Einstein in Lahore

That evening at the Faiz International Festival, all three elements represented timelessness in their essence: Lahore in November, Naseeruddin Shah and Albert Einstein.

Members of the audience, before and after the performance, reiterated a heart-warming truth, i.e. “one would pay money just to hear Naseeruddin Shah talk.” He could say anything and move you in ways you did not think possible. But this was special: for one great and complex man was playing another.

Einstein once said that the most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. And even as the play Einstein, written by Gabriel Emanuel, revealed intimate details of Einstein’s personal world, a certain beauty - as well as mystery - was retained. In a performance that held the audience spellbound for about seventy-five minutes, Naseeruddin Shah, playing Einstein, took us on a journey that captured Einstein’s genius in the field of physics, his deep understanding of human nature as well as his skepticism about it. Also on display was Einstein’s self-doubt: something we, unfortunately, do not associate with great individuals. Involved in battles personal and global, Albert Einstein shared with Lahore his passionate certitude about his theory, combined with a disarming humility about the limits of his own understanding.

All forms of art have an inherent democratic element to them: we are not necessarily bound by one ‘correct’ interpretation. Therefore, the views expressed here are shaped by my own biases, limitations and preferences for certain elements in the performance. The play represented two parallel streams: a scientific genius and the human being behind him. With the benefit of age and hindsight, Albert Einstein shared with the audience his pride at being vindicated regarding his theory of relativity—albeit not without a great deal of struggle. The scientist in him used the words “right” and “wrong” to communicate ideas. For a scientist, demonstrable certitude is the greatest currency. Things that could be measured seemed to put Einstein at ease and brought out his empirically backed convictions. His professional life, for the most part, allowed him the luxury of not having to grapple with the grey areas that ask difficult questions of us as individuals. But he did not - indeed could not - shy away from the grey areas: and there were plenty of those in his personal life. Remarkable though his progress as a scientist was, he could not escape problems of a personal, national or global nature. And these problems did not lend themselves to clear answers—partly because those problems (whether of love, war or rabid nationalism) cannot be solved by anyone in the solitude of their workspace.

Naseeruddin Shah allowed us to engage with Einstein on a personal level

Driven as all ambitious people are, by a burning desire to change the world and to be recognized for his part in it, Naseeruddin Shah’s version of Einstein made one wonder whether the scientist assumed that the solitude of his workspace would also act as his sanctuary against all problems. That is not an unreasonable belief, since single-mindedness as unique as Einstein’s did push other things in his life to the margin. But as he admitted, marginalising something is not the same as escaping it. Emotional wounds penetrate all doors and permeate time.  A man as intelligent as Einstein could not deny this fact. Even as he ascended as a professional, he was plagued with guilt about the loneliness he caused to his wife and children. In a deeply moving way, Naseeruddin Shah repeated the angry pleadings of a wife who felt invisible to the man she married. Even as Einstein recounted averting from his wife’s gaze, he could recall that no professional project is weighty enough to assuage the guilt caused by hurting the ones we love. The audience was given the choice between either seeing Einstein as a selfish, obsessive man or as one responding to a higher calling. All ambitious people confront this question daily: to whom do we owe a higher responsibility: the work we love or the people who enrich our lives? No doubt what Einstein achieved was great, but focusing on his professional success alone is a great disservice to a life with much greater texture and pain than we mostly imagine.

In this way, Naseeruddin Shah pulled off something truly remarkable: allowing us to engage with Einstein on a human level. He was not on a pedestal anymore. He was vulnerable and unsure, just like the rest of us—plagued with doubt, yet carrying on.

The play also brought out in a profound way the burden of various identities that we carry. Our attempts at escaping these burdens are futile, Einstein reminds us, since identities are not really a matter of choice. When it comes to identities, what matters is how others perceive us, not our adoption of them. This became painfully obvious to Einstein when his faith determined how others saw him—as a ‘Jewish scholar’. He did not have the luxury of escaping this. In this respect he realised how he was different from majorities—which are not chained to burdens of identity since they do not need to wear it on their sleeves to make their way through society. But Einstein did not have that luxury in Germany and this, perhaps, made him more devoted to his identity, if not his faith.

He cared about his place in history and went to great lengths to distance himself from the destruction he was given scientific credit for in the aftermath of the two atomic bombs dropped on Japan. The mystery is relevant here again. Surely, one wonders, a man as intelligent as Einstein would have known of the possible uses/abuses of his work? But in his defence, he was consistent in his opposition to use of violence. The audience’s politics will determine, as it so often does, how we view this celebrated figure. There was something of a Gandhian in him, warning us that any acceptance of violence will open the floodgates. In the play, he implores us to remember that you can either be for war or against it—there are no grey areas. That theme was particularly relevant and sobering for Lahore, and of course the wider world.

Naseeruddin Shah's Einstein did not lament the fact that he had doubts

Naseeruddin Shah’s Einstein did not lament the fact that he had doubts per se. Despite his discomfort, the character confronted them, which is a virtue in any age. Questions are good, he reminded us. He embraced his own insignificance by making clear his views that a scientist is temporary but an equation is for eternity.

As the performance ended in rapturous applause, I had two main thoughts to take home with me. We, as a species, are engaged in a project that is nowhere near finished. And the larger purpose, if there is one, will be served if we avoid getting drunk on delusions of certitude or permanence—and yet retain timeless lessons and keep asking questions.

Naseeruddin Shah’s passionate performance managed to show us how subtly, and yet deeply, self-doubt was weaved into the fabric of a man’s personality generally celebrated for his certitude. And perhaps there could have been no one better than Naseeruddin Shah to highlight this. He is, after all, a man who introduces textures of language and layers of nuance, even in the most mundane of things.

I walked out of the theatre thoroughly sated by a wonderful evening: connected to one of the greatest minds we have ever known. And, yet, as Einstein would remind us, I should not be too sure of my understanding. But I did experience the mysterious: as per Einstein, a most beautiful thing.

---

 

Tahira Syed was among the noted artists who performed as part of the Faiz Festival. She recounts for The Friday Times her experience at the festival, her relationship with Faiz’s work and her cherished personal memories of the great poet

How would you describe your experience at the Faiz festival?

It was a very encouraging sight because people flocked to attend this event. Aside from the performances, there were lectures on, ostensibly, very “dry” subjects. And yet people were attending and engaging very seriously with all this.

It was my belief also that Lahoris are not interested in such pursuits. Our basic approach is that any such event must feature entertainment, and just that. Now this festival, of course, was not merely about pure entertainment. But I found a lot of people there and they seemed interested.

People came to listen to me and my sister talking about our mother. I thought people are more interested in the “new” kind of music, but it was a surprise to me that there are still people who want to listen to good poetry, and so I was pleasantly surprised to see the turn-out.

I performed 7-8 numbers by Faiz sahib, and these are not easy to understand, but the response was good. In the present-day environment, what with fundamentalism visible everywhere, we can miss the fact that there is still an audience for these things.

The organisers had clearly done a great job, and the overall atmosphere was most pleasant.

Do you like singing Faiz? Is there anything in particular - the mood of the poems, the quality of the language, the persona of the poet - that you relate to or find particularly enjoyable?

He was a very good friend of my parents and often visited our house. So I feel a great deal of fondness and affection towards him. As I grew older, I began to understand more of his poetry. When I was younger, I was perhaps not sufficiently well-versed in the Urdu language to properly understand Faiz’s poetry.

Arshad Mehmood has composed all the versions of Faiz’s poetry that I sing. He tells me the context and conditions in which this poetry was written, so I can better understand it and relate to it.

My repertoire of Faiz’s poetry has also expanded. It started with an Asia Society event some five years ago. And since then, with Arshad Mehmood’s collaboration, I have learnt much about the poet.

There was a time, not long ago, when people like your mother, the renowned singer Malika Pukhraj, and poets like Faiz could be found congregating in the cafes, salons, hotels and TV and radio stations of the country. These were people who had mastered their respective crafts - whether poetry or music - through rigorous training in traditional art forms. How does the cultural landscape of your childhood compare with the one you find here today, and what role, if any, do you wish to play in today’s creative scene?

I feel that we were exposed to the giants in my generation. Compared to that era, I feel today we are afflicted by creative mediocrity. There may be good work today, but I am not aware of it. Soon the remaining people of that era will die out too, and that is sad.

I would love to play a role in whatever way I can, but unfortunately there is not much that I can do. I don’t have that kind of exposure or influence. Whenever I get the opportunity, I do perform and I do sing. There is an SOS fundraiser at which I will perform three songs, for instance. My effort is, obviously, to participate as much as I can in our contemporary cultural sphere, but then the space for my kind of music is ultimately limited. Ultimately, we are talking of a festival or two every year, such as this Faiz festival. I would like to perform more, but there don’t seem to be enough openings.

When we speak of Faiz, what are the personal memories that come to your mind?

One of the happiest memories I can recall was when I bumped into Faiz sahib and Ahmed Faraz sahib in London, and they very kindly agreed to spend some time with me. This was the year 1982. Faiz sahib asked me to sing some of his poetry. I remember having sung for him ”Kab yaad mein tera saath nahin”. Faraz sahib also asked me to sing some of his poetry, and so I sang his “Janan janan”. So I had these two great people in front of me and I was performing their poems for them. It made for an unforgettable experience.

Generally, I remember that Faiz sahib was a very gentle person. He was very soft-spoken and could be seen smiling all the time. He would never put on airs. You never felt that you were in the presence of such a great person. He didn’t talk down to you or pontificate about matters. All this, especially for a young person such as myself, was quite an experience.