages.

Next presentation was a skit ’Gali gali mein’ written by Shikha Malaviya. In the skit, paintings in an Indian art gallery depicting juxtaposed religious symbols were vandalized by hoodlums and a TV crew is covering the story. Ashok Malani played the anchorman; Shikha Malaviya the reporter, Saqib Mausoof was Mr. Kumar; Sukanya Mehra was the dancer; Sonny Harris was the artist; and Usman Qazi, Hemukumar Joshi, and Azhar Shah were the bystanders. The issues at hand were what constitutes art and what hurts the religious sentiments of the general public.

While this skit was being performed, eight time zones away, in Birmingham, England, a very relevant real story was taking place. Production of a play "Behzati" was stopped under the threat of violence by Sikhs protesters. The protest was on parts of the play showing sexual acts in a Sikh temple.

’Gali gali mein’ did try to make itself credible by using a few props, but the reporter still held a phone headset to portray a microphone--not sure why she could not grab one of the many real microphones present there for the musical part of the evening.

The next item was songs by Tina Mann. The first one was the famous "hum dekhain gaay" originally sung by Iqbal Bano. Tina Mann has a beautiful voice and her father Surinder Mann should be rightfully proud of her. As the last song finished the stage area grew dark. Very shortly, Tina Mann came back to do a Kathak dance sequence. This two-minute dance presentation had a political message. As Tina begins dancing one devout Muslim (played by Saqib Mausoof) gets up and objects to the "fuhashee" (obscenity) projected by the dance. Another person (Sonny Harris) gets up and says that dance is an art form, but those who believe it is obscene and don’t want to see the "fuhashee" should close their eyes. The dance promptly resumes.

Tina’s dance was to be followed by video presentations but the computer that hosted the material refused to cooperate. While the technical problems were being resolved someone pointed out the presence of Jaysi Chander in the audience. Jaysi Chander is a master dancer who has taken her show ’Lamps on Lilypads’ to many cities. A doctor by profession Jaysi is now set on a healing mission through a new genre of art that she seems to have invented-it is dancing combined with powerful poetry. She reads an eclectic mix of inspirational poetry by various poets with themes of love and peace woven.

Knowing a little bit about Chander’s background one finds it heartwarming that a daughter of an immigrant, who must have felt the bitterness of leaving his ancestral land (Lahore) in 1947, could express her love for humanity in such a convincing way. Watching Jaysi dance and talk at the same time it is hard for you to decide if you should concentrate on her fluid body movements or on the profound thoughts she is articulating. Jaysi Chander is a dancing sage.

So, while the technical problems were being solved that night, the MC requested Jaysi to present a dance piece to provide an extempore filler. The audience was lucky that Jaysi graciously agreed.

By the time Jaysi finished dancing, the computer was fixed. The first video presentation was a Dalit song taken from Amar Kanwar’s film "A Night of Prophecy." The recording of the song is done in the humblest of all settings--a Dalit man, squatting on the floor is using a ’ghara’ (water container) to play tabla, reading a profound and powerful poem:

“You don’t let us enter your temples; you don’t let us enter your houses.

Our touch pollutes your glasses and cooking utensils. But we breathe the same air you do, and we bask in the same sunlight you bask in. Then why don’t you boycott the air and the sun too?

The presentation touched the heart of many in the audience because the

song had a strong spirit of defiance in it--a rage, a resolve of a

long-subjugated people who are waking up to say, ’no more.’ Attached

with the poetry was an ethereal romanticism of revolution-the desire

to overhaul the system, overnight.

The Dalit song was followed by a presentation called ’Suppressed Voices in Pakistan’; it delineated on the persecution of the Ahmadis in Pakistan. The presentation ended with the observation that religious freedom and fundamental human rights Muslims living in the West demand and expect from the governments they live under are denied to weaker religious groups wherever Muslims control governments.

The next item was a reading-cum-dramatization of Sa’adat Hasan Manto’s "Khol Do", the famous short story in which a man, Siraj Uddin, fleeing Amratsar (and ’expected’ atrocities of the Sikhs) is separated from his daughter. On finding himself in a refugee camp in Lahore he asks

a group of volunteers to help him find his beautiful daughter, Sakina. The Muslim volunteers promise to help Siraj Uddin. Eight volunteers make several trips to Amratsar and one day do find Sakina. For the next several days the volunteers repeatedly rape Sakina, and when she is almost lifeless leave her near the camp. Sakina is taken to a hospital; Siraj Uddin follows her. The hospital room where assaulted Sakina lays on a stretcher is dark. The on-duty doctor enters the room and asks Siraj Uddin to open the window to let the light in. He says "Khol Do." Sakina, tormented by days of rapes, in a trance of shock, however instinctively starts undoing her shalwar.

Along with "Toba Tek Singh", "Khol Do" is considered Manto’s masterpiece, and is definitely one of the most powerful short stories ever written in any language. Some material of the film ’Garam Hawa’ seems to be influenced by the in-your-face-myth-shattering veracity of "Khol Do."

Remember the Sikh character in that movie that describes the 1947 riots in these words?

“We knew how evil the Muslims were. So we gathered all our women and told them we needed to guard their honor. We killed all of them. Then we waited for the Muslim attackers...............But the Muslims never came.”

At the ’Suppressed Voices’ show FOSA’s dramatization of "Khol Do" failed to invoke the deep sense of betrayal, the pain and suffering, the helplessness, and the down-the-spine chill that a solo nighttime reading of this story produces. Neither Sakina (played by Shikha Malaviya) pretended to undo anything nor the last, pivotal line of the story was read by the reader (Ijaz Syed)--censored, suppressed? So, those among the audience who hadn’t read the short story beforehand were completely clueless about its end. Furthermore, in the absence of a raised stage it took a while for the back row audience to realize that someone-- Siraj Uddin (played by Moazzam Sheikh)--was down on the floor. Nevertheless there is a raw acting potential that needs to be exploited. With some ’bruise’ make-up and eyes turned frightfully desolate Moazzam Sheikh did transform himself into a fatigued Sirajuddin. Let’s hope Sheikh pursues an acting career. "Khol Do" concluded the first part of the ’Suppressed Voices’ show.

The main attraction of the second part, the musical part, was Sawaaz, a Bay Are band comprising of Noor Lodhi aka Shonu (guitarist, vocalist), Syed Amin (base guitarist), Maneshwar Judge (tabla player) and Asim Wali Khan (keyboard player and vocalist). Sawaaz beautifully sang a number of songs and ultimately fired up the audience with the qawwali ’Shahbaz Qalandar.’

The musical part ended with performance from two hobby vocalists: Hemu Joshi and Cookie. Hemu regularly sings at private parties and has an excellent voice. Cookie works for the Mehran Restaurant and that night had asked FOSA organizers for a chance to sing. Listening to him sing Kishor’s ’Meray mehboob qiyamat ho gee’ it was not hard to tell that he is very talented. Cookie will definitely appreciate more singing opportunities.

All in all the ’Suppressed Voices’ event made a memorable night-because of the variety of items presented and because of the controversy it generated. The program’s legacy lived for days as people hurt by one or the other presentation complained to the organizers. FOSA members deemed this controversy the proof of the success of the program. [Actually the controversy had started midway in the program when a harmonium player walked out, offended by a prop made for a skit. The prop had a religious symbol that he venerated, shown slashed.]

One thing that went to the total disadvantage of the program was the choice of the venue. A restaurant is definitely not an appropriate place for theater productions.

In case of the ’Suppressed Voices’ show the inconvenience of a flat space without a raised stage or slope, was exacerbated by a boisterous engagement party in the other hall of the restaurant. Amidst the loud music emanating from the other party the theater part of the program was almost incomprehensible to the back row. But the next door revelry was useful to at least one would be participant. A singer who did not get a chance to sing at FOSA’s event went over to the other party and sang there.

The ’Suppressed Voices’ show was produced by Ijaz Syed, a well-known Bay Area activist. In the field of directing Moazzam Sheikh was helped by fellow writer Shikha Malaviya (of monsoonmag.com). This writer had been to a few rehearsals of the show and was extremely wary of the laissez-faire style of directorship--actors were asked to improvise their own lines: looming chaos was dreaded. But the fears proved unfounded when the production turned out fine--maybe because the actors were given flexibility only within some constraints.

Credits

FOSA’s event was co-sponsored by Ekta, Dr. Khawaja Ashraf, Editor of Pakistan Weekly.com, and by Zain Jeewanjee, the famous insurer.

Other noteworthy credits:

Yasmeen Fatimah, the MC;

Ramkumar Sridharan, the stage manager and the technical director;

Shalini Gera, the lighting engineer--the nifty, concise program brochure was also made by her;

Mohammad Irfan, the sound engineer (of newageentertainment.com);

Riaz Khattak, program’s video-recorder.