January 2, 2026 — Today, the dust in the industrial lanes of Sahibabad feels a little heavier. It has been thirty-seven years since the stones fell, since the iron rods struck, and since the voice of a generation was silenced in a hospital bed. But if you listen closely to the rhythm of the dholak in any public square in India, you will hear him. You will hear Safdar Hashmi.
The Man Who Chose the Dust over the Spotlight
Safdar Hashmi was a man of letters, a scholar of English literature, and a soul who could have easily claimed the comfort of a university podium or the glamour of a national stage.
In 1973, he co-founded Jana Natya Manch (JANAM). He didn't want an audience that checked their watches in plush velvet seats; he wanted the man with grease-stained hands and the woman carrying the weight of a household on her shoulders. He stripped theatre of its curtains and its ticket booths, turning the pavement into a sanctuary of truth.
A Death Foretold in a Play
The irony of Safdar’s end is a tragedy no playwright could have scripted. On New Year’s Day, 1989, JANAM was performing Halla Bol (Raise Your Voice!) in Jhandapur. The play was a fierce defense of workers' rights, a direct challenge to the "goondaism" and corruption that plagued the industrial belt.
As the actors moved in a circle, a mob armed with a political mandate and blunt weapons descended. They didn't just want to stop a play; they wanted to break the spirit of resistance. Safdar stood his ground, protecting his troupe, until the blows to his head became too much. He passed away the following day, January 2.
The Greatest Performance in History
The murderers thought that by killing the man, they would kill the movement. They were wrong.
Forty-eight hours later, in what remains perhaps the most defiant act in the history of art, Moloyashree Hashmi—Safdar’s widow and comrade—returned to the blood-stained spot in Jhandapur.
That day, the play didn't just end; it became immortal.
The Legacy: A Thousand Voices Rising
JANAM’s contributions redefined the very grammar of Indian protest. Through plays like Machine, they turned the human body into a cog, showing the mechanical cruelty of capitalism. Through Aurat, they gave a face to the invisible struggles of the Indian woman.
| The JANAM Philosophy | The Impact |
| Breaking the Fourth Wall | Direct, face-to-face dialogue with the masses. |
| Minimalism | Using nothing but a red banner and the human voice. |
| Cultural Resistance | The birth of SAHMAT, a shield for artistic freedom. |
Why We Still Cry "Halla Bol"
Today, January 2 is more than a death anniversary; it is the National Day of Street Theatre. Safdar’s spectacles are gone, but his vision is everywhere. He is in the student protesting for a fairer future, the artist refusing to be censored, and the worker demanding dignity.
Safdar Hashmi taught us that theatre is not a mirror to reflect reality, but a hammer with which to shape it. The blood on the asphalt in 1989 didn't wash away; it became the ink for every protest poster printed since.
