Dilnawaz: Embracing eternity through Sufi dance
In a spellbinding performance at Bangladesh Shilpakala Academy on 26 - 27 August, Dilnawaz transformed the stage into a sacred space, tracing a Sufi journey of love, devotion, and transcendence through dance
As I entered the National Theatre Hall of Bangladesh Shilpakala Academy on 27 August, the world outside felt distant, almost forgotten. The hall was wrapped in darkness, with hundreds of eyes fixed on the stage in silent wonder.
The stage was featuring 'Dilnawaz', a dance drama inspired by a Urdu short story penned by Rahat Ara Begum, one of the forgotten female voices of the 1940s' Urdu literature. Produced by Shadhona, the drama was directed by Lubna Marium, a granddaughter of the writer herself.
Dilnawaz is a haunting fable of love, longing, and spiritual awakening. It isn't a story of kings or queens, but of devotion reaching far beyond the bounds of the earthly realm.
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The stage opened not with spectacle, but with silence—the kind that pulls you inward. Then came movement, slow at first, as though a soul was beginning its journey.
Mubasshira Kamal Era steps into the role of Dilnawaz, but what unfolds is no mere dance. Dilnawaz is a humble slave in a royal court whose love for a distant prince transcended into something more than earthly longing—it became her path to the Divine.
Broadly, Dilnewaz has two parts. The first portrays love and romance, while the second part embodies self-purification. In the latter part, the stage design, lighting, costumes, and music together create an otherworldly atmosphere—making it feel like a dance of souls.
Every member of the troupe delivered an outstanding performance. Their facial expressions were flawless and spontaneous, which made the dance drama feel all the more real.
Through Dilnawaz's journey, the story gently unfolds the seven stages of Sufi love, guiding the audience step by step into the sweet, maddening intoxication of the heart. Attraction, infatuation, love, trust, worship, madness, and finally, annihilation—with each stage, another layer of self is stripped away, until only essence remains.
At one point, Era spun for ten unbroken minutes, her body caught between rhythm and stillness. In that trance, she was not simply dancing; she was embodying madness, surrender, fana—the annihilation that Sufis speak of.
"Here, annihilation does not mean physical death, but the death of the ego. Dilnawaz did not attain Shamsher, but she attained the Almighty—and her contentment in that is the very expression of her faith," Lubna Marium explained.
"Beyond this worldly life, there is another level of existence—one that can only be reached through faith. I am certain that everyone experiences it at some point. Art lifts us above worldly illusions and helps us feel the true beauty of this world and of life itself," she added.
However, it was not easy to bring this vision to life. Marium spent ten years carrying it, and six more months in rehearsals demanding nothing less than complete devotion.
Dilnawaz does not treat art as entertainment. It reclaims the stage as sacred space, reminding us that love—in its truest, most transformative form—is both the path and the destination. Like the Sufi seekers before her, Dilnawaz dances not for applause, but for transcendence. And in her spinning, she invites you too to let go, to shed your layers, and to touch the eternal.
