The moon shines brightly upon the stage as people of different ages gather deep inside a forest. Their faith matters not; their gender matters not. These people—of different backgrounds and ages—encircle a man. With long hair, a beard, and an ektara in hand, he sings: "Jaat gelo, jaat gelo bole, Eki Ajob Karkhana."

Fakir Lalon Shai sings of humanity, of how we all leave this earth without the markings of caste or religion.

On August 29, Lalon Shai’s life was brought to life through Theatre’s production of "Baramkhana" at the Nilima Ibrahim Auditorium of Bangladesh Mohila Samity. Drawing inspiration from Sunil Gangopadhyay's acclaimed novel "Moner Manush," the play is written by Pantha Shahriar and directed by Tropa Majumdar.

First staged in 2010, the play honours the life and enduring legacy of Bengal’s mystic philosopher and spiritual leader. The first half of the play is largely based on Sunil Gangopadhyay’s "Moner Manush," depicting Lalon’s early life.

Much of the mystic’s earlier life is shrouded in mystery, as he was reticent about his origins. However, based on the novel, the play depicts the life of a younger Lalon as a good-natured Hindu youth who contracted smallpox while going on a pilgrimage. As the disease was highly contagious and fatal, his companions set him afloat on a raft instead of arranging his funeral rites, leaving him for dead. The narrator, played by director Tropa Majumdar, tells the audience how the banana raft floated onward until he was rescued and nursed back to health by a Muslim family. Some say it was around this time that he met Siraj Sai.

Once he recovered and returned to his own community, he was vehemently rejected for eating in a Muslim household. Rejected by his wife and mother, Lalon asks himself how even a mother could consider her child’s jat (caste) more important than the child himself.

Image

This rejection sparks a deep spiritual questioning of the caste system and social divisions within Lalon. As the play continues, it shows that his questioning was not limited to caste alone. Lalon, now regarded as Lalon Shai, gradually garners disciples and followers from diverse backgrounds—some who lost everything to zamindars (feudal lords), and widows rejected by society. His teachings, his akhra, and his Baramkhana served as a refuge for all outcasts.

In one scene, he and his followers rescue a Hindu widow who was drugged and about to be forced onto her husband's sati pyre by her family. His disciples included women, with whom he ate together—a practice that was rare at the time. All were equal in his eyes, as he stood firmly against a hierarchical society. Despite being a pacifist, Lalon did not turn away from resisting oppressive feudal lords, aptly depicted in the scene where Lalon and his disciples take up lathis (sticks) to physically defend journalist Harinath (Kangal Harinath), whose newspaper exposed the oppressive deeds of the zamindars under British rule.

Even though the play is nearly an hour and a half long, Lalon’s death happens almost in the middle of it. A few years after Jyotirindranath Tagore drew Lalon’s only portrait on his boat—which was depicted on the stage—Lalon Shai passed away, having requested that his Baramkhana serve as his final resting place.

Image

"Baramkhana" does not end with the centenarian philosopher’s death. Unlike the novel "Moner Manush," the play instead transitions into the decades following his death, delving into how his life and legacy were exploited and tarnished over time—a physical and spiritual degradation. In the wake of the 1947 partition, local political parties seized ownership of Lalon’s resting place. His Baramkhana turned into a mazar, and Lalon became a religious symbol, a figure to be positioned against Delhi’s Nizamuddin Auliya.

Soon, Lalon’s mazar became a subject of conflict as various parties vied for its ownership. Traditional Baul practitioners were chased away, and the once-vibrant Baramkhana was stripped of its spiritual atmosphere. The place that was once a sanctuary for outcasts transformed into a spot for commercialized, corporate-sponsored festivals featuring mainstream pop artists, as well as a transient tourist destination.

As Lalon’s resting place grew more commercialized and politicized, the final act of the play shows a "Lalon Complex" being built in place of the shrine. In the final scene, the audience is left perturbed as the sound of falling bricks echoes across the stage, with images of towering brick walls filling the space and burying Lalon’s Baramkhana underneath.

Image

The word "Baramkhana" derives from the Persian words "baram" (gathering) and "khana" (place). Its literal meaning is a sitting room, a gathering place, or a parlor. But in Baul philosophy, the word refers to the divine abode, the spiritual sanctuary, or the dwelling place of the Supreme Creator (Sai) within the human body and heart. Lalon Sai, Lalon Shah, Lalon Fakir—the mystic philosopher who spoke of an anti-materialistic, non-sectarian philosophy—has now become a commodity to be sold and politically appropriated.

The cast features veteran performers including Ramendu Majumdar, Ferdousi Majumdar, Tropa Majumdar, and Syed Apon Ahsan, alongside Tanzum Ara Palli, Tamanna Islam, Kausar Rajib, Abdullah Al Mamun Jewel, Rashedul Awal Shawon, Ismat Ara, Robin Basak, Ershad Hasan, Kalyan Chowdhury, Asma Hena, Poresh Acharjya, Tanvir Hossain Samdani, Mohammad Atiqur Rahman, and Shekanul Islam Shahi, among others.

The original musical compositions by a music team featuring Kartik, Bishwajit Bairagi, Tanmoy Ghosh, Sriti, Kalyan, Palli, Tanvir, and others complimented the script and took the performance to new heights. The lighting of the production was remarkable, creating an immersive atmosphere for Baramkhana; the use of different coloured lights alongside the beat of the drums was stellar.

“Baramkhana” was staged this year after a long hiatus. When asked about this, director Tropa Majumdar said it was intentional.

“The play was first staged almost 15 years ago. What I find fascinating is the audience's reaction back then compared to now,” she said. “Now we get a much better reaction. It resonates with the audience much more in recent times as opposed to when it was first staged. Honestly, it's not a pleasant feeling. I have been trying to understand why that is. Why is the audience connecting even more now? There is a sense of cultural aggression, especially since many similar incidents have happened consecutively, and people feel threatened.”

Image

“Those who exploit creativity have more foresight, and their vision reaches much further than those who create; they know exactly what actions will shift things in their favor, and they started working on it a long time ago. We are only now realizing what mistakes have been made,” she added.

“Lalon's philosophy is extremely contemporary. Lalon will remain relevant a thousand years from now. But right now, his philosophy is urgent for cultivating equality, empathy, and connection among people. I had no stronger weapon or better option than Lalon to address this. Since I have such a powerful tool, why not present it to the people again?” Majumdar noted.

“My job as a theatre practitioner is not to provide solutions, but to ask questions of the audience. I think about it in my own way. But I believe that when every individual begins to think about this separately, the possibility of finding a stronger, more sustainable solution increases,” she concluded.

“Baramkhana” does more than just retell the story of a mystic. It asks us to examine how we inherit, appropriate, and ultimately distort the legacies of those who speak of peace, secularism, and equality—those who challenge society to think differently. While it ends on a grim note, it calls for change and urges more creative thinkers to rise.