Dawn Images

Theatre has the unique ability to speak to us differently, depending on the point in our lives we encounter it. It is for this reason that I found myself in a long queue outside a packed Arts Council of Pakistan Karachi hall, ready to watch Siachen, written by the inimitable Anwar Maqsood and directed by Dawar Mehmood of Kopykats Production. I already watched it a couple of years ago, so this was like returning to a book I had read before, only for certain passages that had once slipped past to begin to hold new meaning.

The play introduces the audience to four seemingly separate stories: a mother and her son; a husband and wife; a brother and sister; and a young couple entangled in romance. These intimate vignettes are threads that weave into the larger narrative of Siachen, the story of soldiers stationed amid the unforgiving heights of the glacier.

Through their voices, the audience is invited to glimpse the personal sacrifices that come with duty.

At its core, Siachen explores the heavy toll exacted on soldiers who leave their families behind. Birthdays, weddings, Eids, moments that mark the rhythm of ordinary life are lost to them in the harshness of snow and silence. The play captures the longing for home, the enduring hope of reunion, and the emotional weight carried in service to one’s country.

Yet, beyond the patriotic fervour, the narrative quietly suggests a more unsettling truth: the conflict itself is futile. On both sides of the border, ordinary people yearn not for conflict but for dialogue, understanding, and peace. This rings especially true after the recent episode in May, when tensions between India and Pakistan nearly escalated into a full-scale war, leaving many shaken by how fragile peace can be.

The soldiers are not truly at war with each other, but rather trapped in a cycle that benefits no one. Watching the play at a time when the Asia Cup is unfolding and cricket teams themselves are caught up in politicised rivalries lends this point even greater relevance. By drawing parallels between sport and war, the play exposes the artificiality of enmity.

Maqsood skillfully underscores the irony that while borders divide, culture unites. Characters casually reference the films, songs, and dramas enjoyed across the border, reminding us that the people on either side are not strangers but reflections of one another. In nature, borders do not exist; it is only the human mind that insists upon them. This subtle yet powerful message transforms Siachen from a story about soldiers into a meditation on humanity itself.

No Anwar Maqsood production is complete without his signature satire, and Siachen is no exception. The play brims with biting humour that spares no institution. The army, the navy, cricket boards, political parties, and even revered historical figures all come under the sharp edge of Maqsood’s wit.

The comedy is uproarious, yet it lingers with afterthoughts that are both uncomfortable and revealing. This balancing act, laughter tinged with recognition, is what makes Maqsood’s writing so enduring.

The technical aspects of the production further elevate the play. The set design was a standout achievement, vividly capturing the frozen desolation of the glacier. From the snow-laden visuals to the bleak chill of the surroundings, the stage itself became a character, underscoring the relentless wrath of nature. Costumes and props, too, were thoughtfully crafted, reinforcing the harsh realism of the soldiers’ environment.

Mehmood’s ability to draw cohesion from the ensemble cast was evident throughout. Dialogue delivery was crisp, sometimes rather needlessly loud, and interconnected, with actors feeding into each other’s rhythm seamlessly. One could tell the accents had been honed with care; the Pashto-accented Urdu was handled with precision, never veering into caricature, while maintaining authenticity.

Among the characters, the Bihari soldier who inadvertently wandered into Pakistani territory left a lasting impression. His diction, cadence, and body language exuded a natural authenticity. Nervous yet determined to fit in with small white lies, he embodied the unease of being caught between belonging and exclusion. His performance alone served as a reminder of the blurred lines that politics insists on drawing.

The attention to detail in accents, gestures, and interactions showcased the production’s meticulousness. Nothing felt half-hearted or out of place, and every character seemed firmly rooted in their role. This sense of integrity made the play feel less like a staged performance and more like a lived experience unfolding before the audience.

Rewatching Siachen reaffirmed why it continues to resonate with audiences. It is a play about borders, yet it dismantles them. It is about soldiers, yet it speaks to civilians. It is a comedy, yet it carries the weight of tragedy. And above all, it is a reminder that while nations may divide, people remain whole.

For anyone seeking not just entertainment but reflection, Siachen offers both in abundance.

The play runs until September 30, a deadline worth noting for those who do not wish to miss an experience that transcends the stage.

Cover image by Kopykat Production