A black clad figure covered in a long, black cloth, is on centre stage, sitting – concealed, looking down, and all wrapped up. An image of confinement and secrecy is clearly delivered. The narrator reads in the background:
“It begins with a glimpse or a passing thought. It ends in obsession”
(court. Paulo Coelho)
“The Zahir, in Arabic, means visible, present, incapable of going un-noticed. It is someone or something which, once we have come into contact with them or it, gradually occupies our every thought, until we can think of nothing else. This can be considered either a state of holiness or of madness.”
(court. Faubourg Saint Pères)
The play continues as thus:
Different people enter the stage in different groups, chattering in groups among themselves, deeply indulged in conversation. (The conversations shall be mocked as the scene has to be kept silent for maximum concentration on body language.) They act oblivious towards the black-clad figure, hereafter referred to as “The Zahir”.
The groups settle at different locations on the stage. The conversations shall look very intense and deeply indulging – arguments – but shall not be voiced aloud until specified herein. The beauty of the play lies in its silence. Each group’s conversation shall be brought up one by one, all the while the others will silently “argue”. The conversations shall be ‘given sound’ one by one.
____________
These dialogues are not in the form of a designed script. The dialogues have yet to be created and balanced among actors. This draught only intends to deliver the outline of the intended idea. The conversations shall be somewhat as such:
First Group (holies):
“It is divine decree. The wish of the Lord Creator. Surely we must submit through all our deeds, acts, words and thoughts. Our lives must be according to the wishes and commandments of the true Lord. And of course, it shall never go unrewarded. If you fulfil your quest for His approval, you shall surely gain bliss. It’s a fair trade. Give-in this life for another better one.”
“Life too serious to be spent laughing.”
“Don’t even think of considering worldly, earthen pleasures. These last only as long as the acts that bring them. Pass these tests to gain the ultimate pleasure which shall be everlasting and would surely bring endless joy for all of eternity.”
“Otherwise, must bear the wrath and anger of the Almighty. Be afraid of what is to come ahead. Resent the decision to be made against your favour. Prepare for your eternal future.”
Second Group (“Gnostic” hedons):
“Ugh! It’s all a drama I tell you. It’s just not possible. We are the Masters. The Lords. We create and destroy our own world, all the time. Live your life well. Don’t waste it off on meaningless, fruitless hocus-pocus. Enjoy life while it lasts. Bring out the colours in you. It all depends on your perspective. There is nothing good or bad. It’s all in the way you see it. Have fun while you still can. Life is too short to be taken seriously. Learn to live in the present, dude. Besides, as they say, one who lives on hope, dies fasting. I hate bloody pessimists and those boring philosophers alike. Screw them all. ‘Tupid party poopers. Lay back and chill out.”
Third Group (thinking foolosophers):
“As I’ve always said, ‘Its better to rule in Hell than to serve in Heaven’. It’s a frickin setup I tell you. All of them are greedy dogs with their tongues hanging about one thing or another. Those stupid objectivists and materialists. They enjoy being animals. Talk about civilisation. They’ve turned everything into a matter of commercial trade. All too material. They want this one thing or another. This and that. Now or then. Here or there. They’re all the same. These see the stuff they’re running after. Those don’t. But they’re all running all right. Yeah it’s a material world, but humans and everything about here is a material object for them. You know I hate sin. But I love sinners. They don’t commit sins out of greed. They don’t run like blind dogs. They do it for the act itself. It’s purity of action, literally. If only everyone else stopped howling for bones and started thinking straight. At least we’ll never let any of them fool us into their capitalistic greed. Doesn’t matter whether they reward us here or there.”
____________
A new character enters the scene. A passive observer. A learner. A seer. A thinker. A neutralist looking for the truth of life. He looks around to adapt himself to his surroundings – an obvious reaction of a newcomer in a new scene with alien surroundings. He shall here forth be called “The True-Hearted Man (THM)”. He joins into the ‘silent’ arguments as observer and shudders out of them, unsatisfied, one by one. The Zahir by now stands erect amongst them, with arms stretched out open. All characters are oblivious towards The Zahir. All characters on stage are now mobile in a hustle-bustle. They pass by the Zahir and around him, as if he is invisible, or non-existent.
THM sits down, facing the Zahir, in a manner of thinking and contemplation, and goes over towards the Zahir, studying him closely. He finally speaks to the Zahir:
“Who are you? What are you? Why are you here? Why does no one here notice you? How can they not see you? You’re so obvious. You take up the entire space in the scene.”
THM goes back among the people, asking different groups and individuals:
“Why do you leave him like this?”
“Leave who?”
“Him!”
“Him?”
“Please tell me you can see him?”
“Ummm… see what?”
“How can you not see him?!”
“What on Earth are you talking about?”
THM looks clearly frustrated and flustered. A dilemma between what he sees and hears.
(One no longer needs to believe when one starts to see.)
He walks towards the end of stage, his appearance ragged (shirt torn, cuffs hanging, hair falling, unconcerned with how he looks). He falls on his knees, facing the audience, addressing them:
“Where am I?”
“Why am I here?”
“What is this?”
“Why is this all happening?”
“What am I doing here?”
“What am I… what… what… what AM I?”
“Who AM I?”
Disillusional madness taking over him. Lost in thought. A crazy man. The crowd of people exit the stage in semi-circles, like smoke floating away, to leave the stage clear. The Zahir and THM are now alone on stage. The Zahir’s hands stretched out sideways (a standing vitruvian).
THM stand up swiftly, collecting himself, then faces the Zahir with a swift turn and shouts at him:
“So it is you. I am here with you. I am here because of you. I am here because you are here. I am for you. I am to you. I am of you. ITS YOU!”
“Ha ha ha ha” (crazy laughter followed by sudden seriousness):
“You! Just You! Nothing but You! But YOU!
THM falls down in The Zahir’s feet, going into an obviously recognizable mystical trans. The Sufi practice of “pass tanaffas” recommended here for greater clarity and stronger impression.
He picks a black cloth lying behind the Zahir’s feet, wraps it over himself and kneels in front of the Zahir, arms stretched out, back towards the Zahir, in a state of mystical calm and with a knowing smile across his face.
The crowd of people re-enter, re-indulge in debate. Their debates, arguments and hustle bustle continue. It is clearly recognizable that they do not see the Zahir AND THM. They are both invisible. They go around them, converse with each other while the Zahir and THM are in between. Strong expression needs to convey that the absence of THM is unnoticed and that they are invisible, or non-existent and the arguments continue unaltered.
Narrator says in the background:
“The Zahir… someone or something which, once we have come into contact with them or it, gradually occupies our every thought, until we can think of nothing else. This can be considered either a state of holiness or of madness.”
THM says, calmly in a firm voice:
“It begins with a glimpse or a passing thought. It ends in obsession”
A ten second silent pause. All actors enter. Bow.
The End.
FIL MUHABBAT-ULLAH
By
J.D. (Rana Amaar Faaruq)
18th September 2005,
under the falaq,
Islamabad.
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