The Anatomy of Melancholy - By Praise Chasela
Written By: Praise Chasela
Category: Short Play
Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026
In Praise Chasela's evocative short play, "The Anatomy of Melancholy," the reader is drawn into a poignant exploration of grief and love. As part of the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, this work delves into the emotional turmoil following the loss of a loved one. Set on a river embankment, the story unfolds through the experiences of Khalia, who grapples with the death of her lover, Azariah. Through a blend of denial, anger, and eventual acceptance, Chasela captures the essence of mourning and the haunting presence of memory.
About the Work
"The Anatomy of Melancholy" by Praise Chasela is a profound exploration of grief, set against the serene backdrop of a river. The play beautifully captures the stages of mourning through Khalia's journey, interweaving elements of denial, anger, and acceptance. The narrative style is enriched with poetic dialogue and Shakespearean references, creating a deeply resonant atmosphere. The imagery of the river serves as a powerful metaphor for the fluid and often turbulent process of grieving, while the presence of Azariah as a ghostly figure adds an ethereal layer to the narrative.
The Anatomy of Melancholy
Original Submission by Praise Chasela
The Anatomy of Melancholy
By
Praise Chasela
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Synopsis
KHALIA, the main character, has recently lost her lover AZARIAH in a drowning accident. The play dissects her process of grief, focusing on the stages of denial, anger, and acceptance. In her denial, she sees her lover as a ghost (unbeknownst to her or the audience. The play takes place at the river where AZARIAH dies. KHALIA relives the day of AZARIAH’s death, but erases the memory of AZARIAH drowning.
Characters
NARRATOR: Does not interact with Khalia directly until the end. Is like death or grief personified.
KHALIA: Grieving main character, in denial and delusional about her lover’s death. In a fragile and precarious mental state, which becomes more hysterical and obvious to the audience as the story unfolds
AZARIAH: Ghost (this is not obvious to the audience from the beginning but becomes apparent as the story unfolds). Soft and sweet temperament, with a nurturing spirit
Setting
Set in the beginning of spring. The scene happens on a river embankment. The set is simple, with flowers and reeds surrounding the edge of the river.
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ONE
Curtains are closed, and the NARRATOR walk onto centre stage.
NARRATOR
It began on the day of September first, as from two hearts it seemed love burst. And in the quiet, one could hear the gentle breeze and water near. The river is where these lovers meet and share the sighs of passion’s treat. Let’s open here and let you see, two hearts from which love shall never flee.
NARRATOR moves to the left edge of the stage
Curtains open to show a river embankment with flowers and leaves surrounding the edge of the river. KHALIA and AZARIAH are seen sitting by the river with KHALIA leaning against AZARIAH with her head on AZARIAH’s shoulder and AZARIAH stroking KHALIA’S hair.
AZARIAH
Sometimes I think the river is like a funhouse mirror, the way it plays with my reflection. If I gaze down at it, it throws back at me a shifting form that disappears and reappears as the river current shifts. I fear one could go insane as the river draws and erases your self-portrait as you gaze on it. Isn’t it strange? You can come to the river for relief and find yourself forgetting what you look like. One can almost lose oneself in the depths of her waters.
KHALIA
I must rescue you from such existential crises. The solution is simple: I shall take more photos of you. And if you ever forget your own face again or the river steals your likeness, then you can gaze upon your endless albums of self-portraits. Surround yourself with endless mirrors, each boasting a splendid angel!
AZARIAH
I’d become Narcissus to have that many photos of myself! Or worse off, obsessive like a king in Versailles trapped in his hall of mirrors. Let the water make my portraits.
KHALIA
Sits up to look at AZARIAH’s face
Well then, allow me to be your mirror and rescue you from this hall of madness.
KHALIA gently cups AZARIAH’s face with one hand and gazes into her eyes.
KHALIA
You are as beautiful as the new bloom of spring, and as radiant as you were the first time we kissed. Don’t look into the river for your reflection; look into my eyes and see something true. Not a trick of light, or the swirling of water, but the image of someone loved.
AZARIAH
tuts
You look at me like you’re reading a crystal ball! I’ve got at least three new pimples on my face! And we must pray summer comes quickly, so I can look less like a ghost haunting the banks of this river! My love, I dare say you suffer from a disease of dishonesty. Even Shakespeare, the great romantic himself, was honest about his lover’s imperfections.
AZARIAH stands up and walks as if she is an actor on stage.
AZARIAH
dramatically
“My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; coral is far more red than her lips’ red; if snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; if hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head; I have seen roses damasked, red and white but no such roses see I in her cheeks”.
KHALIA gets up and prances towards AZARIAH. She grabs her arms and dances her around.
KHALIA
“My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground and yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare as any she belied with false compare.”
They laugh and collapse beside the riverbank. KHALIA turns to look at AZARIAH.
KHALIA
jokingly
You are not the only student of Shakespeare, so you will not get to cheat yourself at the sweet ending of this sonnet.
AZARIAH
I will retract his status as the great romantic of our age because it seems he too was delusional! Besides, what great lover of love would end almost all his plays about romance with at least one lover dead!
KHALIA sighs dramatically
KHALIA
Cupping AZARIAH’s face with both hands
Forget Shakespeare and imagine how glorious it is to be a pimple, only for the pleasure of sitting on your face!
AZARIAH
laughing
Oh, retire my dear mirror. We only have one job today, and it requires our immediate attention, or have you forgotten?
AZARIAH stands up and removes her dress with a childlike enthusiasm, revealing a swimming costume underneath. She turns slightly towards KHALIA, beaming!
KHALIA
Oh, but how could I forget! We are the harbingers of spring.
AZARIAH turns towards the audience in front of the river, as if about to jump in.
AZARIAH
And we must welcome her with a swim!
Blackout.
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TWO
Stage opens to low lighting and the same scene setup as previously. KHALIA and AZARIAH are lounging on the riverbank. NARRATOR speaks from offstage.
NARRATOR
It began on the day of September first, as from two hearts it seemed love burst.
Scene continues the same as scene one but with less high energy. The acting is less playful than before, giving the scene a more eerie feel.
AZARIAH
Sometimes I think the river is like a funhouse mirror, the way it plays with my reflection. If I gaze down at it, it throws back at me a shifting form that disappears and reappears as the river current shifts. I fear one could go insane as the river draws and erases your self-portrait as you gaze on it. Isn’t it strange? You can come to the river for relief and find yourself forgetting what you look like. One can almost lose oneself in the depths of her waters.
KHALIA
I must rescue you from such existential crises. The solution is simple: I shall take more photos of you. And if you ever forget your own face again or the river steals your likeness, then you can gaze upon your endless albums of self-portraits. Surround yourself with endless mirrors, each boasting a splendid angel!
AZARIAH
I’d become Narcissus to have that many photos of myself! Or worse off, obsessive like a king in Versailles trapped in his hall of mirrors. Let the water make my portraits.
KHALIA
sits up to look at AZARIAH’s face
Well then, allow me to be your mirror and rescue you from a hall of madness.
KHALIA gently cups AZARIAH’s face with one hand and gazes into her eyes, but AZARIAH turns away.
KHALIA
You are as beautiful as the new bloom of spring, and as radiant as you were the first time we kissed. Don’t look into the river for your reflection; look into my eyes and see something true. Not a trick of light, or the swirling of water, but the image of someone loved.
AZARIAH
Almost scolding and sad
You look at me like you’re reading a crystal ball! My love, I dare say you suffer from a disease of dishonesty. Even Shakespeare, the great romantic himself, was honest about his lover’s imperfections.
AZARIAH stands up and walks as if she is an actor on stage.
AZARIAH
Dramatically, but tinged with sadness
“My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; coral is far more red than her lips’ red; if snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; if hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head; I have seen roses damasked, red and white but no such roses see I in her cheeks”.
KHALIA gets up and approaches AZARIAH slowly. She grabs her arms, but AZARIAH lets go, and they move around each other as if they are dancing, but they do not touch.
KHALIA
“My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground and yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare as any she belied with false compare.”
AZARIAH falls back to sit again and sighs.
AZARIAH
Oh, Shakespeare the fraud! What great lover of love would end almost all his plays about the subject with at least one lover dead!
KHALIA moves to gently touch AZARIAH’S face; AZARIAH stays still and gazes at her sadly and almost with pity.
AZARIAH
Oh, retire my dear mirror. We only have one job today, or have you forgotten?
AZARIAH stands up and removes her dress slowly and delicately, revealing a swimming costume underneath.
KHALIA
Oh, but how could I forget! We are the harbingers of spring.
AZARIAH turns towards the audience in front of the river, as if about to jump in.
AZARIAH
And we must welcome her with a swim!
Blackout.
THREE
Romantic and low stage lighting, the previous scene is played again but with no words and mimed. It must be smooth and dreamlike. The soft light comes up to AZARIAH AND KHALIA sitting by the river again, but this time AZARIAH is lying on KHALIA and KHALIA is stroking AZARIAH’s hair.
AZARIAH moves closer to the water, away from KHALIA, and KHALIA follows and touches AZARIAH’S face to move her gaze away from the river and towards her. They briefly look at each other before AZARIAH gets up and walks to the other side of the riverbank away from KHALIA. KHALIA follows again and they dance almost a waltz but without touching and keeping eye contact. AZARIAH runs back centre stage to the riverbank and lifts her arms up like wings. KHALIA looks at her almost hopelessly.
NARRATOR
Offstage
They were harbingers of spring.
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FOUR
The stage is still dark, and the NARRATOR comes forward to sit in the front left corner of the stage.
NARRATOR
She made such lovely ripples in the water, and her laughter boomed even louder than the restless river. And I prayed this moment would never end.
The stage lights come up to the same scene. AZARIAH sits closer to the riverbank, gazing at the water.
AZARIAH
hysterical
I came to the river for relief, but I must call it a thief! If I gaze down at it, it twists and turns and distorts my reflection. Are you to play with me, dear river? Or will you throw me back my likeness unwrinkled by your magic?
KHALIA
Save yourself from this existential distress and forget not your face. Let me be your mirror and fall not to the same fate as Narcissus.
Moves to sit next to AZARIAH to cup her face; AZARIAH flinches and moves away.
KHALIA
Sadly, and softly
My love, don’t investigate the river; instead, look into my eyes.
AZARIAH slowly gets up and begins to remove her dress to reveal a swimming costume.
NARRATOR
Retire dear mirror.
AZARIAH
Almost monotone and sadly
We are harbingers of spring, and we must welcome her with a swim.
AZARIAH slowly lifts her hands as if they were wings.
NARRATOR
The longer she stays, the water grows cold. The laughs will grow stale. Look now, above the water stands an angel. The water is her home.
KHALIA
begging
Don’t let the water steal you away; let me paint your self-portrait and not her. I shall paint you as beautiful as the new bloom of spring, and as radiant as you were the first time we kissed.
NARRATOR
sharply
Oh, be quiet dear mirror! Let Shakespeare’s tragedy be left unspoken.
AZARIAH walks off-stage.
Beat
KHALIA is sitting by the riverbank alone, gazing at the water. The NARRATOR moves to stand at the back of the stage, gazing at KHALIA
NARRATOR
standing a little distance behind KHALIA
It began on the day of September first, as from two hearts it seemed love burst. And in the quiet, one could hear the gentle breeze and water near. The river is where the lovers meet to share the sighs of passion’s treat. Let's open here and let you see, two hearts from which love will flee.
KHALIA
With a quiet anger tinged with grief
Sometimes I think the river is like a funhouse mirror, the way it plays with my reflection. If I gaze down at it, it throws back at me a shifting form that disappears and reappears as the river current shifts. I fear one could go insane as the river draws and erases your self-portrait as you look at it for comfort. Isn’t it strange? I have come to the river for relief and find myself forgetting what you look like.
AZARIAH walks on stage in her costume, wet and stands furthest from KHALIA along the riverbank.
KHALIA
While gazing at her reflection in the river. Her tone becomes increasingly angry but sad
You said the water distorted your reflection, yet it seems that it swallowed you whole. I am gazing down at it here, but I cannot see your reflection anymore. I cannot look into your eyes, and suddenly I too have lost myself, disappeared in between these ripples of water.
Looks up and over to AZARIAH. She begins to shout, as she is on the verge of a sob.
Look at me! Look at me, please! Why are you doing this? Just look at me!
NARRATOR moves towards AZARIAH and wraps the blue cloth “the river” around HER, and AZARIAH begins to walk away. KHALIA crawls frantically towards her and screams into a cry.
NARRATOR
Turning to look at KHALIA and softly, and almost comfortingly.
Shh. Be quiet, dear mirror.
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FIVE
NARRATOR
It began on the day of September first, as from two hearts it seemed love burst. And in the quiet, one could hear the gentle breeze and water near.
Lights up on the NARRATOR and KHALIA sitting on stage by the riverbank. KHALIA resting her head on the NARRATOR's shoulder
NARRATOR
The river is where these lovers meet, to share the sighs of passion's treat.
Pauses
The river is where the lovers met, until the day their love had set.
KHALIA
I come to the river to commune with grief. I lay down rosemary and pansies, so you do not forget me. I break bread praying that it was not your body but mine that was sacrificed to the river that day.
And I live it over and over hoping to save you, and quietly wishing that you would not leave me again. I had to see spring turn to summer and curse the sun every day it shone while you were away! I had to welcome in the spring with wreaths and hymns.
Pauses and begins to anger.
You made me turn our secret cove of love into a memorial! You made a Groundhog Day out of my worst nightmare, and you left me alone! Why would you leave me alone? Azariah, where are you now and why have you gone away? We were by the river just yester..
Pauses and looks at the NARRATOR confused.
Was it yesterday?
She begins to look around frantically, walking around the stage.
Azariah? Azariah? Azariah, please! Azariah!
KHALIA falls to her knees, almost stifling a cry.
Azariah, I’m sorry.
KHALIA begins to sob.
NARRATOR
Moves to comfort KHALIA
Shhh.
KHALIA
Begging
I am shouting for repentance to the gods, or it seems to the wind, and my prayers have been carried off into the river and drowned the same as her. Oh, sweet silence stifle my grief and bring her back to me and better yet, take me as your sacrificial lamb. Slaughter me here and anoint me with oil. I shall build the alter here and salt this earth to sanctify this river for you. But will that save me from this guilt? Will my offering pull me away from this river and back to reality?
NARRATOR
Why did you not follow her into the water? Did your body grow cold, as hers ceased to breathe?
KHALIA
Staring blankly at the audience, as if replaying that day
The water grew cold the longer she stayed.
NARRATOR
If she were alive, would you be too?
KHALIA
Suddenly her laughing turned to silence.
NARRATOR
It was not you that drowned her breath.
KHALIA
Her breathing quickens
I did not follow her there; the water was too cold.
NARRATOR
You must begin to breathe again.
KHALIA
I pulled her out, but I was too late; I tried to trade my breath for hers.
NARRATOR
You will learn to breathe again.
The NARRATOR begins to coach KHALIA's breathing, and they begin to breathe in harmony. They continue this breathwork until the lights go down.
NARRATOR
Breathe.
NARRATOR
Breathe.
NARRATOR
Breathe.
NARRATOR
Breathe.
Lights fade to the sound of the NARRATOR and KHALIA breathing in harmony.
Curtain closes.
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FINALE
The curtains remain closed, and KHALIA walks onto stage in all black and a veil, holding flowers.
KHALIA
It began on the day of September first, as from two hearts it seemed love burst. And in the quiet, one could hear the gentle breeze and water near. The river is where these lovers met, until the day their love had set.
Light laugh as she reflects fondly about AZARIAH
You made such lovely ripples in the water, and your laughter boomed even louder than the restless river. And I prayed that moment would never end. But the water grew cold the longer you stayed, and your laughter turned to silence. I tried to trade my breath for hers, but on that day, my lover drowned, and by the river my guilt was bound. I let that day live on and on, and for my grief I was a pawn. But now at last I see the dawn, as the sun rises up and from melancholy I’m drawn.
Curtains open to the river, KHALIA walks up and places down her flowers. She stands up and pauses briefly, looking at the water.
I shall forgive the river and forgive myself, for none of us are at fault. Now close up this scene and let me rest, as I move on from this day.
KHALIA walks off stage.
Fin.
About the Competition
The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, hosted by Hashtag Kalakar, is a prestigious event celebrating the literary arts. This competition provides a platform for writers to showcase their talent and creativity, engaging audiences worldwide with innovative and thought-provoking works. Participants from various genres, including poetry, short stories, and creative writing, contribute to a rich tapestry of diverse voices and narratives.
We extend our heartfelt gratitude to Praise Chasela for sharing "The Anatomy of Melancholy" with us. This powerful short play, part of the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, offers a compelling look at the intricacies of grief and the journey towards acceptance. We thank Praise for their contribution and look forward to seeing their future creative endeavors.
About Hashtag Kalakar
Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.


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