The Arts Council of Pakistan Karachi organised a graceful event titled “An Evening of Classical Dance” at Auditorium I to mark International Dance Day. Renowned dancer Sheema Kermani and Head of Dance Academy Mani Chao addressed the audience, while Romana Hussain moderated the event.

The evening began with a Manipuri dance performance, followed by a colourful showcase of various classical dance forms. Sheema Kermani, accompanied by her students, delivered captivating performances celebrating the beauty, heritage, and artistic depth of classical dance. She also expressed solidarity with Palestine by performing while wearing a traditional Palestinian scarf.

A large number of artists, students, teachers, and art enthusiasts attended the programme. Speaking on the occasion, Sheema Kermani said that International Dance Day was a tribute to all those striving for humanity, peace, and justice, while also thanking the audience for their support.

Mani Chao said that despite difficult circumstances, the dance community continues to spread joy and positivity through dedication and artistic expression. He added that the continued support of Arts Council President Mohammad Ahmed Shah has played an important role in promoting fine arts and providing opportunities for artists, particularly dancers.

The audience warmly applauded the performances of Sheema Kermani, Muhammad Asif, Dawood Bhatti, Taimoor, Yasir, Muhammad Alam, Javeria, Neena, KP, and Irma.

The post Classical Dance Evening Held in Arts Council of Pakistan Karachi to Celebrate International Dance Day appeared first on Glam Magazine.

In our society, a divorced woman is often treated as an outcast. The prevailing belief is that the fault in a failed marriage lies mostly with the woman, and this perception subjects her to relentless societal scrutiny. Her personal life, prospects of remarriage, and even her daily routines are scrutinized under a harsh public gaze.

It is against this backdrop of societal pressure, personal loss, and heartbreak that drama “Muamma” begins its gripping narrative. Spanning 30 episodes, this series is directed by Saqlain Khan, written by Imran Nazir, and produced by Momina Duraid. The drama features a stellar cast, including Saba Qamar, Usman Mukhtar, Nimra Shahid, Syed Jibran and Maria Wasti, Muamma airs on HUM TV every Wednesday and Thursday at 8 PM, offering viewers a rich blend of suspense, emotional depth, and social commentary.

The story revolves around the enigmatic character of Jahan Ara. Surrounded by rumours and whispered speculations. The narrative is a kaleidoscope of human emotions, betrayal, survival, and redemption, providing viewers with an intense and immersive experience.

Jahan Ara is portrayed as an intelligent, shrewd, and cunning woman. Outwardly, she may appear innocent and empathetic, but beneath the surface lies a mind that strategizes with precision.

However, Jahan Ara’s life is far from easy. She navigates a world dominated by patriarchal norms and male authority, encountering challenges at every turn. Her father’s bias, her brother’s cruelty, and the betrayal of men around her have been recurring themes in her life. Her first marriage ends abruptly, with powerful feudal lord Sarmad orchestrating events to force her into a toxic union with him. This marriage becomes a nightmare filled with abuse, humiliation, and relentless cruelty. Yet, in these dark moments, Jahan Ara’s courage, patience, and intelligence begin to shine.

Through a twist of fate, Jahan Ara eventually exacts justice on Sarmad for his misdeeds. Seven years later, she returns as a strong, influential, and fearless woman, determined to confront life on her own terms. Her mission becomes exposing the betrayals and deceit of men and overcoming any obstacles that come her way. She is now the proud owner of a beautiful house, which she rents exclusively to newlywed couples. But beneath the surface, she quietly observes their relationships, looking for cracks and tensions a subtle yet powerful metaphor for her quest for justice and understanding human frailties.

Life, however, presents yet another challenge in the form of Shah Jahan, one of her tenants. The dynamics between Jahan Ara and Shah Jahan form a pivotal part of the drama. Their relationship, evolving amid tension, attraction, and mutual discovery, has the potential to transform Jahan Ara’s life in ways even she cannot predict. Each episode reveals new layers of intrigue, suspense, and emotional intensity, keeping viewers on the edge of their seats.

Muamma is not just a story of entertainment; it is a social commentary that fearlessly portrays the realities of a divorced woman in a conservative society.

Saba Qamar delivers a powerhouse performance as Jahan Ara. Her portrayal captures a spectrum of emotions from vulnerability and grief to courage and determination. Her ability to convey the subtleties of pain, intelligence, and moral strength has won the hearts of audiences within the first few episodes. Usman Mukhtar, Nimra Shahid, and the supporting cast contribute significantly to the drama, ensuring that every character is vividly realized and essential to the storyline.

Saba Qamar’s return to HUM TV after a long hiatus has been highly anticipated. She has previously delivered exceptional performances in acclaimed dramas such as Bunty I Love You, Maat, Dastaan, and Besharam, leaving an indelible mark on every role. In Muamma, she brings maturity, depth, and nuance, making Jahan Ara a character that viewers both admire and empathize with. Her presence ensures that the drama is not merely watched but experienced.

Beyond entertainment, Muamma carries a profound social message. It teaches that a woman who stands firm for her rights and confronts societal pressures can emerge victorious despite adversity.

Muamma is poised to become a classic, remembered not just for its gripping storyline but also for its social relevance and strong performances. It stands as a testament to HUM TV’s commitment to selecting compelling themes, producing high-quality content, and contributing to societal awareness. The drama is a vivid portrayal of courage, resilience, and justice, and it resonates across generations.

By presenting a woman’s struggle with honesty, sensitivity, and drama, HUM TV has set a benchmark for quality storytelling. Muamma is a triumph of narrative, performance, and social commentary a drama that will not only entertain but also educate, inspire, and provoke thought.

The post An Epic Tale of a Woman’s Struggle, Revenge, and Enduring Hope – Muamma appeared first on Glam Magazine.

“Art will always find a way to break through and create something new”

Ozlem Ozhabes – theatre director, performer, and lecturer on theatre’s power to challenge society and inspire change.

1. How did your visit to Pakistan come about? Also give us some insight into your play.

I live in Abu Dhabi, and recently, one of the World Culture Festival organizers and the technical team members named Azaib invited artists to participate. He personally approached Bill Bragin, the curator and director of the NYU Abu Dhabi Art Centre, who then recommended my play. Azaib contacted me and extended an invitation to participate.

The play is called Subj:medeA and it tells the story of a goddess who is betrayed by her husband. In her act of revenge, she kills all her children. As a mother myself, I am deeply interested in how society places immense expectations on women—how they are supposed to be and behave, and how they often become trapped in their homes without much support. Having become a mother myself, I’ve experienced these pressures first-hand. This inspired me to create a show about a mother who takes the most extreme, tragic action – she commits the worst possible act. I wrote the play myself, with some assistance.

• How did your journey into theatre and acting begin?

My story isn’t a typical one. I’ve always been shy and introverted. As a child, I didn’t like much attention. In high school, I was planning to study political science, and also became part of a youth group. We spent a lot of time in rehearsals, and I think what drew me into theatre was the collective aspect; the idea of creating something together, working on a piece not just for ourselves but for the sake of art. The trust and transparency required to connect with twenty people at once felt like magic to me. That collaborative nature is what kept me in love with theatre.

I then studied dramaturgy and became part of a theatre company, assisting with directing, working with lights, cleaning stages – you name it. The collective spirit of theatre is what continues to inspire me.

• Why in particular did you study feminist dramaturgy?

I didn’t feel the need to call myself a feminist until I became a mother even though I consistently defended women’s rights. So, the question for me was: what’s wrong with calling myself a feminist? If you look at theatre history, it’s full of male names—male characters, male perspectives, male-dominated viewpoints and behaviours. Unless you explicitly call it feminist, you’re not making a statement. Would I simply call it feminist? No. What I hope for is a world without discrimination, where everyone is free, and where everyone including professors, understand their boundaries. On the stage, we often need to raise consciousness. I wish feminism was irrelevant, and my play didn’t exist but, in my performance, here, I had audiences from Algeria, Pakistan, Mozambique, Turkey, Azerbaijan, Ukraine and other countries, and I realised how much these themes resonated across different cultures. It’s so relevant that I feel I have to explicitly call myself a feminist.

• You have been involved in diverse projects across different countries including Florence, London and Turkey, and now in Abu Dhabi. How have these experiences shaped your storytelling methods?

In Florence, I mainly taught, and I found that Italian actors are very happy and expressive. In Turkey and the broader Middle East, restrictions on what stories can be told and what can be openly discussed influence the form of storytelling. Stories and subtleties often become less important, and bigger concepts take precedence. In London, the environment is driven by capitalism, technology, and a fast-paced culture and you have to learn the rules quickly, know your place, and understand which plays or roles are accessible.

Though my heart still beats in Turkey, I find places like Abu Dhabi or Pakistan, where I’ve only been for a short time, share a similar curiosity. I see in the students’ eyes the same questions I had at their age.

• You’ve directed a wide range of plays, from classics like Romeo and Juliet and A Midsummer Night’s Dream to contemporary works. How did that come about?

These aspects are a key part of my teaching practice because theatre of Turkey has historically been heavily reliant on translated texts and classics. Therefore, students need to engage deeply with these texts and learn how to position themselves within them. Moreover, these texts are considered “classics” for a reason—they resonate universally. They offer students an opportunity to view them as exemplary works from the West, and within them, students recognise elements of their own histories, families, and peers. Once students begin to see their own histories reflected in these texts, the works start to truly resonate on a deeper level, transforming them from distant classics into meaningful reflections of their own lives.

• Photo Credit: Anna Jopp
• You started Datça Theatre Summer Camp and have been the director of ACT, a project focused on artistic freedom. What inspired you to start them?

I am someone deeply obsessed with systems, yet I also believe that systems are inherently destined to fail. Despite their inevitable shortcomings, systems can produce something meaningful and inspiring over time. Hence Datça, a two-to-three-week camp, was my attempt to bring together various acting techniques into a cohesive approach. Later, I linked this to a core principle: it’s all about the artist – finding vulnerability, embracing fragility and discovering freedom. We engaged in intensive training, working with nature, classical texts, and monologues through clown work and Linklater method. It was about discovering creativity through extremities and pushing boundaries. ACT, a youth theatre, is particularly significant because it touches on the culture of theatre in the country. Instead of simply teaching young people what to do, we empowered them to create—giving them agency. The initiative aims to train youth as future change-makers and trainers, bringing together participants from three cities: Diyarbakır, İzmir, and Istanbul. Politically, it was especially meaningful to gather young people from different regions and backgrounds to hear their childhood stories and building connections.  

• According to what you’ve observed so far, what are some of the strengths and weaknesses of theatre in Pakistan?

I haven’t seen a lot of Pakistani work, but what I have seen is very powerful. It reminds me of my students in Turkey. However, I’ve noticed that most of the directors’ names are male. As a feminist, I believe that to truly strengthen any artistic field, it’s essential to hear women’s voices and perspectives.

• What are some of the skills that you consider are essential for an actor?

Reading texts, understanding what you read, and delivering it effectively from your positionality – these are essentials. Take Hamlet for example, he is a 17-year-old boy struggling to make sense of the world, and then he loses his father. The image of that father, and the uncertainty surrounding it, deeply influences him. To portray Hamlet convincingly, you need to grasp his dilemma and interpret his lines with empathy. Delivering the text isn’t just technical; it’s about knowing where your centre is.

• Considering how rapidly technology is transforming entertainment and communication, how do you envision the future of theatre and performing arts? Do you think theatre risks becoming obsolete – especially among younger generations?

I am quite skeptical about technology, yet I try to remain hopeful. The most progressive shows I’ve seen in recent years come from very young artists in Belgium, Amsterdam, Tunisia, and Iran—where they have created immersive experiences that are quite wild. For instance, audiences might be blindfolded and have to touch objects or engage in sensual experiences, lying down while performers approach them and communicate. You see, as human beings, the more we distance ourselves from direct contact, the more our need for connection persists.

Yes, just like the industrial revolution, this technological revolution is also frightening as this is leading to a dangerous disconnect. Today, we see children suffering and dying, yet we seem indifferent, only witnessing it through screens. If humanity isn’t strong enough to unite around these issues, then theatre becomes just a trivial addition.

But I recently saw a show in Avignon by a Portuguese director: a father and daughter, presented in a very theatrical way in its classical sense. The daughter moves to Mars without telling her father, and they exchange voice messages. It is theatre in its simplest form – two people communicating through voicemails. But it had a huge impact on everyone in the audience. That kind of work gives me hope that even if it’s not theatre, it will be something else because every era creates its own art form. Art will always find a way to break through and create something new.

The post Theatre Beyond Borders appeared first on Glam Magazine.

Q: You’ve worn many creative hats — director, actor, writer and dramatist. How do you switch between these roles, and which one feels most like home to you?

I don’t really switch at all. Most of the time I find myself doing everything, whether it’s my own projects or my production house’s work. For years, if I was acting in something, I’d also be asked to check the dialogues or handle production details. Only in the last couple of years have I had the luxury of just showing up as an actor, performing, and then going home.

But in theatre, I’m still my own ticket-seller, producer, director, and actor. Especially because I mostly do original plays or dramatic remakes which require that level of involvement. And honestly, theatre feels most like home to me. Whether I’m directing, acting, doing dramaturgy, or even just managing a festival, being in that space always feels right.

Q: Your Urdu translation of Stanislavsky’s ‘An Actor Prepares’ is a huge milestone. What inspired you to take on such classic and intense work?

Shararat! That’s really how it began. I had been teaching theory at NAPA for almost a decade, but I wanted to learn acting formally. When I went to Dr. Enver Sajjad and asked him what to study, he simply told me: “Don’t read. Just act.” But I insisted on reading theory first. He reluctantly handed me ‘An Actor Prepares’.

When I read it, I was shocked that such a foundational book on acting had never been translated into Urdu. It’s the first book that actually turned acting into an academic subject. I pushed Dr. Enver Sajjad to translate it, but he declined due to health reasons. Eventually, with support from our dean, Rahat Kazmi, I took it on. Dr. Enver translated half before his health declined, and I carried it forward. What started as mischief turned into a mission and eventually a co-translation.

Q: Why Stanislavsky, specifically?

Because it’s the source. Every major theorist after him stands on the shoulders of ‘An Actor Prepares’. Without it, acting education is incomplete. In Pakistan, we had institutions of performing arts but no Urdu translation of this fundamental text and that made me angry. It’s not just a manual, it’s an invitation to discover your own method. That openness is what drew me to it, and I do hope to translate the rest of the trilogy one day.

Q: You’re a strong voice for female empowerment and meaningful content. How do you see the industry evolving in that space?

I’m cautious when we say “evolving.” Women are mostly carving their own space rather than being given it. Institutions rarely make conscious efforts to place women in positions of creative or administrative authority. Yes, women are often welcomed in supportive roles, the ones that carry pressure but don’t demand credit.

Personally, I stopped trying to be responsible for every woman. I decided the one woman I must always answer to is myself. By doing that I found myself connecting with other women, telling them: ‘This was your right, you could have asked for it.’ My work has been grassroots, starting from my own institution, and slowly spreading outward.

Q: As a woman in the arts, what challenges have shaped your journey the most?

The biggest challenge was invisibility. I would sit in rooms full of men and hear, ‘We don’t have any writers.’ And I was right there. That hurt deeply, I cried at home sometimes but it never broke me. Somehow, life always gave me a chance to be seen again.

I tell young women this: don’t abandon your identity at the first sign of hardship. Many women do. They think it’s easier to hide who they are, but that phase as difficult as it feels is just one part of the journey. If you hold on, there’s always another step waiting that can change everything.

Q: Your documentary ‘Our Jacob’ won hearts. What was the most powerful moment for you during its making?

The irony is, I wasn’t supposed to write it at all! The concept was by Naseem Himoz, but when he fell sick close to the deadline, I had to step in. I wrote the first draft in a single night, then refined it later.

What struck me most was the people of Jacobabad speaking about John Jacob a British officer who gave the city its name. They spoke of him as a healer, almost a saint. To this day, people visit his grave, believing threads tied there can cure back pain. It was fascinating to see how a colonial administrator became a figure of local spiritual reverence, and how deeply people protected his legacy. That was the emotional core of the documentary.

Q: How do you balance your work between stage performances like ‘Antony and Cleopatra’ and more intimate mediums like documentaries or poetry?

I don’t balance at all. Poetry comes when it wants to; you can’t summon it. Acting on the other hand, is deeply intimate and consuming. Honestly, no artist can work by ‘balancing.’ We work like mad people sixteen hours a day. When the pandemic forced me to pause in 2020, it was my first real break in ten years. There’s no balance because creating requires both survival and luxury. You must earn to live, but also create the illusion of having time, space, and beauty to write. It’s constant juggling.

Q: Your last play at NAPA, ‘The River’s Daughter’, was a powerful production. How was it received?

The response was overwhelming. At a time when theatre audiences in Karachi were shrinking, this play managed to pull people back in. And that success wasn’t just mine it was collective. Seniors, mid-career artists, students—everyone at NAPA contributed.

What made it special was that it was an original play, and unfortunately, there’s a bias against original writing in theatre. Even respected teachers and colleagues often avoided it. ‘The River’s Daughter’ broke that pattern. It had a powerful script, a versatile cast including Aamina Ilyas’s debut and Sheema Kirmani, and a troupe of folk musicians who brought raw authenticity. For me, that was the highlight, making folk singers feel at home in a theatre space, and making the production truthful in a Stanislavskian sense.

Q: You work closely with aspiring artists as a coach and student counselor. What advice do you find yourself repeating often?

The first thing I tell them is to read and not just books, but themselves. Self-reflection is the starting point of any artistic journey. Second, I remind them to take their work seriously. Not every moment is for laughter; discipline matters.

Third, silence—our art is built on silence. A performance can cost crores in lights, makeup, and production, but if one actor needs focus and another distracts them, it destroys the worship of the craft. Whether in theatre or on screen, silence is sacred. Many young students struggle with this, but it’s crucial. Fourth, I stress originality. Don’t copy. Your original idea will always carry more power than any adaptation.

Q: You have also started your own private academy. Please tell us about it.

Yes, it’s called Theakada (Theatre K Academy of Dramatic Arts Karachi), launched earlier this year. I had already founded Theatre K Productions back in 2012, but Theakada is my second more ambitious venture, a creative training academy.

The idea was born after my experience designing NAPA’s first-ever Master Class in 2022. I developed my own curriculum from over a decade of academic discourse. That course generated revenue and respect for the institution, but more importantly, it showed me the demand for new kinds of creative education. Our very first academic activity was an eight-hour masterclass with filmmaker Jami. Not a single person left the room. That’s the kind of immersive and transformative experience we want to create.

Q: Do you think enough platforms exist for young talent in Pakistan? What more can be done?

Platforms, as people imagine them, don’t really exist here. Young artists now have phones and can make two-minute films — that’s something. But the myth that someone will just ‘discover’ you and

put your face on a billboard is dangerous. Real platforms come from consistent, quality work. Right now, much of our theatre is in degeneration. There’s no strong lifeboat for young talent.

Q: What does “meaningful entertainment” mean to you in today’s digital age of viral trends and content overload?

For me, meaningful entertainment has to carry a message. We live in an age of endless, mindless scrolling. But once in a while, you stop. Why? Because something had depth, something touched you. That’s meaningful. And I’ll go further: it’s not just ‘meaningful,’ it has to be original. The moment you tell your own story, it becomes meaningful automatically. That’s what we lack today—originality.

Q: What advice would you like to give aspiring artists who want to enter this field?

Don’t chase advice. If you truly believe you belong in this field, just do it. But yes, listen to everyone. Sometimes the most unexpected feedback from a friend, a stranger and even domestic help can shift your perspective and improve your craft.

The post Weaving Stories of Strength, and Soul appeared first on Glam Magazine.

At its heart, the play pays homage to the Pakistani soldiers stationed on the Siachen Glacier, one of the most unforgiving battlefronts in the Karakoram where Pakistan and India have maintained a military presence since the 1980s. While Maqsood’s hallmark wit runs through the script—quick repartee, satirical digs, and clever wordplay—the core of the drama lies in exploring the psychological toll of separation from home and the relentless physical demands of surviving in such hostile terrain.

The narrative begins in darkness, with spotlights illuminating soldiers and their families grappling with the reality of duty before the scene shifts to the icy peaks of Siachen. A painted mountain backdrop and a lone tent create the setting for soldiers whose camaraderie and spirited exchanges drive much of the early humour. Their verbal sparring with unseen Indian troops delivers some of the liveliest moments, including the infamous “zaheen Sardar” quip, while Maqsood does not spare his own society from mockery—a soldier mistaking a white board for a peace sign only to discover it’s a Bahria Town advertisement earns loud laughter. The comic rhythm continues when an Indian soldier accidentally crosses over, triggering a series of sharp, playful interactions.

Gradually, however, the mood shifts. The battle scene, though intense, makes this argument forcefully, confronting the audience with the cost of violence. From a production standpoint, Siachen displays greater theatrical craft than Maqsood’s previous collaborations, with strong use of lighting, sound, and smooth transitions between scenes. If the set design had been broader to reflect the magnitude of its subject, it might have elevated the staging further, but the effort remains commendable.

With its return to the stage, Siachen demonstrates why it continues to resonate—it is at once funny and poignant, entertaining and thought-provoking. The production reaffirms Anwar Maqsood’s unique ability to merge satire with substance in the realm of Pakistani theater.

The post Return Of Siachen on Stage appeared first on Glam Magazine.

The play confined to one room, presents two elderly women seemingly forgotten by time and family. Their world is at a standstill, and memories are the only sustenance in the confines of the four walls that haven’t seen visitors for a long time. The title, House Arrest, couldn’t be more appropriate to their situation.

On the surface, it appears to be a domestic drama, an ongoing conflict between the old women and their materialistic son and daughter-in-law. But beneath that lies a scathing, satirical reflection of a broader reality. The obsession with ownership, the desperation for control and the pettiness of egos. In their arguments over a name on a gate, we see our own societal hierarchies, our personal wars for validation, and the illusion that money and power equals peace.

The brilliance of Anwar Maqsood lies in his layers. As the women remain ‘arrested’ in their own home, the audience is introduced to a parade of visitors: a robber, a retired judge, a former police officer and a disillusioned hockey player. Each is symbolic. Each a thread in the unraveling fabric of the society portrayed in the play. Together, they paint a bleak but bitingly humorous portrait of a nation where the powerful exploit, where the system has failed, and the common citizen is left caught in the crossfire.

The house isn’t just their prison. It’s a metaphor for the country. Its locked doors echo with stories of betrayal, of promises broken in the name of reform. And as the characters weave in and out, bringing their chaos and confessions, we’re left with an uncomfortable truth: perhaps we are all, in some way, under house arrest.

Yet, despite the weight of its message, House Arrest never feels preachy. Anwar Maqsood’s wit is razor-sharp, his humour disarming. He allows us to laugh before we realize what we’re laughing at.

One of the play’s most powerful moments comes in the form of a domestic brawl a comedic yet deeply moving scuffle between the women and their daughter-in-law. The movements bordering on gymnastics are brilliantly performed by the cousin and daughter-in-law. It’s chaotic, yes. But also cathartic. Because in that moment, the tension breaks. The truths spill out. And we are reminded why theatre remains such a vital art: it makes us feel and think.

The play had it’s humorous moments with laughter resonating in the hall unabashedly. The acting of the characters was superb, specially the main characters Shameen Tariq who played the role of Bee Amma and Raisa Raisani who played the role of Nasreen. But one felt the lack of cohesion in the presentation here and there. Was it due to the meddling of strong outside factors and censorship perhaps? Overall the play was a much needed injection for the Karachi crowd bring to mind the adage laughter is the best medicine.

The post A Satire That Hit the Heart appeared first on Glam Magazine.

If you were wandering around the Karachi Arts Council recently, chances are you heard loud laughter echoing through the auditorium. It was the opening night of Monkey Business, the latest theatrical venture by Yasir Hussain — who wears multiple hats here as the writer, director, and lead actor. The play was a clever mix of farce, satire, and classic Karachi-style comedy that had the audience in stitches from start to finish.

At the centre of the chaos is Wasim (played by Yasir Hussain himself), a struggling actor whose glory days are behind him. He’s married to Sana (Yusra Irfan), a fiery, no-nonsense painter whose temper can be as bold as her brushstrokes. Adding to the mix is their tenant, Sherry (Umer Alam), an aspiring thespian with big dreams and a flair for drama.

Things start to spiral when Wasim receives a call from a stern-sounding representative (Bilal Yousufzai) from the Arts Council, investigating the disability funds Wasim’s been receiving. In a panic, Wasim stages an elaborate ruse, pretending to suffer from a physical ailment — complete with crutches and a limp. Meanwhile, news of a recent escape from a local asylum adds an unexpected layer of confusion to an already tangled web of lies and misunderstandings.

What follows is classic farce: mistaken identities, disguises, and even some impromptu dance numbers. Wasim and Sherry end up donning women’s clothes and shaking a leg to popular desi tunes in an attempt to keep their ruse alive.

Yasir Hussain’s performance as Wasim is a masterclass in comic timing. He’s at ease on stage, shifting effortlessly between the grounded and the ridiculous. Yusra Irfan holds her own as the fierce and feisty Sana, while Umer Alam’s Sherry brings an endearing goofiness that balances out the trio. Bilal Yousufzai, though in a supporting role, adds the perfect tension needed to push the story forward.

Visually and tonally, the play pays tribute to Karachi’s vibrant theatre scene from the 1980s and ’90s — a time when dance numbers, double entendres, and larger-than-life characters were all part of the fun. And while Monkey Business may feel nostalgic, it never feels dated. It uses the old tricks with a new flair.

There’s something refreshing about a play that doesn’t take itself too seriously, yet knows exactly what it wants to say. Monkey Business is that kind of experience. It was not here to preach or provoke deep reflection but to make you laugh until your sides hurt. But in doing so, it also gently nudge you to think about the trials of creative professionals, the absurdities of bureaucracy, and the fine line between reality and performance. In a world often too grim for its own good, Yasir Hussain delivers a much-needed dose of joy — chaotic, clever, and wonderfully theatrical.

The post Monkey Business Swings appeared first on Glam Magazine.

A five-week cultural festival, the largest of its kind in recent times, was held at the Arts Council of Pakistan Karachi, where participants from 20 countries graced the city and presented theatre plays and musical performances. Arts Council had earlier announced a national theatre festival to be held in October, which then culminated into an international festival of not only theatre but also dance and music.

The festival began at the end of September continuing into the first week of October. Musicians from five countries joined hands to perform at the inauguration ceremony with Rwandans, South Africans, Nepalese, Azerbaijanis and Pakistani musicians presenting a scintillating music experience for the audience.

The following two days, Lahore’s Olomopolo Media staged an experimental play White Rabbit, Red Rabbit, enacted first by Nadia Jamil, and the next day by Sarmad Khoosat. This experiment was a success as both actors did a commendable job giving their versions. On the weekend, a mega concert was held with different performers from the same five countries presenting their music. This was followed by a theatre play by the Kosovan group, Art Per Art. The play, Waiting for Train, had a packed audience. Rwandan Mashirika Performing Art and Media Company presented their play, Generation 25, also on the same day.

Pakistani, Rwandans, South Africans and Azerbaijani artists presented a dance for peace. This fusion of various dance forms was a very inspiring experience for the audience. Theatre play, Karachi ka bichhu, a farce by Khalid Ahmed who wrote and directed the play was followed by Khwaja Moin’s Taleem-e Balighan, modernized by Farhan Alam in a 2.0 format the next day. Another comedy, Slaver: Aaj ki taza khabar, followed. The next day a puppet show was presented called, The Devil/Le Diable, followed by another puppet show from Italy by Nina Theatre Put your heart into it. This play was shown twice in the festival. Bazelah Mustafa’s play, V-gen …error 404: not found, was staged later. This was a bold play and thus marked 18+ for the audience. Japanese theatre play, Are you lovin it, was staged by Theatre Group Gumbo, directed by Kayo Tamura.

Another mega festival showcasing work from Pakistani and Ukrainian musicians was presented, the next day, followed by a Qawwali night, featuring Fareed Ayaz and Abu Muhammad Qawwals.

Play, Suicide Incorporated a satire was well received by the viewers followed by another Pakistani play, Clue, which was also popular within the audience. Sri Lankan Stage Theatre Group staged a play called, Patterns of our genocide. Written by Ali Johar and Amal de Chickera, the play was directed by acclaimed Sri Lankan director, Ruwanthie de Chickera. The tagline of the play said it all: from Rohingya to Palestine. Shahnawaz Bhatti’s play, Chaturaee, staged next was a social commentary. Bhatti who is good at directing social plays proved his mettle with this presentation.

Mazhar Noorani and Syed Muntazir adapted and directed the next theatrical experience, 39 steps, with two days of dance returning to the stage but in the form of a play about a dancer. Mi Raqsam by Iftikhar Akram was a choreographed storytelling, inspired by stories of artists that exist all around us. Indian author Javed Siddiqi’s Saalgirah was presented in Sindhi. Directed by Paras Masroor who also acted in it, the play created a magic of its own. Tehrik-e Niswan presented Ibsen’s A Doll’s House as Guriya ka ghar, a thought provoking play.

The last week of the festival started with a comedy play, Khwabon ki nautanki. It was written by Babar Jamal and directed by Uzma Sabin. Russian Lidia Kopina Company presented Road, a dance performance that mesmerized everybody. No world cultural experience can be complete without mentioning the Bard and so, Shakespeare’s Fool was the next show. Directed by British artistic director Maren Scott, the presentation was well received by the audience.

A fusion of German and Pakistani music, Berlin nach Lahore was next. Ashraf Sharif Khan on sitar, Christoph Reuter on keyboards, and Thomas Rudigar on percussion proved that music knows no boundaries. There were German, Egyptian, and Pakistani plays towards the end of the festival along with some musical performances too. The festival was dominated by theatre shows compared to music performances, but the end result made it a complete cultural experience. Also, notable was the fact that most of the Karachi performances had graduates from the National Academy of Performing Arts-NAPA in them.

Kudos to Arts Council’s President Ahmed Shah and his team for conceiving such a brilliant programme, executed on such a huge scale without any glitches.

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The Walled City of Lahore Authority’s Cultural Troupe gave a thoroughly entertaining performance at the National Academy of Performing Arts (NAPA) for four evenings, recently.

The show on Day One began with a welcome address by Napa’s CEO Junaid Zuberi. Former senator and board member of the academy Javed Jabbar, who had conceptualized the programme said, “The credit for making NAPA goes to the federal and provincial governments as citizens of Pakistan are able to benefit from the extraordinary standards of teaching, guidance of individual development and other fields such as cinema, television etc., without often being acknowledged,” said Mr. Jabbar. He also introduced and praised Kamran Lashari, the man behind the troupe.

Two show-reels were shown about the work done by the Walled City of Lahore Authority followed by Kamran Lashari’s speech. He said he didn’t know what made Mr. Jabbar showcase the talent of his group in a city like Karachi. “We have 12 gates in Lahore so thank you for opening those gates. I’m delighted and overwhelmed because I’m the guy who’s carried Sindh inside me all my life. It was instant love. The romance with Sindh began as soon as I got into civil service. I landed in Umerkot in District Tharparkar for my first 18 months of service. I was instantly attracted to the culture. Then I stayed in Sindh for about nine years – Thatta, Karachi West and the last posting in Sukkur. This flame for culture in me was ignited by Sindh, most of all the District of Tharparkar.” Mr Lashari then spoke on the projects that he undertook after retirement, before the performances.  

The first act presented a kathak dance by the father-daughter duo Zakarya and Jessica Iqbal. It was a traditional rendition of the teen taal beat done with perfect moves. The show was further elevated with the lively presentation by folk artiste Fazal Jatt who appeared on stage with a group of musicians, a dhol player to his right and a chimta player on his left, flanked by four dancers. He used the form of storytelling with impressive vocals and rhythmic patterns, singing the famous tale of Sohni-Mahival. His presentation was extremely popular with the audience. Continuing in the same style, he sang ‘Chhalla’ and rounded off his segment with ‘Lok Boliyan’ with the audience clapping rhythmically to its lively beat. The second half of the programme constituted of vibrant performances introduced to the audience by Sabahat Rafiq. The final item of the evening was a dhamaal by Saeen Abbas.

Day Two had a different audience with underprivileged school children participating. They were so involved in the performances that they danced to the tunes by Fazal Jatt and the dhammal that was generated by Saeen Abbas with his dhol team, bringing joy to the organizers.

The last two days were open for the general public. Again, the hall was brimming with guests but there was a slight change in the programme: Fazal Jatt came immediately after the father-daughter duo’s kathak performance, and generated so much energy that at the end of the entire show, it was only natural that he made a re-entry for another performance. Karachi was indeed enthralled and awed by the zestful presentation of Walled City Troupe.

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For 16 days at the National Academy of Performing Arts (NAPA), the stage belonged to women from 25^th April to 10^th May. Main stage, basement, outdoors; the Academy celebrated women performing artists in a befitting manner.

It was song and dance and some very serious (and one quite funny) plays. It all started one fine Thursday evening with an opening ceremony where the objectives and the programme of the festival were announced. It was followed by Sheema Kermani’s play, Her Stories. Sheema took five women from our society—Atiya Faizee, Sarah Shagufta, Madam Azurie, Parween Qasim and Neelima Ganshyam—and narrated their stories in a manner that is unique. In typical Sheema Kermani style, she rewrote history in bold letters.

Kulsoom Aftab as Atiya Faizee was particularly noticeable, especially when she sang a song for one of her admirers. Sheema showed most of them, including Allama Iqbal. Mujtaba Xaidi did an excellent job of playing that important role in a very human character.

There were other plays in the festival with strong themes. NAPA alumnus Aisha Hasan staged three stories from Ismat Chughtai: Ghungat, Aadhi Aurat Aadha Khwaab, and Ek Shohar ki Talash Mein. The audience loved the stories. Nighat Sultana’s Raeesa ka Ramzan was inspired by a character from Dostoyevsky’s works. Raeesa is a street prostitute but she is unable to accept this. The way she is treated by society is also a contributory factor in her self-denial.

Shahid Mahmood Nadeem’s celebrated play, Bari, resulted in a standing ovation from the audience. Samina Seher’s performance, in particular, as a woman on death row was very moving. Rafi Pir’s Ankhyan was staged by Azad Theatre, a team that had especially flown in from Lahore. The play was in chaste Punjabi and the performers knew how to handle such a script for the audience. A gut-spilling comedy from Noel Coward, rechristened as Wapsi, was presented by Zarqa Naz. The play was well prepared and well received by a full house.

There were two plays for children as well, The Bobbles and Sargam. While the first one was in English, the other one was a free adaptation of Hollywood movie, the Sound of Music. Atif Badar once again proved what his seniority means. Three dance performances followed, with Sabiha Zia and her team presenting the story in movement form. Sumera Ali and her team presented some kathak and folk dances. Sumera’s poise and finesse was appreciated by the audience.

The last dance performance of the festival took place on the last day in the closing ceremony by Nighat Chaudhry, one of the finest exponents of kathak dancing in Pakistan. She presented a piece she has recently developed called Purdah, followed by dance Teen Taal. Her performance ended on a thumri. Her Teen Taal was exceptionally beautiful, with pirouettes and footwork so smooth that only an expert like her could achieve it.

The music scene was outstanding. On the third night, Pireh Moosa took to the stage with her debut solo album preview. A musician and song writer having classical training in piano and Western vocals from a young age, Pireh’s album Shades of Blue spoke volumes of her capabilities. Popular singer from the walled city of Lahore, Sawera Ali sang right into the hearts of Karachiites with her rendition of Nur Jehan’s songs. She also sang some Punjabi folk songs, inspiring audience to sing along with her. TV playback singer Alycia Dias presented songs in English as well as in Urdu. She enthralled the audience with her singing style. The musical journey also had Bazm-e Sangeet, a nostalgic evening with Nazia Zuberi-Hasan. Her performance included works from Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Allama Iqbal, Fehmida Riaz and Bahadur Shah Zafar. Some of the songs she sang were hits by Mehdi Hasan, Habib Wali Muhammad and Iqbal Bano. The Zia Mohyeddin Theater where most of the events of the festival were held, filled to the brim for her performance with the fans sitting even on stairs. The very next day, Seerat Jafri and her Karachi Jazz Band paid tribute to women jazz singers as well as to pop icon Nazia Hasan with full house.

A special performance was held on 8^th May with American all-women country-pop band Raining Jane performing at the festival. The quartet from Los Angeles played from their works, and the audience simply fell in love with them.

The grand finale was a surprise inclusion, because it was not mentioned in the festival brochure. Noted singer Humera Channa sang some of her all-time hits as well as some others from the golden era of the Pakistan film industry. She sang Nur Jehan which the audience loved.

On the sidelines of the main festival, there were five documentaries, six street plays and poetry recitals. NAPA students presented four of the street plays, matching the quality and the standards set by the professionals who presented the other two.

The festival ended on a high note. It had started with a full house for Her Stories, and ended with the crowd flooding the ZM Theater for Nighat Chaudhry and Humera Channa. Throughout the festival, there were days when even on weekdays, there were houseful shows. NAPA CEO Junaid Zuberi said at the end of the festival, this was only the beginning as he planned to make it a regular show every year.

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