Synopsis
Three great religions, Islam – Christianity and Judaism, share the story of Abraham binding and nearly sacrificing his son. Though based on this myth, CHAHETA (The Beloved) is not the story of ‘that’ Abraham and imagines what happened after father and son come down from the mountain. The play explores the psychological scars wrought upon Abraham’s son after surviving his traumatic event.
Did Abraham bring his young son to the mountain for the purpose of human sacrifice, as his wife and son believe, or was he simply trying to toughen up his sensitive young son with a father-and-son camping trip, as he claims? Did an angel of God in the form of a brown sheep, actually intervene on the mountain as scriptures dictate? Chaheta’s dysfunctional family misplaced in time, walks a fascinating line between Inclusivity and alienation and in turn attempts to question the sanity and sanctity of people who claim to talk with God.
The violent abstraction that sometimes borders on the absurd takes us to a place far more insidious than we can imagine.
Director’s Note
This is my second collaboration with Zuabi after 2016’s ‘Main Huun Yusuf Aur Ye Hai Mera Bhai’, and is another piece of proof for the theory. What attracted me to this play is the flawed and lying masculinity being called out to the nature of guilt and responsibility and the morality of instrumentalising human life. The play, when I first read was an unforgettably unnerving experience for me. Names matter when dealing with the important issue of lineal succession. Chaheta integrates elements of the story from the Qur’an and Genesis, such that devotees of each might still claim ownership. The decision not to provide names to any character except for Abraham deliberates ambiguity regarding names and enhances the play’s mythical status. Through these careful choices, Chaheta invites people of all religions across the world to enter into the story and see it through their own faith and in turn question their religion, the burden of myths associated and the judgement handed over.
Charting the very slow-burning realisation of the son who simply cannot connect with no one in the real world, the play blends, mournful poetic instances with stabs of brute reality on the background of a farm full of Sheep.These duelling registers attempt to reflect the trauma of the boy and is emotionally illuminating.
For me, the play is allegorical, satirical, anti-realist which defies genre labels and is a frontal attack on patriarchal assumptions, in which a weakened father figure must face his own hubris.
