The Boom (a play about the harms and dangers of smoking)

The Boom (a play about the harms and dangers of smoking)

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The Mutation Theater

Scene One

A large drawing room (studio) with paintings of different colours hanging on its walls. A man sits in the corner of the studio with a quill in his fingertips and seems to be engaged in colouring a painting on a table dedicated to painting..…

The man (Waseem) stands staring at the painting, talking to himself in pride....What is this, Waseem...? What is this...? An artist...an artist...an artist...in every sense of the word...The painting is...really...devastating. Seriously, devastation, devastation, devastation, devastation, devastation. Break the world..... And you will learn with people…

Waseem spins around the table in confusion....what do you call it, Waseem?...what do you call it, Waseem?.…

(His eyes shine with joy)...Ah...I got it...I call it a breakthrough...because it is indeed a breakthrough...a breakthrough in the world of art and creativity... 

Waseem remains frozen in place

The music is loud and escalating, and a beautiful girl enters the studio in a devilish dance with fast movements and fast rhythms.

The girl ends her dance with a quick dance in front of each of the wall paintings individually... The music stops as the dance ends... Waseem sits on the bench opposite his painting to put the final touches on the painting. 

For the first time, I feel that there is only one step between me and the world, and that is to put the final touch of my signature

on the painting.

A clamour surrounds Waseem as he is absorbed in his painting. 

Waseem picks up his pen and proudly signs the painting.

Wasim / Dr Wasim Al-Zahar…

Dr Wasim Al-Zahar, the king of colours, who paints his paintings with fire and smoke, the knight of the arts in every time and place.

Waseem stands up and recognises Sahla's presence.

Waseem, what is this, Sahla?

I've been here since the day you said you were about to go international. Your big dream ... the one you've been living for all your life.

Waseem: Indeed, Wahlala. I've been painting paintings for 20 years.  

Every single one of them I bought with my fingers and feathers from the market of creativity and genius and paid for it with a part of my being and a part of my life.

And every year you share a new painting of yours in the biggest exhibitions in Egypt ... and you always enchant hearts and eyes with your paintings and art, and newspapers, newspapers, magazines and television do not have a biography except your name, your paintings and your art

Social media has also been a great source of awards that you have always won. Even the critics ... considered me the founder of a new school of art ... they called it the Zahar School

Thanks to whom?

Thanks to you, of course, Sahla…

Waseem stands up and steps towards the first painting that hangs on the wall on the right-hand side

With every cigarette you drank, you would inspire a new idea ... inspired by your fire, Sahlala. As if you were a filly of smoke, flying me in the world of ideas, stealing from the stars and stealing the fragrance of the rose.

In my kingdom, you always breathed new colours of creativity mixed with the taste of tobacco, and with each breath you embraced a new nymph that taught you the meaning of art and genius.

 Waseem turning towards Sahla

Wasim/Sahla

Sahla/ Sahla Eyes

I want to confess something to you.

I know what you're going to say... you're going to say that you love me and can't do without me.

I don't just love you, I adore you, I breathe you.

Your presence even when I'm asleep.

But you're sick and the doctors said you have to stay away from me

or you'll die.

You don't know what you are to me, you are the secret of my success, you are the safety of my life, you are my colours, my feathers, my laughter and my joy.

I'm just a cigarette, nothing more.

You are not just a cigarette, Sahla, you are not just a cigarette. You're the only companion in my life who will never abandon me when I'm in distress, you're the light, you're the hope, you're the ashes that I look at every time the world becomes too much for me.

Sahla is circling around Waseem: "Let's talk, let's talk, let's drink, drink, drink, drink... life is just a cup of tea and a cigarette.  

Wasim takes out a cigarette from his cigarette packet, lights it, takes the first deep and relaxing breath. Wasim feels dizzy, takes another puff of the cigarette, the dizziness increases... he spins around, groggy.

He puts his hand on his chest in pain.

Sahla exclaims in annoyance / Malik, Waseem

Waseem, I feel a great pain in my heart, the world is spinning around me and I don't see anything ahead of me. 

I'm by your side, I won't leave you, I'm your healer, I'm your healer, I'm your doak.

Waseem screams in pain.

He kneels on the floor.

The lit cigarette falls from his trembling fingertips

Waseem tries to scream for help, but his voice is trapped, unable to scream. 

Waseem in a choked, broken voice / Ambulance, ambulance, someone call for an ambulance…

Sahla stares at the cigarette on the floor with frightened eyes

Fire, fire, fire, fire caught in the carpet...the studio is burning...the studio is burning...the studio is burning... The studio's on fire

Wasim falls to the ground as the fire rises from the cigarette and gradually spreads throughout the studio.

Satanic dances dance in all corners of the studio, accompanied by loud music with lightning rhythms. 

The paintings hanging on the wall are falling to the floor one after the other in flames while

Wasim is still lying on the floor

Scene two

Wasim is lying blindfolded on a bed in a hospital room and appears to be in a state of deep immobility or perhaps unconsciousness. At his head stands a beautiful girl in a white medical coat (Dr Inas) who seems to be busy taking his temperature with a thermometer and looks serious and interested, and at his head from the other side of the bed stands another girl in a nursing uniform (Laila the nurse) emptying the contents of a syringe into a solution bottle hanging in a nearby stand and connected to a thin tube (medical hose) with a needle attached to the end in Waseem's hand.

Dr Ines, can I ask you a question and can you answer me honestly?

Dr Ines/Ask Dr Ines

Why are you so interested in this particular case?

Dr Wasim is not an ordinary person. He is a great artist and is considered a national treasure and we should all care about him and help him, especially since his condition is very serious. 

Laila. What's next?

I am a big fan of Dr Wasim and I have always considered him my mentor and I have always learnt innovative ways of painting from him, and by the way I always follow his pages and programmes and every new thing he presents.

Dr Ines, I'm the first time I know you're interested in this subject of painting.

Not only am I passionate and interested in the world of painting, but I also discovered in my recent medical research that there is a close relationship and complementarity between certain theories 

between some of the new theories in cardiac surgery and some of the advanced techniques in modern art schools. 

I don't really understand it, but I can tell you that you deserve to be the youngest and most accomplished cardiologist in Egypt.

Waseem groans and shakes his head in pain 

Waseem in a choked voice/Uh, uh, uh.

Laila, is your artiste starting to outshine you?

Inès: Thank God, his pulse is healthy and regular, and his pressure is normal.

This is the first open-heart surgery you've done, doctor.

No, of course it's not the first or the last, but don't forget, Laila, how was his condition when we visited the hospital two months ago? 

This is the first time in my life that I have attended an operation that is considered two operations at the same time, burns plastic surgery and open heart surgery.

Wajih, the plastic surgeon, enters the room

He deserves what he got... I advised him and told him to stop smoking... cigarettes will kill you... you have a heart condition. 

He wouldn't listen. He was always stubborn. "Dr Wajih, the world is just a cup of tea and a cigarette.  And a pill.  

Waseem opens his eyes and whispers, "I'm done, Wajih, I'm done.

On the contrary, you have started again. And the blessing of Dr Ines. Your operation was a great success, Finan.

My paintings are all burnt…

Wajih, thank God that you sold me to you at the right time, and I was the reason for your rescue. 

Waseem / And my hands that I paint with and my legs too ... they're gone forever.

Ines, you can paint again. with your left hand

Laila/ You can reach the world you've always dreamed of.

Wassim, please leave me alone, leave me alone.

The light gradually recedes ... and a dim light remains ... Everyone leaves and Wasim remains alone ... The sound of faint music comes from afar and gradually escalates to loud music, to which Sahla enters, dancing a fast-paced, fast-paced, devilish dance …

The dance ends... Waseem tries to get up happily.

Wasim/Sahla...you're coming

Sahla / Of course I came ... and I will never get away from you

Waseem / Wahshatini

.You too. ...... Night, play... Drink, drink, drink, drink... This is the world... A cup of tea and a cigarette.

Waseem takes a packet of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket... lights his cigarette.

The sound of a racing heartbeat is heard, getting faster with each breath Wasim inhales... Wasim staggers, feeling dizzy, and almost falls to the floor. 

Inès enters the room quickly ... turns on the light ... runs out.

What are you doing, Wasim, are you crazy? You just had open heart surgery yesterday, what you're doing is suicide, suicide, suicide.

I'm done, I'm done, I'm done, I'm done, I'm done. I'm done…

Scene 3

A banquet hall with a stage behind it.

A billboard (banner) that reads 

"Honouring the visual artist Dr. Waseem Al-Zahar

 Dr Waseem Al-Zahar) Sitting next to the 

Waseem is sitting next to the podium in a wheelchair

wheelchair for people with special needs and next to him

next to him is Inas, behind them are 

Wajih and Laila. Standing at the podium

Ceremony introductions 

Mr Minister Governor, honourable audience.

We are pleased to hear the speech of the shining star of today's ceremony, Dr Waseem Al-Zahar, winner of the International Prize for Magic Feather…

The hall resounds with continuous heavy applause and whistling followed by enthusiastic shouting

Inas stands up and pushes Waseem's wheelchair to the back of the stage.

Waseem is in a state of elation mixed with tears of joy

Waseem/Enharda, I'm so happy because God has fulfilled a lifelong dream I've been wishing for... and of course, thanks to our Lord first and then 

to my great wife, Dr Inas Amin. 

The room erupts in applause and whistling, followed by enthusiastic shouting.

She is my inspiration ... I learnt from her the most important thing in my life.

I learnt what it means to triumph over oneself and restrain oneself.

That's why I decided this month to donate a cheque for one million French francs, the value of my badminton prize money, to the

No and a thousand thousand no's to smoking 

The auditorium erupts in applause and whistling, followed by continuous enthusiastic shouting, followed by absolute silence, with everyone standing still.

The light gradually recedes, except for a dim light... A loud, crescendoing music enters the room, to which she enters with a devilish dance.

The dance ends in front of the stage in a circular focus of light. Sahlala falls to the ground, announcing her defeat and brokenness.

Done by the grace of GodScene One

A large drawing room (studio) with paintings of different colours hanging on its walls. In the corner of the studio, a man sits with a quill in his fingertips and seems to be busy colouring a painting on a table dedicated to painting..…

The man (Wasim) stands staring at the painting, talking to himself in pride....What is this, Wasim...? What is this...? An artist...an artist...an artist...in every sense of the word...The painting is...really...devastating. Seriously, devastation, devastation, devastation, devastation, devastation. You will break the world..... And you will learn with people…

Waseem spins around the table in confusion....what do you call it, Waseem?...what do you call it, Waseem?.…

(His eyes shine with joy)...Ah...I got it...I call it a breakthrough...because it is indeed a breakthrough...a breakthrough in the world of art and creativity... 

Waseem remains frozen in place

The music is loud and escalating, and a beautiful girl enters the studio in a devilish dance with fast movements and fast rhythms.

The girl ends her dance with a quick dance in front of each of the wall paintings individually... The music stops as the dance ends... Waseem sits on the bench opposite his painting to put the final touches on the painting. 

For the first time, I feel that there is only one step between me and the world, and that is to put the final touch of my signature

on the painting.

A clamour surrounds Waseem as he is absorbed in his painting. 

Waseem picks up his pen and proudly signs the painting.

Wasim / Dr Wasim Al-Zahar…

Dr Wasim Al-Zahar, the king of colours, who paints his paintings with fire and smoke, the knight of the arts in every time and place.

Waseem stands up and recognises Sahla's presence.

Waseem, what is this, Sahla?

I've been here since the day you said you were about to go international. Your big dream ... the one you've been living for all your life.

Waseem: Indeed, Wahlala. I've been painting paintings for 20 years.  

Every single one of them I bought with my fingers and feathers from the market of creativity and genius and paid for it with part of my being and part of my life.

And every year you share a new painting of yours in the biggest exhibitions in Egypt ... and you always enchant hearts and eyes with your paintings and art, and newspapers, newspapers, magazines and television do not have a biography except your name, your paintings and your art

Social media has also been the world's biggest source of awards that you've always won. Even the critics ... considered me the founder of a new school of art ... they called it the Zahar School

Thanks to whom?

Thanks to you, of course, Sahla…

Waseem stands up and steps towards the first painting that hangs on the wall on the right.

With every cigarette he drank, he was inspired by a new idea... inspired by your fire, Sahla. As if you were a pony of smoke, flying me in the world of ideas, stealing from the stars and stealing the fragrance from the roses.

By/Ehaabmohamed hasan

                                                Done by the grace

 of God

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