Laughter is certainly the best medicine

‘Aisey Hi Chalta Hai’, a play staged at Napa, is reflective of our stance whereby human life, if it is that of the common man, takes second

place to ceremonial procedures

By far the most hilarious and yet a profound commentary on our attitudes towards the suffering where bureaucratic procedures and vanity take precedence over human life is so very aptly portrayed in “Aisey Hi Chalta Hai”, a play staged at the National Academy of Performing Arts (Napa) theatre on Wednesday night.

The play opens with a man who later turns out to be a poet trapped under a tree that has fallen right in front of the Governor’s House.

In agony and sighing, he calls out to a passer-by who is nonplussed and despite his best efforts cannot find a way out to help and rescue him. He stops another passer-by, a betel leaf addict, who can hardly speak, his mouth being full of betel leaf spittle and is of no help. The man then tries to summon government servants to the scene who keep delaying the rescue operation by “abiding” by bureaucratic procedures and file work while the man is sighing in agony.

A head clerk in a government department, Allahbachayo Chandio, who passes by holding on to a file, begins to jot down the victim’s particulars in the file and, when pressed by the person who
is  the first to arrive on the scene to help, refuses to do
so with the curt reply, “I am head clerk”, to evade responsibility.

In the meantime, the crew of a TV channel arrive on the scene and the girl reporter seems to be more concerned with how she looks on TV than with the dilemma of the suffering man, telling the cameraman to see to it that her adipose fat is not made visible in the TV shots and then sees to her make-up. Then another TV crew arrives and a male member of the crew makes passes at the girl reporter.

The head clerk rings up the horticulture department to inform them of the crisis, but they turn down the request that their job is to plant trees, not to chop them down.

Then he rings up the agriculture department, who also express inability. Finally, he rings the culture department, who ask him to make the victim fill in a form while he is buried under the tree and become a member of the department. Ultimately, during all these time-consuming rigmaroles, the man under the tree bids farewell to this mortal world.

Uzma Sabeen, with her highly astute direction, so profusely interspersed with superlative humour and witticisms, has brought to the fore a very profound theme which is a sad commentary on our system which is aimed at serving the elite rather than help the common man. It is also reflective of our stance whereby human life, if it is that of the common man, takes second place to ceremonial procedures.

However, the whole sad commentary is wrapped in the sharpest of humour and had the audience going into chuckles throughout the 40-minute duration of the play.

All the stars made their roles so powerful. In this context, special praise would go to Zarqa Naz as the lady TV reporter who adds real life to her role with her comic antics as also to Fraz Chottani as Allahbachyo Chandio who depicts the stereotype of a petty government servant and most adroitly assumes a typically Sindhi accent while speaking Urdu.