A play about love does not need to understand love perfectly. It only needs to know where it hurts.

‘Almost Maya’ explores different shades of love through a series of short stories connected by recurring symbols, especially a single bench that becomes a waiting space, a confession box, a battlefield, and a resting place. The production is not always polished, but its emotional curiosity keeps returning to the same question: what happens when love arrives too early, too late, or in the wrong shape?

The opening act ‘Ajhai Najik’ begins under a starry sky with Nuresh Poudyal’s Nishan and Samikshya Maraseni’s Garima. After Garima confesses her love, Nishan rejects her but frames the rejection as a metaphor: the world is round, so if she keeps stepping back, she will eventually reach him again. He keeps saying “ajhai najik,” (come closer), and she keeps moving away.

It is a beautiful idea: love as distance. The stage background, music, and constellation imagery give the scene a gentle atmosphere. But the metaphor does so much work that the characters sometimes feel secondary to it. Garima’s nervousness does not fully land, and the repeated use of “Nishan” and “Garima” feels more mechanical than intimate. The scene has poetry, but not enough pulse. It also reveals one of the production’s recurring weaknesses: at times, it leans on metaphor when emotional development is needed.

‘Dukha ani Sukha’ shifts into a more contemporary setting as Sandhya (Samira Bastola) and Jeevan (Sanjit Yadav) meet at a bar after their breakup. The act captures the awkward performance of moving on, while Aaska Gauchan’s Drasta, the waitress, provides natural comic relief. However, the dialogue repeats more than it develops, making the scene feel longer than necessary.

‘Firta Deu’ is where the production begins to find its footing. Misha Budhathoki’s Rashmi arrives at Raja Babu Karki’s Lakshman’s house to ask for all the love she gave him, because she finally needs it for herself. Love, an abstract thing, is treated as something physical: it can be carried, returned, and demanded back. Budhathoki and Karki share some of the strongest chemistry in the whole show.

But the ending softens the complexity too quickly. He gives her a ring and proposes. It is dramatic, yes, but it also feels too convenient. A ring cannot automatically solve years of waiting, doubt, and emotional imbalance.

‘Kaha Gayo?’ is arguably the most mature act in the production. Mamata and Paras, played by Senika Sharma Kuinkel and Nuresh Poudyal, are a married couple searching for Mamata’s missing shoe. At first, the missing shoe feels almost comic. Then it takes shape as a metaphor for everything that has gone missing in the marriage. When Paras forgets their anniversary, the small domestic search turns into old resentment and disappointment.

Unlike some other parts of the play, ‘Kaha Gayo?’ does not float too far above real life. It feels like an actual argument between two adults. Despite a slight imbalance between the characters, it remains one of the production's clearest successes.

‘Yesle Dukhcha’ features Maya (Alju Rijal) and Sambid (Sanjit Yadav), who insists he cannot feel. His oddly specific list of fears, from bears to pretty girls, creates effective humour, and the repetition builds emotional absurdity. Still, the emotionally detached character feels familiar, and the act never pushes the idea much further.

‘Aasha ko Katha’ is one of the most beautiful ideas in the play. Aaska Gauchan’s Aasha returns after a long time to answer Dhadkan’s proposal. She does not recognise him at first and explains that she was not ready back then. When he finally reveals himself, Asha jumps with excitement, then his wife calls him home.

The act understands that love is often as much about timing as it is about feeling, though its emotional progression could have been more gradual.

Not every act manages that. ‘Usko Mutu’, with Anshu Paudel’s Mahima and Nuresh Poudyal’s Purba, is one of the weakest segments. A woman arrives at a camp to mourn her late husband. A man tries to chase her away, then discovers that her heart does not work properly and that she carries it around in a bag. The image could have been strange and powerful. Instead, it becomes rushed and difficult to believe.

The man seems to fall in love almost immediately, which makes the emotional stakes feel unearned. The reveal that she “killed” her husband by breaking his heart seems intended as a dramatic turn, but the scene does not build enough emotional weight for it to land.

The final act, ‘Dekhyau?’, featuring Istuti Kharel’s Divya and Deepika Shahi’s Rachana, moves toward a quieter kind of love. Two girls play together, and one tries to confess her feelings while the other does not understand. The idea is tender: love can exist in the simplest gestures, even when it is not recognised.

Including LGBTQIA+ affection broadens the play's view of love, but the execution feels hesitant. The performances sometimes lean into exaggeration, and the relationship remains too hidden behind misunderstanding. In a play about many forms of love, this could have been braver.

By the end, Nishan and Garima return. He is still saying “ajhai najik”, but this time she comes from the opposite side. The circular metaphor finally completes itself.

As a whole, ‘Almost Maya’ is rich in thoughtful ideas, even when they do not always become fully realised theatre. The recurring bench and kneeling motifs give the production visual cohesion, but the play often feels like separate exercises rather than one continuous journey. Stronger transitions and more emotional development would have helped many scenes land with greater impact.

That said, context matters. Most of the cast and technical crew were second-semester students with little or no theatre experience. Their ambition is evident throughout the production, and its sincerity often outweighs its unevenness.

‘Almost Maya’ succeeds most when it stops reaching for grand metaphors and simply lets its characters argue, wait, confess, or miss each other. For a student production, its willingness to experiment makes it a promising and heartfelt piece.

Almost Maya

Presented by: Ace Business School

Duration: 1 hour 30 minutes