There was a nice evolutionary coincidence linked the excellent BBC Scotland television documentary marking 70 years of the Glasgow Citizens theatre screened on Wednesday, and the last performances, on Tuesday and Friday, of Tamasha Theatre Company's My Name Is . . . at Stirling's Macrobert and Dundee Rep.

In 1997 at the short-lived reincarnation of Leith Walk's Gateway Theatre, the Edinburgh International Festival presented Tamasha's partition of India play, A Tainted Dawn, alongside Suspect Culture's reputation-establishing Timeless in what was at the time quite a radical embracing of small scale contemporary touring theatre.

The recent Citizens/EIF co-production of an adaptation of Alasdair's Gray's novel Lanark that concluded the TV version of the Citz story (so far) was created by the reunited partnership from Suspect Culture of writer David Greig and director Graham Eatough. Tamasha founder Sudha Bhuchar's most recent play deals with partition of a much more personal kind, the tale of a family sundered in the glare of the media spotlight in Ausgust 2006 when12-year-old Molly Campbell decided she would live with her Muslim father in Pakistan and be known as Misbah, rather than stay with her Scottish mother in Stornoway.

Bhuchar's script is an interesting amalgam of "verbatim theatre" and a crafted drama script, as the show's fine trio of performances are of characters under different names than those we remember from the news reports. However that seems to have helped the real protagonists in the story warm to the work, as they have given the production their blessing and also come to see the play with other members of the family. It is indeed a privilege given to few to have the emotive nonsense of "jihadi father" and "unfit mother" that was reported in the first version of their story in the press corrected at all. To have it done in a more considered and accurate version of their lives that has been given the benefit of years of thought and development in workshops by a bunch of creative people with impressive track records is something of a rare gift.

But just as the new staging of Lanark had a resonance in the Scotland of 2015 that it did not have when TAG Theatre Company (the Citizens' outreach arm) performed Alastair Cording's adaptation at the Assembly for the Festival in 1995, so My Name Is. . . has much more to tell all of us now than the breaking news story of Molly Campbell ever did almost a decade ago. The cartoon definitions of Molly/Misbah's parents in the media then simply sound shallow and false in what has developed into what we must surely now acknowledge is a post-secular age for many people of many different shades of faith and belief. And however irritating militant atheists find that reality.

Just as it would be very sad if the Citizens' new lavish Lanark was not revived for more people (especially outside Scotland) to see it, there is self-evidently plenty more mileage left in the much smaller (and rather cheaper) Tamasha show. For the lessons we can all learn from it, I am sure that there is still a large and hungry audience for My Name Is . . . that it should go out and find.