Order of Another World

Order of Another World

Excerpt: Because I am afraid. I have been afraid all my life. I don’t have anyone to go to when I reach New Delhi. The city must have changed in twenty-five years. So much time has passed.

Characters:

Crowd
Yadav (Minister)
Jagannath (The Minister’s Brother)
Sunny (Assistant)
Singh (A Retired Bureaucrat)
Patta (Agitator)
Satvir (Servant)
Dayanand (Railway Employee)
Bama (A Thief)

ACT 1 Scene 1

New Delhi Railway Station, platform 16.

Upon their return to India from a western nation, a minister and his assistant are waiting on the platform for a very special guest to take with them on their journey. Regular announcements are being made about the trains’ departure by the station announcer whose voice is dull and tired.

Announcement: Train from New Delhi to Hoshgram will depart at its scheduled time 8:45 am. All its passengers are requested to board the train from platform 16.

The minister and his assistant have not yet woken up from their dream escape to Europe.

Assistant: What a beautiful city Brussels was?

Minister: A gem!

Assistant: Its beauty is still nothing compared to our home which awaits us. How my eyes have longed for the beauty of my village once again.

Yadav: Home is alright, needs a bit of work, don’t you think? Brussels was fantastic.

Sunny: Absolutely, it will get there one day. In you, it has one of the most caring ministers. You went to Brussels, on behalf of the party so that your people might benefit. You have felt that schools in your village needed to be better if society is to transform and so you went to learn from the Europeans how to improve our education system. To act with purpose is indeed a rare gift.

Yadav: Our schools have, for so long, given birth to only uneducated fools, my own brother is an example. He has promised to greet us with garlands when we reach village Hoshgram.

Sunny: It is an entirely different matter however that you yourself have studied abroad.

Yadav: It is a matter of pride that we have worked day and night to give our daughters an all girls’ public school in the heart our village. They will not have to cross the river and walk for hours in soaked clothes to learn science and history. I have always wondered if my people love me, I have always yearned to earn their trust. They have put me in power because I promised them an equal opportunity. I might not have been able to give them proper representation in my politics, of that I am aware, women are underrepresented, backward classes are underrepresented, but education will make people see my circumstances in a different perspective. I have often found my hands tied in this matter. I am fully aware of my limitations.

Sunny: Times have changed indeed. I dare not imagine the tragedy if the party loses election this year.

Yadav: Our party will win the election.

Sunny: So long as you are our leader, by god’s will, the election will be a success.

Yadav: I have love in my heart for our people and our beautiful land but I know no one who loves it better than you, huh Sunny?

Sunny: My family has been citizens of Hoshgram for four generations. No one has shown more loyalty to the cause of this party than my family. My great grandfather fought the British with his bare hands in the quila by the side of your great grandfather. Those were the days of the mutiny, the village was nothing then, it is quite the sight now, but you… you are the heir of a dynasty.

Yadav: I remember my father had tears in his eyes when he first told me and my brother about the origin of this party. He would have been thrilled to see Brussels. What a lovely land it was.

Sunny: Your father took such good care of his people.

Yadav: I have to make up for his mistakes though, like every man, he too has made few mistakes. Our land is truly divided along the lines of ideology.

Light rises at the back. Passengers have started taking their seats. Dayanand, a young railway employee, appears in the leftmost compartment of the train. He will attend to all of them during the course of this journey. He is handing out the packets he is carrying. He has truly found divine happiness in being of service to others.

Yadav: I do admit I am nowhere near god but like god I have never wished ill on people. It is impossible to imagine that even god could only do good deeds forever and ever without error. Our imagination is slave to humanitarianism but it has served our party well. I want the generations after me to think about the environment, the trees and the rivers. I have a gigantic task of tackling poverty, hunger and hardship before me. I am a visionary in predicting this picture of their world and its problems. I cannot leave such pains for god to soothe.

Sunny: Devotion only ever works to save people from despair and hopelessness. It is not whole in itself. It can never be.

Yadav: God does not belong to everyone. It takes immense wealth to be near god in this nation. Our world is broken with poverty. Injustice and inequality is in trend. Leave out all that! (His tone changes to glee) Guess what’s on my mind?

Sunny: (Confused by the sudden change in tone) I don’t know.

Yadav: I told you I am cooking for our dear guest today! I am excited to see my dear old friend!

Sunny: (Aside) I’ve never seen him cook. (Aloud) I still don’t understand. What’s the need for you to cook the meal yourself? We have men here who will make our meals for us.

Yadav: To create with one’s own labor is the real fruit of all labor. I have planned a special lunch today, especially for our guest to appreciate my flair for the sublime. Dear Mr. Singh must feel like he has tasted something magical when he sits down for lunch.

Sunny: So it is final you will cook.

Yadav: We are meeting today after seven long years and look what a lovely morning it is for that. If there is anything I can do to make the date more memorable I would do it. I know that he is known for his love for three things.

Sunny: What’s that?

Yadav: Women, food and poetry! Food, dear Sunny! That is what I’ll make him.

Sunny: Isn’t it enough the two of you have poetry in common? I’m certain he would have settled for an ode on the celebration of nature, but I see a tiny problem, minister.

Yadav: What is that?

Sunny: How in the world will you, cook?

Yadav: Inside the train, on the journey.

Sunny: In this train?

Yadav: Yes.

Sunny: While it is moving?

Yadav: Yes.

Sunny: (Aside) Angrez Chale Gaye Apni Aulad Chhord Gaye. (Takes another deep sigh in confusion, speaks aloud) Well, supposing we hijack the pantry for a couple of hours why would you still want to get your own two hands dirty?

Yadav: Grandeur! I will cook to please our guest, why else? You know I have my ways to please people.

Sunny: (Aside) One trip to Europe and our minister is addicted to grandeur. (Aloud) What will you gain?

Yadav: He might have a change of heart if he learns that I have prepared this one meal for him myself.

Sunny: Do our circumstances need Mr. Singh’s change of heart?

Yadav: Yes, yes. I’ve heard he is looking to expand his business. His wife has been dead over twenty years. He has retired from service after a ghastly spell with the government. He has grown lonely and his business is the only thing keeping him going. His children don’t respect his efforts because as a person he is deeply flawed. Rumor is that he is looking to make a heavy investment. I am aiming to bring home that wealth.

Sunny: Minister, you are such a tease. Come now let us not joke about a man of honor. I’ve heard all he has got is a small mango orchard. How will such a man run an enterprise?

Yadav: Men like him can run an empire, Sunny. You must beware of them. Yes. Now he is looking to expand it into a farm, live in a farm house, raise a few animals, that kind of stuff. He will be a retired officer after all.

Sunny: Wonderful.

Yadav: I am thinking we can sell him some land.

Sunny: So what will you cook to lure your bait?

Yadav: (Plainly) Let us make mutton biryani! I had asked Mr. Singh’s servant over the phone to buy a goat and some supplies. You go and speak with whoever is in-charge of the pantry that we will be needed it. 

Sunny: I’ll go and talk to the man.

Yadav: Go and return quickly.

Sunny: I’ll only be a moment.

The assistant goes inside the coach to Dayanand and practically harasses him to get the space in the pantry and quickly returns.

Sunny: It is settled then minister. The pantry will be vacated whenever you are ready. Oh. (He clutches his head) But is there any word from Mr. Singh? The train will leave in fifteen minutes.

Yadav: I don’t believe he has reached… Why this could mean trouble Sunny… If he misses the train we will not have a chief guest for the inauguration. More importantly, when will I get to speak with him about the farm?

Sunny: I’m sure it won’t come to that minister. As for inauguration I had spoken with Professor Bose before leaving for Brussels to be our back up chief guest. He honestly hasn’t anything better to do.

Yadav: (In frustration) How will Professor Bose with that limp of his be able to do the things we had planned for Mr. Singh? No. We will speak with the driver of this train and insist the journey starts at a later time.

Sunny: But that will cause inconvenience to so many people. Passengers have already flocked the train.

Yadav: Fine then. We’ll have the history teacher.

Sunny: We will get better publicity with the locals with Professor Bose being a cripple and all that. Shall we cancel the lunch?

Yadav: I think we will have to now. It wasn’t just for the people after all.

Suddenly, a fine gentleman enters the platform. He seems to be running short of breath. He signals his servant to load his luggage on the train. The servant has possession of a few bags and a goat. He pulls the goat inside the train.

Yadav: (Cheerfully) The goat is here… Over here Mr. Singh! We are over here! Can he see us, Sunny Ji? Go fetch him. Why are you still standing here?

The Assistant launches at once through the crowd to greet Mr. Singh with smiles and handshakes. The minister follows him. Mr. Singh is a retired civil servant and a renowned poet of Indian English.

Yadav: Hello Mr. Singh! How are you! It’s a pleasure to see you. I hope you are doing alright.

Mr. Singh: Oh it is a delight to be with you today, what a lovely morning. Isn’t it? I’ve brought you your supplies.

Yadav: Thank you, thank you. How much should I pay you for them?

Mr. Singh: Oh don’t be foolish… You are the age of my children. Pay my servant something. Don’t give him too much. He is a dirty old son of a bitch.

Sunny pays Mr. Singh’s assistant.

Yadav: Oh, and how are they doing, Mr. Singh, your children?

Mr. Singh: They are dead to me! Help me get away from such a life Yadav.

Yadav: (Taken by surprise) Okay then… That’s all the more reason to settle scores between us. Come let’s find your seat. (They begin walking) I’ll be cooking us some fine biryani, I hope you will like that. (He looks into his wrist watch). Tell me Mr. Singh what is more poetic, to be aware of the reflection of the moon on the surface of a river or to reach for such reflection with your own hands in the hopes of reaching the moon?

Mr. Singh: It is a matter of courage. I do not find courage poetic. When compared to nature, courage is simply nothing.

Yadav: Sometimes it is not so much about knowing as much as it is about being able to risk your life.

Mr. Singh: If it is a matter of life and death, can courage distinguish between the two? It is wiser to observe and reflect. Sunny Ji, please hold my hand Sunny Ji. I think my ankle is going to turn inside out.

Sunny: Your pain still hasn’t found its medicine I see Mr. Singh. I am sure village Hoshgram will surprise you. The village has so many Hakims that sickness has left the people to die in peace. Ever since our minister has taken charge of the village the people are in heaven. The minister has planned to set up a hospital. It should be operational by the end of this year.

Mr. Singh: I’m sure I’ll see what a wonderful paradise Hoshgram has become since the minister’s election.

Yadav: How did you get so late Mr. Singh? I was worried you wouldn’t come at all.

Mr. Singh: I’ve travelled far to be here with you minister, please accept my apology for putting you under such a predicament. I’m finally here. Let’s find my seat.

The train is heard whistling and stage is dark.

 

 

ACT 1 Scene 2

Light fades in. The train is moving. The minister is sitting on his berth. His assistant is carefully inspecting their luggage.

Yadav: Why are you crying?

Sunny: I am not crying. I’ve come back from the pantry. I have sliced the onion as you asked me too.

Pause.

Sunny: It is much cooler here. The pantry is burning up.

Pause.

Sunny: What is it, minister? What are you thinking?

Yadav: Victor was truly the nicest fellow. We would have been lost in Brussels without him. What a strange world the western world is. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I would have hardly believed the things that pretty city is made of. It is so unlike our cities. I found beauty in those buildings standing there. What may I say of their culture and the people there?

Sunny: (Interrupts him) I could never even have dreamed I would one day see Europe with my own two eyes. There was so much food at the summit and everyone was eating with grace. I ate so much. I even saved a few things in my bag for later.

He shows the minister packets of biscuit and coca-cola.

Sunny: My eldest daughter loves biscuits and my youngest one loves cola…

Yadav: (Looking onto his own homeland out of the window with pride) Europeans sure do love their alcohol don’t they? (Pauses abruptly) Will you check on Mr. Singh once again? I hope he isn’t uncomfortable in his berth.

Sunny: I’d checked on him only fifteen minutes ago. He was soothing the pain on his ankle with an ointment. He’d feel bothered if I went again surely.

Yadav: Ah, then go after ten minutes and see if he is feeling hungry. Has the goat been butchered?

Sunny: Yes minister.

Yadav: Speak a little louder Sunny Ji. It isn’t like you have committed robbery. What’s with the hush-hush?

Sunny: Pardon me, minister.

Yadav: Fine. Did you find it difficult to butcher the little thing?

Sunny: None whatsoever. Although…

Yadav: Although?

Sunny: The railway boy was insisting on not doing it inside the train. In fact he was threatening to call the station in charge. He said, “There will be blood”.

Yadav: (Looking into one of his books) You took care of that for him I suppose.

Sunny: He was trembling at the sight of blood. How unfortunate!

Yadav: I will be going to marinate the mutton now myself. (Suddenly clutches his head) Oh but how could I forget?

Sunny: Is everything alright minister?

Yadav: Call that boy here right now.

The assistant leaves to call the boy.

Yadav: I’ve had a grand idea.

The coach attendant enters, the assistant follows.

Dayanand: Good Morning Minister Sir.

Yadav: Sunny Ji has told me you were causing all kinds of problems when he was butchering the goat.

Dayanand: But… It’s done now… Isn’t that what matters to you the most?

Yadav: Hmm… You are an intelligent one.

Dayanand: Apologies. I…

Sunny: There is nothing to fear dear boy. Our minister is warm hearted. He didn’t mean anybody harm.

Dayanand: My bosses…

Yadav: See Sunny Ji! The poor man is afraid of his bosses. There is always a way of saying things. Isn’t there boy?

Sunny: You should learn the art from the minister. He is after all a master at telling the truth. He will not let anyone harm you.

Yadav: The reason I asked for you was so you could tell me how many passengers are travelling in this coach.

Dayanand: Three, minister.

Yadav: And in the coach ahead of us?

Dayanand: Nearly ten.

Yadav: Nearly? Are they ten or no?

Dayanand: Yes. Absolutely minister.

Sunny: Then why did you say nearly? Our minister doesn’t like approximations. Speak to him in exact terms.

Dayanand: I’m sorry.

Yadav: No, that’s okay. How about in the coach behind us? How many people travel there?

Dayanand: Five are with us at the present and three will board at the next station. The coach has a capacity for ten people in all.

The Minister signals his assistant to lean forward and whispers something into his ears. The assistant nods as if he has understood.

Yadav: After two hours I will be hosting a wonderful lunch for twenty five people. You are invited to the event and so are the passengers in the coach ahead of and after ours.

Dayanand: Why thank you minister, but how will we do that? How will we fit over twenty people in here? There’s hardly any room. What will happen?

Yadav: What do you mean what will happen? In fact that’s one thing to be seen what will happen. Can’t the others come on short notice, pick up plates, eat whatever I’m making and leave? That’s all you need to know. You aren’t any different to me than the rest just because you are a railway boy. It won’t turn into a stampede, I promise you that much.

Sunny: That’s a fine idea minister, what a charitable mind you have.

Dayanand: Fine minister. I’ll make the announcements. It’s just that…

Yadav: Yes?

Dayanand: It’s a bit unusual.

Yadav: You will thank me for it once you’ve tasted the biryani I make. Has the pantry been vacated?

Dayanand: Not yet minister.

Yadav: I order the pantry to be vacated immediately.

Dayanand: But what about the rest of the train?

Yadav: There is only so much we can cook. We can’t feed the whole train if that’s what you insist.

Dayanand: When will I cook food for the rest of the people?

Sunny: Minister, give this man some money, for god’s sake, so that he can buy food at the next station for the rest of the people.

Yadav: Oh yes, take as much you like. I will not object.

Dayanand: There might not be enough at the station…

Sunny: (Yells really loudly) …So why don’t you do something to please our dear minister!

Yadav: I want the pantry vacated and that is the end of that.

The attendant taking the money leaves the two of them alone.

Yadav: Sunny Ji, something has come to my notice. You only ever spend my money.

Sunny: If I don’t make you spend your money I don’t think it will get spent at all.

Yadav: Ah well, let’s go to the pantry car and cook something delicious for our special guest. God has given me this chance to be as good a host as Mr. Victor of Brussels.

Sunny: Mr. Singh will definitely fall for your grand gestures. Having twenty five people lunch together isn’t a common man’s feature. By the end of today’s journey you would have turned Mr. Singh’s heart. I’m sure that is all that matters to you.

Yadav: I want to see whether Mr. Singh’s heart is the kind to be overturned. There are two types of men in this world after all.

Stage is dark.

 

 

ACT 1 Scene 3

Light. Train has stopped at a station. Mr. Singh is sitting all by himself, lonesome, looking out the window onto the rail track. He’s still caressing his ankle. A bird flies to his window side, sits there and starts tapping on the glass with its beak. He enjoys it for sometime but then later it begins to annoy him a lot. He pulls the curtain at his window but the bird doesn’t go away. He pounds the glass with his fist several times but it does not make any difference. Instead he ends up hurting his fist. He gives up and folds his arms in disappointment. The Attendant appears at the leftmost coach announcing to each passenger individually that the lunch today will be served by the minister. He is seen slowly moving towards Mr. Singh. As each passenger draws the curtain shut to his face the attendant puts on a new smile every time for the next announcement and moves on. He reaches Mr. Singh.

Dayanand: Good Afternoon. Today’s lunch will be served at seat 2 of coach A1 by Yadav Ji.

Mr. Singh: Yes. Listen…

Dayanand: Yes sir, how may I help you?

Mr. Singh: Can you hear that?

Dayanand: What’s that? The tapping, is it?

Mr. Singh: Yes, it’s a bird. It’s tapping at my window constantly. I want it to stop. It is driving me mad. Please go on the otherside and shoo it away for me. I’ve got a terrible sore in my ankle else I’d have done it myself.

Dayanand: (Aside) Seems like, everyone here will do everything on their own. (Aloud) It’ll stop once the train starts moving. (Looks at his wrist watch) It shouldn’t be long now.

Mr. Singh: I see. What’s your name?

Dayanand: Dayanand.

Mr. Singh: Dayanand. Come sit here with me for a minute.

Dayanand: I have work to do, sir.

Mr. Singh: I see you are worried about your work. I understand that you are not one to run away from work. Then why won’t you do my work? An old man like me… I’ve served this country for thirty five years and I can’t have a minute for myself… I’ve exhausted my whole life listening to the pains of others and now I have nobody who will listen to my needs.

Dayanand: No sir! That is not what I meant. (Impatiently) Every man is a character.

He sits.

Mr. Singh: Dayanand, I’m at a strange turn in my life. I’m beginning to feel like no one cares about me, not even my own children. You see this leg of mine? It’s been troubling me for over six years now. It pains so much sometimes that I honestly feel like killing myself. I still limp around foolishly so that I wouldn’t feel so terribly lonely about having wasted my time in this world. I think my time is up, you know.

Dayanand: Not at all uncle.

Mr. Singh: Uncle! (He laughs and laments at the same time)

Dayanand: Look at you. You seem to have everything in life. Your clothes seem expensive. People must’ve treated you with respect all your life. These are things I can never have.

Mr. Singh: What did it boil down to in the end? Huh? I am unable to live the life I dreamed of.

Dayanand: What did you think life was going to be? If you don’t mind me asking…

Mr. Singh: I suppose I should have bought a respectable piece of land. But my friends, my family turned out better than myself. I didn’t want five if they had fifteen. I wanted more than everyone else was getting. That was not to be.

Dayanand: It wasn’t enough you had respect for yourself? I’d shoot a man if it brought me respect.

Mr. Singh: No. People don’t respect other people. They despise them. People only respect riches. Here, I am unable to own a farm and spend the rest of my days in the beautiful cradle of nature. Alas, it’s all gone down the drain. It numbs my pain to empathize with their destiny.

Dayanand: Looks like you really want to live in a quiet world. In search of peace you will have to go to a different world I’m afraid. I don’t see any peace of mind here. Well, there must be something you feel good about.

Mr. Singh: (Ignoring the tapping on the window) Yes, there is one thing… I consider myself lucky I only suffer from one bad leg and not in both of them.

Dayanand: What could have been worse?

Mr. Singh: Worse would have been if I had had a hearing impediment. The only thing which brings joy to my heart is listening to the troubles of people less fortunate than me. It is the biggest part of being a human being, I believe, to lend an ear to somebody who needs to talk about the miseries in their lives. So I thank you for listening to me so patiently.

The train moves all of a sudden.

Dayanand: Oh no, the food! I had to pick it up. What will the people eat? They will definitely kill me. Hunger can drive a man to murder. I have to rush Mr. Singh. It was nice to meet you, good day.

With the attendant gone Mr. Singh turns to the window and flings the curtain open. He is discouraged to see that the bird is still tapping on the window. As the train gains speed the bird loses its stand and falls behind. Mr. Singh sighs in relief. But only after a short while the bird appears again. This time it’s fluttering harder than ever to keep up with Mr. Singh. The old man falls into a state of wonder at the sight of this bird racing with a mighty train. Once the train gathers pace the bird falls behind once and for all. Mr. Singh is finally at peace but in no time he begins to miss the little bird.

The attendant was unable to pick up food for the rest of the coaches and so those people had no food for their journey.

Stage is dark.

ACT 1 Scene 4

Light. In the pantry the minister and his assistant are cooking while the train is moving.

Yadav: Sunny Ji, it is now time for the masala. Pass me everything we have.

The assistant passes the masala to the minister and immediately the minister falls into a wild sneezing fit. Everything the minister attempts to do from this point onward is accompanied by the wildest sneezes. The minister bounces around the pantry trying to hold onto something for support but things keep slipping out of his hands and he keeps stumbling and falling. The assistant tolerates it for sometime but then feels the need to step in. He grabs the minister by his shoulders.

Sunny: Minister, are you alright?

Yadav: I don’t think so Sunny Ji. It’s been such a long time since I cooked that I forgot I am slightly allergic to masala. When I was a child every time I touched masala I ended up having a… aachoo… a… aachoo… a sneezing… aachoo… But it was never this… aachoo… bad.

Sunny: A sneezing fit?

Yadav: Yes.

Sunny: Let me take over from here. I think I know what to do.

Yadav: (Screams) No! (Whilst sneezing regularly) It’s supposed to be a lunch prepared by me. It cannot be any other way.

Sunny: How about you instruct me.

Yadav: It’s not the same thing. (Sneeze)

Sunny: Then what should we do.

Yadav: It’s only the masala that makes me sneeze. I’m okay doing the rest of the things. (Sneeze)

The time these two took to put masala in the biryani the minister had sneezed all over the rice, the utensils, the pantry, his hands, the assistant’s hands, his face, his clothes and everywhere else.

Yadav: We can’t give up now. We are almost done. Pass me the lid.

Sunny: Here minister.

Yadav: The lid goes on top and with it comes the end to the… aachoo…

Sunny: Sneezes.

Yadav: What can I say? I hope everybody like it. Call the railway boy.

The railway boy steps in.

The Assistant and the railway boy lift the pot full of biryani together and carry it to the minister’s berth. This catches the eye of the public and there is much uproar. Then the assistant goes to fetch Mr. Singh.

Later, Mr. Singh ate sitting on the minister’s seat with his hands. To get a good photograph the minister fed the babies on the train with his own hands, without washing them. The people came and they took their share of the lunch, they went back feeling happy. Everyone ate the mutton biryani barring two. After a while the train started moving again.

Yadav: Mr. Singh, my close associates have told me you wish to buy a piece of land. I’ve heard you wish to make farmers grow crops on such land. If this is true I will sell you land in my village. I will give you the best farmers we have. Buy as much land you need and at whatever rate you like. Do not refuse this offer.

Mr. Singh: I cannot accept your offer.

Sunny: Why Mr. Singh? You will not get a more generous offer than this in the entire country… Why must you refuse?

Mr. Singh: I have no one I would pass the land on to as inheritance.

Yadav: You are not thinking of today Mr. Singh. Land cannot be bought with just money. It will daily soak the sweat and blood of farmers. No matter who inherits the land after you die, no rain will ever wash away those stains from that land where they will rest in the evening, when they are done with their work. Their children will learn to farm on your land and so will their children if they are fortunate. My party does not have the money our village needs to harvest well. We need you today to do the right thing. Leave it behind for the people when you are gone. I’m sorry if I’ve unknowingly said anything insensible.

Mr. Singh: Minister there is something hopeful about you.

Yadav: I promise hope and isn’t hope for everyone?

Mr. Singh: Yes, of course, there is nothing wrong in what you are saying. It will not matter whether I buy that land or don’t buy it. It won’t go anywhere. The government has only recently started paying attention to your village but soon the money might stop flowing in like that, money needs to be spent in people’s welfare.

Yadav: We have got no time to lose and it often hurts us most when we lose something we never had, am I right Sunny Ji?

Sunny: (Looks at his wrist watch) In twenty minutes we will be in Hoshgram Mr. Singh. The train will soon be whistling as it is entering the platform. You’ll see Mr. Singh, our village isn’t much compared to any European city… But it deserves everything. It deserves those schools, those farms, those post offices and those unselfish minds such as your own.

Yadav: What do you say Mr. Singh, is Sunny Ji the hero I suppose him to be or not?

Mr. Singh: He is quite patriotic.

Yadav: …and isn’t that poetic?

Stage is dark.

 

ACT 2

Scene 1

The train reaches Hoshgram railway station. A crowd has gathered at the platform to receive the minister and his chief guest. Banners of the Teach India campaign are standing tall. Mr. Singh along with the minister and his assistant are met with a thunderous roar by the public, cries of triumph thump through the chests of men. First and foremost member there to welcome the minister is his brother Jagannath. Behind him are two quarreling men of the village Patta and Satvir. A few other ordinary characters can be seen to give the crowd an appearance worthy of grandeur.

Jagannath: Baba! You are home, at last! It’s so good to see you again.

Yadav: Jagannath, brother!

Jagannath: Sunny Ji! You have kept Baba safe in Europe. I am happy with you. The party is happy with you. Welcome home.

Sunny: Ah! Hoshgram I missed you. Ah, Jagannath. See, I am rubbing my eyes in disbelief. You sent me across seven seas and yet I am still to find a place as beautiful as Hoshgram.

Jagannath: Baba, will you not introduce me to your chief guest? The stage is set. The children are waiting for the programme to begin. Come, let us head towards the school.

Sunny: Here stands in front of you, Mr. Singh, a servant of this country, a poet and a man with a heart. Mr. Singh, look! This is the land of our birth. We are bathed with the scent of the holy Ganga upon our arrival. The sun shines above us to kiss the crops in our farms. Many people have gathered here today because such is the charm of our minister in the hearts of these people. Who could better understand the heart than you, Mr. Singh?

Mr. Singh: You must leave the poetic for those who are skilled in it, Sunny Ji. You are not very good with words I see. (Speaks to the minister) Will you not greet them, minister?

Yadav: I have no words to thank those who are here among us. May the land of Hoshgram live long and may the people prosper forever.

Satvir: Long live Hoshgram, long live the people!

Jagannath: (Repeats after him) Long live Hoshgram, long live the people!

Yadav: (Continues to speak to the crowd) As you are all aware, today we have Mr. Singh among us. He is a man of words, a man of letters, of poetry and of heart. If our luck permits us the pleasure, Mr. Singh will live among us, as a man of immense wealth. He will enrich our small community with employment, intellect and political influence. Isn’t it Mr. Singh? I now request him to share a few words of wisdom with us.

Jagannath: Hoorah. Cheers.

Mr. Singh: Kind people of Hoshgram. Straight away I will clear one thing. I am a man of experience. I would like to tell you on our first acquaintance that I come to your land with an influence like no other. I have been to worlds and I have found home in a few places. I know that life knows no image to be perfect. I will not claim I am the key to any magical solution to all your problems but education is of incredible importance in our society. When a child learns the workings of our world at school it has fun sharing that knowledge with its friends in the class as well as his parents at home. It is the vision of your good minister to integrate the two worlds of a child’s early life, fictitious and real, to find many more avenues of life so that children can be saved from the corruption that is eating our politics. I will add to make it evident that the task at hand isn’t easy. He has told me that when he was abroad his eyes saw a world different from ours but he did not forget the people of Hoshgram, he said he would never forget the will of his people back home. Praise be on him.

Sunny: There you have it folks, Mr. Singh. Mr. Singh has served the Indian government all his life and now he is free from his duties. He has retired from his office and he is among us to bear witness to our wonderful utopia. He has seen war between countries with his own eyes. It is our duty to give him nothing less than ecstasy in return. We owe him a utopia.

Jagannath: Baba has conquered parliament with his charisma. Our government sent him to Brussels and today he is come to embrace me in his arms.

The two brothers embrace each other.

Sunny: Well said, Jagannath dear. (Looks at his watch) Come, let’s move towards the school. It is hot. Mr. Singh has had a big meal. He must be tired. Let’s get the inauguration over with so that our esteemed guest could squeeze in a few hours of late afternoon sleep.

Jagannath: Come Baba, let me help you out of the railway station. Mr. Singh, this way.

Sunny: I will get the servants to bring the bags home. See you at the inauguration Jagannath. Have a good evening Mr. Singh.

Mr. Singh, Jagannath and the minister exit the stage. Two men, Patta and Satvir, come forward from the crowd. The crowd keenly listens to their conversation with the minister’s secretary.

Patta: Has Mr. Singh really seen wartime with his own eyes?

Sunny: Not just that dear citizen, he has also assisted the minister of defense during that time. He is supposed to be a master at the tactics of war. His knowledge of the art of war will not come in use during his stay at Hoshgram, for India is not at war. Hoshgram is a land at long lasting peace after all. Our society is filled with pacifist sentiments and our perception of wartime cannot be altered. War is costly and we are all so very poor.

Satvir: Can his wealth and knowledge not help us emerge out of poverty?

Sunny: Of course it can. That is why our minsiter has brought him here. Our minister is a messiah really.

Patta: Why were you making such grand speeches then about the beauty and prosperity of our land? You know we are all going crazy with hunger out there, right?

Sunny: Mr. Singh is a man of wealth Patta. It could mean gold for us if he decides to invest in Hoshgram. You know the government doesn’t offer any aid to us and how much can the party do on its own resources. Mr. Singh has the resources we need.

Satvir: Wonderful!

Patta: No it isn’t wonderful Satvir! Governments promise us work and employability and we trust them. When has anyone done anything for us?

Satvir: You are a little weak of intelligence. Your brain is a dull one.

Patta: If my brain is dull then how do I know what our future looks like?

Satvir: Imbecile! Only one man is gifted by god with vision and that is the minister. Everyone else in this village is blind.

Sunny: What does our future look like to you Patta?

Satvir: Let it be Sunny Ji. Patta must be wasting your time.

Sunny: No Satvir. Let Patta speak what’s on his mind. I’m also one of you. I want to hear what he has to say.

Patta: The minister has brought a wealthy man to our village today and I think it will only bring us bad luck. We will end up slaving after him, doing his silly chores while he will reap the benefits of the golden harvest that our land is capable of producing. Our children are bright and intelligent. They should be given opportunities of learning not be tied down by the business models of rich men. Individual wealth is that insect which makes society hollow.

Sunny: Patta, you have learnt to spit out big words. Mind your tongue else the minister can have your tongue pulled out of your mouth.

Satvir: (Laughing) Remember Sunny Ji what became of that low caste fool who dared to graze his goat on the Thakur’s land? Oh how thoroughly I enjoyed the putting back of him in his right place. The man still rots in a barn out on some field.

Patta: Do you think that it was a good thing to happen? Remember a man who cannot treat another man with decency will never leave behind any respectable legacy.

Sunny: Aye Patta! Don’t speak ill of our minister. Politics isn’t easy. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. This minister is the hope of our people. You will praise him when the time is right. I know it to be true. Men like him and Mr. Singh are poets, Patta. They are men of the heart. Do not invest your tiny brain in trying to understand them. Matters of the heart are much larger than the matters of the brain.

Satvir: Let it be Sunny Ji. How will an imbecile understand the mind of poets?

Patta: You may let it go Sunny Ji, but I will not let it go. I will never accept the change Mr. Singh’s privilege will bring to our land. I will have no other alternative than to resist.

Sunny: You are merely a blade of grass Patta. The wind is strong. Men are too weak to choose for themselves, life will choose for them.  

Stage is dark.  

 

 

 

ACT 2

Scene 2

The sound of children can be heard fast fading in the background. Rounds of applause are concluding after the inauguration ceremony at the school. The minister is so far happy with the pictures they have taken for his re-election campaign. Perhaps he has been showing western influence in his mannerisms after a brief trip to Brussels.

Mr. Singh observes on his way to the school and later that the village is actually stricken with crushing poverty, hunger and scarcity. Sick, suffering and dying people are everywhere. Despite the claims made by the minister’s party, the life of the people shows an unbelievable contradiction. Mr. Singh wished to confront the minister immediately after the inauguration but their car took them to the land Mr. Singh has shown interest in. The minister begins making him an offer for the land he can hardly decline. The driver has put his foot on the pedal and they have roamed around the whole village. The two are currently in the vehicle.

Yadav: I know what you are thinking. You are thinking why I had to lie to you about Hoshgram. Am I wrong in assuming that you are confused on seeing my people and their poverty? Mr. Singh, trust me this land used to be great a few years ago. When our people started migrating to other cities we thought we will be okay but they took everything with them. They left a hole in this place. They left nothing. A world is nothing without its people. My family had to learn it the hard way but we never let that get to us. We knew what we wanted. We knew what the people wanted. What we have here before you isn’t enough. I agree. But it is all that’s left.

Mr. Singh: And that is why you asked me to come and see it with my own eyes.

The minister remains silent.

Mr. Singh: The people who left for the cities will never come back. Things they have seen there will never be here in this village and that is why they will never come back.

Yadav: It is not my dream.

Mr. Singh: I would not want any village to become like a city. A city is a city and well, a village is… a village. Things we see in cities are reflections of inequality. No one can help it there. But here…

Yadav: I am to blame I suppose. Maybe I am the villain in the lives of these people.

The sun is beginning to set. The birds have started to make their way home. They are like black flies in the crimson sky.

Mr. Singh: You are a good man.

Yadav: But the people are indifferent to what I feel for them.

Mr. Singh: It’s okay, they will learn to engage with you emotionally one day.

Yadav: They sun always rises on us in Hoshgram with a kinder light than it did the previous day. I have hope.

Mr. Singh: Then hope is what the people will buy.

Yadav: They will buy anything won’t they? The art is to give them something they can buy hope with, slip it to them without them finding out.

Mr. Singh: It’s difficult.

Yadav: Of course.

Pause.

Yadav: There is a field near. It’s just on the way to where you are staying tonight. If you are willing to give it a look I’ll have something arranged…

Mr. Singh says nothing but gives his old friend a deep concerned look in the eyes.

Yadav: (Nodding his head) It is hurtful, the things you hear. Your own children talk about you. You can spend the rest of your life in this village. You will make more money than you could ever imagine and you won’t know when it will be time for you to face your pyre. Just give it a look. A big house is built on the field. It will only need some re-adjustments. The rest will be fine. It even has a barn… Don’t worry about the money. Give whatever you can. Give it in installments if you want. I’ll try to influence the registrar. I know he will listen to me.

Mr. Singh: And if I die…

Yadav: My party will do with the land as you please. We need something to happen in our village for something to change. You might be it.

Mr. Singh: I’ll have to think about it.

Yadav: There’s no harm in looking… It’s walking distance.

 Mr. Singh: Okay. Let’s see.

Light fades out, fades in.

The two friends have now found their way to this field Yadav Ji is trying to sell to Mr. Singh. It is one large surface in the color of the gold soil. A few trees are scattered here and there. A great wooden house stands in the middle of nowhere and a barn is built at a distance from it. Now night has started to set. Crickets are heard.

Yadav: We are just in time.

Mr. Singh: How far away is the river?

Yadav: A couple of kilometers, exactly.

Mr. Singh: I would like to see it, sit near it.

Yadav: I will have the driver take you there tomorrow morning.

Mr. Singh: Will you not accompany me yourself?

Yadav: I’d like to go back home to my wife and children after this. I’m feeling a sharp pain in my chest. I suffered a brief sneezing fit, you see. Tomorrow I will have to attend the party headquarter.

Mr. Singh: Oh dear.

Yadav: Don’t worry. I will be fine. Come, we are already here. I will now show you the farmhouse and the barn. Driver, stop the car.

They stop near an abandoned house. The minister helps Mr. Singh out of the car. Mr. Singh has now developed a limp.

Yadav: (Leading the way) It is difficult driving around these parts because the roads haven’t been built yet. See this? This is where you will be living. The house belonged to a British officer. He had it built to perfection. There are no less than sixteen rooms in that house. The outside has gathered dust but once you step inside you will find that we have kept the place just as the old Brit left it.

Mr. Singh: You mean his belongings are still in the house?

Yadav: Some of it, yes. The smaller ornaments were at risk of theft so my party has ceased them and kept them safe at my office. I can have them re-installed here, if you like.

Mr. Singh: Theft? Are there thieves here?

Yadav: You have nothing to worry about, dear friend. Everybody knows we don’t take well to crime at Hoshgram. If you will walk to the barn there is something I would like you to see.

They head towards the barn. Mr. Singh watches the sky with keen eyes, looking back at the house with fancy. They reach the barn. A scared voice rises from within the barn.

Bama: (Weakly) Who is there?

Yadav: Bama. It’s been long. How are you doing?

Mr. Singh: Who is it?

Yadav: It’s a man the villagers took prisoner for theft.

Mr. Singh: Why have they kept him here?

Yadav: The prisons were full Mr. Singh.

Mr. Singh: Oh, well. I see. Well, what now?

Yadav: (Nervously laughs) Bama?

Bama: Yes minister?

Yadav: Do you regret your crime?

Bama: I regret my life, minister.

Yadav: I’m glad to hear it Bama. I have good news for you. You are free to go. I believe your sentence has been served. You will not repeat your mistake, am I right?

Bama: Never again minister.

Yadav: Listen Bama I understand you didn’t have anything to eat and so you entered that man’s farm that day to steal what he had gained with hard work. You mustn’t repeat it. Do I have your word for it?

Bama: Yes minister, I will not cause your head to hang in shame.

Yadav: Mr. Singh, you stay here. I will go inside to free his hands so that he can escape from the back. You mustn’t see the man. I intend to spare you of such a sore sight as this common thief.

The minister quietly goes into the barn and unties the prisoner.

Bama: (Crying) Thank you minister. May you live long! Thank you!

Yadav: Oh, don’t cry Bama. Don’t cry. Save these tears. You will be a better man in next life, won’t you? Go now. Go out the back. You mustn’t let my guest see you. He is a great man. You need to be out of his sight at once, Bama! Be gone.

Soon after a brief sound of a man running away the minister appears before Mr. Singh.

Yadav: What a foul state he was in. Oh that terrible smell. Don’t mind me Mr. Singh. It was only for your own good. I want you to have fond memories of this place tonight, nothing foul.

Mr. Singh: You are a good man. Come, I think I want to see the inside of the house. I think I’d like to make a deal with you. I extend this hand to deepen the ties of our friendship.

Yadav: (Jumping in excitement) Oh! What are you saying Mr. Singh? Is it really true?

Mr. Singh: Yes it is true and it is because of you I have decided to spend the rest of my life here in Hoshgram. I want you to know that.

Yadav: I’m delighted, dear friend. My people will dedicate their lives to make you feel at home. I’ll have someone open the house tomorrow for you to see. Come, you must be tired, this way.

They move towards the car once again. Stage is dark.

 

 

 

 

  

 

ACT 2

Scene 3

An open public space where Patta has gathered crowd.

Patta: Has everyone turned a blind eye to this? Listen men, listen close. Today you have been wronged once again. Today you are outcasts once again. Take a look at this building your labor helped build. Spit in these hands if they clap at the speeches of the masters. No. They are not my masters. Our daughters will never see the inside of that place. There is no place for us. For ages they shunned you from their temples, they killed you for a drop of water from their wells. It is true that today we are far more united than we were in those times but it is also the truth that we are still divided. I admit, I am not one of you and I do not know your hardship. I cannot ever know it entirely. Look at us, we are easy to separate from those in high places still, I am not the true picture of your times but to imagine of the poverty of mind from which I am extending a hand of unity isn’t a tough task. I admit we do not understand each other’s point of view. I know life to be strange. But there is no time to be lost in such arguments. Listen men, it is time to unite once again. Their prisons are full with the bodies of your brothers while criminals roam here free. Why, because of your origins? They may chain down bodies but minds cannot be caved. You have not given up and countered their false charges with great pride in your identity. You have refused to treat them with dignity for the sake of your own dignified existence. I aspire for a spirit as resolute as yours. Tell me, is there anyone who will come forward once again and hold my hand?

The crowd gathers around Patta. Patta continues. The minister, his younger brother Jagannath and Sunny Ji, the assistant, enter the stage unnoticed by the crowd.

Patta:

Sunny: (Interrupts him) Patta, what is going on here? Why have you caused such a crowd?

Patta: I had something in my mind I wanted to shout out to these people because otherwise they might fall prey.

Jagannath: who will they fall prey to?

Patta: There must be equality between people otherwise a world cannot be in peace.

Yadav: There are alternatives to finding peace in one’s land. You need not agitate them. What is causing you to corrupt their minds? You have a better life than most, do you not?

Patta: I survive on one meal a day and you are telling me that I have it better than others?

Jagannath: Our party has been working on these problems for ages. Making people equal isn’t as easy as you might assume it to be. It is a tough ask of anyone. Baba has never placed the needs of his people second to his own.

Patta: Is that why you will make equal shares of your profit while the rest of the village lives on scraps?

Sunny: Patta, don’t lose your calm. People are watching. What will disrespect achieve?

Yadav: What has upset him, ask him?

Jagannath: Tell the minister what your problems are.

Patta: You have brought a rich man to the village. I did not like that at all. Money causes people to differentiate between rich and poor.

Jagannath: The fool has his eyes on money!

The crowd laughs with Jagannath.

Yadav: Jagannath.

Jagannath takes one step back and hangs his head in embarrassment. The minister takes a step closer to Patta and his assistant follows him.

Yadav: Patta, don’t be scared.

Patta: Minister, I am not scared, I feel like people’s sufferings are being ignored, like Mr. Singh gets more from you in a day than we have gotten in years. 

Yadav: He is my friend.

Patta: Is that why you wish to have him settled here?

Yadav: Who has told you that?

Patta: I don’t need any one’s telling.

Yadav: …and these people need your telling?

The minister holds Patta’s hands in his hands.

Yadav: Thank you, Patta.

Patta: None of us want another wealthy man in our village to wipe his feet on our backs while we slave for him.

Yadav: It is true Mr. Singh wants to buy a piece of land in Hoshgram and raise trees of mango. He means business, a business our village badly needs for something to change. You do your bit, I will do mine.

Patta: We have been fed lies about reforms before.

Yadav: Not everybody is lying to you Patta.

Patta: I don’t believe it minister.

Then the minster sneezes once, then again several times, his assistant helps him.

Yadav: (Not letting go of the hand) Excuse me.

Patta: There was another thing minister.

Yadav: Don’t be… (Sneezes again wildly) Don’t be… (Sneeze) Shy.

Patta: Will our children be allowed to study in this school? Free of cost?

Yadav: Why not! The school is for… (Sneeze) the… (Sneeze) people.

Patta: Are you alright, minister?

The minister shakes his head.

Sunny: Jagannath, help the minister to the car. We need to take him to the hospital immediately!

Jagannath: It’s only a few sneezes Sunny Ji!

Then the minister faints on the ground and there is unrest in the crowd.

Light fades out, fades in.

At the farmhouse, Mr. Singh is seated in a chair in the balcony meanwhile the peasants are preparing the soil for cultivation. Satvir is standing before him with joined hands begging for kindness.

Mr. Singh: So you are the one?

Satvir: (Leans forward with a grinning smile) Yes, yes. Welcome to Hoshgram Mr. Singh, the people are pleased to know you will be living with us. I can promise you the utmost warmth from us.

Mr. Singh: Sunny Ji has sent you?

Satvir: Yes, may god bless him.

Mr. Singh: I need someone to keep a watch on these peasants, will you do it?

Satvir: I’ll do anything my master will like.

Mr. Singh: What about supervising servants working in the house?

Satvir: I know them all personally master.

Mr. Singh: Do you have a wife?

Satvir: No master. My mother had been looking for a daughter-in-law but after her passing away I have no one.

Mr. Singh: Hmm… indulge in any bad habits?

Satvir: I don’t understand master…

Mr. Singh: Gambling, alcohol, women…? If I am keeping someone to manage the rest of the servants I should know if he is a lousy soul.

Satvir: No, I am not like that.

Mr. Singh: Good because I want you to be a respectable man. You need to show some of these fools their place. Don’t let them step outside their line. Show them who is boss. If I want something done it should be done well within time else I will not spare you.

Satvir: Yes master. I will show them.

Mr. Singh stares into a distance.

Mr. Singh: Do you see that girl there? There under the tree, trimming the hedges?

Satvir goes near the balustrade to see.

Satvir: Where? Ah yes, she is Malik’s daughter, master.

Mr. Singh: She is beautiful. What is her name?

Satvir: I can’t tell for sure but I think Noorie is her name.

Mr. Singh quietly looks at the girl for some time.

Mr. Singh: Go now and bring her here. A girl like her must work inside, under the shade of a roof. Her skin will darken if she works in the heat. Someone else will trim the hedges. Go now.

Satvir nods his head in response to the order and turns around to leave.

Mr. Singh: Wait! Satvir?

Satvir: Yes, master?

Mr. Singh: I am offering a room in this house to the servants who do not have anywhere to go at night. Do you also want a room? I will cut one hundred rupees from your salary for it.

Satvir: One hundred rupees!

Mr. Singh: Every month, as rent. 

Satvir: Though it is true I have nowhere else to go, but a hundred rupees? What difference will it make to you if your servants pay rent?

Mr. Singh: What do you mean?

Satvir: We are already miserable people master. Why would you take money from us poor and hungry village folk?

Mr. Singh: (Taking offense) How dare you! Who has taught you to speak this way to a master?

Satvir: Pardon me master, I let devils like Patta and his friends talk near me sometimes. I apologize.

Mr. Singh: What do you expect then? It is hundred rupees for a room in this grand house. Think about it. (Then he mutters to himself) How will you think about it when you have no brain? An ass is what he is.

Satvir: Will everyone here pay rent?

Mr. Singh: Yes. You don’t suppose you can live in my house without a fee, do you?

Satvir: (Scratches his head) No master.

Mr. Singh: Now go, what are you staring at?

Satvir: Nothing master. I was going.

Mr. Singh: A fool is what you are. Nothing but an uneducated-illiterate fool! Bring me the girl. And see to it that these peasants are working well to raise me my mango trees.

Satvir exits.

Mr. Singh: I’m a man of business. If anyone doesn’t obey to my orders, bring them to me.

Mr. Singh: I should have asked this idiot to bring me some water too. What is the name of that other idiot? Why can’t I recall it? (Calls the helpers) Is anybody there? Are all you illiterate’s deaf? (Mutters to himself) First my wife leaves me, then my children, now this. This is what I deserve.

He tries standing up but he hasn’t the strength in his knees.

Mr. Singh: I’ll tell Sunny Ji to bring me a walking stick. Maybe I’ll use it to teach these illiterates a lesson. I’ll smack them with it, I swear. I’ll beat them if I have to. I will leave my last days in peace. I don’t want anyone to cause me any problems.

He somehow manages to stand and goes to his bedroom. He mutters to himself all the way.

Mr. Singh: I am their master after all! They will want to outwit me if I don’t show them their place right from the get go. They are nothing but poor villagers. I’ll show them. I’ll show them.

He exits.

 

ACT 2 Scene 4

At the party office.

Sunny: Patta has brought Professor Bose to see you minister.

Yadav: What’s this about?

Sunny: The teachers haven’t been paid ever since the party has given way to Mr. Singh’s enterprise. That is their complaint.

Jagannath: Can you not see what is going on here? Baba, it has now become very important to hush down these villagers. We will have to come up with something grand.

Yadav: They are not just villagers, Jagannath. When I was abroad I did not think of Hoshgram as a land divided between us and the villagers. I thought of it as one. They are our people.

Jagannath: What did you think of Patta? Is he one of us? He has led our people astray for too long. He is no revolutionary. He gives revolution a bad name. Revolution belongs to us.

Yadav: Revolution cannot belong to a person or a party. It is of the people. War, politics, business… none of these can cause revolution till it is in the minds of the people to start a revolution. The question isn’t whether Patta is a revolutionary or not, the truth is that he thinks he is one. That is all that matters. To understand a world risen from the ruins of a revolution opposing war, political conflict and unjust businesses we need to look within the minds of the revolutionaries since those are the minds that allowed suffering to destroy their world at the cost of an alternate future.

Jagannath: But these people do what we tell them to do.

Yadav: No. We observe them as they do what they want to do.

Jagannath: (Outraged) So we must not interfere with his activities while his ideas corrupt young innocent minds in our village!

Sunny: Jagannath, you are full of anger. Take a moment. Think before you speak to your brother in this office. Here, he is your minister, not your brother. His duty is towards his people, not towards you.

Yadav: When you have empathy for others, you are open to accept the resolves they offer to society for their own problems. You have a lot to learn Jagannath. Do not become easily frustrated and lose your way. Life is full of uncertainties.

Suddenly a loud ruckus begins outside the minister’s office. Patta is trying to make his way inside but the minister’s guards forcefully stop him from entering the stage.

Yadav: Sunny Ji, look what is going on? Let them in.

The assistant goes to bring them into the building.

Enter Patta and Professor Bose.

Yadav: Why Patta, you have troubled a person with disability to prove your point? Professor Bose, go on home. We are working to squeeze out some funds for your salary. You have my word. Don’t let Patta bother you again. You are a man of learning and knowledge.

Patta: A man cannot eat what he has learnt.

Jagannath: Imbecile!

Yadav: Jagannath! Calm. Professor Bose, you have my word.

Professor Bose exits.

Jagannath: Baba, how dare he barge in on us like that, has he no respect for his minister?

Yadav: What is this, Patta? You are causing trouble again? Why don’t you ever find peace?

Patta: Peace is nothing but an understanding between enemies that life has outwitted them both.

Yadav: (Smiles) I’m glad you are of such opinion. Come, would you like to sit? You may sit on any chair inside this room you like, sit on my own if you please.

Patta: No, minister. I am not here to sit. The last thing I would want is your chair. I am here to ask something of you. I respect you, I know you will not refuse to answer my questions. Some workers were talking and the say that the work at the all girls’ school has come to a halt. They say it isn’t going to resume.

Yadav: But I believe they have been relocated to Mr. Singh’s estate. Isn’t that correct, Jagannath?

Jagannath: Yes, Minister.

Patta: What about the school?

Jagannath: Why do you care, you don’t anyone eligible in your family for that school.

Patta: It is not a matter of my family Jagannath. It is a matter relating to the society I live in. (To the minister) Will the construction not resume?

Yadav: Money is a bit scarce right now due to the inauguration and Mr. Singh’s enterprise. Now you can say, I have not hidden anything from you.

Patta: The money meant for the school is being thrown in the direction of Mr. Singh so he comes picking it up?

Jagannath: What does he intend to say? He hasn’t any reason in his thoughts. Get him out of here! He is disrespecting Mr. Singh.

Yadav: Jagannath, quiet. Patta, Mr. Singh is interested in expanding his business and for that very reason he needs some help. We are helping him. In a few days he will pay us back. The construction will resume then.

Sunny: Patta, the numbers employed at Mr. Singh’s estate are monumental.

Patta: (Scoffs at the assistant) Are you certain about that?

Yadav: (Continuing sneezing) What else do you want addressed?

Patta: All the local businesses have been given a threat. They are living with fear. Your goons have asked them to pay a double sum as donation. Will that also go to Mr. Singh?

Jagannath: Ridiculous. It cannot be.

Yadav: Patta, I believe my brother is right in assuming that you are speaking without any thought. I am afraid I have to tell you to go since I have more important work than these questions of yours. Mr. Singh’s arrival means good business for our people. His business needs workers to start working immediately. We are having to invest there for the moment but trust me once the business starts running on its own our gains will be unprecedented. We will be the one’s profiting. There is nothing to worry about.

Patta: You are all making a grave mistake, mind you. This shall not work. People need schools, hospitals, food… But you might not know about the madness poverty, disease and hunger have caused in the minds of the people.

Patta storms off the stage.

Yadav: Jagannath? Tell your men to keep a close look on Patta. Teach him a lesson if you see anything suspicious. Tell them to report about him directly to me.

Jagannath nods and exits the stage.

Yadav: Sunny Ji, help me make sense of that man.

Sunny: He is one of a kind, isn’t he?

Yadav: His kind will be the origin of a collective made of people.

Light fades out over Sunny. A spot remains over the minister’s desk. Then stage is dark.

 

 

 

ACT 3

Scene 1

Satvir: Twenty five years passed. All the characters of village Hoshgram are now a little grey in appearance. The Teach India campaign produced only idiots. Schools turned out to be massive failures because of the government’s policy to depend on traditional knowledge systems.  With no recognition of any of the realistic needs of the people, conservatism made the people unaware. There are other numerous reasons behind the failure of what was once a promising initiative by our minister. Without any investment in the happiness of the people the campaign alone could not pull children out of the pits of poverty stricken life. The village saw days it could never have imagined for itself. No one could have imagined.

Yadav Ji’s political career could not progress well. His allergy turned out to be a symptom of something more serious. He is now suffering from a more permanent lung disease. He has been succeeded by his brother, Jagannath, but his work and vision was irreplaceable. He contested elections regularly for a decade but his absence from meetings meant consecutive losses for the party. A series of similar events create a sense of indifference in the minds of the people.

Sunny Ji has now been dead for ten years. He died in a horrible accident. He fell from a roof and could not be rushed to the hospital in time. They said that the roads have not yet been built.

Master’s business did well. In fact, all the money earned in this village was one way or another going in his pocket. The minister could not hold his end of the deal once out of power. Nothing goes to the people anymore. Master has turned out to be a sick and rude man. The entire village has become his servant. He is believed to be sending out his produce to numerous cities but when a beggar comes to his house he refuses to give the poor man anything to eat. He sleeps with our young and beautiful girls. In Noorie’s twentieth year Master slept with her. I wish I hadn’t lived to see her walk out of his room that morning. After a few months they had to kill the child in her body. This isn’t a story from my imagination. It is an echo in the hollow within of this strange world where her body was no more than an evidence for the power embedded to the lives of men. The minister often comes to this house and together they tell their own stories of gain and dominance, sorrow and downfall. Maybe this is when that bastard, Patta, would have inspired us to resist. He’d raise a slogan anywhere. He was such a dog! Now nobody is heard asking about him, he has done nothing for the people, he was only words. I am an illiterate with little knowledge but this is the world we are living in? Have you seen this world too, or do you reside in another world? I wonder where I could find it. I am afraid it will be only in your mind. So many years are gone… I must not speak further… Here comes my master.

An eighty five year old Mr. Singh enters and sits in the chair on the balcony.

Mr. Singh: Satvir, massage my sore feet.

Satvir runs by his side, sits on the floor and begins massaging Mr. Singh’s feet.

Mr. Singh: Did the traders leave?

Satvir: Yes, they were very upset master. You left them in such a hurry, is everything okay?

Mr. Singh: Everyone wants to go on a free ride, nothing more. Nobody knows how to do business. Satvir?

Satvir: Yes master?

Mr. Singh: Does it look like I have opened an enterprise of charity?

Satvir: I don’t know… Doesn’t look like it, master.

Mr. Singh: Are these trees growing fruit so that anyone may barge in and ask for them?

Satvir: Certainly not, master.

Mr. Singh: The world isn’t short of beggars. (Pauses then speaks like he is suddenly reminded of something) Anyway, has the minister come in yet?

Satvir: He is on his way up here, master.

Mr. Singh: I ought to start sitting downstairs. Now in old age it is a pain climbing up these stairs. Satvir? Tomorrow you will start preparing the hall room for my meetings with everyone and the small room on the left for whenever the minister comes around. I want the painting of the horses hung there. My time has come.

Satvir: Yes, master.

Yadav: (Voice) Mr. Singh… How are you?

The fifty five year old minister appears in the balcony. Flowers have spread their scent and the sun is setting on this rural landscape. The sun is golden and the clouds have formed a thin thread across the sky. Birds are rising out of trees once again to scurry towards their nests.

Mr. Singh: Better than ever Yadav Ji, how about yourself?

Yadav: Nothing much, just a sharp pain in the chest as usual. I can’t see those traders anywhere… They had told me they would come today.

Mr. Singh: I sent them away. Such lousy hacks they were.

Yadav: Sent them away? Why? I had personally recommended you to them?

Mr. Singh: Never send cheap men across my way Yadav Ji. I can’t stand them. They intended to make a deal with me for half the price. They had the nerve to come into my house and bargain. Never will I let such men shake my hand.

Yadav: But they were from a small town, not from one of your big cities. They came as friends. They couldn’t have paid the fair price.

Mr. Singh: What nonsense!

Yadav: Not done, Mr. Singh. You should have at least thought about the rich and accepting culture of Hoshgram before sending them away like this. Atithi Devo Bhava.

Mr. Singh: Minister! Don’t forget, your land couldn’t even grow a blade of grass before I chose to invest my money and grew these great mango trees you see before you today. Satvir, bring an expensive wine for my guest.

Satvir exits.

Yadav: Yeh Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaaye Toh Kya Hai?

Mr. Singh: Leave business alone and tell me about yourself minister. Will you contest election this time?

Yadav: Not me. Jagannath will lead the party once again. I think I am nearing the end of my numbered days.

Satvir returns with a bottle of wine and two glasses. When he is putting these items down one of the two glasses falls to the ground and breaks. Mr. Singh immediately hits Satvir with his stick numerous times.

Mr. Singh: You dog! I’ll…

Satvir starts wailing.

Yadav: Stop it! Stop it! Poor Satvir.

Mr. Singh stops at once. He is breathing heavy.

Yadav: Satvir, go get another glass. It was only an object.

Mr. Singh: Minister if you weren’t here I’d skin this man alive.

Satvir: I’m sorry, master.

Mr. Singh smacks him again.

Yadav: Men use words to tell their differences. Don’t hit him like that. Satvir, go.

Satvir exits.

Mr. Singh: He is nothing but an illiterate fool. I’ll kill him.

Yadav: There is no use talking to you. Why do you bother for a glass when you have a big successful business?

Mr. Singh: Life is all about principles. I will teach this man how to be civilized.

The servant returns with a glass.

Yadav: Spare him, Mr. Singh. Say you forgive him.

Mr. Singh: Fine. Go now Satvir. Leave us alone.

Satvir goes. Mr. Singh pours them their drinks and they clink their glasses. The wine is red as blood.

Both: Cheers.

Yadav: If Sunny were with us today life would have been different.

Mr. Singh: I am glad I met such a man, got to know him before he passed away. Men like him are rare. They don’t make them like Sunny often. A man who loved his country as much as he did is a true patriot.

Yadav: It takes a lot for a man to love the land he is from despite its flaws. Sunny turned a blind eye to the flaws of Hoshgram and told everyone that plenty was good with this place. He always kept me going. Life without him was never the same. On the day he died, I felt like all this hope had been an illusion.

Mr. Singh: From the instance I saw him he never stopped singing praise of the glory of this village. I never understood what he saw in this place. I think I know now.

Yadav: To see what he considered to be great about this village you will have to acknowledge the coming together of so many different kinds of people. He used to ask me to represent the views of everyone. No matter how conflicting I found people’s interests to be, he always wanted me to appreciate the results of conflict.

Mr. Singh: People accept their differences over time not because they finally understand but because they are tired and want to give up trying.

Yadav: There is more to it than meets the eye. If another like him was here with us to serve this land we would all be in a better position. I am surprised that for a poet of renown you have such little respect for the downtrodden.

Mr. Singh: I have found my voice with the urban and the dystopian. I am of the opinion that no one can change my point of view.

Yadav: It is pessimistic and sad, don’t you think? These are your views?

Mr. Singh: What are your views on life?

Yadav: I have spent my days marveling at the beauty of country life. I know nothing other than the joy of grazing cattle, walking through the farm, jumping into ponds, sitting under the shade of a tree. This world is my inspiration. I intend to leave it better than I found it. Though I am a politician, I believe my influence on the people is sincere, but I never thirsted for power or to be penned down in the books of history as someone great, Hoshgram always made me feel drawn towards my fellows for the sake of understanding humanity.

Mr. Singh breaks into laughter.

Yadav: You are laughing at me?

Mr. Singh: No dear friend, I am laughing with you.

Yadav: Mr. Singh. To tell you the truth, sometimes I feel that you should have moved to a bigger city, like Bombay or abroad. I mean, what are you doing here?

Mr. Singh: I am doing what you had asked me to do. Remember? And who are you to say, or anyone for that matter, that I am not in love with this precious land? Why should I have done anything else?

Yadav: What I meant was that you could have written lyrics in the cinemas. Surely that would have brought you more enjoyment.

Mr. Singh: No it couldn’t have, I detest people you see. I see nothing wrong with Hoshgram. It’s the people who need a transformation. You were on the right track, I have to say, but somewhere down the line, you failed.  

Suddenly a loud crashing sound catches their attention, like someone has fallen down a tree. Satvir is heard grappling with another man. Their grunts are loud and nasty.

Mr. Singh: Satvir! Satvir? What’s going on? (Aside) I’ll break every bone in that boy’s body.

Satvir: It’s Bama again master! I’ve got him here by his collar this time.

Yadav: Bama?

They stand up and look over the balustrade.

Yadav: What is Bama doing on your estate?

Mr. Singh: What was Bama doing Satvir?

Satvir: He was eating mangoes sitting on the tree. He tried jumping when I saw him and fell off it and hurt his shin I think. He cannot run from me now, can he?

Mr. Singh: A thief!

Mr. Singh becomes red with anger and keeps the glass of wine aside.

Yadav: Let it go Mr. Singh, how many mangoes could he have stolen. I’ll pay for the ones he took.

Mr. Singh: This is an abomination! You can’t pay for someone else’s mistake… Satvir!

Yadav: Let him go Mr. Singh, the poor old thing must have been hungry, must’ve had no other option than to break into your estate for food.

Mr. Singh: Satvir, thrash him. Thrash him till he bleeds.

Yadav: The poor old beggar will die, Mr. Singh!

The minister leaves immediately to save Bama. For the time being the beating continues. After a considerable wailing from Bama his cries slowly drown away into silence.

Satvir: Master, now the dog does not squeal.

Mr. Singh: Good. Push him aside to a corner. I’m coming downstairs to see him.

Satvir: (While pushing Bama to a corner) Master, I feel he is gone.

Mr. Singh: Gone?

The minister rushes to the scene.

Yadav: Oh Satvir, what have you done?

Satvir: I did as the master commanded minister.

Yadav: Bama, won’t you open your eyes?

Satvir: Check his heart… Check his heart.

Yadav: What have you done Mr. Singh, this creature is dead.

Stage is dark.

 

ACT 3

Scene 2

A crowd gathered at the village square is busy minding its own business. Someone is selling the mangoes produced at Mr. Singh’s estate while someone is sitting with friends under the shade of a tree reading the local newspaper. Patta is addressing his followers as usual. A man comes onto the stage running and short of breath.

Enter Messenger, panting.

A voice from the crowd: Oh look! Where are you running off to?

Messenger: I am not going. I have come to tell you all of a horrible ordeal I have witnessed.

Patta: What horrible ordeal do you speak of, brother?

Messenger: A murder.

Crowd: (Gasps) Murder?

Messenger: Yes, a murder at the Singh estate by the order of the wretched old man himself.

Patta: Impossible! I never imagined such a horrible day would come. Who is killed?

Messenger: Poor Bama. I was only passing by the farm when I heard a wailing and then I saw poor Bama was being beaten to death.

Patta: And you just stood there?

Messenger: I was scared, I couldn’t move. He was dead before I knew what to do. Poor Bama, they showed him no mercy.

Everyone stands still in silence for some time. The crowd suddenly erupts.

A voice from the crowd: Why Patta? Won’t you come forth and spew all your big words now?

Patta: Are you the one speaking? Bloodshed never caused your heart to ache before this. Nothing moved you all these years, why now?

A voice from the crowd: Not everyone can show up at a fight.

A voice from the crowd: It is time for another fight, no doubt.

A voice from the crowd: Patta, you have always given words to our strife.

Patta thinks deeply and takes a step forward.

Patta: Yes, I have often spoken to you about things people do so that your lives will continue to not matter. I have spoken to you all about injustice, poverty and exploitation. Poor Bama! Had I not warned you that this day too shall come? But why have your eyes opened suddenly to an ordeal when your lips kept wearing stitches all these years. If our rebellion was stronger we would be stronger today. But we have wasted our days in slumber. I am afraid now it is too late.

A voice from the crowd: Go Patta. Leave us to our lives then.

A voice from the crowd: You failed us.

Patta: (Angrily) I will not leave you alone. How innocent are you all? All these years you were considered a mere crowd and you were okay with it. All these years our elders preached to us of the greater good stemming out of hardship, they kept our hopes high. My thoughts survived your indifference but nothing came of my struggle.

A voice from the crowd: Not everything is ruined. Children today are sharper because Patta kept them aware. He never quit raising an alarm to the evil ways of our masters.

Patta: (Angrily) We don’t have any masters! So let’s quit this quarrel between us.

A voice from the crowd: What of poor Bama? We seek justice for him.

A voice from the crowd: Nothing will change.

Patta: You must learn to fight! Your existence has been challenged because you are poor. Singh set his business here, on our land and left us with no freedom. We slaved after his needs. Everything else took second place. We were fed just crumbs when Singh ate the whole meal, day after day, for years. But let me tell you this…

The crowd leans forward in anticipation.

Patta: Singh fears us. He fears each and every one of us because we can outlast him even if we have nothing. He knows that if we can outlast him, we can overthrow him. He is afraid he cannot stop us from moving against him, he has known it all along and that is why he played his cards this dirty. He tried to starve us and kill us, but nature levels us all.

A voice from the crowd: What shall we do?

Patta: The same thing we have always done. We will go in the refuge of nature, till it equals Singh, till so long as the fight is on, till voices can be aired freely and the solution to our problems are in sight.

A voice from the crowd: We will fight.

Patta: Listen here, I will not preach because I am not running a religion. Those who do not wish to pick up arms against that evil eating our lives can quit now.

A voice from the crowd: What do you mean, Patta?

Patta: Without hurting them we cannot tell them how hurt we are.

A voice from the crowd: What will we do? Do not speak of violence, dear friend.

Patta: We will burn it all down, everything he has built in this village. We don’t want it. We don’t want anything to do with such evil.

Enter the minister and his brother panting. The crowd makes way for him but Patta does not move an inch.

Yadav: Patta, you are telling these innocent people to do something criminal. You will ruin their lives.

Patta: Minister! Where were you when Singh killed poor Bama? Where were you when he took everything away from us? Partly, you are to blame for his mistakes.

Yadav: Patta, you are letting anger get the better of you. Spit it out. You must not sway from the path of righteousness.

Patta: I will not take lessons in righteousness from you or any man like you. Get out of our way. We will do what should have been done years ago.

Yadav: I cannot let you do that. You will have to get rid of me first.

Patta: You have come to stop us?

Yadav: Yes.

Patta: Why have you come to stop us?

Yadav: Because the truth is that it wasn’t Mr. Singh who killed Bama, it was one of our own. Satvir killed Bama.

Messenger: But it was Mr. Singh who instructed Satvir. I saw the whole thing with my eyes. The minister was present at the estate too.

The crowd gasps.

Yadav: Patta, think about it. I know what Mr. Singh has done is wrong, he will be punished for his mistake, but this isn’t the way. You will burn down everything we built in this village?

Patta: Minister if we built all this in this village then why is that we are starving and Mr. Singh has earned all the fortune? Come men, let’s go.

Yadav: Forget all about Bama, Mr. Singh will leave all his wealth behind for us to cherish. He pushed his workers because he wanted the best for the people. He will leave his wealth to be distributed among us all.

A voice from the crowd: This man is telling lies.

A voice from the crowd: Patta, we will not take it anymore.

Patta: Minister, you have heard the will of the people. Their will shall be done.

Yadav: Patta has angered you all, you will regret listening to him like you always have. Don’t listen to him. This too shall pass.

The crowd pushes the minister aside and exits the stage.

Yadav: Jagannath! Today my fears have come true. I always feared I was not accepted by the people as their leader. I blame life for being full of uncontrollable circumstances. I believe the crowd will not stop and this attack cannot be overturned.

Jagannath: There is a man who earns all his riches only to give it one day to society around him, in doing so he is severely criticized for his dedication to the cause of profit, his will is tested and his faith is questioned.

Yadav: Fortunate men wish to leave their wealth to their loved ones. Mr. Singh loves mankind.

Jagannath: He broke the spirit of the people on several occasions. He mistreated his servants, took advantage of their innocence and killed a helpless creature. 

Yadav: Our short sightedness has failed us. We must not forget a lot is still at stake. We must first and foremost protect our own interest.

Jagannath: This world has not ceased to be a political landscape. This day too shall take us somewhere.

Yadav: The tide has turned today in the favor of the people. We must stand on their side. We have ended up running into the hurdle we were trying to remove from social progress all along. To get entangled in a mess like this is like signing your own suicide note. Where we have distanced ourselves from the downtrodden for so many years, we cannot ignore their uprising.

Jagannath: But all that money…?

Yadav: It will turn to ash.

Stage is dark.

Light. Train with destination to New Delhi is awaiting its departure. Here the crowd is scant. Night is shining bright. Carrying Mr. Singh’s luggage, Satvir enters the platform in a hurry. He is pacing ahead of Mr. Singh while Mr. Singh is trying to catch up. A man habitual to escape through poetry is escaping his circumstances. The train will depart in ten minutes. Satvir, of course will be left behind to face the wrath of the approaching crowd. He somehow manages to put the luggage in the train. Mr. Singh throws some paper notes at his servant and tells him to run away. It is clear they will never see each other again.

An old railway employee is attending to the needs of the passengers in this wagon. He helps old Mr. Singh up the train.

Mr. Singh: Is there a berth vacant in this train?

Dayanand: Yes. It is not a busy month and most of the trains on this route are travelling with very few passengers.

Mr. Singh: Great! Here is all the money I have on me right now. Give me a private seat.

The man easily accepts the money and takes Mr. Singh to a seat.

Mr. Singh: (Muttering to himself) Oh, what have you done? What have you done?

Dayanand sees this.

Mr. Singh: (Still speaking to himself) How deeply I abhor you! You vile creature.

Dayanand: (Intervenes while preparing Mr. Singh’s bed) Is everything alright mister?

Mr. Singh: Hmm? No, thank you.

Dayanand: You travelled in this train twenty five years ago, I remember.

Mr. Singh: I beg your pardon?

Dayanand: Your face resembles a face I have seen before. You have travelled in this train before, twenty-five years ago?

Mr. Singh: Twenty five years ago.

Dayanand: Mr. Singh? I remember you, yes. It was the day of the great luncheon. A minister hijacked my role as a cook. You are the man he cooked that meal for.

Mr. Singh: (Looks around him with disgust) You never quit this awful job?

Dayanand: I’ve worked this job all my life.

Mr. Singh: (Aside) He says it with his head held high. (Aloud) But look at you? You are old and grey! You must quit serving people like me who cannot look after themselves! 

Dayanand: This is my life. A short one, I admit, but I cannot complain. I’ve kept my family well fed.

Mr. Singh: Is that so? Come put a pillow behind my back.

Dayanand helps him.

Mr. Singh: I never thought I’d see you again.

Dayanand: I am happy to see you once again. Life seems to have caught up with both of us.

Mr. Singh: I’ve thrown away today a hell of a fortune. I’ve… I’ve killed a man.

Dayanand: Killed…

Mr. Singh: No. It was not me. I was only telling my servant to teach a thief a lesson for trying to steal what was mine.

Dayanand: Must have been a poor man…

Mr. Singh: I didn’t have any personal vendetta against him… I swear. Please don’t tell anyone what I have done. Give me your word.

Dayanand: You have my word.

There is a strange quiet for some time.

Mr. Singh: I am a man perhaps you will never forget…

Dayanand: Perhaps.

Mr. Singh: I made a mistake. Does it make me a criminal?

Dayanand: You have moved me. I do not know what is this feeling rising within me. I do not know how it makes me feel. If you think you have done something wrong then why are you running away?

Mr. Singh: Because I am afraid. I have been afraid all my life. I don’t have anyone to go to when I reach New Delhi. The city must have changed in twenty-five years. So much time has passed.

Dayanand: If you don’t have anyone won’t you suffer alone the guilt?

Mr. Singh: I have been rejected by life because I tried to change it. No. I failed because I never knew myself.

Dayanand: People never learn that they cannot control what will happen.

Suddenly someone calls.

Voice: Hello, Attendant?

Dayanand: Excuse me sir, but I won’t be gone for long. I will be back to see if you are doing alright.

The train stands there at the platform, motionless. Something is eating Mr. Singh deep within. The crowd at the station is busy, too busy perhaps. No one has any time for anything other than their self. Mr. Singh feels insignificant but he knows a doubt has carved way into his mind. He looks at his watch. There is still time for the train to start. Right now it isn’t going anywhere. Mr. Singh’s restlessness sparks a fire inside him. Though life remarkably goes on around him something within him is slowly dying with guilt.

Mr. Singh: It cannot end this way. Should I go back? Should I go back? Should I get off this forsaken train and go back home?

The train sets in forward motion. Mr. Singh stretches himself in his berth and draws the curtain on himself but the look of worry never leaves his appearance.

Stage is dark.