The packed houses filing in to see Anwar Maqsood’s latest theatrical script are a case in point. In the tradition set by Anwar and Dawar Mehmood’s KopyKats Productions, Haaf Playt is the theatrical rendition of Anwar’s magnum opus for television in the’90’s, the then titled Half Plate.

“I don’t understand why the team at Kopykats opted to change the spellings and that too, without asking me!” laments Anwar. “Every script I write is very dear to me and I do not appreciate it when my sentences — or title, in this case — get changed. They have done a brilliant job in re-enacting the play, however.”

The title spellings, though, are not all that is different about this theatrical remake. The original cast included some of Pakistani television’s finest actors ever: Moin Akhtar, Khalida Riyasat, Jamshed Ansari, Latif Kapadia and Badar Khalil. The current play features Dawar Mehmood’s motley crew of thespians, most prominently the extremely versatile Yasir Hussain, the talented Mariam Saleem and the rollicking Zahid Ahmed. As in the original, the story revolves around a married couple that is constantly at odds, the lecherous writer Mirza Nafees Barelvi and his cantankerous wife Bano, with bursts of hilarity added in by their hapless poet son, their tenacious landlord, Bano’s earnest ex-fiance and the sultry Tamanna who leads both Mirza and his son astray with her flirtations.

Every now and then, though, the plot wavers. Certain characters have been eliminated in the stage rendition; other roles have been elongated. New dialogues have been added — some that add shades to the characters, others that were a part of the original script but had been censored by the television authorities at the time! Changes aside, the play’s still quintessential Anwar Maqsood — sated with acerbic witticisms, ingenious wordplay and riotous repartee. Dawar’s slick, watertight direction carries it through. In one scene, the incensed landlord, Butt sahab, demands his rent which prompts Kareem Barelvi, Mirza’s son, to sing Hum de dein gay, along the lines of Faiz’s Hum dekhain gay. At another point, Bano asks her husband what he is writing. Mirza, irate at being disturbed while working, replies, ‘Meray marnay ke baad tum jis say shaadi karo gee, uss ke leeyay pointers likh raha hoon’.

It is no mean feat that Yasir Hussain, as Mirza, manages to emulate the late Moin Akhtar — who originally played the role — to the tee. “I instructed Yasir to imitate Moin as much as he could and he managed to do so exceptionally,” says Anwar. “I have spent my entire career working alongside Moin and even when I saw Yasir, I felt that Moin was right there with me. The team at KopyKats Productions is young and their enthusiasm and hard work is commendable. Haaf Playt has come on to stage only about a month after my previous play with them, Sawa 14 August, ceased to be shown in Islamabad. The entire team would be up at nine in Islambad, rehearsing for Haaf Playt. And then in the evenings, they’d be there again, acting out Sawa 14 August to the audiences.”

It was this dedication that swayed Anwar towards handing over the Half Plate script to Dawar and co., even though he had earlier wanted Sania Saeed to enact the role of Khalida Riyasat on stage. “When Mariam Saleem acted out the role, I was satisfied,” says Anwar. “I think she’s acted very well. It was very important to me that this play was presented the right way.”

Anwar’s attachment to Half Plate has emotional roots. The late Khalida Riyasat approached him and asked him to write a script for her since she was dying. “I wrote the script in the next three days,” he recalls. “Khalida died 10 days after the play was aired on television. I was so happy that she got to see it. It is a solo play that I just enjoyed writing and is possibly my favourite amongst all the scripts I’ve written!”

And yet, in this remake, Anwar has altered the original script. Did he feel that these changes were needed since the play was now going to be shown on stage? “There were some changes that I made voluntarily and others that Dawar and the actors convinced me to make,” says Anwar. “I have always wanted my audience to look beyond the comedy and focus on the message that I am trying to relay. It is, in fact, incorrect for audiences to even laugh in the middle of a theatrical production. It disturbs the actors on stage and muffles their dialogues. In contrast, Dawar and his team want the audience to laugh and clap at every dialogue. They felt that some of the sentences were too complicated to be understood by modern-day audiences but I did not agree. I have always stood by my scripts and even in this case, only made changes that I believed in.”

It is his dedication to his scripts that has had the scriptwriter maestro’s plays banned on television in the past. It is this very belief that lends credibility to everything he writes. Anwar Maqsood has always written about Pakistan, for Pakistan and audiences have loved him for it. He upped the ante for satire on television from the ‘70s on and now, with four consecutive theatrical blockbusters — Pawnay 14 August, the theatrical remake of Aangan Terha, Sawa 14 August and the present Haaf Playt, which has all the makings of a hit — he, aided by Dawar’s smooth direction, has shown Pakistan just what theatre can be. He may consider it a disturbance, but the audience that is currently clapping and chortling through Haaf Playt is loving every moment.

Yet, critique has been aired from certain quarters of the National Academy of Performing Arts (Napa) that Anwar’s plays do not qualify as true theatre. “It does not matter to me,” shrugs Anwar. “I have never aspired towards any intellectual superiority. I have always written for the common Pakistani man and as long as I manage to get my message across to him, I’m happy.”

Not all ‘common Pakistanis’, however, have been lucky enough to see the enactments of Anwar’s theatrical scripts. The ticket prices — at Rs1,500 apiece — may be affordable for the plays’ affluent corporate sponsors but are considerably hefty for many others. Furthermore, while the plays are still exceptional, the novelty of Anwar and Dawar’s collaborations is wearing off.

Anwar has always preferred to work with certain actors — Moin Akhtar and Bushra Ansari come to mind — but this was in the case of television which is freely available to everybody. While the KopyKats team is talented, shouldn’t more novelty be provided for audiences that are paying Rs1,500 per ticket?

“The ticket prices are my main bone of contention with the organisers,” points out Anwar. “I want people to come in a public bus and pay a minimal amount to see my plays. Earlier, men on the road would stop me and tell me they loved my play. A paan wala would eagerly hand over a free pan to me, a florist would insist on wreathing me with a chain of flowers. This is my audience and these are the people that I write for. This is absolutely the last time that a play of mine is charged at Rs1,500!”

Does this mean that Anwar will now cease to work with Dawar Mehmood? One had earlier heard that a ‘Chauda August’ sequel was on the cards, featuring Gandhi and the Muslim League advocates. “Not right now,” says Anwar. “I want to do something that is more widely available to audiences, perhaps delve into radio. There is also a movie script that I have written and the director will begin filming it by March next year.”

And what of theatre — is the Anwar Maqsood-KopyKats alliance at an end? “No. I will continue to write for theatre — for KopyKats and for other teams as well.”

For the moment, rumour has it that KopyKats Productions is going to be working on a script written by one of their star actors, Yasir Hussain. Right now, though, their Haaf Playt — an Anwar Maqsood-Dawar Mehmood collaboration beyond par excellence — is being staged in Karachi, to be followed by shows in Lahore and Islamabad. Chortle through it, revel in it, sink into the piquant underlying messages beyond the witticisms. Never has a half plate been as delectable.