WOLFGANG a play for 10 women

WOLFGANG -

A contemporary play about women who live in the past. It is also a play only about women, of all ages, and coming from several sections of India’s hierarchial society -  a few who are wealthy, and several who are poor. A grand old lady is caught up in her past, but she has distances, servants, and youth to contend with, and a dog who is there and not there, a dog named Wolfgang…

CAST

Mrs. Mira Rajkumar:       An Octogenarian upper-class Indian Hindu lady normally dressed in designer cotton salwars, living in an Indian metropolis

Mrs. Dinaz Irani:         Her friend, also an octogenarian upper-class Indian Parsi lady normally dressed in designer cotton salwars, also her neighbour

Rekha:                    A good-looking woman in her twenties, running an up-market travel agency in the same metropolis

Shanti:                   Rekha’s plumper assistant, just out of her teens

Vimala:                   A middle-aged, lower middle-class housewife, dressed in a nylon saree, who makes extra money selling sarees house to house, patronized by Mrs Mira Rajkumar

Savitri:                  Vimala’s friend, also lower middle-class, also of the same age, but already graying with a pinched, tired look, and wearing a darned nylon saree

Sapna:                    Mrs Mira Rajkumar’s cook, short and plump, dressed in a cast-off cotton saree

Mumtaz:                   Mrs Mira Rajkumar’s cleaning woman, thin and faded, dressed in a faded saree, with frayed border

Aruna:                    Mrs Mira Rajkumar’s daughter-in-law, an early middle-age executive dressed in tailored ladies’ business suits, living in Toronto

Ida:                      Aruna’s assistant, much younger, dressed in white shirt and smart skirt

Period

Most probably late 20^th century

Places

A Metropolitan city in India, maybe Bombay

and

Toronto

INTRODUCTION

I started dreaming about this play in Goa, when I was there for a Jungian workshop on the theme of ‘Fathers and Daughters.’ Perhaps, that is why I dreamt of the old hackneyed relationship between mothers and sons. The ten women involved in the play swam into my consciousness slowly as I lay in bed in my hotel, looking out at the beautiful forested hills, as much of India used to be in the old days. Goan culture is also redolent of the old days, with many gracious mansions hundreds of years old, with their histories proudly remembered by their ancient owners. Perhaps, again, that is why the main character of the play is an octogenarian lady living in the past. But the graciousness of the old times is now mainly in her mind, befuddled with age, loss of all she was accustomed to, and romantic imaginings bordering on delusion. As Ovid said: “ My Muse is full of jesting. A book is not evidence of one's soul.”

All the characters are women, of differing classes, ages, and working backgrounds, and yet there seems to be strong similarities in their attitudes to life, and above all, sons. This is of course very Indian, as is the constant maneuvering of the women, complaining about each other, yet never confronting each other or their differences. This is also very Indian, perhaps, dictated by centuries of social experience in which people of vastly varying cultural attitudes had to accommodate each other, for instance, the vegetarian Brahmin living beside the Muslim who must slaughter a goat on Id day, though of course the Muslim neighbour would send only sweets to his house and not the mutton.

But there is more to the intricacies of this culture than mere accommodation of tolerance. Living constantly with differing value systems makes one not only put up with others, however much one may bitch about them, but also reserve in a deep recess of the mind unspoken doubts about one’s own values, however much one may vehemently espouse them. All these accepted contradictions make the Indian attitude to what is ‘truth’ very different from the rather straightforward Western definition. It is this very relativity, and its incomprehensibility to the Western mind, that led, for example, the imperial Viceroy, Lord Curzon, once to accuse the students of Calcutta University of lying.

His unpardonable solecism would never have been committed by an Indian of his generation, not only out of tactical interest to avoid a confrontation that would lead nowhere, but also out of a deeper doubt that the morrow might bring a changed understanding.

Such vacillating attitudes makes life both easier to live in the immediate present, but also more difficult to negotiate over a longer course. The only recourse offered to people is the chance to backbite, sneer and complain behind someone’s back, and then switch sides to one’s advantage. Repetitions of one’s position, in soliloquy or with an old companion, are done more to shore up one’s own confidence than to inform anyone else. Powerless people, like the female characters in this light whimsical play, do all this much more than the powerful, and that is understandable.

If they avoid confrontations, a denouement, a crisis, that could change power relationships, it also leads to a general foreboding of a static society heading for cataclysmic change at some future point in time. Saki, in short brilliant pieces, subtly conveyed this sense of doom to follow the light-hearted Edwardian interregnum he sketched out, as did Chekhov with a surer hand of pre-revolutionary Russia. The very stillness of life portrayed created a distant murmur of the crisis to come, like far-off thunder on a summer’s day.

Indian theatre has not lately shirked the Western tradition of bringing human crisis to the very centre of the stage. The great Vijay Tendulkar’s plays in Marathi led this modernist tradition, but, in my opinion, the very ethos of Indian life made such inventions mere theatrical devices, like ‘noises off,’ no more than a method to plunge the players and the audience into examining a moral dilemma, rather than witness a conflict between individuals.

Those who wish to see this play as a light farce leading nowhere would be right, of course. Those who sense the repetitive circle of manipulative actions indulged in by the women as an attitudinal prison would also be right.

The Play

This is light comic fare about Indian women of all classes. A grand old lady, Mrs Mira Rajkumar, lives alone and in the past, tyrannizing her two women servants, and imagining her dead dog, Wolfgang, to be still around. A chance reading of a book on Ovid convinces her that she would be able to bring back her dog from Hades, and she does, or does she?

Scene 1: We see Mrs Mira Rajkumar having her brunch in her living room, in a well-to-do area of an Indian Metropolitan city, while imagining her dog is still alive and talking to him. She orders her oppressed servants to feed the dog.

Scene 2: Aruna, her hated daughter-in-law, a business executive in Toronto, has a fight over the phone with her husband, who she knows is having an affair, and calls her colleague Ida to hold the fort at work while she takes her much-loved son to school. Aruna herself may not be above having a fling with a visiting Japanese businessman.

Scene 3: Vimala, a lower middle-class housewife, who sells sarees door to door to make extra money, comes to Mrs Mira Rajkumar’s residence hoping to make a sale. She brings along Savitri, a friend, whom she hopes to introduce as a saree expert. Savitri hopes to persuade Mrs Mira Rajkumar to get her son, a hospital administrator in Toronto, to sponsor her poorly-paid brother, a male nurse in a hospital.

Scene 4: Rekha, an up-market travel agent is juggling several potential suitors at the same time, while instructing her assistant, Shanti, how to make money.

Scene 5: Sapna the cook and Mumtaz the cleaning woman have a quiet chat over tea while Mrs Mira Rajkumar is away. While Sapna fears that the old lady will leave them nothing when she dies, Mumtaz reposes confidence in Allah. Both bemoan their past and their poverty, Sapna having been deserted by her no-good husband, while Mumtaz was too poor ever to get married, though her grandfather had once owned a horse.

Scene 6: Mrs Mira Rajkumar and her close friend from schooldays, Mrs Dinaz Irani, have a drink at the Club, and talk of old days and the present. Mira tells Dinaz not to trust her disloyal servants when she is away – she can’t quite remember whether it is Toronto or Ontario she is going to. She then excitedly tells Dinaz of her discovery of Ovid, the story about Orpheus and Eurydice, and that because of global warming the time was right for her to go to Hades and bring back Wolfgang, so correctly named in the Orphic tradition. Both ladies go home, a little the worse for having had a glass too many.

Scene 7: In Toronto, Ida is telling Aruna in their office how much she admires the Indian joint-family system. Aruna demurs passionately, saying Indian women possess their sons, and that was the problem with India, and that she would protect her own from his grandmother. Ida wonders why daughters and sons are different, and guesses that women do not wish to be possessed, unlike men, but wish to remain free to create a moment of harmony out of the discordance of opposites.

Scene 8: Dinaz is at Mira’s house to help her pack. Mira tells her she needs to take along photos of the old days to show her grandson, who is being brought up like a savage, all about his heritage. In the meantime she gets a call from Aruna who tells her that her son is at work in a meeting well past midnight. Mira immediately calls him and seems to disturb a raucous party with women friends. She then tells Dinaz she must take photos of Wolfgang as well to identify him in Hades.

Scene 9: Everyone is at Mira’s trying to hurry her up to leave for the airport. Rekha tells Dinaz that she is engaged to be married to a widower, who needs a mother for his son. She hopes to be happy, especially if he gets a professorship in New Zealand. Suddenly, Shanti surprises everyone by saying she is doing a doctorate on why people travel nowadays. She tells them the title of her thesis - Love and Travel: The Search for Definitive Disappointment.

Scene 10: Mira is about to depart for India from her son’s home in Toronto. Her complaints over the phone to her friend Dinaz are interrupted by Aruna’s arrival. The banter turns into some home truths that Mira feels impelled to share with Aruna in surprising good fellowship.

Scene 11: Sapna, Mumtaz, Vimala and Savitri are waiting for Mira’s return. Vimala cleverly convinces Savitri that after her brother leaves for Canada, she should live with her as a tenant, share the housework, and take care of the house while she goes out with her husband. Mira returns, we hear Dinaz laughing off stage, and loud excited barking. Mumtaz and Sapna are convinced that Madam has brought back Wolfgang. Mira herself says that she did as Ovid prescribed about bringing back life by creating discordant harmony among opposite forces.

SCENE 1

THE SETTING:                   The living-room of a well-to-do old lady in an up-market part of an Indian city. In the middle of the stage is her straight-backed comfortable chair, with a small table in front, laid out for her elevenses. At the back is a dummy mantelpiece with a cluttering of photos and china bric-a-brac collected over a lifetime. The door to the kitchen and pantry is to the left. A few steps to the upper floor protrude from the wing to the right.

AS LIGHTS COME ON:             MRS. MIRA RAJKUMAR slowly descends from the steps, leaning heavily on her orthopedic walking stick and makes her way carefully to her chair.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[seating herself gingerly]

Sapna! Sapna!… Sapna! I know you can hear me, so don’t pretend. I am ready for my brunch!

[muttering to herself]

I eat little enough, but she will never serve me on time. No doubt, gossiping with that other worthless servant. I have two of them, and there isn’t work for even one in this small house.

[raising her voice again]

Arre! Are you all dead? All right, I will come into the kitchen. I don’t need any of you!

SAPNA

[dashing in from the kitchen,

wiping her hands on

the end of her saree]

Sorry, Madam! I was washing my hands to be ready to serve.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

What’s the point, if you then dirty them on your saree? How many times must I tell you to use a fresh, clean napkin? In my

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR [Con’d]

father’s day, you would have been dismissed. But nowadays, everyone is dirty.

SAPNA

[moving back to the kitchen]

I will get the idlis. I’ve made coconut chutney with mint, and also ginger chutney the way you like it, Madam.

[SAPNA comes back with a tray

and serves MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR]

SAPNA

I will bring the hot toast and coffee the moment you want it, Madam.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[mollified slightly, tasting,

 and grumbling]

The coconut is fresh, thank goodness, not like yesterday, but the idlis feel stiff and dry. They should be soft, like jasmine flowers, my father used to say. Just remember that, Sapna, it will help you with your next employer… after I am gone.

SAPNA

Chee, chee, Madam! What an inauspicious thing to say in the morning! May I be long gone before then!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[more cheerfully]

Sapna! Bring me the toast and coffee now, I’ll have it all together. I hope that bread-wallah brought us real bread, and not that cardboard mixture he has been cheating us with.

SAPNA

[over her shoulder,

running back to the kitchen]

I saw to it, Madam! I told him there are other bakeries I can order from, and that Memsahib was not accustomed to eating animal food!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[remembering, as SAPNA comes

back with a fresh tray]

Sapna! I always like Wolfgang to be served along with me. He never ate except by my side. Bring out his dish immediately!

SAPNA

[coming back with a dog dish]

I have got it all ready here. Here, Vulpi! Here!

[placing it on the floor beside the chair]

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

All right, just leave it there. Next time, remember, he likes his biscuits along with his cooked meal, placed on the rim.

[SAPNA goes slowly back to the kitchen]

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[absently]

Good old Wolfy! There… there’s your meal. Have a good sniff and take what you want. I know you are here. I can feel you all the time, guarding me. That woman thinks I’m dotty, but we know better, don’t we, Wolfy? There’s more things between heaven and earth, Sapna, my girl, than are dreamt of in your mean little philosophy, and all that sort of thing. What can she know? She can’t even cook properly, even after all these years of my instruction… just bone lazy… they all are. No wonder her husband left her – though she pretends he died – no man can stand this kind of cooking. She wouldn’t have lasted one minute in my father’s household. At least, the coffee is strong and hot, I’ve been able to din that much into her thick head.

[calls out]

Sapna! Sapna! Is there some more coffee?

[to herself]

I am sure she’s run off to the back to chat with that Mumtaz – what fancy names they give themselves, these low-class people… I suppose they have nothing else to take pride in… oh, dear, what a country this has become!

SAPNA

[putting her head in

through the door]

Did you want anything else, Madam?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

No, nothing… just take all this away. Yes, bring me some more of that coffee. You made an excellent cup, thank you, that was very

good.

[calling out as SAPNA collects

the tray, and leaves]

And, oh, bring out some of Wolfy’s biscuits, he would like them today.

[SAPNA comes back immediately

with more coffee and a few dog

biscuits which she arranges in

the dog dish, before leaving]

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Ho, yes! Sapna! Sapna! Where are you?

[raising her voice]

Just tell that Mumtaz woman to come here immediately!

[sips coffee]

I hate to spoil my day talking to these lazy good-for-nothing people, but what else can I do? In father’s time, the head bearer controlled all these servants, now I myself have to do everything – in my old age!

[MUMTAZ appears fearfully from

the kitchen and stands by the

door. MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

pretends not to notice for a minute]

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Are you there? Where were you when I called? Don’t you see what a strain it is for me to keep shouting out to you people? I will die with the strain!

[MUMTAZ stands still with

head bowed]

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[after a few more sips of coffee]

I am dismissing you, you understand? I cannot stand living in such a dirty house any longer. You cannot sweep, all the dishes are dirty, you do not work.

[MUMTAZ continues to stand

still, her head bowed]

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[after a few meditative moments]

Are you deaf, or are you dead? I told you, you are dismissed. You will leave my house as soon as you can. I will calculate how many days of so-called work I have to pay you – I’ll do that this afternoon, but you must go!

MUMTAZ

Is there anything else, Madam?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Oh, God! Why don’t you understand anything? Can’t you understand I am dismissing you from my service?

MUMTAZ

[submissively]

Madam is angry – if you show me what is dirty, I will sweep again, or wash again.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[waving her away]

Go! I have no patience with you!

[watches MUMTAZ go back into the kitchen]

Dumb woman! How I am beset by fools and thieves! If not for you Wolfy, I would have no companions left, no one to talk to! Yes, Wolfy, you and I are the last of the old brigade still left. No wonder Arun couldn’t stand it here and went to Canada, though how anyone can live on an iceberg, I don’t know. I won’t go there – he’s asked me often enough – no, sir, not for all the tea in China! You would rather love to go, wouldn’t you, Wolfy? You would roll and roll in the snow, wouldn’t you? After all your ancestors came from there. But my poor boy was always very sensitive to chills, and that woman doesn’t care at all – how anyone can be so selfish and still call herself a woman and a wife, I don’t know – well, times have changed for the worse, far worse – remember how I looked after poor Raj when he was alive –  like a hawk, I was – you weren’t born then, were you? You came to me years later as a tiny little pup, gnawing at my nipples for milk…

[gets up laboriously and reaches for her stick]

I will go upstairs and read for a bit – that’s a masterly book on Ovid. He brings everything to life. Life! That’s what he gives us, Wolfy, life to you and me.

[She slowly walks up

the stairs]

LIGHTS DIM AND OUT

SCENE 2

THE SETTING:              An upper middle-class home in Canada. An open laptop in its case stands on a pseudo Louis Quinze table, beside a tall Finnish flower vase and a neat pile of books. The wall at the back has a large Pollock print. A door to the left presumably opens into the kitchen, and disappearing into the wing at the right are the last few steps of the stairs leading to the bedrooms upstairs. It is just before eight in the morning.

AS LIGHTS COME ON:             ARUNA, in a smartly tailored suit, comes rapidly down the stairs, fixing her ear-rings. A Canadian FM radio station is blaring out news about weather and traffic conditions. She switches it off.

ARUNA

[cursing to herself]

God! I’m already late! I shouldn’t have had so much wine last night! Ted will never forgive me if I make a mess of the presentation, I know him!

[peers into the laptop, snaps it

shut within its case, slings it

over her shoulder, opens a drawer,

shoves a sheaf of notes into

 her bag, and checks her watch again]

I’ve got to drink milk. A gallon of milk! And take that pill.

[ARUNA rushes out to the

kitchen and comes back

with a tall glass of milk.

She pops a pill and sits

down on a chair]

ARUNA

[to herself, slowly

drinking the milk]

I must calm down, I’ve got to calm down! Why the fuck is he delaying me, he knows it’s my big day – he’s taking this long

bath on purpose, I know! ‘Never marry an outsider,’ that’s what my father said, ‘you have similar names, but that’s no reason to marry the guy!’ What a silly little fool I was in college, but I

know all about you now, Mr. Arun.

[flips open her cell-phone

and punches in numbers rapidly]

Hello! Yes, of course, it’s me, who else did you think? Did you forget it’s my big day? What? Of course, you’ve got to get clean and scented and beautiful for your big night out –yes, yes, I know it’s an important staff meeting, isn’t it always? What?… Why should I be angry? I have nothing to do with your life… well, am I not right? Your office is your life, and I have nothing to do with it, right?… Look, I’m in a hurry, I rang to ask you a favour… yes, these days it’s a favour, right?… No, nothing you can’t handle, just can you do one thing for your son?… Yes, your son! I would never ask you to do anything for me, I can manage very well by myself, thank you very much. No, I can’t wait for you, either, I am leaving right now, I am late as it is! Arun… Arun! Answer me this, Can you take Chippoo to school right now, and bring him home by three? What? You can’t? I see. Just as I thought. No, let’s not fight, I have no time for that right now – enjoy your evening! What? Of course, I am not taking the BMW, I will drive the dowdy Subaru, OK? You need to look gallant, right?

[she snaps the phone shut,

takes a swig of milk, and talks

to herself, getting up]

If he gets that stupid bitch, Libby, to sleep with him by showing off his big black BMW, she is the biggest cow in Canada!

[calling out]

Chippoo! Chippoo, darling! Come down now! I’m already late for work, and I’m going to take you to school because Daddy has to work very hard today with aunty Libby with the big fat bum!

[rings another number on

her cell-phone, while walking

back and forth rapidly]

Ida! Hello, it’s me! Look, Ida, I’m going to be late! I know, I know, I know! I’ve to get Chippoo to school – no, Arun is not cooperating, and at this stage, I don’t give a fuck – literally – and I’ve also got to get my boy home by three-thirty, my sister should be here by then – by four, max – then I’ll be back in time for the round-up in the office, and ready dolled up for the jollification to follow… – no! – no!

 [laughs hysterically]

ARUNA [Con’d]

I don’t have a thing about Japanese men, but you must admit he’s got a fantastic body, taut muscles - and there’s something mesmeric about Toshiko’s eyes, like a Zen master…

 [speaking rapidly]

Tell you, darling, how you can help, just tell Ted to keep the show together till I arrive! I know he’ll be mad as hell, but I can’t help it. Tell him to trust me for once, I’ll get them to sign before lunch. After the presentation and lunch, you just whisk the Japanese away round the plant – tell Ted it’s a strategy we’ve worked out – while I bring Chippoo back from school, and - Come on, Ida! You can do it? – you have such an innocent look, Ted will believe you!… Ok, I’ll call him myself –  He’s going to bite my head off! See you as soon as I can tear through the traffic!

[rings a new number feverishly]

Ted! Ted! Can you hear me? I’m caught in this traffic jam, Ted! Grid-locked! There’s been an accident up front somewhere, I think. Ted, do be a darling, Ted, and give them a PowerPoint presentation about our plans in Australia!… They won’t get bemused, they have been trying to get there themselves, and our plans will keep them guessing… just hold the fort till I get there… I may just abandon the car and take a cab, only everything is grid-locked. Trust me, Ted, I will have them sign before lunch, I’ve worked out a strategy… tell you about it at lunch… we will find a minute together… I think something is opening up, Bye for now, Ted, I am going to switch lanes, Bye!

[calls out again]

Chippoo! Chippoo, darling! There’s no time left, I’ve got to rush so come down as you are! We can eat sandwiches in the car. I’m going down to the garage right now and will take the car out to the driveway. You run out to the front quick as you can!

[makes to leave, then remembers

something with a mischievous

smile, and rings again]

Arun? Arun! Scented yourself by now? No, this is serious. Your mother expects you to call her tonight. Don’t forget! She always complains that I prevent you from calling her – if it were not for me you would never call her, would you, you are so busy in the evenings! No, I am not bitching – no, I’m not like your special friends – Arun, I don’t care, just call your mother - if you don’t, she will call me and I will have to give her your cell-phone number – you wouldn’t want her interrupting your important admin meeting tonight would you? Bye, love!

[ARUNA laughs as she goes out]

LIGHTS DIM AND OUT

SCENE 3

THE SETTING:              Same as in Scene 1, except that there are a couple of low chairs arranged beside MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR’s big chair. In front is a big bundle of sarees wrapped up in a dirty white long-cloth cotton sheet. It is late afternoon.

AS LIGHTS COME ON:             VIMALA and SAVITRI are perched uncomfortably on the low chairs. SAVITRI is leaning over to whisper in VIMALA’s ear.

VIMALA

[comfortingly]

Don’t worry, she is not what people make her out to be. She is mad, but most old women her age are mad. She is lonely in this big house, anyone will get mad. Abandoned by her own son, these people are not like us! God spare us from such riches!

SAVITRI

But if she does not help?

VIMALA

So, she does not help. Who cares? We would have at least tried. No, listen, I know the old hag quite well. Behind all that aristocratic haughtiness, she is a timid person. She will help, I tell you, for she is desperate to have friends, someone to care – she knows her son doesn’t give a damn – she has only us to depend on. You will see, everything will be all right.

SAVITRI

She has no daughters, nieces?

VIMALA

Yes, spread all over India, but I have never met them. Yes, there are a couple of nieces right here, but no one comes to call. Everyone is afraid of her complaints. She is so stupid she doesn’t understand no niece is going to come close if she keeps complaining! Everyone these days has her own problems – who wants to listen to a mad old woman?

SAVITRI

[persisting]

Then who is she buying all these sarees for? She can’t be buying them only for herself? I mean, how can she wear them all?

VIMALA

[laughing quietly]

She is mad, I tell you. She will buy two or three every time I come here, and then lock them all away in her cupboard. She has hundreds of sarees, brand new, which she has never worn, never will wear!

SAVITRI

[wonderingly]

She must be really mad. God, I don’t want anything to do with a mad woman!

VIMALA

[calmly]

Yes, she is mad, but no more mad than most men. They all watch cricket, don’t they, night and day? What do they get out of it? Nothing! It’s just a hobby. Well, buying sarees is her hobby. I don’t mind, just the reverse. She is one of my best customers.

SAVITRI

[still not quite understanding]

She must like you very much, to be so generous.

VIMALA

[laughs again]

No, she is a stingy old goat. She will bargain endlessly over ten rupees, I tell you. So I always quote a couple of hundred rupees higher, to give her the satisfaction of getting the better of me after a hard bargain. She is a case!

SAVITRI

She can easily find out the real price in one day by going round the shops.

VIMALA

You can’t tell with sarees like you can with groceries. In any case, she is old and can barely walk, you will see. I always say I bring her special sarees, woven in a limited edition, and especially selected for her. I am going to introduce you as a saree expert who has put together a special collection for her!

SAVITRI

Oh, my God! If she asks me questions?

VIMALA

[calmly]

Bluff. Say anything, but say it with a knowing smile, and confidently. Just like the rest of us lower middle-class women you have been to all the saree shops at festival times, haven’t you? We can only buy nylons and factory seconds, but we get to see everything in the crush, nobody minds – so you have seen Kanchipurams, Uppadas, Gadwals, Pochampallis, Mangalgiris, the lot – so what are you afraid of? Just think of your own dreams and speak. She will love it, she has the same dreams. She has money but can’t wear anything any more – only dreary housecoats.

SAVITRI

[tearfully]

I would never have come, if it were not for my poor brother. After father died, I have looked after him like a mother. I can’t bear to see him work so hard, and get insulted so often – for what? He doesn’t earn enough money even to buy himself a nice shirt for Diwali.

VIMALA

[comfortingly]

I know, I know. Don’t worry, she will help. Her son is an administrator in a very big hospital in Canada, and in that country they are always looking for caregivers. Your brother will get in, just wait and see.

SAVITRI

[urgently]

He is an experienced male nurse. Sometimes, he works right round the clock – doesn’t even come home for his dinner. And he is treated like dirt. They all take advantage of his goodness, get him to do all the dirty work, for next to no pay. If her son will only sponsor him… my brother will be grateful to him - to the whole family - all his life, he is like that.

VIMALA

I know, I know, don’t worry. Why should he not sponsor your brother? He loses nothing. And if his mother tells him to, even a no-good son cannot refuse. So, everything will be all right, you will see.

[There is silence between the

two for a time, each lost in

her own thoughts]

SAVITRI

Vimala! You are not poor, like me, with barely enough food to eat. You have a husband with a government job, an assured pension, provident fund – and you yourself said you may get allotment of a Lower-Income-Group tenement if his boss cooperates. Why do you have to sell sarees to mad people?

VIMALA

Have you forgotten Srinivas? How else can we afford to send him to a convent school? All my earnings go towards his education. My son is all I have, and I would rather sell myself than send him to a government school!

SAVITRI

[shocked]

Vimala! Don’t talk like these low-class people!

VIMALA

[calmly]

I am not. It’s lower middle-class women who sell themselves. And if you ask around you will see it will be to pay for medicines for an old father, or to educate a son. Don’t I know? I can tell you stories. That Tamil Iyer woman in street number four, whose son went to America – she’s been whoring for years to do that. Men pretend they don’t know. We women know, but thank God, I haven’t come to that yet. 

SAVITRI

[looks round desperately

to change the subject

and spots the dog

dish under the table]

Oh, my God! Does she have a dog? I am terrified of dogs!

VIMALA

No, no. Her dog died a few years ago. She still keeps his bowl, and thinks he is alive. She is crazy, I tell you.

SAVITRI

[rising]

Pardon me, Vimala, I know you wanted to help, but I shouldn’t be here. Now I want to go home. So please apologize for me to Madam.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[coming slowly down the stairs

clutching the banisters]

You can apologize to me yourself. No, sit down! I have dragged myself down this hot afternoon to see your sarees. Vimala, you are a good girl. Go into that kitchen, and get water and glasses for all of us. That lazy woman would be asleep by now, and I will get a heart attack before I can wake her.

VIMALA

[getting up respectfully]

Certainly, Amma. This is Savitri, she comes from a weaving family in Kanchipuram, and she has made a special selection for you!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[sitting down in her chair]

Then, she should not be so keen to run away. Sit down, girl, sit down! I don’t like formalities. So, you are from Kanchipuram. You must know Chinnappa Shetty’s family quite well?

VIMALA

[intervening quickly]

Amma, what are you saying? Savitri’s father was a great weaver, but she would never dare to step into Chinnappa Shetty’s house! Come, Savitri, help me wash the glasses in the kitchen. Amma likes everything to be spotless! Come and help.

[VIMALA and SAVITRI go

into the kitchen]

VIMALA

[calling out from the kitchen]

Amma! Shall we make you a nice fresh-lime sherbet? It is so hot, you will like that!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

All right, that would be very nice.

[to herself with a thin smile]

I wonder what this new woman wants from me?

LIGHTS DIM AND OUT

SCENE 4

THE SETTING:              A rather simple office-room in the same Indian city. A long table with dull varnish is in the middle, cluttered with files and three differently-coloured telephones. The wall at the back is adorned by a large calendar, which has dark circles drawn round several dates; two posters announcing cheap holidays in Europe; and five clocks all in a row, showing different time zones. The door to the left apparently leads to a copying room, for the sound of a machine working is heard. The steps to the right most probably lead to an executive room upstairs. It is early evening.

AS THE LIGHTS COME ON:         REKHA comes down the stairs studying the agenda she holds in her hands. With a toss of her head she goes to one of the telephones as it starts ringing.

REKHA

Yogi Tours and Travels! Oh, it’s you, Dr. Arun! I never expected to hear from you so early. It must be crack of dawn in Canada! No, Sir ! No, no, Sir, only too happy to be of service, anytime. Most days I work till twelve at night.

[laughs merrily]

Single girl’s woes! Oh, Dr. Arun! I am sure you pull every poor, single girl’s leg!… No, no, no! Ha, ha, ha!… Yes, Dr. Arun, I am presenting your mother’s papers once again to the Consulate. No, Dr. Arun, we did it right, last time, but the new person in the Consulate is inexperienced, so he asked these extra questions… hm, no trouble at all. Everything has been clarified. It will go through smooth as butter, I promise you! What was that? Ohhh! You are very, very, naughty, Dr. Arun… What?… I can’t call you just Arun, Dr. Arun, there is a code for us also. Yes… of course we are friends. Well, let me say this, since you insist, Arun, you can ask me out to dinner when you get here… I bet you will forget all about poor little me the moment you put the phone down! Oh, you are naughty! I don’t think a good girl should

REKHA [Con’d]

listen to all this. Of course, I am a good girl, what do you think? Luckily, I am too far away from a dangerous man like you at present. What, you are flying over! I’ll see you don’t get a ticket! Bye! Bye, Arun!

[She puts the phone down with

a smile and looks through some

papers with a frown]

REKHA

Shanti! Shanti, come out here a minute, will you?

SHANTI

[coming out of the backroom

clutching a sheaf of papers]

I have a lot more work to do back here.

REKHA

[frowning]

All that can wait. I have told you over and over again, look carefully at a booking, use your head, before you do anything. What the hell is this mess? What am I to say to the customer when he calls?

SHANTI

[looking over REKHA’s shoulder]

Oh, that! I thought you wanted him booked on Emirates? You told me he wants the cheapest possible routing. I have given him the cheapest fares.

REKHA

Oh, my God, I have to suffer this! You just lost us twenty-thousand rupees. Cheapest doesn’t mean cheapest. It means cheapest so that I can pay your salary. Get that? Your job depends on our making some money. OK? Understood?

SHANTI

[calmly, going back]

OK with me. Just be clear what you want done. It’s no use telling me to do something in front of the customer, and then coming back later and saying you meant something else.

REKHA

[shouting after her]

God, Shanti! I really cannot make you out sometimes! Are you just thick, or are you out to ruin us? What do you expect me to

say in front of customers, the truth?

REKHA [Con’d]

[shaking her head]

The help we get these days.

SHANTI

[with her head through the door]

Just simple clear instructions, if that is not too much to ask.

[A telephone rings. REKHA picks

it up after a couple of rings]

REKHA

Yogi Tours and Travels! Oh, it’s you! I thought you had forgotten all about me. No, I am not angry, why should I be? It was just a casual suggestion, right? One gets angry only with one’s close friends, who stand one up, unpardonably… I don’t believe a word of what you are saying… you were just filling in time…men like you are the limit!

[slams the phone down.

 It rings again. She waits

 till it rings six times,

 and then picks it up angrily]

I said I don’t believe you! I don’t believe you! I never will believe… Oh, sorry, Eugene, I didn’t know it was you! Who… oh, that! Ho, ho, ho, no, no, Eugene! It was a courier boy, trying to explain why they delayed delivery of passports - and I have to explain to irate customers! What can I say, Eugene, they all get mad at a girl, just as you are getting mad at me now… you are not? Well, you sounded cross…Eugene! If you say one more word, I will get cross! Yes, I will, I cannot stand men who don’t trust women! You have no idea what we girls have to put up with. Goodbye!

[hangs up the phone gently

and waits. There is silence]

SHANTI

[putting her head through

the door conversationally]

I wonder who will call first – Vikram or Eugene?

REKHA

[crossly]

It is none of your business! I hate them both!

[A phone rings. Both the women

look at each other dramatically.

Then composing herself REKHA

picks it up slowly, shaking

back a curl to fit the receiver]

REKHA

Yogi Tours and Travels! Professor Sabbarwal! Glad you called, Sir! I have finished doing your tickets just now, and we have got all the routings you wanted… what Sir? The University has cancelled the conference? I am very sorry, Sir. Will you be going next month, then?… What? You don’t know?… Well, Sir, I have just booked all the sectors, and I am afraid I have to charge cancellation fees! Can’t help it, Professor, you know, IATA Rules and all that. Well, let me get to my computer, and maybe I can cancel the last two sectors before they are confirmed… it will save maybe a couple of thousand? But still the cancellation charges may come to twenty-thousand rupees, Sir?… I am sorry, Sir… Exactly, Sir, cannot be helped, Sir. I’ll remember this loss, Professor, I have noted it down already, and next time you go abroad, I’ll see about getting you upgraded to business class. Of course, Sir, a man of your eminence! Thank you, Sir.

[puts the phone down jubilantly]

There, Shanti! I have recovered your losses!

[Both women laugh happily.

The phone rings again. REKHA

picks it up cautiously]

REKHA

Yogi Tours and Travels! Oh… oh… I see… I don’t see… Do you really want me to believe all this? Why couldn’t you just come around and explain in person? You were afraid! You! I can’t believe it! Enough of this, Mr. Vikram Bahadur. There is a whole world of difference between us, Sir. You are a big prince – no that’s the truth, while I – while I - am just a poor, defenceless girl people like to take advantage of… Isn’t that true?… Come on, I’m not that simple-minded… You people think of us as playthings, right? Playthings of the hour to be discarded whenever you like…

[speaks rapidly with a sob]

…like last time, I’m sure you found someone more interesting – a lady of your class, I suppose, so that’s why you really didn’t turn up… What else am I to believe? No, I won’t listen… I dare not listen… Vikram, if… if you are at all sincere – and let me

tell you, I don’t believe you are – if you at all mean a tenth of what you say, you will come here tomorrow, ask me kindly to have lunch with you, and I’ll see if I am free, in which case I may, just may, say yes… You want to know if I have forgiven you?

REKHA [Con’d]

Forgiven you for what? We hardly know each other… Vikram, this is an office, remember! No! OK, come round tomorrow and we will see. Bye! Bye, Vikram!

[puts the phone down very gently]

SHANTI

I bet he’s hooked. Is he really the grandson of a maharajah?

[REKHA nods conspiratorially]

Oh, Rekha! You have hit the jackpot! But should you be so harsh with him?

REKHA

[whispers delightedly]

Shanti! That’s what keeps him interested!

[The phone rings again]

REKHA

[carelessly]

Yogi Tours and Travels! Oh, Eugene, I’m busy right now. What?

[laughs carelessly]

No, I’m not cross, why should I be? Of course, I didn’t keep the phone off the hook! This is an office, a very busy office, I can tell you, Eugene. Of course, lunch will be a grand idea! No, not tomorrow, I’m making bookings for a very important client – I have to, Eugene, my dear, I am a working girl, with no one to support me… My mother told me never ever to believe men, they lie just for fun… why should I think you are any different?… Oh, ho, ho! Those are big words, for a little boy… No, Eugene, you are a little boy to me, a little boy inside a big man… that make you feel better? All right, look, I have to get on with my work – OK, maybe the day after tomorrow – no, call me Saturday, that’s a good boy, and we will have all the time in the world! Bye, Eugene, bye!

SHANTI

Why do you want to lunch with Eugene? He’s got nothing to offer, except rather dim prospects. You have got Vikram Bahadur, heir to untold riches!

REKHA

[picking up her agenda]

Let me tell you, Shanti, keep as many strings to your bow as you can. You can never tell with men.

LIGHTS DIM AND OUT

SCENE 5

THE SETTING:              The living room of MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR. It is about tea time.

AS LIGHTS COME ON:             SAPNA and MUMTAZ are squatting on the floor, brooms and brushes laid aside, sipping cups of tea noisily.

SAPNA

She’s gone with that old Parsi woman – the only friend she has. Well, it gives us some quiet for a couple of hours, otherwise she’ll never let us sit in peace. Even if there’s nothing to do, she will find something for us to do, this Mahalakshmi.

[clicks her knuckles to her temples]

She won’t be back till sundown. They sit in their Club, and drink like men. She will be wobbling on her feet, wait and see.

[pulls her saree end over

her face to hide her smile]

MUMTAZ

This Madam, she’s become very old. I am afraid for her. One day she even called me Noorjehan! When I stood blinking, she slowly recollected my name – after years of service! When she was in good health, she used to dismiss me every week. Now, she dismisses me only every now and then – I am very worried for her. God should take her away when she is still well enough to live life!

SAPNA

I don’t wish that at all! Think what will happen to us! If she goes today, we will both be in the street tomorrow! Who will employ us? I have known no other house but this for twenty years! My husband is gone – not that he was any good –I have no one but this old woman, and she will leave us nothing, I promise you!

[wipes her eyes with her saree end]

MUMTAZ

She will not be so unjust, Sapna behen. She knows we have looked after her well. She once told me –‘Don’t worry, I am here. I will look after you in this world, and from beyond.’

SAPNA

[snapping]

You are a fool. You get taken in by everyone. She is very cunning. She tells us these stories to make us work harder, and

then one day she will be gone, like a queen, and we will die in the street like beggars.

MUMTAZ

Allah will protect us, sister! He sees everything, he is just, don’t worry. We have never done anything wrong. I have always given what money I could at the Pir’s shrine - and for Ganesh puja. Even for Bada-din I turn up at the Isayi Church to celebrate. At Eid I feed at least one beggar!

SAPNA

[laughing through her

saree end]

You! You feed a beggar? You fool, you are a beggar yourself! Just look at yourself!

MUMTAZ

[pulling herself up

with simple dignity]

My family once were well off. My grandfather had a horse, and someone to feed it. After his death, his second wife’s sons took away all the property – my father was too trusting! But Allah watches, and everyone will be properly punished on Judgment Day!

SAPNA

[drily]

And till then, we have to put up with this mad Madam. This is our fate.

MUMTAZ

Helping someone else will be remembered, and watch – we will be rewarded in time.

SAPNA

[stonily]

You should have saved some money instead. And put it in the bank.

MUMTAZ

[wide-eyed]

Do you have a bank account, Sapna behen?

SAPNA

[hastily, regretting

what she had said]

Yes, not much. God knows where it is – I have lost track. What can I save in this kind of a job, I am just an illiterate cook?

I also break coconuts at the temple - paying from my own wages, so Bhagwan knows I am not cheating him. But, do you see the crowd of beggars in the street in front of the temple? Does God care for them? No!

MUMTAZ

[serenely]

They have sinned, that’s why they suffer. We are poor, true. Our Memsahib is exacting, but she is not a bad mistress. So, we are taken care of by Allah, and he will look after us till he calls us to his heaven. Have no fear in your heart.

[leans forward and moves

her hand across SAPNA’s body

as if banishing evil]

SAPNA

How can we trust a mad woman, Mumtaz Bee? All this fuss about a dead dog! She cares more for that dead dog, than for me, who has slaved for her like a dog – worse than a dog – for twenty years!

MUMTAZ

That’s where you are wrong. She cares even for a dead dog! So, she will care of her living servants. If a master does not care for servants, who else will care? It is the law of Nature, don’t worry!

SAPNA

She – she is hard hearted. All that food I put in the dog’s dish, we eat that food later, why should we waste it? But I feel like a dog, taking it from that dish! Does she care, does she even know?

MUMTAZ

Allah knows! He knows everything. There is no harm done. I clean that dish just as I clean every other dish – who knows who has eaten from what dish? That dish is just like any other dish.

SAPNA

You have an answer for everything. You are simple. That is your strength, but I worry, I am unhappy, with no one to share my pain but you, a Muslim!

MUMTAZ

A Muslim means to be God-fearing, you are also God-fearing, so we are sisters, don’t worry.

SAPNA

[hiding her face in her saree]

I am sure I was a bad woman in my last life, otherwise why would God punish me like this? Even that drunken, stupid no-good husband was taken away from me. He never liked me, from the first day of our marriage. He always only wanted that other woman, though she was much darker than me, almost black she was, and yet he wanted her. Why? What is wrong with me? He gave her everything, everything my father had given me, even my gold chain. He gave her three sons! Finally, he threw me out of the house, saying I cried too much. What did he expect, that I would laugh? I was literally in the street, Mumtaz, my brothers looked the other way, for who will take back a discarded woman? I cooked in an ashram for a while, and slept on the pavement outside. That matron there recommended me to this Madam, that’s how I came here, long ago. But you are a Muslim, you can marry another husband if you like, not like us Hindu women. Why not marry Mumtaz Bee, and have someone to depend on?

MUMTAZ

Hai, Allah! Men are not to be depended on, Sapna behen. You found that out, so why talk of a man? When I was sixteen, I was not so bad looking. My mother tried to look for a good match, but what could a poor woman do by herself? Father… father had lost interest in his family… we would see him only at night, late… my mother always stayed up for him… he wanted his biryani hot before going to bed… he was born in a better world, I don’t blame him, it was Allah’s wish. Anyway, she did hear of a good match, he had a government job and only one sister… my mother was so happy, but then it turned out he was an Ansari while as you know we are Syeds… how could he aspire to marrying into our family?

[There is silence between the two]

SAPNA

So, you never married?

MUMTAZ

[nods sorrowfully]

We never had money for the marriage. Who will marry me? Anywhere in the world, in any religion, men marry only beautiful rich

MUMTAZ [Con’d]

women, right? Even Memsahib cannot get married, even with her money.

SAPNA

[laughing]

Madam getting married – what a sight that would be! She would drive any poor man mad the very first day! But tell me, I never knew you had caste system even among Muslims?

MUMTAZ

Why not? We are all in Hindustan.

 [MUMTAZ puts down her

tea cup, and gets up

slowly, clutching a broom]

MUMTAZ

Come, I will go and sweep out the front verandah. See the dust that blows in every day? One day there will only be dust everywhere, and not a single tree anywhere! She blames me for the dirt, but there was no dust, remember, when we had that

empty ground with those old trees? Now the trees are all gone, along with the ground the children played in, all made into big apartments for the rich! And it is their cars that blow dust everywhere! She doesn’t blame them, only me!

SAPNA

[also getting up, and

gathering the cups

onto a tray]

I have a hundred things to do. The moment she comes in, she will know what I have left undone. She is a witch, I tell you.

[SAPNA goes back through the

door into the kitchen. MUMTAZ

starts to sweep the front of

the stage]

LIGHTS DIM AND OUT

SCENE 6

THE SETTING:                   Mixed lounge of an old Club in the city. There is an old, large, sagging sofa in the middle with a long coffee table in front, and teapoys on both sides. The table is loaded with plates of pakodas, sandwiches, and cashew nuts. There is also a decanter of red wine, and glasses. Behind the sofa on the wall is a large faded print of a painting of a horse by Stubbs.

AS LIGHTS COME ON:             MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR and MRS DINAZ IRANI are seated on the sofa, chatting, with glasses of red wine in their hands.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Mira, I have a favour to ask, my dear. My bearer has run away after fifteen years of indifferent service. That’s how it is with Pahadis, you think they will be with you forever, that their family means nothing to them other than a drain on their savings, then one day they think of their cool hills, hate the stink and the heat here, and are gone in a flash, without even a goodbye or a thank you.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

My father had sixteen loyal servants and paid them less than what I give these two I have got – and then I have to give them sweets for Diwali, and Eid, and a new saree each, every New Year. Pampered and useless… pampered and useless…disloyal, disloyal to me, who is like a mother to them, gossiping about me up and down the street, as if I don’t know! All servants are disloyal and ungrateful! It is a law of Nature. Newton should have discovered that, instead of fiddling around with apples.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[moderately]

But we need them, such as they are. What I want to know, Mira, is whether I can ask your servants to help out when you are gone to Canada. I just need a couple of hours help every day, that’s all.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

It’s all nonsense about my going to Canada. You know what I went through last month getting up to that Consulate. It was the most horrendous journey, no one helps old people, there are no facilities whatever, anywhere. If Nehru were still alive I would have spoken to him and had all those careless youngsters fired. It was worse in the Consulate! The man was an idiot, had no manners, and kept asking me to prove I would not stay back in his wretched iceberg of a country. I said no power on earth would induce me to live there! He said, ‘then you don’t want to go there?’ I said I was not looking forward to seeing my daughter-in-law’s face, and how she mistreats poor dear Arun! Then he said, ‘so you don’t want to go?’ I said that’s right, and left.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

They can all be difficult, my dear, the world is not what it used to be. When I first went to England with poor Feroze, everyone was such a gentleman, even apologizing for the food shortage. Dickie had made all the arrangements – a Viceroy commanded far greater respect those days than the poor Prince of Wales does today - but it was difficult you know, very difficult – there were not enough eggs for Feroze to have his Spanish omelettes in the morning, but people were charming.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[with a cackle]

Nowadays you get plenty of eggs – in your face – the moment you land at Heathrow!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

I hate to travel – I have no one in England anymore, all our set are dead – even Dickie, who I thought was indestructible, blown up by mad Irishmen! But you have a son, dear. Arun is making all arrangements and you will be happy.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[in lowered voice]

The fact is, Bobby, I am not at all sure of that. What I am sure of is that woman doesn’t want me there! She puts on a big show in front of everybody, but she is a piece of green chilli, I tell you. It’s the worst match the poor boy could have made – and why? Because they had similar names in college! He was silly beyond words – but I am sure she trapped him – she is that cunning sort. I knew it would be disastrous, but I didn’t interfere – I just told him he was playing with fire, he didn’t

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR [Con’d]

know women – how could he? He was brought up with all the care I could bestow, but naturally I didn’t tell him about the other sort of women!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[unconvincingly]

You should have put your foot down.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Of course I tried to save him! But when I saw he was besotted, I said, ‘You are dicing with death, but it is your life!’ I am very principled that way, I’m not an interfering mother like poor Raj’s mother was. Oh, she was a real Medusa-like character – I mean like Medea, killing her own son! I was a young, innocent bride in a strange house, dreadfully scared of that termagant, and did she even once try to make me feel at home? No! She did everything to break our marriage, right from our wedding night! I have never told this to anyone, but she kept Raj up all night talking to him till she was sure I had fallen asleep, only then would she let him come to bed. She was a witch, who held her son in thrall as long as she lived, far too long!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[with a distant giggle]

Feroze’s mother was just the opposite – pushing us into romantic corners and then archly leaving us alone – how we used to giggle! She was desperate for a grandson, poor thing.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Parsees are civilized. Hindu mothers-in-law are devils – ask anyone. That’s why I was determined to be different. I was so polite, so considerate to… to that woman. But right from day one, I could see what sort of person she was. Did you know she almost killed poor Raj?

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[shocked]

Good Lord! What did she do?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Poor Raj used to be so ill those days most of the times – he was overweight, and wheezed a lot – of course it all came from his mother stuffing him with indigestible food everyday when she was alive – anyway, I thought it would do him good to have a break

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR {Con’d]

in Simla with its healthy mountain air, but that woman forbade it! Heartless creature!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[dazed]

Forbade Raj going to Simla?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Yes! Just because they were honeymooning there! Of course I had booked us all at Cecil’s – where else is there in Simla? It was just my simple-mindedness – I thought, ‘she is a young bride, may need some help, and I can show her how to take care of Arun’ – but she showed her fangs the moment the knot was tied! And Arun caught a cold in Simla! If she had let me come, I’d have seen to it he was properly covered.

[The two ladies take meditative

sips of wine in a short silence]

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[vaguely]

My dear, what can I say? Maybe it will all turn out well in the end. You may find that now they have a son, and both are working, well it could be quite different in a new country.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[with definiteness]

Not with that woman.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Anyway, I suppose you don’t mind if I have the use of your servants when you are away?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

You are welcome if you wish to risk a robbery! Not that I am going anywhere – those people at the Consulate! Why don’t you try Dial-a-Servant?

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Mira! Unknown domestics in my house! I would rather sweep my own house than risk my life with unknown people!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

You are wrong there, Bobby. Police have records of everyone coming from an agency, and these servants know it – it’s these pack-rats at home that strike when least expected! Read the

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR [Con’d]

papers! That Mumtaz woman who works for me, I am sure she is just waiting to steal my jewels and my sarees. The films are to blame, of course, giving the lower classes desires far above

their station. I could have trusted my life with any one of our several servants in my father’s house, but I wouldn’t trust a silver teaspoon with this Mumtaz, and this Sapna!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Of course, living on a pittance as they do, they get tempted perhaps…

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[regally]

I beg your pardon, Dinaz Irani! I never thought you were a Bolshie! Pittance! Pittance, did you say? I give them wages far above anything they could get anywhere else! And look how dirty my house always is – Mumtaz just cannot sweep clean! She thinks it is beneath her to do so. With a name like that I don’t wonder! Tomorrow she will expect me to walk backwards in her presence! And Sapna poisons me with her cooking, like she did her husband. And for all this I house them – do you know what rents are like nowadays in the city? And they steal my cakes – they steal Wolfgang’s food – as if I don’t know!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[both taken aback

and amused]

Sorry, my dear, I didn’t mean to imply… I am sure you are the soul of generosity… I meant it’s natural… I meant… understandable that they are tempted…

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[after a moment]

I know that quiet snigger of yours, Dinaz Irani, known it from our schooldays. You think I am crazy because of Wolfgang, don’t you? Admit it.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

No! No! Not crazy at all, Mira, just overdoing it a bit, perhaps. Natural you should have loved Wolfgang – he was a great dog – the operative word is ‘was’ – he’s gone, you’ve grieved, and now you must move on…

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

The point is, he’s not gone! I feel his great head against my knee sometimes. I see him now and then, he guards me still. Why

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR  [Con’d]

do you think that cunning, obsequious woman, Mumtaz, has not made her move? I bet she sees him too, admitted as much one day!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

All right, he guards you as a spirit. But don’t you think putting food in his dish everyday is a bit… how shall I say? Can lead to misunderstanding? We all live on the edge, Mira, and anything can sort of take us round the bend…

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[decidedly]

I am going to let you into a secret. Do you know Ovid?

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[confused]

What?… Oh, not for a long time. I stopped taking fertility pills long ago… they don’t work most times, in any case…

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Don’t be dense, Bobby. I mean Ovid the Roman poet. Have you read him?

MRS DINAZ IRANI

No! Should I have?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[leans forward excitedly,

and pours out a large

measure of wine for both]

He wrote the mythical history of Europe during the days of Alexander – I mean Augustus, when people did not dismiss myths, but knew myth was history – magical history!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[relieved]

Oh, I am so glad you are occupying your mind with something improving!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[chuckling]

More than that! I am discovering the real forces behind life and death!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[mundanely]

I am glad.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

You don’t see, do you? I’ll tell you – tell you all, now that I have started, I must share the excitement with someone, and no one better than you, Bobby.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[suddenly touched]

That’s very sweet of you, my dear!

[leans over and kisses

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR on the cheek]

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Ovid was not just a poet – he was a seer! He knew exactly what it was all about. He describes everything like a scientist, except those days they called all wise men poets. So, you see, I know now what to do!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[getting alarmed]

What are you going to do, Mira? Tell me, for God’s sake!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[comfortably]

Only, exactly the way he’s sketched it out. It’s very simple, really. You have heard of Orpheus, haven’t you?

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Orpheus? Is it some kind of software?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[laughs happily]

Bobby dear, you must read Ovid! Orpheus was the very soul of Music, he was Music personified. When he played his lyre, Nature herself listened. He loses his love, Eurydice, on their wedding day, and uses his music to open a path down to Hades – to hell, and wins her back, but of course loses her again. The world was not yet ready for such a quick change between the eternal opposites – life and death!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

What a lovely old story!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Much more than that, Bobby. Ovid in his Meta… Metamorph… – it’s all about changes, how everything can change into its opposite, gods into men and – watch this, men into gods, that means having

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR [Con’d]

god-like powers – the real question is, when can they get these powers? Ovid is very, very clear on that crucial point. Things get created, the world, the universe is created through – listen closely, Bobby – ‘the discordant harmony of opposites’ - get that? When you have fantastic changes, when North Pole becomes South Pole, that sort of thing. We, my dear Bobby, are in the middle of such a creative change – of the discordant harmony of opposites!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

No one told me that the North Pole was changing into the South Pole!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

No! But we are in the middle of Global Warming! The ice-caps are melting, while we here are being lashed by heavy rain in summer. It’s all happening!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

I am very stupid today. What’s all happening?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Bobby, the Orphic time has arrived, only it will be its opposite! It’s all full of serendipity and synchronicity, and all that sort of thing. Don’t you see, I had to name him Wolfgang? He was not like a wolf at all as a wee little pup, he was more than half a Lab – I had to… because of Mozart who was the Orpheus of our age! So, I have to do exactly as Orpheus did – in fact, much better the way Ovid instructs, only it’s Orpheus or Wolfgang who is down there, and I, the woman, who has to get him back! It’s all very clear.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[fearfully]

What are you going to do?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[calmly]

One is not supposed to explain the magical – it sort of loses its power, or something. Anyway, it’s forbidden. But you yourself can see all the parallels. I’m to go on a great journey – it could easily be the death of me – it will be if that woman has her wish. And I go where? To Canada! In a world of global warming, Hades must be freezing, right? What is really exciting, Bobby, is that Orphism is linked to the cult of Dionysus, the fertility god, worshipped in secret rites by women from the

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR [Con’d]

beginning of time, the God who ensures rebirth after death – and why, because he is the son of Zeus and Persephone, the goddess of the underworld! As I said, it’s all very clear!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Clear as mud. Anyway, I am glad that Arun will be there to - see that you are OK in Toronto.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

I am not going there at all. I am going to Ontario. I know, for I memorized his address. It has a camel in it.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Camel? What do you mean camel?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Oont! Oont is a camel. He lives in Oont, Ontario, camel - that’s how I remember the name of that city.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Ontario is a province. It’s bigger than Texas!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Nothing can be bigger than the taxes we pay! I live on my savings, which have been taxed already – why should I pay taxes every year? These Finance Ministers are crooks, and I have half a mind to take them to the Supreme Court!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[patiently]

I meant Arun lives in Toronto, which is a city in Ontario. You are going to Toronto.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Does it also have camels? Can’t be like ours – how do they stay warm?

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[after a pause]

I think I should take you home now. I am tired. You must be also.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[stifling a yawn]

Yes, let’s go home. I am tired. I think it’s the wine – they adulterate everything these days.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

No, don’t try and get up. I will get my driver to help us both. Bearer! Bearer! You there! Ask my driver to come up, please.

LIGHTS DIM AND OUT

SCENE 7

THE SETTING:              A modern office in Toronto. The back wall is really a huge glass window through which we seem to see other skyscrapers. Two comfortable leather chairs with two symmetrical potted plants are ranged round a low table, which carries two open lap-tops. Forenoon.

AS LIGHTS COME ON:             ARUNA and IDA are seated on the chairs, talking.

IDA

I think it’s wonderful how an Indian family stays together! I mean the joint families you have – the kids get to know all their aunties and grow up together. My dad said they tried it at the kibbutz, but it just didn’t work.

ARUNA

[looking at her lap-top]

Well, it gets a bit much in India too. People prefer nuclear families these days – except of course the poor, who cannot afford to, but I bet they would jump at the chance if they could.

IDA

[slightly dashed, but

cheering up again]

I guess this globalization gets to everybody. But it can’t be as bad as it is here. I mean, you moved heaven and earth to get your mom-in-law here – I can’t see many of us doing that!

ARUNA

[looks up with a smile]

Oh, I don’t mind the old bat! She is queer to the gills!

IDA

[alarmed]

She is queer, is she?

ARUNA

I mean she is barmy, potty, mad as a hatter! You will get a laugh when you see her treating her fat son like a baby. She

ARUNA [Con’d]

doesn’t give a damn about her daughters, though they all live around her – it’s her son who is a demi-god!

IDA

[thoughtfully]

Yes, Jewish mothers tend to be like that too. It’s maybe because of some kind of collective unconscious fear, you know? Being driven out all the time from one country or other. Your only hope gets to be your male son, I guess?

ARUNA

Well, Hindu women have not been driven anywhere, they have just been sitting in one spot for millennia, doting on their sons.

IDA

What about you and Chippoo? You almost risked a major contract the other day to get him back from school and safe with your sister?

ARUNA

[angrily]

What else could I do, Ida? That father of his was in heat wanting to score with that cow of an assistant he’s got! I just had to give up everything and attend to Chippoo! That poor boy, you don’t know what he goes through, almost like a fatherless child – he is a fatherless child! He has no one to depend on except me, and I will look after him… after all, I am his mother!

IDA

[with a little smile]

You mean right through to college? He has his friends, Aruna, and there will be girls after him soon, he’s such a handsome boy.

ARUNA

[proudly]

He is beautiful, isn’t he? And he is clever, I know, for I sit with him everyday when he does his homework. There is no one else to help him, his father is useless. And I am very careful he eats properly, this is a very cold climate for us Indians, and he must keep his strength up, so I insist he finishes his meals properly.

IDA

[digging a little]

Problems begin when kids start dating. They hang out together, eat fast food, and drink too much beer, maybe even smoke dope.

ARUNA

[leaning forward with

worried concern]

I have to be very careful about what kind of friends he makes. He is an Indian child after all, he must be brought up on our values. I have never believed in premature experiences – look how I got trapped by being too trusting! I am bracing myself to check out any girl he asks home – so far, thank goodness, he cares only for me!

IDA

How do you think he will take to his grandmother’s visit?

ARUNA

I have no doubt that old bat would be charming to him. Indian women adore the male scions of their family – I can never understand that - for they have come from some other family, right? Many times at night, I cry myself to sleep, thinking of my poor dear father… he did so much for me, gave me so much love, and I have done nothing for him! Even the sweaters I send to him, what can he do with them, except wear them for one chilly evening in India?

IDA

I am looking forward to meeting this daunting mother-in-law of yours, I must say.

ARUNA

Just don’t let her fool you for a second with her superficial charm. They trained them like that in the old days, to be false, through and through. She hates me, not that I care. She only wants to see her darling son… she is welcome to marry him! She will try and brainwash Chippoo, but thank goodness she will leave by October, and I will get him back!

[leans forward passionately]

I really cannot understand how intelligent, well-educated women – she got the best education she could get in her time, mind you - and with money - could still get fixated on their son! And they ruin them by possessing them, and smothering them, till their sons are good for nothing! And their reward is their sons end up hating them, but are too timid to break free! These

ARUNA [Con’d]

Indian women, I tell you, are just impossible! I believe they are the ones who are really responsible for the way India is, with repressed infantile men unable to make the economy go anywhere!  I don’t want my poor Chippoo to be influenced by her – she is the worst of her kind! He is my only son, and it is my duty to protect him, and I shall, all my life!

IDA

[meditatively]

Why do you think women have a different relationship with their daughters? Why are they not so possessive about them as well?

ARUNA

[quickly]

Of course they are! I mean – no, you are right, it is different with daughters, somehow. Oh, I don’t know, who knows? Maybe Freud wrote something about all that? – you better read it up.

IDA

[slowly]

I think it is quite simple, really – like the difference between cats and dogs. Women do not want to be possessed. If a woman ever permits that, she is lost forever. A woman maybe feels the forces of change all her life, inside herself, and all around her as well. Nothing is ever static, is it? It’s all movement, everything changing, metamorphosing in opposite directions. She’s got to make a life out of all this discordance, create a moment of harmony? She has to be free to do this – no, that’s not right - I mean, she welcomes ties, certainly, but she does not want to be possessed, her will has to be her own.

ARUNA

[a little confused, but

not really interested]

And it is different with men? How?

IDA

Maybe they don’t see the movement – they are in charge, right? So they think everything is static, ready for them to order things, and people about. They never look for equal relationships with women, do they? Our presence in their lives is like an accolade – we are the trophies they win. So, they are unaware when they get possessed by a mother, or by a wife, or a lover. They never see how everything gets crippled over time, including their power over women. 

ARUNA

[now genuinely confused]

But, but… women like to possess don’t they, I mean don’t we, we like to possess men and sons and lovers, don’t we?

IDA

[with a slow smile]

Yes… We like to do unto others what we don’t want done unto us.

LIGHTS DIM AND OUT

SCENE 8

THE SETTING:                   The same as Scene 1. Around ten in the morning.

AS LIGHTS COME ON:             MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR is seated in her usual chair, and MRS DINAZ IRANI in another easy chair. A large suitcase lies open before them, with clothes and trinkets scattered all round. SAPNA and MUMTAZ stand respectfully at a distance.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[speaking tiredly to

both servants]

You are both to work at Madam’s house, do whatever she asks. Of course you will get paid extra. There is very little to do here. Just keep most rooms locked up, and the front verandah and the back-yard swept and clean everyday. The neighbours should not call in the Municipal health authorities, that is all I ask. The house should be kept ready for my return – in case I don’t die on the way!

[The servants hurriedly cover

their ears at the inauspicious words]

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[heartily]

Of course you will be back chirpier than ever! Think of all that good wine and cheese you will have out there!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[querulously]

In Canada, are you joking?

MRS DINAZ IRANI

My dear, you find everything everywhere these days, except of course in India – but the day is not far off when we’ll be able to just get the best from our own club canteen, you watch and see.

[turning to the servants]

You are both old servants, you know exactly what to do here. I also know, and I shall inspect every other day, don’t forget! Now what I want from you two is just two hours help everyday, is that understood?

[The servants nod dutifully]

MRS DINAZ IRANI

You will find me generous.

[turning to MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR]

Mira, I have come here to help you pack. As I expected you have no idea what to take. Why so much stuff? You wouldn’t be able to find anything, and you will just tire yourself rummaging. Half of these things I am going to tell them to put back in your cupboards!

[starts to pull things out of the suitcase]

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[plaintively]

I am just taking what I normally use everyday, that’s all. I can’t be asking that woman for an extra petticoat, or brassiere. Put that box down, Bobby, that has my stockings, I’d need to keep warm in that beastly climate. Remember how we used to shiver in Leeds all the time, and Canada is much much colder.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

They have central heating, Mira, which we never had. Canadian houses are hot-houses, they tell me. All right, keep your old woolen stockings, you will never use them. Look at this load of old photos! Why do you need them there, for heaven’s sake?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[stiffly]

You are forgetting I have a grandson there who is being brought up like a savage. I want to show him pictures of his father as a boy, his grandfather’s house, how we were accustomed to live in the good old days. I want him to be proud of the family whose heir he is – I am sure that woman would have told him nothing! She wants to own my grandson – that I will never allow. If it were not for the thought of rescuing that poor child, I would never leave… if Arun really ever cared for me, his poor mother who slaved all her life only for his well-being, he would come back to India and be by my side!

[MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR breaks down

into tears, MRS DINAZ IRANI pats

her hand, while the servants

clucking miserably to themselves

press her shoulders]

SAPNA

Amma, you are like a mother to us, if you cry our hearts will surely break!

MUMTAZ

[going to the kitchen]

I will get a glass of water for Madam, with a bit of sugar in it.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[suddenly looking up]

What did I tell you, Bobby? That Muslim woman has no real sympathy for me, let alone loyalty – this woman at least kneads my aching shoulders, that one just went off.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

I think she did a wise thing. You do need a glass of water. Here it is, drink it.

[MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR dutifully

drinks the water offered to

her by MUMTAZ]

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

They are both hovering around because they saw me buying some new sarees from Vimala the other day. They are hoping I would give them a saree each as a going-away present. Well, I am not going to do that.

[turning to the servants]

Here you! I am all right now! Don’t just stand around doing nothing! Both of you go to the kitchen and get us some tea – English style, mind you – with some ‘digestive’ biscuits. Go!

[The servants scurry off]

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Why do you keep buying sarees? You never wear them!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

What a question! Because I love buying sarees, that’s why! I do wear a saree on Independence Day. I will not appear at a Public Function in salwar and kameez! I need a belt now to hold my saree up, very ugly, but what can I do, my hips are gone! Remember what a figure I used to have, Bobby? The men could hardly ever take their eyes off me, it was quite laughable! Anyway, when Chippoo grows up and marries, I want to be able to give my grandson’s bride the best collection of sarees in India!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[unable to contain her

amazement or laughter]

Chippoo getting married? Give them to your daughters – or to your daughter-in-law!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[flatly]

My daughter-in-law wears business suits – she is a man. But you are right – I must stop patronizing Vimala. She has always overcharged me, but I have always beaten her down. But now she thinks she can take liberties. She brought this sly friend of hers last time, Sundari – no, Savitri – who she said was an expert born in a great weaving family. A pack of lies, Bobby! I could see immediately the woman knew nothing about sarees except what anyone can pick up window shopping in the vulgar way these working women have. Anyway I didn’t let on I knew they were up to something, and soon the truth came out – that woman, Kalyani –no, Savitri – has a brother, who is a masseur or something, and she wanted me to ask Arun – Arun – the soul of rectitude, to sponsor him to Canada. I just nodded innocently, and sent them off. What cheek!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

I believe there is a great demand in Canada for people with hospital experience, or who have worked in clinics.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

How could I trust anything these women said, after they told me  such a barefaced lie? Weaving family from Kanchipuram indeed! I suspect the fellow is a terrorist, and is trying to flee the country!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

A lower middle-class Hindu? Come on, Mira, he’s most probably just trying to better himself, and why not?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[doggedly]

We know all about Muslims, like this sly Mumtaz, they are out in the open. Hindus make the worst terrorists, because they are not suspected. Or he could have burnt his wife, or done something equally horrible – I won’t recommend such people to poor innocent Arun, no, I won’t!

[A phone is heard ringing.

MUMTAZ comes running in

with a cordless phone]

MUMTAZ

Madam! Madam! Phone from far-off! Chinna Madam I think, Madam?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Chinna Madam? There is no Chinna Madam. Yes… hello! Speaking… Oh! It’s you, Aruna? How are you, dearest? Yes, I am dying to see you all. Can I get anything for you, dear Aruna? Sarees?… but you never have time to dress well – you have to wear all those mannish suits, poor girl. Women are beginning to wear them all over India these days, they look so ugly! I thought of getting you a suit from one of our best designers here, but I don’t know your present size, dear, one tends to bloat up with time…What?… Thank you, my dear, thank you… no, I don’t need a wheelchair at the airport… no dear, I don’t use a walker as yet… no, nor an ear trumpet as yet, my hearing is as sharp as ever… thank you my dear, I am in the best health…what was that?… Arun…what about Arun! Is he ill! Is that why you are calling! What is the matter!… Is he all right?… Thank Goodness, for that… Oh, he is overworking, is he? Well, men, my dear, do that when there is something making them unhappy… my sainted husband never overworked… what was that?… of course, he worked… he worked very hard, but never overworked, for he was so happy with me… What was that? Arun is still at work – it must be midnight! He will catch a chill! No, no, no! You did right to call me… I shall certainly call Arun right away and tell him to get out of that stupid administrative meeting! A meeting after midnight, indeed! There should be a law against driving specialists so hard! Thank you for giving me his special cell-number. If he does not listen to his mother, who will he listen to? And when I come over there, I will give an earful to the hospital authorities! Goodbye, dear, goodbye!

[presses the button down

and starts to redial]

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[thoughtfully]

Just a minute, Mira. Should you call him now? It could be something special, and Aruna… well, Aruna…you know…

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[as she dials]

Dinaz, I am going to call my son right now! I will not have him working at all hours out of a misguided sense of duty… my poor

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR [Con’d]

boy… Arun? Arun, this is Mama! Yes, calling from India! What do you mean, don’t shout? I’ll shout! Why are you not home? It’s midnight!… What did you say?… Of course, it’s your mother!… What is all that laughter in the background I can hear? Don’t keep saying, Mama, like that, I have very sharp ears, you know. The point is by now you should be in bed!… Who’s that? Who spoke just now?… Arun? Arun!… Who was that drunken woman, and how dare she make fun of me and say you were in bed!… Yes, your wife gave me this number…I heard that, that’s no way to speak of any woman, even your wife… Arun, darling, I don’t want to nag, have I ever nagged?… I am speaking only for your own good! You will wear yourself out into a shadow… don’t say I have spoilt everything, darling, I am only trying to help… Arun? Arun?… He’s switched it off. Well, he was always an impulsive boy, but dedicated to the task at hand, I’ll give him that.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[smiling quietly]

Never mind, Mira, I am sure he will go home now. It’s time we concentrated on throwing out all the things you don’t need from your suitcase, and packing only the essentials. For example, you really don’t need this sheaf of photographs of Wolfgang!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[desperately]

I need them, of course, I need them! I may have to show them!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Show them? Show them to whom?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

For identification! To identify Wolfgang! There may be so many others – in Hades, I mean!

[MRS DINAZ IRANI stands

staring at her friend]

LIGHTS DIM AND OUT

SCENE 9

THE SETTING:                   Same as Scene 1. Late afternoon.

AS LIGHTS COME ON:        Almost everyone is assembled in the living room, except for the two servants and MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

She’s taking a long time to get dressed. I said I would help but she shooed me downstairs. She better hurry – they won’t keep the plane waiting for her, as they did trains in the old days!

[raising her voice]

Mira! Mira! Come down! Security takes forever! Just hurry, my dear!

VIMALA

[softly in an aside

to SAVITRI]

Did she ever do anything about your brother? She is such a slippery devil!

SAVITRI

[shaking her head vigorously]

No, no, no! Poor old lady! Dr. Arun did write to Gopal, told him how to go about it. There are many formalities it seems which have to be completed first. Once those stages are past, he will put up Gopal’s name to the hospital board for employment. My brother is very happy!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Mumtaz! Sapna! Jaldi! Jaldi! Mira! There’s no time to be lost!

[turning to Rekha]

I hope you can manage it? My driver is an expert, but still, he can’t fly over the traffic!

REKHA

[checking her watch

for the nth time]

No, Madam. Shanti’s cousin is head of airport security, so she can take her in, avoiding the queue. I have already spoken to a friend at the counter, and her boarding pass has already been made. I’ve ordered a wheel-chair so she will be in the plane before the flight is called, but she must come down now!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Wheel-chair? She will resist like hell, she is so proud!

REKHA

Can’t be helped, Madam, if you want to avoid the crush – she would hate that more than the wheel-chair, and then blame me for the crowds!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Oh, by the way, I believe congratulations are in order? You are engaged, or about to be engaged, is that right?

REKHA

[smiling and checking

her watch once again]

Yes, Madam. He is a widower, and has a young boy. He is looking for a mother for his child. My family has arranged everything. It is a good match, they say.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[concerned]

A widower, Rekha? And with a young boy? Will you be happy in that set up?

REKHA

[with a wry smile, and

checking her watch again]

Beggars can’t be choosers, Madam, as they say. I met him once - when I was arranging tickets for him - he is a bit old, but it doesn’t matter with men, does it? I think he will be easy to get along with – he believes anything you tell him. But I will have to stop working to take care of the house, that’s what I regret most.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[doubtfully]

But still… I don’t see why you have to…

REKHA

[cutting it short]

He’s well-off, Madam, and he may even get a professorship in New Zealand. I would like that very much – it’s beautiful there, you can see by the posters!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[after a moment]

Who will replace you at the Yogi agency, Rekha? We had all come to depend on you.

REKHA

Well, Shanti, here, knows all the ropes. In fact, she did most of the work in any case, I just looked after customer relations. I have recommended that they appoint her, and I think they will.

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[turning to SHANTI]

Are you looking forward to the responsibility, my dear? You know everything, of course, but still it’s starting afresh…

REKHA

[cutting in impishly]

Oh, Madam, I am transferring all my contacts to Shanti, including my very best ones – I don’t need them, now I’ll be married. Shanti, I’ll give you Vikram Bahadur!

[SHANTI giggles]

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Vikram Bahadur? You mean Vicky? He never travels except to go up to Simla, or Darjeeling… Oh, I see, what you mean!

[All three laugh]

SHANTI

[suddenly]

I am in the travel agency business because I am carrying out a socio-psychological study on why people travel – why they feel they need to travel.

REKHA

[surprised]

Why you sly thing, you never told me!

SHANTI

That would spoil it, wouldn’t it, if people knew?

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[curious]

And what have you found?

SHANTI

[pedantically]

In pre-modern societies people spent a lot of time enjoying where they lived, building communities, planting gardens, being proud of their houses, that sort of thing. Nowadays people don’t want to do that – they know they don’t enjoy their

neighbourhoods, can’t bother with gardens, hate the people around. So they travel to distant places to try and find what they can’t at home, or don’t want to find at home. It’s a bit like why they are constantly falling in love these days. The parallels are striking. In pre-modern societies people prayed to God, went on pilgrimages for a mystical experience. Nowadays they know they can’t get a mystical experience doing that, or don’t want to take the trouble. So they fall in love looking for a mystical experience with another person, not far away or in heaven, but right at home. In both types of experience people insist on disappointment. The provisional title of my doctoral thesis is - Love and Travel: The Search for Definitive Disappointment! 

MRS DINAZ IRANI

[astounded]

Well, I’ll be damned!

SHANTI

[nods abstractly]

Yes, people can’t tolerate opposite forces, discordances in their lives, they have no time to permit slow development – what once was known as ‘ripeness.’ It’s instant culture nowadays, everything has to come pre-packaged – spiritual fast foods, so to speak. No time to create ‘discordant harmony’ – funny word – after the name of the daughter of Mars and Venus, the two opposites - she married Cadmus, you know, and their descendant was Oedipus, who married his own mother…   

[REKHA and MRS DINAZ

IRANI stand speechless.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR walks

down the steps, helped by

SAPNA and MUMTAZ. All three

are dressed in spanking

new sarees]

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[a trifle breathlessly]

I tried to wear poor Raj’s belt, but the buckle snapped, and we couldn’t find another one I liked. So at last I thought I would keep the saree up with one of his ties. Do I look like a pirate?

[turning to VIMALA]

Vimala! See, I am wearing one of your gorgeous new sarees. I have given two of the cheaper ones to Sapna and Mumtaz, I had them in mind when I bought them. You have such good taste, Vimala dear. They will all be envious of me in Canada – perhaps, I can help you start a brisk export business?

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Never mind all that, Mira, it’s time you left – there’s not a moment to be lost. If it were not for Rekha and Shanti you would never make it!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

I have every confidence in them.

[turning to SAPNA]

Come, come, come, take my blessings.

[SAPNA kneels down to touch

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR’s feet]

MRS. MIRA RAJKUMAR

Dhirgaushman Bhava! Sapna, I am leaving this house in your charge. You have been with me twenty years, you are like a daughter in your own house, so be careful, there are so many thieves about these days. I will come back as soon as I can, and if I don’t…

[MUMTAZ runs forward with

Wolfgang’s dish]

MUMTAZ

Amma! See, come back soon! Vulpi would be so lonely without you!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[melting]

You are such a good woman, Mumtaz. Come, come, touch my feet. You are Muslim but still take my blessings.

MUMTAZ

[falling at her feet]

You are my mother!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Allah will protect you! May all the Pirs bless you!

[MUMTAZ gets up and retreats

to the background]

VIMALA

[running forward to adjust

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR’s saree]

There, Madam, you look so beautiful!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[to SAVITRI]

My son has written to your brother, and I will personally see that everything is done when I am there. And now that he is settled – well, as good as settled since my Arun is managing everything - what do you plan to do with yourself? You have slaved all your life for your family, and lost your chance to get married. Now what will you do by yourself?

SAVITRI

[humbly]

If my brother is settled well, that’s all I care.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Nonsense! That’s the trouble with women – and you are even named Savitri! Dinaz, we must do something for this poor woman!

MRS DINAZ IRANI

We will talk about that after you get back! Now, you’ve to get going!

[SAVITRI nods tearfully, runs

forward and touches MRS

MIRA RAJKUMAR’s feet as well]

MRS DINAZ IRANI

Mira! Away with you! Rekha, Shanti, get moving, or we will be here forever with tearful farewells! There will be no need in ten seconds to say goodbye!

SAPNA

[tearfully in an aside to MUMTAZ]

She is going to her son! If I had had a son, I would not be so lonely!

[They all move in a procession out

front to the left. MUMTAZ at the back

attempts a feeble farewell bark

in imitation of Wolfgang]

LIGHTS DIM AND OUT

SCENE 10

THE SETTING:                   Living-room of the Arun Rajkumar upper middle-class home in Toronto. It is sumptuously appointed in a haphazard mixture of styles. In the middle is a large long leather sofa, and two chairs, around a coffee table in front. A pile of magazines, a box of chocolates, and a telephone sit on it. Wide French windows to the left look out onto to the front lawn, but the curtains are partially drawn obscuring the view. It seems to be a cold grey afternoon outside. The door at the back opens out into the hall. A few steps to the right leading upstairs from the hall can be seen through the door.

AS LIGHTS COME ON:             MRS.MIRA RAJKUMAR is seen fussing with a light overcoat, which she finally lays over the back of the sofa. She is dressed for travel. A couple of light black leather bags lie beside the table. The phone rings.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[picking up the telephone,

in a tense high-pitched voice]

Is that you, Bobby? Is that you, Bobby?

Voice of MRS DINAZ IRANI

[blaring]

For God’s sake, Mira! You almost broke my eardrum! You

don’t have to shout across from Canada to India, you know!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[looking incredulously at the machine]

It’s you who’s shouting! They can hear you all over this

blessed city!

Voice of MRS DINAZ IRANI

[blaring]

I am speaking quite normally. Now don’t start an argument,

Mira, you don’t have time! I have told you before, you’ve

got to adjust the volume on the speaker phone. That’s the

knob beside the large button you press!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[fiddling]

Oh, dear, there are so many of these fussy little buttons! Why do they complicate things!

[yells]

Can you hear me now!

Voice of MRS DINAZ IRANI

[normally]

Very well, my dear, thank you, if you’ll only remember that all you have you do is speak normally. Listen, Mira, I called to help you do a live action check, before you left on your journey home. Have you got your passport, your ticket, your money, in your handbag? Just check each one NOW!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[happily settling herself on the

 sofa with the phone and her handbag]

Don’t take me for a complete nitwit, Bobby! Of course, I have! Every half-an-hour! Have to, since Arun and his precious wife have deserted me in my hour of need. ’We’ll be back before it’s time for you to leave,’ she said! It’ll serve her right if I don’t leave at all!

Voice of MRS DINAZ IRANI

[consolingly]

We are all waiting for you to come back, my dear! It’s just been too long. Everything is just as you left it. Have you had a good time, Mira? I could never make out from your letters – you seemed to be up one day and down the next.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[opening the box of chocolates,

And popping one into her mouth]

Well, what did you expect? Well, all’s well that ends well, as they say. In fact, I am very glad there’s no-one around – I can unburden my soul as I haven’t been able to for quite some time.

[leans across to prop the

phone on a cushion]

This speaker phone thing is a great invention, Bobby, it leaves my hands free, I don’t have to hang on to it for dear life. I am propping it up against this cushion beside me – a pink cushion, so I’ll think you are sitting next to me. There! Now for our chat. Wait till I get home – I have stories to tell that will make your ears burn! Burn!

Voice of MRS DINAZ IRANI

[worried]

Tell me, are you bringing Chippoo home? If your grandson is coming, I have to get in some extra milk, and air out that guest room of yours. And, oh! Remember to buy a jar of thick-cut marmalade at the airport!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Chippoo in my house! Have you gone mad, Dinaz Irani? They have ruined him completely! He’s one hundred percent American, or Canadian, or whatever. No respect for his grandmother! It’s all her doing, I have no doubt! I wrote to you all about it – no, I didn’t post it, thought it’s better told in private. Well, when he is a little older, a little less savage, he’s bound to want to come to me. I will re-educate him then, slowly, like a Tarzan or a Mowgli.

[pops in another chocolate]

But they do make good chocolate here, Bobby. Laura Secord’s is almost as good as some of yours, Bobby – so there is hope yet for this blessed country.

Voice of MRS DINAZ IRANI

[still worried]

But you said everything was going according to your plan, Mira?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[chortling]

And it has! And how! And guess who helped me to pull it off? You’ll never guess – it was that woman!

[eats another chocolate]

We have had our fights, of course! Not that I started any, I have the patience of a saint, as you know, but there is just so much flesh and blood can take, and any advice I give, in good faith and only to help someone, married into my house willy-nilly, without the benefit of culture – instead of being grateful as a well-brought girl would be, she flies out with a retort, like any common fishwife – I am glad poor Raj is not alive to see this day!

Voice of MRS DINAZ IRANI

[puzzled]

But you said she helped… or, or that in some way…

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

That just shows there’s some good in everybody, but you have to be wise and patient like me to bring it out, even out of Aruna. Now, as you know, I had no expectation of any help from Aruna, but one day, in desperation, I said, ‘Dear Aruna…’

ARUNA

[bursting in through the door,

her coat over her arm]

Mama, I am sorry I’ve kept you waiting so long. The traffic is just impossible…

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[loudly]

Ha, ha, ha, Bobby! Dearest Aruna has just walked in. I told you not to worry, she is a very capable businesswoman, and is sure to get me to the airport on time. Aruna! Do say a word to Bobby, she’s worried I’ll miss my plane. She’s at the other end of the phone – remember her, white-haired, large, dotty?

Voice of MRS DINAZ IRANI

[raised]

Dotty, yourself, Mira Rajkumar! I am far more compos mentis than you, the whole of India knows that!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[half-laughing]

Good Lord, she heard me! Dotty only in the nicest way, Bobby dear, all the best people are. It’s sort of common not to be, don’t you agree, Aruna dear?

ARUNA

[into the speaker phone]

Hi, Mrs Irani, I hope you are well! There’s nothing to worry about at all. Arun and I have been packing and re-packing Mira’s suitcase for a whole week, and everything is finally in. All we have to do now is drive to the airport.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[guiltily]

Dear, dear Aruna, this morning I went down to that lovely store at the end of the street and bought a dozen of those soft Turkish hand-towels they had on sale. They are on my bed, could you put them in my suitcase? I dare not open it without you!

ARUNA

[with slight exasperation]

Oh, Mama! They are all made in India, all our textiles are, just look at the labels! You just have to ask for export quality rejects in any Indian shop, that’s all.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[with dignity]

My dear, I have never bought rejects in my life, and I don’t intend to start now!

ARUNA

[going out of the door]

All right, Mama, I will thrust them in, and lug down your suitcase. Arun will meet us at the airport. If there’s anything else to pack, tell me right now, we haven’t got all day!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[when alone]

What did I tell you, Bobby? No respect or even simple consideration for elders! Things were very different when we were young, as you know. Raj’s mother was such a bully, a Hitler in woman’s form, but was I ever rude to her? Never! I was oppressed when I was young, and I am oppressed now I am old!

Voice of MRS DINAZ IRANI

Oh, come off it, Mira! Now, for one last time, to please me, do an action check. Passport, Ticket, Money – and don’t stuff chocolates into your handbag, they will melt all over your papers – remember what happened when we two went to Goa!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[checking]

Don’t you bully me too, Dinaz Irani. You got that nasty habit being captain of the hockey team at school, and you still think you can whack anyone you like over the shins with your stick. Well, you can’t, we are not playing hockey anymore, thank goodness!  All correct and found in good order. I hear Aruna thumping down the stairs with my suitcase, and I am sure she will get me all flurried before we leave. So, goodbye dear, see you soon. I am switching off this machine. Oh, I forgot! Wait for the Surprise!

[switches off the phone firmly]

[ARUNA enters lugging in a heavy

suitcase. MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR sitting

composedly on the sofa pats a place

beside her. After a slight hesitation

ARUNA sits down beside her]

ARUNA

Mama, we haven’t got much time. We should leave soon. So if you need to go to the bathroom, I would do it now.

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[airily]

Oh, don’t worry about my plumbing, it’s holding up for now. And if I make a mess, they will just have to clean it up. Now, let me look at you. You are so beautiful!

ARUNA

Oh, Mama! We must be moving… the traffic, you should have seen…

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[comfortably]

All that can wait, my dear. I want you to know, dear girl, that I am truly grateful for all the help you have given me. You have helped me accomplish what I came for in Canada. Arun was no help. Men are like that.

ARUNA

Mama, it was nothing! Once I knew what you wanted, I had fun helping out…

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[holds ARUNA’s hands,

interrupting her]

Aruna, I am old, but I have my wits about me, and I see everything, even though I come from another world, another time. Some things don’t change, never have. Arun and you made a magnificent couple at your reception, everyone envied me!

[ARUNA nods and tries to

free her hands, but MRS MIRA

RAJKUMAR holds them tight, and

continues dreamily]

People thought my poor sainted Raj was tied to my apron-strings, but he was not, you know. He was quite a playboy in his own little way – men are like boys, they like to raid the larder.

ARUNA

[somewhat impatiently]

Mama! You are mistaken. If you think… Arun and I are quite happy in our own way…

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[cutting her short]

Let me speak, my dear. As you said we have very little time, and I don’t want you tearing through the traffic, it’s dangerous. Apart from all the million things women are expected to do to make a home, we are expected to be always glamorous. But an Indian woman has a great advantage over every other woman! She can wear a saree! A beautiful silk saree is a wisp of magic, and an Indian woman in a saree is magical!

ARUNA

[looks down at her business suit]

Mama, I have told you before, if I go about dressed in a saree no-one will take me seriously at work!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

Yes, I know, but what about all the other times? Look at Japanese women, they dress like you at work, but the moment they get a chance, they are hobbling about in their kimonos! That sends signals, like the call of the wild!

ARUNA

[laughing despite herself]

Oh, Mama! This is ridiculous! Do you seriously expect me to go around seducing my mate, like some vamp in a shoddy Bollywood film? I couldn’t care less…

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[urgently]

Yes, you do, I can see that, that’s why I am talking to you. Make the most of it, Aruna, while you have got it! All these white women have their legs, but they don’t have the Indian silky waist. They can’t flash a soft brown navel, as you can in a saree, reminding men that the Lord will lay them down in greener pastures!

ARUNA

[astonished]

Mama! I didn’t know you could be so… so ribald!

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[firmly]

Well, I have no time to simper. In my day you were not allowed to show your navel, and if you tied your saree above the waist it made our short waists shorter. So, it had to be boobs! When I was partying with the Brits, I wore a high-waisted light cotton dress, like Jane Austen, you know, the Regency style, or was it called the Empire line? Anyway, they followed me about like the lambs they were.

[she seems lost in a reverie]

ARUNA

[hesitating]

You must have been very beautiful, Mama, I can see that. But I am a working woman, not a socialite… I don’t mean any offence… but times have changed, and…

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[getting up]

Nothing changes between men and women. So if you want him, you can have him, any day. You will always hold the whip-hand.

ARUNA

[simply]

Thank you, thank you, kindly. I promise you, I will think carefully about everything you have said. Come, let’s go now. I really hope you didn’t have too bad a time here.

[The women get into their coats.

ARUNA gathers up the suitcase

and the bags and leads the way out]

ARUNA

[at the door, turning

towards MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR]

Arun will meet us at the airport with your companion! That very exciting, eh?

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[as they go out]

Yes, wonderful, thanks to you! You know, we haven’t been good friends, Aruna, we are too different for that. But we could be excellent allies, like Stalin and Churchill!

LIGHTS DIM OUT

SCENE 11

THE SETTING:              Same as Scene 1. Daytime.

AS LIGHTS COME ON:             VIMALA and SAVITRI are standing around in great excitement. SAPNA and MUMTAZ, equally atwitter are bringing out trays of coffee, cakes, sandwiches, and fruit juice.

VIMALA

[proudly showing off

her new cell-phone]

Madam Dinaz just called. They will be here any minute. Our Madam is in good health, she says, and they are bringing a surprise for us!

SAVITRI

She is a saint! How some people speak of her, they will all go blind! My brother is so happy. He tells me he has been put on the ‘priority list!’ Is that not God sent?

[lowering her excited voice]

He tells me there are very few experienced ‘caregivers’

[she pronounces the word carefully]

in Canada. If he gets employment in a hospital – I am praying to God every day, every morning I visit the Ganesh temple in our colony – it has shakti they say – if, if, just if, he gets a small job in Dr. Arun’s hospital, he will be earning one lakh rupees a month! Just imagine! One lakh rupees a month! Shani Baghawan would have left our family forever! That astrologer uncle was so accurate! He looked at my brother’s horoscope, for naturally I wanted to know when he would get married, and he said that Shani was in the seventh house, but would leave this year, and it has all come true! Do you know, I never told you, for I knew you would be very unhappy, but there were days when I had to borrow a handful of rice to cook in the evening.

VIMALA

Remember, what Madam said when she left? Now that your brother will go to Canada, what will you do? You cannot afford to stay in your room anymore on your pay from that shop. What will you do?

SAVITRI

[a little bewildered]

I haven’t thought of that, with all this excitement about my brother. Who wants to think of problems when so many good things are happening? He said… he said he will send me money.

VIMALA

Savitri, he will have so many expenses there. All right, he earns a lakh, but even a cup of coffee there costs a hundred – two hundred rupees – and he must keep up standards, he cannot live in Canada like a beggar, as we can here!

SAVITRI

[fervently]

No, never! I want him to live well, as my father would have wished! Maybe, I can get a room in a working women’s hostel?

VIMALA

[smiling knowingly]

You know what those places are like? You are too strictly brought up – even I would shudder at all the immorality of those places – why, they are no better than brothels for politicians!

SAVITRI

[tearfully]

I will never ruin my father’s name! Perhaps, God will call me…

VIMALA

[soothingly]

There is no need to think of that yet. Look, we have a small room upstairs, where I keep some old boxes, things I don’t need but haven’t had the heart to throw away. I will tell you what I will do. I will clean it right out, and you can stay there. We will charge half the rent for a room of that size, what do you say?

SAVITRI

[hope returning]

You are as good to me as a sister would be.

VIMALA

[quickly]

That’s right – we are like sisters, and we should help each other like sisters. You know, Savitri, I am overworked these days – at night I fall on my bed like a stone and I am asleep in a minute! Every bone in my body aches, running around selling

VIMALA [Con’d]

those sarees, and then doing housework when I come home. I am only a human being not a machine!

SAVITRI

[eagerly]

I will help with the housework! We can take turns, I will let you rest.

VIMALA

[firmly]

You are my new sister, how good you are! When I get home in the evenings, I have to help my son with his homework, after all he is all I have got. Our future, Savitri, depends on his becoming a big officer in government. By the time I have finished his homework, I am dead tired, fit only to go to bed.

SAVITRI

[meekly]

Doesn’t your husband help with your son’s homework?

VIMALA

Of course, when he is home – if he is home! They squeeze him at the office, and if he is to get his promotion, he has to stay there as long as his boss wants. So, it’s up to us really.

SAVITRI

[making up her mind]

Vimala, you can leave the evening meal to me. I will cook, my brother says I cook well, and economically too.

VIMALA

That is good, we can solve that problem that way. In the morning we can share all the housework, while I get my son ready for school.

[drawing confidingly

close to SAVITRI]

Do you know, Savitri, I haven’t seen a film in five years, or gone to a park. If you are home, I can go for an outing with peace of mind, once in a while, that is, with my husband – twice a month or so – can’t I?

[SAVITRI nods dutifully]

And Savitri, I will have to stop giving clothes to the dhobi for ironing. Unless I save on that money I can’t let you have the room for such a low rent, so I hope you won’t mind sharing the ironing. My husband is very particular about his ironed shirts,

VIMALA [Con’d]

and rightly, he must look good at the office, otherwise they will just pass him by for promotion.

SAVITRI

[softly]

Whatever housework you want done, Vimala, I will do it. Soon, I will have no one but you.

VIMALA

[with a big smile]

We are like sisters, Savitri, like sisters! Helping each other! Remember, our old Madam spoke about helping you before she left, remember? Well, I have not forgotten, I will remind her.

[confidentially]

Both of the Madams know a lot of very important people. They will get you a job in a good shop, which pays far better, I will see to that!

SAVITRI

You think they will do that for me?

VIMALA

Of course! I will see that they do! And if you get a far better wage…

[archly]

I hope you remember your new sister!

SAVITRI

[resignedly]

Every month, I will give you my money, and you can tell me how much I can keep.

[VIMALA tries to remonstrate

half-heartedly, when her

cell-phone rings. She listens

intently, making low

 answering noises]

VIMALA

That was Shanti. They are in Madam Dinaz’s car, and already well out of the traffic. Our Madam wanted Sapna to have coffee ready.

SAPNA

[singing out]

Coffee is hot, strong and ready! Everything is just as Madam would wish it. Oh, I forgot! Mumtaz, quick, bring out Vulpi’s dish, put some of the kichdi I cooked for our meal. Quick!

[MUMTAZ runs back to the

kitchen and reappears in

a few seconds with Wolfgang’s

dish piled high with hot kichdi.

SAPNA runs to the sideboard,

collects four biscuits, which

she places carefully in the dish]

SAPNA

[in unnecessary explanation]

Madam would have been annoyed if we had forgotten Vulpi!

[The sound of a car drawing up

is heard. MUMTAZ runs out. Noises

of people getting out of the car.

Then loud excited barking!]

MUMTAZ

[running back, in

dazed excitment]

Vulpi! Vupli is back! All of you, come and see Vulpi!

SAPNA

[running forward to look out]

Yes! Yes! It is Vulpi with Madam! Madam has brought back Vulpi!

[Dinaz is heard laughing

loudly off stage. MRS MIRA

RAJKUMAR enters slowly,

leaning on her stick]

MRS MIRA RAJKUMAR

[cackling gleefully]

I told everyone, I would bring back Wolfgang from Hades! Ovid was absolutely right! You bring back life by creating discordant harmony between opposites!

[Loud, excited barking

heard off stage]

LIGHTS DIM AND OUT

THE END