Keats was a Tuber

1996
Keats Was a Tuber was written with the intention of
vanquishing that old demon — of being Indian and
choosing to write in English. Though this issue is no
longer as vexatious as it once was, all writers in
English have had to deal with it at some time or the
other and in their own way. Keats Was a Tuber is
set in the staffroom of the English department of a
small town college where it is possible even now, to
find staunch custodians of the English language
and literature, and where romance is the exclusive
property of the poets in the syllabus.
The methodology of teaching English is integral to
our knowledge and appreciation of the language,
and this is a key element in the narrative. However,
the play, and the role of the English language, goes
far beyond that. English is a legacy gifted us by
Lord Macaulay, when in his famous Minute on
Indian Education, 2 February 1835, he declared,
‘We must at present do our best to form a class
who may be interpreters between us and the
millions whom we govern — a class of persons
Indian in blood and colour, but English in tastes, in
opinions, in morals and in intellect. To that class we
may leave it to refine the vernacular dialects of the
country, to enrich those dialects with terms of
science borrowed from the Western nomenclature,
and to render them by degrees fit vehicles for
conveying knowledge to the great mass of the

235
population.’ For independent India, is that legacy a
Trojan horse?
English brought with it the promise of democratic
ideals, the ordered calm of legal phraseology, and
the vocabulary of modern administration, to a land
that was fragmented by a thousand identities. But
did English also erode the colour and richness of
our own many tongues? Today, when English
suffuses the world of technology and international
commerce, the voiceless Ramanan
epitomises the aspirations of many Indians who
believe that the knowledge of English would help
them transform their lives. And yet, is it possible to
convey our Indian sensibility through the imperial
language of the British?
In Keats was a Tuber, I allowed myself to explore
my own relationship with the English language and
to express unabashedly my deep love for it.
First performed 18 January 1997
Cast
Woman Speaker Raj Dutt
Mr Iyer Shiv Kumar
Sarala Munira Sen
Mrs Nathan Ranita Hirji
Ramanan K. Raza Hussain
Dr Dennis Chippy Gangjee
Raghu Preetam Koilpillai

236
Damini Rakhi Chaudhuri

Crew
Sets design Ashish Sen, Dominic Taylor
Set execution Rang Manch
Original music score Preetam Koilpillai
Herbert Paul
Musicians: Guitar Herbert Paul
Flute Hema Choksi
Keyboard Lawrence
Preetam Koilpillai
Vocal Shalini Subramaniam
PercussionVivek Menzel
Costumes Vidya Appaiah
Marianne Jacobie
Production Nirupa
management
Reshma D’Silva
Kartik S. Kumar
Gagandeep Chhabra
Abhijit Sengupta
Anuradha Mundkur
Mikhail Sen

237
 Latha Ramaswamy
Nasreen Taher
Direction Ashish Sen

Act 1
Stage in total darkness except for a single spot
downstage right. A WOMAN (about thirty-five) is
seen addressing an unseen audience.

WOMAN: It is my privilege to speak to you as a

teacher of English from India and to
share with you my thoughts and
experiences. Thank you for inviting me
to this forum; I am honoured.
Pause.

English is not my language. It is not the language

that my grandparents and parents speak at home.
In fact, I do not think I knew anything of English
before I went to school. But my parents, born when
India was still a British colony, attributed the glory of
the British to the power of their language and sent
me when I was five to a school run by Franciscan
nuns. My fifth birthday calculated according to the
ascension of my birthstar and celebrated at our
family temple, was, or so I believed for a long time,
my last birthday as an Indian.
Pause.

238
English is now the language of my thoughts, it is
the language of my reason, the language I use for
loving. My perceptions are finer, my judgements
more subtle, the range and depth of my emotions
seem to be much greater in this language than in
any other. What is it then that I and all those like me
have inherited? A language, merely? A mode of
communication that is functional in many, perhaps
in most, parts of the world? Or have we inherited an
entire civilisation, an alien sensibility that has
seduced us from the culture to which we were
born? Have we been enchanted so as to wander
forever homeless?
Spot off.

Scene 1. The rest of the stage lights up. We see

the shoddy staff room of a provincial college. A
large, ugly round table with curved legs dominates
stage centre. The table is bare. The chairs are
straight backed, uncomfortable, of irregular sizes,
and placed randomly. There is a smaller
rectangular table next to one of the chairs, also
bare. Upstage left are two high steel shelf racks
filled untidily with books, notebooks, ledgers, loose
sheets of paper, a large box of chalk and a bottle of
ink. There is a ray of light falling diagonally across
the room, brilliantly lighting up whatever lies in its
path and leaving other areas in semi-darkness. The
door to the staffroom is upstage left of centre. It is
an old-fashioned half door with two flaps that swing
wildly and which cover only the middle of the door
space. Consequently, the head and legs of anyone

239
on the other side can be seen; the legs alone if it is
someone short.
MR IYER enters. He is tall, spare but vital, in his
late forties, dressed formally in a light suit and tie,
carrying a leather case which he places on the
round table, then noticing something on the floor,
picks it up. It is a rectangular piece of polished
wood, with the words ‘Eng. Dept’ painted on it in
white. It has obviously fallen down or been knocked
down from outside the door. MR IYER runs his right
palm across it and places it carefully on one of the
shelves.
A bell is heard clanging.
Enter MISS SARALA in an almighty hurry. She is
about twenty-seven, wears a shimmery sari, a
fussy, embroidered blouse with long sleeves, a
good deal of gold jewellery. She has a large red dot
on her forehead, flowers in her hair and carries a
cloth bag stuffed with books. She goes up to one of
the shelves and hunts for something.

IYER: Is it your attendance register that you

are looking for, Sarala?
SARALA: Oh! Yes. Yes sir. I was finding it but …
IYER: (Gently.) You mean you were looking
for it but couldn’t find it … I believe all
the attendance registers have been
taken to the office for calculating the
students’ attendance records. Were
you not aware of this?

240
SARALA: Yes. Oh yes, yes. Mrs Nathan told me.
But I just forgot. So many things that I
have to remember. And doing detailed
plus non-detailed this year, I …
IYER: Do you find your work load too heavy,
Sarala? Would you like me to speak to
Mrs Nathan about it?
SARALA: Sir? No, sir. I … so grateful … I …. If I
ask you sometimes, some passages
that you can explain … with your
experience and knowledge then …
IYER: (Withdraws slightly. Opens his case
and takes out a notebook.) Certainly.
But if you are meeting the Commerce
section for the first hour, you should be
on your way. You are already five
minutes behind.
SARALA: Oh yes! Yes sir! (Looks into her bag,
pulls out a couple of dog-eared books,
goes up to the door, hesitates, then
returns to get some chalk.) Sir! That
book you gave me, Elizabeth Barrett
Browning, her poetry, it is so beautiful,
sir. So much … so much emotion … so
much … (Pause.) … emotion …
Silence.

SARALA: I should go, sir. The students must be

… (Goes towards door and almost

241
 collides with MRS NATHAN who is
entering.) Oh! I am so sorry. Really
sorry. I was going to class …
NATHAN: Late. Always late, Sarala. Even after
three years of being a lecturer.
SARALA: It was just that I did not get a bus and
…
NATHAN: Then you should start early. What kind
of example are you setting the
students?
SARALA: I am sorry. I … (Exits quickly.)
Silence. IYER is writing meticulously into the
notebook. NATHAN sits at the smaller table and
places her handbag and books on it. She is a
small made woman, about forty-five. Her white sari
is very crisp, her white blouse and bare forehead
proclaim her widowed state. She wears no jewellery
except for a thin gold chain around her neck and
two bangles on her left arm. She notices the name
board on the shelf.

NATHAN: I find the board has fallen off yet again.

IYER: (Not looking up.) Yes.
NATHAN: Have you told Ramanan?
IYER: No. Not yet.
NATHAN: goes to the door and looks out.

242
NATHAN: Ramanan! Ramanan! Not here as
usual. (Signals to someone outside.)
You. Yes you. B.Com. first year, aren’t
you? Yes. You know our peon
Ramanan? Yes. Ask him to come here
immediately. To the English
department. Hurry up. (Returns to
table.) He should have at least cleaned
the room. Look at the dust here …
Tcha! … (A long pause.) We are
getting somebody in Mrs Kichu’s place.
(She has got his attention at last.)
IYER: For a mere three months?
NATHAN: It maybe a mere three months but
there is enough work. You cannot
expect me to handle all her classes in
addition to my own.
IYER: That is not what I was suggesting.
NATHAN: And you think Sarala can take both the
first and the third years, that too the
BAs? As it is, she keeps grumbling
about the timetable she has. As for Dr
Dennis …
IYER: When is this lady coming?
NATHAN: Who? The leave vacancy? … (Laughs
in a rather metallic way.) What makes
you think it is a woman?

243
 (IYER does not respond.) I suppose
you think that only a silly woman would
…
Enter RAMANAN, a bustling but generally
ineffectual middle-aged man. He cannot speak but
can hear perfectly well. He wears a khaki uniform,
large, baggy shorts and an ill-fitting jacket and has
a large, untidy smear of holy ash across his
forehead. He goes up to IYER, greets him and then
stands to attention facing MRS NATHAN.

NATHAN: So there you are, Ramanan. Where

were you, if I may ask? (RAMANAN
gestures.) In the office, is it? They are
still cutting your salary? Alright. Alright.
Since that daily ritual is over, you can
do some work now …. The board has
been taken off again.
RAMANAN darts to the shelf, picks up the board,
goes out and darts back again. He thumps the
board and gestures violently.

IYER: I agree. Somebody seems to have

knocked it down deliberately. One of
the nails is bent.
NATHAN: I have got sick and tired of this
nonsense. First they spray ink on it,
then they draw obscene pictures, now
… (Stands up.) Ramanan. Give me

244
 that board. I will take it to the office and
fling it in their faces. We don’t need it.
RAMANAN does not move.

NATHAN: Give it, I say.

RAMANAN looks at IYER.

IYER: Perhaps we should not admit defeat that

easily.
Silence. MRS NATHAN does not speak, then after
a moment, she sits down again. RAMANAN smiles,
evidently with relief, touches his forehead to IYER
and exits.

Silence. Then …

IYER: This addition to the staff. When does

he join?
NATHAN: Tomorrow.
IYER: Tomorrow?
NATHAN: Yes.
IYER: The arrangements seem to have been
made more quickly than I would have
thought possible.
NATHAN: Yes.

245
IYER: I presume you did not think it fit to
inform your colleagues of your
decision.
NATHAN: What do you expect me to do? Call a
departmental meeting every time I
sneeze? Why should I consult my
colleagues for every small thing? …
IYER: That is the usual procedure for a new
appointment.
NATHAN: Well, in this case, I felt I could take a
decision on my own. I talked to the
university before Mrs Kichu went on
leave, they approved of the candidate,
they …
IYER: You are acquainted with the candidate,
I gather.
NATHAN: Yes. I know him. He is a sort of distant
nephew. (Defiantly.) In fact, he is my
only sister’s only son.
IYER: I see.
NATHAN: What do you see? Tell me, what do
you see? You don’t have a family, you
don’t have any obligations, family
obligations, you have no idea what it
means to have to …
Pause.

246
NATHAN: He will be very good for the
department, let me tell you. In fact, we
should feel privileged that he is coming
here at all. He is an MA first class first.
IYER: Is there any particular reason that he
should want to work in a college such
as ours? In a small, outof-the-way town
and for a mere three months?
NATHAN: He has applied to a Canadian
university for his PhD and he is waiting
for their reply. In between, he though
he could get some work experience.
IYER: I see. He seems to be an exceptionally
…
NATHAN: Oh yes. He is very exceptional. Right
from the time he was a child. I am not
saying this because he is my nephew
but he is very, very intelligent. My
brother-in-law wanted him to go for the
IAS but you know this younger
generation has its own ideas. The boy
decided that he wants to stay in the
teaching business.
Pause.

IYER: You misunderstand. I was about to say that

your nephew is exceptionally fortunate.
Pause.

247
NATHAN: Then let me tell you something, Mr
Iyer. He is capable of teaching even
us, all of us in the department. He has
read the latest English literature books.
He will be like a new wind that sweeps
us clean.
IYER: I believe it is usually a new broom that
performs that function.
NATHAN: A broom, a wind, a ventilator. What
does it matter? At least we will have a
new face to see and a …
Enter DR DENNIS. He is dressed in rusty black
trousers, a black coat and could be mistaken for a
small-time lawyer. He is, even at this time of the
morning, very slightly inebriated.

DENNIS: What is this about a new face? Let me

not to the marriage of new faces admit
impediments …
NATHAN: My nephew is joining the staff.
DENNIS: Ah! Prepare to meet thy doom.
Beware, beware his flashing eyes, his
flowing hair … How long do you think
he will survive in our little Hades?
NATHAN: He will be here for three months and I
hope, Dr Dennis, that you will not make
him regret coming to us.

248
DENNIS: Mrs Nathan, you wound me. You do
me grievous injury. Does she not, Iyer?
… Iyer? … Iyer is into higher things.
Let us sit on the ground, Nathan, and
talk instead of the death of the English
Department … the …
NATHAN: Dr Dennis, the floor is very dirty.
Please get up and get ready for your
class.
DENNIS: Ah yes. Class. Fifty-five empty vessels
to be filled with immortal longings. Must
I go or shall I stay … Which is it to be
oh Queen who walks in such authority,
which is it to …
RAMANAN rushes in with a broom, very excited.
He gestures violently as usual.

DENNIS: Our Feste has festered further. I

cannot comprehend his communication
though it is riveting.
NATHAN: What are you saying, Ramanan? I
can’t make out anything at all. Really,
this is too much.
IYER: It seems a stranger has arrived with a
suitcase and is, at the moment, in the
Principal’s chambers, inquiring for you,
Mrs Nathan.
NATHAN: For me? Who could it be? Don’t tell me
it is …

249
IYER: Your nephew?
NATHAN: But he was supposed to come only
tomorrow. Why is here today itself?
This is very strange. Ramanan, are you
sure he was asking for me? Or did you
just hear half of what was going on and
…
IYER: Mrs Nathan, please compose yourself.
May I suggest that you step across and
welcome your nephew on our behalf.
NATHAN: But he told me he was taking the Mail
… he must have … excuse me … I
must go …
Enter RAGHU KRISHNAN. He is about twenty-five,
but looks younger and with the kind of freshness
that some men retain all their lives. The
uncharitable would call him immature, childish, but
a kinder judgement would be that he seems to carry
about him the conviction and the excitement that he
has been born to change the world. He does not
look upon others with scorn; nevertheless, he thinks
himself superior. He is dressed in ethnic clothes,
kurta pyjama, slippers and has evidently had a
tiring journey.

RAGHU: Ah! English voices, at last. Thought I

would never get here.
NATHAN: Raghu! I thought you were arriving
tomorrow.

250
RAGHU: But I’m here today! … Surprise! … Isn’t
that just like me? So this is your
department. And you must be Mr Iyer
… Dr Dennis, I presume (He gets it
right.) and this is Ramanan … I am
Krishnan. (The men shake hands,
including RAMANAN.)
NATHAN: Ramanan, why are you standing there
like a fool? Put the suitcase in a corner,
turn the fan on faster. Raghu, you want
some water or something … you must
be so hungry. I have the next hour
otherwise … I wanted to put in a day’s
casual leave tomorrow …
IYER: Mrs Nathan, I was about to suggest
that Ramanan escort Mr Krishnan to
your rooms where he could wash and
change.
NATHAN: I was going to say exactly that. Raghu,
here are my keys. My quarters are
nearby, in the same compound
actually. There is some food in the
kitchen and …
RAGHU: Dr Dennis, you haven’t said a word to
me. Are you being superior or is it
something else?
DENNIS: Superior! Why should I be superior? It
is the east and you are the sun.

251
RAGHU: In other words, I look too young. Mr
Iyer, is that what you think too?
NATHAN: Don’t be silly, Raghu. Nobody thinks
anything. Come now, go with
Ramanan. He will take you to …
A gong is heard.

NATHAN: Oh my god! I have to go. Raghu, will

you be alright? Otherwise I will give the
class some written work and …
RAGHU: Well, Mr Iyer?
IYER: (Smiling.) We are barely acquainted,
Mr Krishnan.
RAGHU: (Laughing.) Acquainted! Haven’t heard
the word for a century. Acquainted. A
quaint word! A Trollope word. Do you
read a lot of Trollope, Mr Iyer?
NATHAN: Raghu, I have to go and Ramanan is
waiting. Please …
IYER: Trollope is a writer with style and
wisdom.
RAGHU: But nobody in his right senses reads
him any more, Mr Iyer. He has not
been in a university syllabus for god
knows how long. Do you read Trollope
too, Dr D?
NATHAN: Raghu! I …

252
Enter SARALA, breathlessly.

SARALA: Mrs Nathan! Your class is waiting. One

of them asked me if … Oh!
RAGHU: Ms Sarala! Hello! I am your obedient
servant … Oh no! I’ve caught the
Trollope virus … Sarala, I am Raghu,
your new colleague.
SARALA: But nobody told me that …
RAGHU: You have a new colleague? Now you
do. Happy?
MRS NATHAN has been talking to RAMANAN and
now hands him her keys and what seems to be
some money as well.

NATHAN: Raghu, I’m leaving the keys with

Ramanan. He will take you when you
are ready. I have to go. Dr Dennis, you
have a class also, don’t you? And
Sarala, didn’t you want to go the
library? You wanted to look up
something on …
SARALA: But that was last week, Mrs Nathan. I
told you I could not find anything.
NATHAN: Our library is so useless. Dr Dennis,
shall we go?
DR DENNIS gets up and goes to the door. MRS
NATHAN is reluctant to leave.

253
NATHAN: Raghu, I wish you would …
There is no response from RAGHU. MRS NATHAN
and DR DENNIS exit.

RAGHU: I find that amazing, really amazing.

Does he do this everyday?
IYER does not respond.

SARALA: What, Mr Raghu?

RAGHU: Raghu.
SARALA: Huh?
RAGHU: Just call me Raghu. I was wondering
about Dr D … Dr Dennis. Does he
always go to class without books?
SARALA: Oh Dr Dennis! He is very senior. He
has been a lecturer for twenty,
twenty-one years.
RAGHU: So he knows all his stuff is it?
SARALA: The syllabus is the same, you know. It
has not changed for so many years. Dr
Dennis … he has all the notes from
those days itself…. He is a very good
lecturer.
RAGHU: And you, Sarala?
SARALA: What?
RAGHU: Are you a good lecturer too?

254
SARALA: I don’t know … I can’t make out … I …
Enter RAMANAN, gesticulating.

SARALA: What, Ramanan? You want to know …

what … ?
IYER: (Abruptly.) Ramanan wants to know
whether Mr Krishnan is ready to be
escorted to his aunt’s rooms.
SARALA: Aunt?
RAGHU: Mrs Nathan. Sorry Mr Iyer, I realise I
offend you by not being clean and
wholesome. I’m coming Ramanan. Just
one minute okay?
RAMANAN grins and exits. RAGHU stands up to
go.

SARALA: (Stands up too, frightened.) You are

Mrs Nathan’s nephew?
RAGHU: Didn’t you realise that? She was
behaving so avuncular, or auntuncular,
if you like.
SARALA: Her only nephew?
RAGHU: As far as I know, yes. Why?
SARALA: But you … she told me you …
RAGHU: (No longer flippant.) Told you what?
What has my aunt been saying?

255
SARALA: Nothing. Nothing. Just …
RAGHU: (Angry.) What has that woman been
babbling?
IYER stands up.

IYER: Mr Krishnan!
SARALA: I told you … it’s nothing … I …
There is a tap at the door and DAMINI, a young girl,
enters. She carries a pile of books and is obviously
a student but entirely self-possessed. She walks
straight up to MR IYER without glancing around
her. RAGHU switches his attention completely from
SARALA to DAMINI.

DAMINI: I’m sorry I’m late, sir. I had to return

some books to the library. Where shall I
sit?
IYER: Who asked you to come in here?
DAMINI: You asked me to, sir. You said this was
the quietest place in the college for any
kind of intellectual discussion.
IYER: Yes. Of course. But that was last week,
if I remember right.
DAMINI: Yes sir.
IYER: Pick up your books.
DAMINI: Sir?

256
IYER: Let us go and look for an empty
classroom. Aren’t some of those smaller
rooms free at this time?
DAMINI: We had to cancel last week’s
discussion, sir, because we could not
find any place.
IYER: Nevertheless, we shall search again.
Come on.
IYER opens the door for DAMINI and follows her
out.

RAGHU: (Sits down again.) Who was that?

SARALA: (Standing well away from him.) What?
RAGHU: That … that girl. Who is she?
SARALA: Damini? She is in third year BA.
RAGHU: Is she the only student in third year
BA?
SARALA: Of course not. I think there are
sixty-two or sixty-three students.
RAGHU whistles in amazement.

SARALA: There are seventy students in my class,

in first year.
RAGHU: But this girl … Is she being given some
special coaching or something?

257
SARALA: Damini? No, not special coaching like
that. She is doing Elective English third
year.
RAGHU: Oh, I see. That’s interesting.
SARALA: Yes.
RAGHU: (Suddenly switching his attention back.)
Hey! You are upset with me. I shouted
at you. I’m sorry. I really am.
Silence.

RAGHU: (Going up, taking her by the hand.)

Look Sarala … may I call you Sarala,
please?
SARALA: (Disengages her hand.) You called me
Sarala from the very first minute you
saw me.
RAGHU: Ah! And do you know why? Do you
realise why I called you by your name
almost at once? No? Because …
because Sarala …
Enter MRS NATHAN.

NATHAN: Raghu! You are still here? … What are

you doing?
RAGHU: I was merely talking to Sarala. What
have you said to frighten the poor girl?
Your usual hair-raising gossip?

258
NATHAN: Sarala!
RAGHU: No. No. Sarala has said nothing. She
looks at me with total terror, that’s all.
NATHAN: Raghu! I warned you. If you want to
work here, you have to observe certain
rules and regulations. Mr Iyer …
RAGHU: That same tune! I heard it throughout
the summer. Mr Iyer this … Mr Iyer that
…
SARALA: Please don’t say anything against Mr
Iyer.
RAGHU: Oh, so you are in the club too!
NATHAN: Raghu! I have got you this appointment
after a lot of effort. Just for you to
escape from …
RAGHU: I did not want to escape! Or even need
to! It is all something that you and your
sister have created.
NATHAN: Your mother asked me … begged me
… to get you this post. I went out of my
way for you…. But this not the place to
discuss such things.
RAGHU: So now I have to behave myself.
Silence.

RAGHU:

259
 Miss Sarala, what did my aunt say
about me?
SARALA: She …
RAGHU: Yes?
SARALA: (Suddenly.) Why don’t you ask her
herself? I have to go to the library.
SARALA picks up some books randomly and exits.

RAGHU: She is really scared of me, isn’t she?

NATHAN: She is an unmarried girl, Raghu. She
has lived in this small town all her life.
She has not seen or even heard of
anyone like you.
RAGHU: And now because of whatever you
have told her, she won’t even look at
me. What does she think I’ll do? Throw
her down and rape her?
Enter IYER. He stands at the door.

IYER: Mrs Nathan! I thought you had a class.

NATHAN: Oh! Yes. Yes, I do have a class. I gave
them some work and came. I wanted to
see if Raghu was …
IYER: Ramanan has been waiting for some
while. And I would be grateful if I could
have the staffroom …

260
NATHAN: Damini! Oh, I am so sorry, Mr Iyer. You
told me last week. Raghu! You have to
go. Come on.
RAGHU shrugs his shoulders and saunters out
while IYER holds the door open. MRS NATHAN
follows RAGHU out.

IYER: Damini! Please come in here. Damini!

DAMINI enters, looking a little confused, a little
self-conscious. She sits at the large table. After a
moment, IYER sits too.

IYER: Pride and Prejudice, isn’t it?

DAMINI: Sir? Yes. Yes, sir. I wanted to discuss
that question that keeps coming …
something about … oh here it is, sir.
Justify the title of the book, Pride and
Prejudice.
IYER: Yes, that is a favourite question. And
have you thought about it at all?
DAMINI: Well sir … I … I thought it was a very
obvious title, sir.
IYER: I see. And what makes you feel it is an
obvious title?
DAMINI: Well, sir … Both Mr Darcy and Elizabeth
Bennet are prejudiced about each other
in the beginning. And Mr Darcy,
especially, is a very proud man, sir.

261
IYER: Is he really? A proud man?
DAMINI: Sir, they all say that he is proud. Mrs
Bennet and … Anyway sir, he also acts
very proudly.
IYER: In what way?
DAMINI: Well sir, he doesn’t talk, he refuses to
dance with Elizabeth Bennet and …
IYER: Do you like him?
DAMINI: Sir, how can I like him? He thinks so
highly of himself. He is so proud. I
wanted to …
IYER: So you are prejudiced too?
DAMINI: Sir?
IYER: When you began reading the book, did
you know anything about its contents?
DAMINI: No, sir. You told me not to look at any
critical notes or comments before I read
the book. You say that every year, sir.
Read the text, Damini. Read the text
first.
IYER: (Laughs.) And you dare not disobey!
DAMINI: No, sir.
IYER: Good! So you brought a fresh,
unprejudiced mind to the book. And
what happened then?

262
DAMINI: I…
IYER: You took a strong dislike to Mr Darcy.
DAMINI: Yes, sir. And I also disliked Mr Bingley.
IYER: That’s interesting! I would have thought
Mr Bingley was the answer to every
young girl’s dream.
DAMINI: I don’t think so, sir. He is so … so weak
and he changes his mind and he allows
other people to influence him. He is just
like my uncle.
IYER: I see.
DAMINI: Yes sir. You should see my uncle, sir.
He believes every word my aunty says.
She makes up such lies about us, sir,
and he believes her.
IYER: And what has happened as a result?
DAMINI: So now he never comes to see us, sir.
Earlier, before he got married, he used
to come to our house two or three times
a week but now … You remember in the
book, sir, Mr Bingley goes away without
any proper explanations and poor Jane,
how she cries!
IYER: (Wryly.) I think I remember.
DAMINI: Well sir, it just shows that if you have a
prejudice, you can prejudice other
people also.

263
IYER: Carry on.
DAMINI: So Mr Bingley is prejudiced. And his
sisters are prejudiced right from the
beginning. And so is Mrs Bennet, and
that horrible Mr Collins and Wickham
of course …. they all seem to have been
prejudiced, sir. In one way or another.
IYER: Can you think of anyone you know who
is without prejudice?
DAMINI: In my own life? (Thinks.) No Sir, actually
I can’t. I am prejudiced too.
IYER: About Mr Darcy?
DAMINI: And about my uncle. And about a lot of
other people also, sir. Take Sarala
madam, sir … I think she …
IYER: Let us leave my colleagues out of this,
please.
DAMINI: Sorry sir. It is just that sometimes
teachers make a lot of difference, sir.
They can prejudice you so much. Last
year we had a sonnet of Wordsworth
‘Upon Westminster Bridge’ …
IYER: Earth has not anything to show more
fair: Dull would he be of soul who could
pass by A sight so touching in its
majesty:
Silence.

264
DAMINI: It sounds so beautiful when you say it
like that, sir. But when madam … when
we did it in Core English class last year,
I hated the poem, sir. I wanted to ask
why we should study it.
RAGHU has returned and can be seen by the
audience standing behind the door. He is unnoticed
by those on stage.

DAMINI: Why should I study something written by

some Englishman who is talking about
some bridge in London that I have never
seen? If I write a poem ‘Upon Howrah
Bridge’, will it be included in the English
syllabus?
IYER: (Gently.) You have opted for a study of
English literature, so you have to read
the work that English minds have
produced.
DAMINI: I know. I used to be very silly those days
…. But I know something else too, sir. I
… I have realised that literature goes
beyond the question of language. It has
to do more with … with experience, I
think. With what a poet or somebody
with that kind of mind sees or feels.
Wordsworth saw something utterly
beautiful and he wrote about it in the
only language he knew.
IYER is visibly moved.

265
DAMINI: You taught me that, sir. (Pause.) Thank
you.
Pause.

IYER: I think we should return to Austen. We

were talking about prejudice, that it is
much more widespread in the book than
you had, at first, thought. And prejudice
can creep into us even before we realise
it. It can lead to war.
DAMINI: Yes sir. Like … like Hitler and the
German people.
IYER: Prejudice can be annihilating. What
about pride? Is it Darcy alone who is
proud or do you think there are others
too?
DAMINI: Well, Lady Catherine is terribly proud but
she is related to Mr Darcy so it may be
in the family … But now when I think of it
sir, Mr Bennet is also very proud. At
least, he feels that he is superior …
more intelligent than anybody else. Do
… you agree with that sir? … Sir?
IYER: Yes? Yes. I do agree. I am sorry I
appeared a little distracted … Now, what
makes Darcy appear proud?
DAMINI: That’s easy, sir. It’s his wealth. Haven’t
you seen all these rich people when they
come out of their houses, sir? I have a

266
 friend whose father has lots and lots of
money. Do you know how she behaves,
sir? She walks as if she has never put
her feet on the ground. Like this …
(Stands up, turns around and notices
RAGHU.) Oh! (Sits down abruptly.)
IYER: What … (Stands.) Mr Krishnan!
RAGHU enters.

RAGHU: Sorry! I’m sorry. I did not want to

interrupt. I wanted merely to find out my
class schedule … the … the timetable. I
thought my … that Mrs Nathan would be
here.
IYER: You are interrupting a class in progress,
Mr Krishnan. That cannot be easily
forgiven.
RAGHU: I did say I’m sorry, didn’t I? Anyway it
seemed more like a … like an animated
conversation than a class in progress.
IYER: Damini.
DAMINI: Sir?
IYER: I have written down, quite at random, a
few points you could consider when you
re-read the text. In addition, I have
made out a list of books that you should
read. If you do not find them in the

267
 college library, you could borrow them
from me.
DAMINI: Thank you, sir.
RAGHU: I have brought a whole lot of books
down with me. In fact, I have some of
the latest critical work on …
IYER: I shall expect a term paper from you in
about a fortnight. If you need to discuss
anything more, please let me know.
DAMINI: But we had not finished …
IYER: Yes, we have. We have finished, for the
moment.
DAMINI: Yes, sir.
DAMINI exits.

Silence … then …

RAGHU: I did not like the tone of voice you used

with me Mr Iyer, especially in front of a
student. I am a member of this
department, after all. A colleague.
IYER: You are no colleague of mine till you
have proved yourself.
RAGHU: Is that a threat?
IYER: If you choose to think so.
Pause.

268
RAGHU: Mr Iyer, I have barely been here an
hour. I have, so far, met only the
Principal and the members of this
department. You and I have not
exchanged more than a dozen words
with each other. And yet, you treat me
with a disdain that comes with years of
familiarity. How do you explain that?
Silence.

RAGHU: You know the answer, don’t you? You

know it but you are afraid to say it. You
say it, it gets a name. And then where is
the forgiveness?
Pause.

RAGHU: When my aunt arrives, Mr Iyer, will you

tell her that I have gone to cleanse
myself? Thank you.
Blackout.

End of Scene 1.

Scene 2. Two weeks later.

The staff room, a tad tidier. RAGHU and

RAMANAN are sitting at the centre table.
RAMANAN is writing laboriously on a slate.

269
RAGHU: That’s right. C .. O .. F … another F.. E..
another E. C.O.F.F.E.E coffee. Gone for
coffee. Good! What else do you want to
learn?
RAMANAN gestures.

RAGHU: Food? Gone for food? No? Gone for …

for lunch? No? What? Starts with a T?
… With a T? Gone for … gone for …
what could it be? T … tiffin? TIFFIN? Of
course, tiffin. How could I forget? Come
on write … T .. I ..
Enter MRS NATHAN. She carries a large pile of
notebooks, on top of which totters an attendance
ledger and a stout textbook.

NATHAN: Ramanan! I have been calling you and

calling you and this is where you are.
Learning English instead of attending
to your duty. (Sets the books down on
her table with a crash.) Go! There are
some more books in the second year
class. Bring them …. Learning English
…
RAMANAN hugs his slate to his chest and exits.

NATHAN: Seventy grammar books to correct and

a staff meeting in the afternoon. I am
going mad.

270
RAGHU: I can help you with the corrections.
NATHAN: You! What grammar have you learnt?
You don’t know the difference between
a gerund and a present participle.
RAGHU: Is there a difference?
NATHAN: Raghu, why don’t you get ready for
your class? You
have to take third year non-detailed
next hour, am I right?
RAGHU: Unfortunately.
NATHAN: And I beg of you, don’t give them grand
lectures on communism and Karl Marx
and what not.
RAGHU: Why shouldn’t I do that? I am
expanding their minds, helping them
grow, that’s what teaching is about.
Real teaching. Not this cramming and
vomiting out that you and your
colleagues expect them to do.
Memorise! By heart! Mug up! (Chants.)
Keats was a tuber … Keats was a
tuber … Keats was a tuber … culosis
patient … culosis patient … Is that all
you can tell them about Keats? That he
had tuberculosis?
RAMANAN staggers in with another pile of
notebooks, dumps them on MRS NATHAN’s table
and wipes his head exaggeratedly.

271
NATHAN: Ramanan! Is this the way? Put the
books on that shelf. One by one. Don’t
mix them up.
RAGHU: Have you ever bothered to notice what
kind of prose has been selected for this
non-detailed stuff? Charles Lamb’s
essay, ‘A Dissertation Upon Roast Pig’
… That’s what I have to teach today. I
have to take apart Lamb’s delicate
whimsy to boys and girls who are first
generation literate. And worse, much
worse, I have to talk about the
mouth-watering and irresistible taste of
crackling of roast pork to a group of
students, a great many of whom don’t
eat meat and over half of whom are
Muslim. (Lights dim.) ‘A Dissertation
Upon Roast Pig’?
Blackout.

Spot on WOMAN downstage right.

WOMAN: The history of my land, the geographical

and political entity that is now India, has been
slashed with invasions. Through
those treacherous mountain passes in the
north-west of my country, have come hordes of
fierce, sword-flashing Turks, Mongols and Afghans
who have thundered down to the rich plains of
middle and western India, looted and plundered
and vanished. But some who came remained to

272
rule. Qutubuddin Aibak, Ghiyasuddin Tughluk,
Bahlul Lodi and Babar … the first of the great
Mughals. And all over India, I can see their
fingerprints still, their towers, their cities, their great
mosques, their tombs … the Qutub Minar, Fatehpur
Sikri, the Taj Mahal. Their voices echo in the
languages I hear, I taste their seasoning in the food
I eat. I claim them as my own.
Why is it then that the English legacy divides my
being so unbearably? How can I transport myself
among the darling buds of May when the sun
scorches brown my country and my people? No
woman in India would like to be compared to a
summer’s day.
Spot off.

Lights on staffroom.

RAGHU: Don’t you protest about this kind of

boorishness? Who are these textbook
editors? Who recommends these
books?
NATHAN: It is all useless, Raghu. Please believe
me. Mr Iyer has been writing to the
university people for the past five or six
years. They don’t even acknowledge.
RAGHU: And in the meanwhile, we continue to
thrust this down our students’ throats?
NATHAN: What to do? … We have to finish the
syllabus, isn’t it? Now please let me

273
 finish my correcting work otherwise I
do not know what will happen.
RAGHU: How can you just there and accept it?
You are now the head of the
department. You should write, not Mr
Iyer.
NATHAN: My god! Look at this girl’s spellings. At
this rate I myself will forget what I know
of English.
RAGHU: Listen! Shall I draft the letter for you?
You’ll merely have to sign it.
NATHAN: Raghu, please do not go on and on
disturbing me.
RAGHU: You just have to sign the letter. It’s a
moment’s work. Even less. I’ll start off
on the letter right away.
NATHAN: (Controlling herself with effort.) Raghu,
listen to me. All this is a department
matter. I cannot send off a letter just
like that. I have to consult my
colleagues.
RAGHU: Then consult them. Consult them
today. Now.
NATHAN: (Exasperated.) You think it is so easy,
isn’t it? You come here with your big
words and your big ideas and you want
us all to run around you. Who do you
think you are? In one week, you have

274
 turned everything upside down. The
students are asking stupid questions all
the time, they do not pay proper
attention, every evening you go to Dr
Dennis’ house and make him drink and
drink and what you are doing to Sarala
… I have no idea.
RAGHU: I have merely told her my version of
the story.
NATHAN: And she has believed you?
RAGHU: It is not difficult to believe the truth.
Silence.

RAGHU: I can see you are not convinced that I

am innocent. Neither is your sister.
NATHAN: We want to believe you. My god, how
much we want to believe you. But how
can we? That poor girl was sure you
were serious about her. What about
that big packet of letters that she
showed your mother? Letters you had
written to her.
RAGHU: Letters I had written long ago.
NATHAN: Love letters.
RAGHU: How do you define love letters? I don’t
remember having used more than one

275
 ‘sweetheart’ and a couple of ‘darlings’.
Does that constitute a love letter?
NATHAN: You told her about your plans, your
dreams, your hopes. Why should you
talk about all that if you did not want to
marry her?
Silence.

RAGHU: I spoke to a friend, a comrade. Yes,

there was a bit of love talk but for god’s
sake, I thought she knew the ground
rules. It was only a little flirtation.
NATHAN: You think life is just a game, don’t you?
You hit so many balls, you make so
many points, finished. Then you can
come home and talk and talk about
how you won.
RAGHU: Does everything about life have to be
dismal and moralistic? Can’t we have
some fun while we are it?
NATHAN: Fun! That is all you think of. Fun! This
is what comes of your so-called
English education. Your head is filled
with nonsense ideas about girls
running after boys and boys running
after other girls. In our country, girls do
not run after boys. We are not brought
up that way, let me tell you.

276
RAGHU: If you think I did wrong, then why do
you protect me? Why did you insist that
I come here?
NATHAN: Because that girl’s father was going to
make life hell for you. He was going to
force you to marry his daughter. And,
whatever you have done, you are my
sister’s son.
RAGHU: Family obligations.
NATHAN: I have to keep my head up in front of
society.
RAGHU: Nothing like caring or … or affection …
NATHAN: My sister wants to see you fixed up
before you leave India. Who will come
with marriage proposals if they hear of
this stupid story?
RAGHU: Society is cruel and hard and
judgemental. (Pause.) And we are all
part of society. He, she, you, me. All
part of that cruel, judgemental society.
SARALA enters. She looks brighter, more
confident.

SARALA: Oh Raghu, I gave those books to

Damini. She was very thankful.
NATHAN: What books?

277
RAGHU: Nothing much. Some books on Austen.
Ah! That’s the other thing I wanted to
discuss. The library. Can’t we revamp
the whole place? It’s like the black hole
of Calcutta.
SARALA: What is that?
RAGHU: The black hole of Calcutta? You
haven’t heard of it? It was when the
British were here and …
NATHAN: Why are you giving books to Damini?
She is Mr Iyer’s student.
RAGHU: Is there anything wrong giving a
student a few books of criticism? She
seems to be a very intelligent girl and
sensitive to literature. Unlike the kind of
students I have.
SARALA: Oh, you should just see how they write,
Raghu. My remedial class don’t know
how to use English words at all. Today,
I wanted them to write about a college
excursion. See what this student has
written … one one boy sat on one one
cycle.
SARALA and RAGHU laugh.

RAGHU: And one one boy had one one fall.

SARALA: And one one girl had one one fruit.

278
RAGHU: What what you say that that only I will
listen …
NATHAN: Enough! Quite enough! Don’t you have
some shame? These students have
come from poor families. Their parents
are educating them with great difficulty.
They think if these children learn
English they stand a better chance of
getting jobs. And here you are making
fun of them. Raghu, what is gone
wrong with you? Just now you were
shouting about Charles Lamb and now
…
Enter Mr IYER and DR DENNIS. They both look hot
and tired.

DENNIS: What about Charles Lamb? Did he who

made the lamb make the pig?
RAGHU: Ah! Dr D … how was the match?
DENNIS: For want of a catch, the match was
lost.
IYER: We had lost much earlier.
DENNIS: Was it a four? Was it not? Do I live or
do I rot?
IYER: The penultimate ball went clearly over
the boundary line. If you had granted
those four runs as you should have,

279
 they would have won with a ball to
spare.
DENNIS: Just a game, Iyer. They were winning
anyway. I merely wanted to give the
boys an exciting, cliffhanging finish. For
something to talk about.
IYER: There are rules to every game and we
are all obliged to respect those rules.
DENNIS: Spoken like a true sportsman. Sorry
Iyer. The ‘igher you go, the lower I fall
… Rags, why are you looking earnest?
It doesn’t suit you.
RAGHU: I crave your indulgence, gentle sir.
Since we are all here, may I bring a
couple of things to your attention?
NATHAN: Raghu, this is not the way. I have to
convene a meeting, draw up the
agenda, issue notice …
RAGHU: First of all, this non-detailed text. It
should be banned.
DENNIS: So we are left no tools to teach with
nor no stick neither?
RAGHU: We put together small prose pieces
which allow our students to learn
language skills that they can use in
their immediate environment.

280
SARALA: (Giggles.) Oh Raghu. You are
sounding so much like sir.
RAGHU: And we simulate real life situations in
the classroom where they have to
weave together their knowledge of
English vocabulary, sentence structure,
the question form and so on.
NATHAN: Raghu, you are again talking of big
issues. We are a small department in a
small college. How can we …
DENNIS: Sigh no more, syllabus, sigh no more,
men were deceivers ever.
IYER: I agree completely with Mr Krishnan. I
have long felt that our remedial English
students are being assigned work that
is far beyond their capacity to do.
SARALA: Oh yes, sir. You are so very right. Just
today I was seeing their written work
and …
IYER: Yes?
SARALA: No. Nothing, sir.
IYER: If I may suggest, Mrs Nathan … you
could ask for each of our views and
incorporate them in a letter to the
university. I am certain such a letter
would be of some weightage.
NATHAN: But you have written so many times …

281
IYER: I wrote merely to criticise. If I had
forwarded alternate teaching methods,
as Mr Krishnan has done, I might have
been heard.
SARALA: If we could also ask them to lessen the
price of textbooks, sir …
IYER: Reduce.
SARALA: Sir?
RAGHU: That’s a very good idea, Sarala. Maybe
we could do away with textbooks
altogether.
NATHAN: We could just have a teacher’s manual
or something.
RAGHU: And use material like newspapers and
magazines and advertisements … Real
life material. This is terrific. I’m feeling
quite excited.
SARALA: I am also.
DENNIS: Fly away, fly away breath, the
university is an old cruel maid.
RAGHU: Dr D. You haven’t spoken at all. What
do you think about this scheme? It’s
brilliant, isn’t it?
DENNIS: Grow cynical along with me, the worst
is yet to be. It will not work, Rags.
Nothing works in this country except

282
 rank corruption. Now, if you will excuse
me, my throat is parched.
DR DENNIS exits. As he opens the door, there is a
glimpse of DAMINI standing outside, waiting.
RAGHU alone notices her.

IYER: What else did you wish to speak about,

Mr Krishnan?
RAGHU: Sorry? I didn’t quite … oh … oh yes, I
remember. The library.
IYER notices DAMINI too.

IYER: The library. Yes. True, it needs to be

set right. But I am afraid we will have to
postpone that discussion for the
moment.
RAGHU: Why don’t we ask Dami … your
student to give us some feedback on
the library? Her views would be
immensely valuable, wouldn’t you
agree? As a student user of the library.
NATHAN: No, no, Raghu. That kind of thing we
do not do in our college. We have
never done it in the past.
IYER: Mrs Nathan, your nephew’s
enthusiasm is infectious. I will certainly
ask Damini if she could spare us some
time to discuss the requirements of the

283
 library. But now it is time we all went
back to other, more pressing duties.
Gong sounds.

SARALA: Oh, oh I am late.

NATHAN: Sarala, you are forgetting your
attendance register.
SARALA and MRS NATHAN exit in a rush.

Silence, then …

RAGHU: I did not expect you to support me this

way. Thank you.
IYER: I supported the cause.
Pause.

RAGHU: All the same, thank you.

IYER acknowledges the thanks with a small nod.
RAGHU exits. He is seen talking to DAMINI as
IYER watches. DAMINI enters.

DAMINI: Sorry sir. Mr … Mr Krishnan was talking

to me, sir.
IYER: I noticed.
DAMINI: I was thanking him, sir. He lent me some
books.

284
IYER: Books?
DAMINI: Yes sir. Books on Jane Austen. Here …
IYER: (Pushes the books away.) Damini, I
cannot emphasise enough the
importance of a totally unbiased
approach to your text. If you feel you
need a more extensive reading list than
what I have drawn out, you could always
apply to me.
DAMINI: Yes sir. Thank you. But I did read one …
just one of the books he … Mr Krishnan
gave me and it is very interesting, sir. It
talks about the social conditions in Jane
Austen’s time and how difficult it was for
women in those days.
IYER: I would think that the text itself is the
best social documentation of the time.
Look at the emphasis on marriage and
on marriage settlements, particularly.
Unless a middle-class woman was
financially independent and fairly
wealthy in her own right, she dared not
remain single. Remember what
Charlotte says after Mr Collins proposes
to her? (Reads.) ‘Without thinking highly
either of men or of matrimony, marriage
had always been her object; it was the
only honourable provision for well
educated young women of small fortune,
and however uncertain of giving

285
 happiness, must be their pleasantest
preservative from want.’ An extremely
pragmatic young woman, not at all
romantic.
DAMINI: (Excited.) That’s it sir! That’s the
difference!
IYER: Between whom?
DAMINI: Not between whom, sir, but between
what. Between Jane Austen’s novels
and these cheap kind of romances in
circulating libraries. I have a cousin who
reads all these trashy sorts of books and
magazine stories and all that. And one
day, she picked up Pride and Prejudice
and she read it through without putting it
down. And then she turned to me and
said, ‘This is just like the books I read.
It’s so romantic. Why do you say it is
literature?’
IYER: Literature is primarily meant to be
enjoyed.
DAMINI: Yes sir. But then I had an argument with
my cousin because she said that if Jane
Austen’s novels were called literature,
then those other cheap things she reads
should also be called literature and I
should not make fun of her for reading
them.

286
IYER: Surely everyone has a right to read what
they wish.
DAMINI: No sir, they don’t.
IYER: Oh! Why do you say that?
DAMINI: Well sir, if those books were literature,
they would be put in the syllabus, at
least one or two of that type. But they
are not.
IYER: Carry on.
DAMINI: Secondly, those books are false. They
carry the reader to some fantasy place
with fantasy people where all the
problems get solved in the end, like
magic. And they make the reader feel
frustrated because real life is not like
that.
IYER: And Jane Austen?
DAMINI: That’s the difference, sir. Jane Austen
talks of real things like money, marriage
settlements, fear of society, that sort of
thing. If you had a daughter like Lydia
who eloped with a good-for-nothing
man, wouldn’t you feel upset? And
wouldn’t you worry about what people
would say because you had four more
daughters still to be married?

287
IYER: (Laughs.) I am immensely grateful to
providence that I was not born Mr
Bennet.
DAMINI: You are laughing at me, sir.
IYER: No. No. Believe me, I did not mean to …
(Stretches his hand out and touches her
arm. She stiffens, withdraws.)
Pause.

IYER: I am sorry.
Pause.

DAMINI: Well, that is what I wanted to say.

Literature is about real life.
Pause.

IYER: Well, that’s as far as social reality goes.

What about … what about imagination?
Are you not devaluing the role of
imagination in a writer’s craft?
DAMINI: No, sir, not at all. Imagination is what
makes the novel enjoyable. If I gave my
cousin a book on social history, you
think she would read it? Never … I think,
sir, writers are like magicians. They tell
you what card you have chosen, as if
they can read your mind, they cut people
in half and make them whole again, they

288
 make people fly, and they make it look
very real, like life, and then they say, this
is
all illusion, just a game … But strangely
enough, they also seem to say, there is
truth in what we do if you know where to
look.
Pause.

IYER: And do you know where to look?

DAMINI: Not yet, sir.
IYER: But there is a glimmering.
DAMINI: Yes sir.
Pause.

IYER: What is it, Damini?

DAMINI: Sir … it’s nothing, sir.
IYER: Tell me.
Pause.

DAMINI: Sir … sometimes I feel so divided in

myself. As if I was two people. I read
Jane Austen and Wordsworth and
everything they say is like a jewel. And
then my family talks to me and they
seem to be using words that don’t have
any meaning any more.

289
IYER: I have felt that too.
DAMINI: And what did you do, sir?
IYER: I made a choice, a difficult one … I
chose my books and spurned the family.
DAMINI: Oh sir! … Why … why were we born in
India?
Blackout.

End of Act 1.

Act 2
Spot on WOMAN downstage right.

WOMAN: The civilised and the elegant among Jane

Austen’s characters did not speak of business
matters or of filthy lucre. That the second-string
hero in Pride and Prejudice, Mr Bingley, had
acquired his fortune by trade was entirely forgotten
by his upstart sisters. These fine ladies associated
only with people of rank ‘and were therefore in
every respect, entitled to think well of themselves,
and meanly of others’. Ironically, much of England’s
new aristocracy at the time may have consisted of
tradesmen who had come to India and made vast
fortunes and found, like Mr Bingley, that their
wealth protected them from every social stricture.
But then the representatives of the East India
Company did not pretend to be anything more than
businessmen with an eye always on the main
chance. If they studied Indian customs or learnt any

290
of the languages, they were doing so to promote
commerce.
But the concerns changed. Trading could not be
isolated from political commitments and a merchant
venture, started in 1609, grew to be an empire, of
which, in 1877, Queen Victoria was proclaimed
Empress. From then on, till 1945, Indian history
probably read like British history in most
schoolrooms, both in England and on the
subcontinent.
For the Englishing of India had begun long before
this. Lord Cornwallis, Governor General from 1786
to 1793, had already introduced a completely
English administrative structure, the foundations of
the great civil service that even today operates in
India in much the same way as it did under British
rule. But there were other matters that needed
examining too. The natives of the subjugated land
had also to be educated, but how was this to be
done? What medium of instruction would be best in
a country with such a bewildering variety of
languages? In 1835, Lord Macaulay, Law Member
of the Council of the Governor General, in his
‘Minute on Education’ wrote: ‘We have to educate a
people who cannot at present, be educated by
means of their mother tongue. We must teach them
some foreign language. The claims of our own
language it is hardly necessary to recapitulate ….
Whether we look
at the intrinsic value of our literature or at the
particular situation of this country, we shall see the

291
strongest reason to think that, of all foreign
languages, the English tongue is that which would
be the most useful to our native subjects….’
In a single terse sentence, Lord Bentinck gave his
entire concurrence to the sentiments expressed in
the Minute. Thus was born, in Macaulay’s words: ‘a
class of persons Indian in blood and colour, but
English in taste, in opinions, in morals and in
intellect’.
And thus I was formed, wearing Macaulay motley,
my skin brown, my mind English pale.
Scene 1. Twelve weeks later.

MRS NATHAN is at her table, writing. SARALA is

standing near one of the shelves, turning the pages
of a large book.

SARALA: Oh no! It says the same thing here

also…. Now what should I do?
(Pause.) Mrs Nathan?
NATHAN: What, Sarala? I am busy.
SARALA: Sorry, Mrs Nathan. Just one small
question. It is really confusing me,
otherwise I will not disturb you.
NATHAN: If it is about the question paper that
you set, Sarala, I have corrected it and
sent it to the office.
SARALA: Yes. I know. You already told me. This
is not that.

292
NATHAN: Then what is it?
SARALA: You know, in Indian history, there was
a battle between the Indians and the
British in 1857.
NATHAN: Yes?
SARALA: The thing is, in school, they used to call
it the Sepoy Mutiny or the Indian
Mutiny of 1857. But now my students
are saying it is the First Indian War of
Independence. What is the right name?
I am really confused.
NATHAN: What does the name matter, Sarala? In
any case, we did not get independence
for nearly a hundred years after that.
SARALA: But I should not make a mistake about
the name, isn’t it, Mrs Nathan? That is
why I am searching through these
books. But they all say it is the Sepoy
Mutiny. I don’t know what to do.
NATHAN: Why are you wasting so much of your
time on this, Sarala? Are you teaching
history or English?
SARALA: My students want to know, Mrs
Nathan. The first year BAs. Nowadays
they ask me so many questions, my
head goes round and round.
NATHAN: (Exasperated.) It’s because of Raghu! I
knew it. This is all Raghu’s work.

293
RAGHU enters, whistling.

RAGHU: Did somebody take my name in vain?

NATHAN: Raghu, what are you doing? You want
another mutiny?
RAGHU: What? What mutiny?
NATHAN: Ever since you came, we are having
trouble. In three months, in just three
months look at what all you have done.
RAGHU: Can you tell me what you are talking
about?
NATHAN: Yesterday, Dr Dennis’ wife came and
cried and cried. It seems you are
saying all sorts of things to Dr Dennis.
RAGHU: I merely told him to cut himself free. It
would be best for both of them.
NATHAN: And then the students. What sort of
ideas are you putting in their heads?
RAGHU: Telling them to think. Telling them to
use those heads. Is that wrong?
NATHAN: Raghu, they have exams in fifteen
days’ time. You want them to study for
the exams or waste their time in
thinking?
RAGHU: Can’t they do both?

294
NATHAN: No … Sarala, before I forget…. The
office showed me the seating plans for
the exams. I have put that second year
B.Com. boy in one corner where he
can’t cheat. It seems you are
invigilating in that room. Please be
careful.
SARALA: Oh, Mrs Nathan. Can’t I be put in
another room?
NATHAN: Sarala, if you can ask somebody to
exchange with you, then you do it. I
don’t have time to go around asking.
SARALA: It is just that that, boy is …
RAGHU: You know him?
NATHAN: A good-for-nothing fellow. His father is
the owner of that big petrol bunk near
the railway station. Pots of money.
RAGHU: Does the boy tease you, Sarala?
SARALA: Not tease but sometimes …
NATHAN: What nonsense, Sarala. You imagine
too much, reading all that romantic
poetry. Forget about that Elizabeth
Barrett Browning. If you are strict, the
boy won’t dare to wag his tail. Look at
the respect he shows me.

295
RAGHU: If Sarala is worried about managing
this boy, why don’t you let her off? I’m
sure you can get somebody else.
NATHAN: This is my business, Raghu. Do not
interfere. Please.
RAGHU: I’m not interfering, merely giving you a
piece of advice. As head of the
department I think it’s your duty to help
a junior colleague. Remember with this
rotation system, in less than three
years, Sarala will be head. Then what
will Your Royal Majesty do?
NATHAN: Raghu!
SARALA: I … I have some work. I …
SARALA exits hurriedly.

NATHAN: If you have anything like this to

discuss, Raghu, do it at home. Not
here, in the staffroom, in front of
everybody.
RAGHU: Do you give me even half a chance to
discuss anything with you? All I hear
from you is what I hear from my
mother.
DR DENNIS enters.

RAGHU: Character assassination. My character

assassination.

296
DENNIS: They all do it, my boy. Every mother’s
daughter. By the way, I am due for
congratulations.
RAGHU: You …
DENNIS: No, she. Left early this morning … Ah!
The sweet taste of freedom. How I
have missed thee …
NATHAN: Dr Dennis, are you saying Mary has
left you? But yesterday evening, she
was in my house … she did not say
anything.
DENNIS: She should have left long ago.
Yesterday and yesterday and
yesterday crept in that petty pace from
day to day and now my tomorrows
have …
NATHAN: Dr Dennis, where has she gone? Tell
me. I will go and bring her back.
RAGHU: Who is interfering now?
NATHAN: Dr Dennis, please listen to me. Without
your wife, you will drink yourself to
death. At least she kept some amount
of control over you. Let me persuade
her to come back. Please.
RAGHU: Leave him alone. It’s his life.
NATHAN: Dr Dennis.

297
DENNIS: I can see what flowers are at my feet at
last, and what incense hangs upon the
boughs…. Can I help it if Keats
couldn’t? What do you say, Rags?
RAGHU: But now, you should get down to your
writing. That’s what you promised you
would do.
DENNIS: Time enough. Time enough. Let me
savour this intoxication … present
mirth hath pleasant laughter.
NATHAN: I have her mother’s address. I will send
a wire. … In the middle of all my work
…
NATHAN exits.

DENNIS: Forget about me, my boy. How goes it

with you?
RAGHU: Not much headway, I’m afraid.
DENNIS: Have you declared yourself?
RAGHU: My god, no. I’m scared.
DENNIS: Ah, then it’s the true thing. If you’re
scared.
RAGHU: I’ve never felt so foolish. So foolish and
… and … so excited and … so
unworthy.
DENNIS: I’ve felt unworthy all my life.

298
RAGHU: But she makes no sign. What does she
feel about me? What does she think? I
haven’t a clue.
DENNIS: Give her time, Rags. Give her time.
RAGHU: I don’t have much time. I leave the day
after tomorrow.
DENNIS: Much can be done in a day, half a day.
The eyes need only the space of a
moment … When I was courting Mary
…
Pause.

RAGHU: I’m sorry. It must hurt to remember.

DENNIS: Why was that man so bloody right all
the time?
RAGHU: Who?
DENNIS: Men are April when they woo,
December when they wed. Maids are
May when they are maids but the sky
changes when they are wives … The
sky changes. Oh yes it does …
Pause.

DENNIS: She never understood me. I wanted

poetry, she brought me bills. I asked for
passion … she wanted children.
RAGHU: Maybe if you had children …

299
DENNIS: Children? On my salary? On a college
lecturer’s salary?
RAGHU: How do other people manage?
DENNIS: They don’t drink …. Or like my wise
friend Iyer, they don’t marry.
RAGHU: Or their wives work too.
DENNIS: Your wife might. Not the girls of my
generation. Mary studied upto Class
four and then she was kept at home
and trained. To be a thrifty housewife.
To be a good mother…. (Pause.) Poor
thing! I didn’t give her a chance to be
either.
Pause.

DENNIS: Ah well! There’s husbandry in heaven

tonight. And I don’t mean it the way
Shakespeare intended.
RAGHU: I know.
DENNIS: In fact, it will be quite the opposite. No
economising at all. In spirits or in spirit!
Come along, Rags. Do keep me
company.
Pause.

RAGHU: I helped you drive your wife away. I’m

not proud of that.

300
DENNIS: I did it myself, thank you. All by myself.
(Pause.) Remember your letter to the
university which you sent off with such
fanfare. And hope. What happened?
Apply, apply, no reply. That’s me.
Apply, apply, no reply.
RAGHU: And now I don’t suppose you will write
that book.
DENNIS: I don’t suppose so.
RAGHU: For God’s sake, Dr D. aren’t you in the
least bit ashamed of yourself? You’ve
turned your life into a … a desert.
DENNIS: It is, as you have so often told me, my
life, isn’t it? A poor thing but my own.
RAGHU: Shakespeare said that in quite another
context. I wish you wouldn’t turn
everything he wrote into a kind of
travesty …
The door opens and DAMINI peeps in.

DAMINI: Excuse me. I was looking for Mr Iyer.

RAGHU: Oh! Mr Iyer … he … he’s not here. But
… you could come in and wait for him
here.
DAMINI: No. It’s alright. I’ll wait outside.
Closes door.

301
DENNIS: I must be off. I think I have a class …
Oh mistress mine, where are you
roaming? … Come on in, my dear. Mr
Iyer will be here very shortly …
DR DENNIS holds the door open for DAMINI.

DENNIS: Oh run away your true love’s coming,

that can sing both high and low.
DENNIS exits. DAMINI enters.

Silence.

RAGHU: Did you … did you finish the books I

gave you?
DAMINI: Yes. Yes, I did. I gave them to Mrs
Nathan to give to you. Thank you very
much. I hope I have not returned them
too late?
RAGHU: Late?
DAMINI: For packing.
RAGHU: Packing? Yes. No … no, not really.
Pause.

RAGHU: Are you ready for …

DAMINI: (At the same time.) Have you started …
RAGHU: Sorry. Sorry. You were saying … ?

302
DAMINI: Not anything important. You wanted to
know whether I was ready for … ?
RAGHU: … Your exams. Whether you had
studied enough and so on …
DAMINI: When does one ever say one has
studied enough?
RAGHU: That’s true. Very true.
Pause.

DAMINI: Mr Iyer doesn’t even know I’m in college

today. I came to …
RAGHU: To see me? … No. No. That’s just a …
a joke. A stupid joke. But please keep
sitting. I’m sure he will be here in a
minute.
DAMINI: Don’t you think I should go and look for
him?
RAGHU: I don’t think so. You shouldn’t do that at
all. Dr D would have told him and
anyway I wanted to …
RAMANAN enters.

RAGHU: Ramanan! Just the man I wanted. Why

don’t you be a good chap and get us
some coffee? Two coffees.
DAMINI: Please. Not for me.

303
RAGHU: Just a little bit? … Please? Alright,
Ramanan. One by two, okay? And see
that the glasses are clean.
RAMANAN exits.

RAGHU: This one by two … how clever and

Indian it is.
DAMINI: It’s very convenient for students. When
you don’t have much money and want
just a bit of coffee and someone else
wants just a bit too … But I’ve heard
some places don’t allow it anymore.
RAGHU: Well, I suppose it is uneconomical….
(Pause.) You told me you were studying
Keats … part of your third year course.
DAMINI: Yes. His odes. I’ve got a bit stuck with
the ‘Grecian Urn’.
RAGHU: … Thou still unravished bride of
quietness, Thou foster-child of Silence
and slow Time, Sylvan historian who
can’st …
IYER enters abruptly, then.

DAMINI: (Stands up.) Oh Mr Iyer. I … I came to

see you. But Mr Krishnan … he … he
can quote poetry just like you, sir. From
Keats.
Pause.

304
IYER: What men or gods are these? What
maidens loth? What mad pursuit? What
struggle to escape?
RAGHU: What pipes and timbrels? What wild
ecstasy?
IYER: Heard melodies are sweet but those
unheard Are sweeter;
RAGHU: Not for Spenser …
Tell me, ye merchant’s daughters, did
ye see
So fair a creature in your town before,
So sweet, so lovely, so mild as she,
Adorned with beauty’s grace, and
virtue’s store,
Her goodly eyes like sapphires shining
bright,
Her forehead ivory white,
Her cheeks like apples which the sun
hath ruddied,
Her lips like cherries charming men to
bite …
IYER: But if you saw that which no eyes can
see,
The inward beauty of her lively sprite,

305
 Garnished with heavenly gifts of high
degree,
Much more then would ye wonder at
that sight …
RAGHU: Then let Herrick speak for me …
A heart as soft, a heart as kind,
A heart as sound and free,
As in the whole world thou can’st find
That heart I will give to thee.
Bid me to weep, and I will weep,
While I have eyes to see;
And having none, yet I will keep
A heart to weep for thee.
IYER: The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun
The higher he’s a-getting
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he’s to setting.
RAGHU: But what do I do?
I dare not ask a kiss;
I dare not beg a smile;
Lest having that, or this,
I might grow proud the while.

306
 No, no, the utmost share
Of my desire shall be
Only to kiss the air
That lately kissed thee.
IYER: Is it possible
That any may find
Within one heart so diverse mind
To change or turn as weather and wind?
Is it possible? …
All is possible,
Whoso list believe.
Trust therefore first and after preve,
As men wed ladies by licence and
leave,
All is possible.
RAGHU: Which fool wrote that?
IYER: Thomas Wyatt. Sixteenth century.
Before your time.
RAGHU: Is that what you think?
Look as your looking-glass by chance
may fall,
Divide, and break in many pieces small,

307
 And yet shows forth the self-same face
in all
… So all my thoughts are pieces but of
you,
Which put together make a glass so true
As I therein no other’s face but yours
can view.
DAMINI: Oh! Who wrote that?
IYER: Michael Drayton. 1563–1631.
RAGHU: There is a garden in her face,
Where roses and white lilies grow;
A heavenly paradise is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow.
IYER: Thomas Campion. Early seventeenth
century.
Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
RAMANAN enters with coffee. Places the glasses
on the table and waits.

IYER: Coffee? Again?

DAMINI: Sir, Mr Krishnan ordered it. For him and
me.
RAGHU: Drink to me only with thine eyes,

308
 And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I’ll not look for wine.
DAMINI: I know that poem. It’s Ben Johnson. It’s
in the book of poetry you gave me.
RAGHU: Yes, that’s right.
SARALA enters.

SARALA: Oh, coffee! How nice! Raghu, you

ordered it? (Picks up a glass and
drinks.)
RAGHU: … for your sole sake
Heaven hath put away the stroke of her
doom,
So great her portion in that peace you
make
By merely walking in a room.
RAGHU pauses, looks at IYER, and skips two lines
of the poem.

RAGHU: A young man when the old men are

done talking
Will say to an old man, ‘Tell me of that
lady

309
 The poet stubborn with his passion sang
us
When age might well have chilled his
blood.’
Pause.

IYER: Vague memories, nothing but

memories,
But in the grave all, all, shall be
renewed.
The certainty that I shall see that lady
Leaning or standing or walking
In the first loveliness of womanhood,
And in the fervour of my youthful eyes,
Hath set me muttering like a fool.
SARALA: No sir! You can never be … be … that
sir.
DAMINI: Ssh. Ssh ma’am.
RAGHU: The last stroke of midnight dies.
All day in the one chair
From dream to dream and rhyme to
rhyme I have ranged
IYER: In rambling talk with an image of air;

310
 Vague memories, nothing but
memories.
SARALA: Oh! Now I recognise it. ‘Broken
Dreams’ by W. B. Yeats. I read it in MA
… Raghu, you and sir are exchanging
quotations or what? It looks so strange.
Like a game.
RAGHU: It’s as serious as life itself.
IYER: Ramanan, why are you still here? Is
there something you want to tell me?
RAMANAN shows him the slate.

IYER: Yes, I had forgotten. Thank you. But later,

please.
RAMANAN exits.

SARALA: It is so funny. I only remember poetry

quotations in my language, not in
English. So many years I have learnt
English literature and now, even though
I teach also, I still can’t remember.
Blackout.

Spot on WOMAN downstage right.

WOMAN: The land of my birth is equatorial,

dramatic, dense with colour and sound. The
language I first heard was as vivid, with its

311
spice-filled consonants, its images large,
overpowering, invading the nooks of my mind. How
was I to reconcile this with the language of my
education, which seemed to be as ordered as an
English garden, as predictable, as rational? How
was I to control my heritage with white-gloved
hands?
In the harsh, clear light of logic, of the rules of law,
of morality, I was fenced in, safe with my skills in
the English language. But when I wanted to
express the wildness of the monsoon, when I
needed more urgent endearments, when I looked
for words as pulsating as passion itself, I found
Macaulay had done me wrong. My English
upbringing could not cope with my Indian
experience.
Images and sounds crowd around me. From the
epics, Bhima drawing out Dussasana’s entrails,
Draupadi with blood-streaked hair, the smile of the
god Krishna, consummate in trickery and
deception; from folk ballads, a mother singing of
human mortality to her child; from ancient love
poetry, the seductive glances from a woman’s eyes
like bees flashing among jasmine flowers, her
generous hips compared to the sweep of chariots.
Do I let go of all this because they do not fit into the
English garden? Or is there a space there that is
my own?
Ratnaakaram tava griham,
Jaaya cha Lakshmi,

312
Kim deyam asthi bhavate Purushottamaaya.
‘What do I have to offer you my Lord,’ asks the
devotee,
‘What do I have to offer you
Whose house is studded with jewels
And whose consort is Lakshmi, the goddess of
wealth.’
Spot off.

Lights on staffroom.

IYER: Damini, was there anything particular

you needed to discuss?
DAMINI: I thought … if you could explain some
bits of the ‘Grecian Urn’, sir. But I could
come some other time, if you are busy.
I still have a fortnight before the exams.
SARALA: Don’t waste your prep leave, Damini,
doing this and that, alright?
Concentrate on your studies.
Remember how I advised you last
year?
DAMINI: Yes, ma’am.
SARALA: I hope you have kept all last year’s
notes in a safe place.
DAMINI: Yes ma’am.

313
IYER: It would be best if I met you later,
Damini.
DAMINI: Tomorrow, sir?
IYER: Not tomorrow.
DAMINI: The day after?
RAGHU: I won’t be here the day after.
IYER: Yes. The day after.
DAMINI: So shall I go, sir?
Pause.

IYER: On second thoughts, Damini, Mr

Krishnan could help you with Keats.
DAMINI: Sir?
IYER: Mr Krishnan, I hope I do not presume.
RAGHU: Presume? No! No sir. I am … I am
completely delighted.
RAGHU and DAMINI exit.

SARALA: Such a sweet girl. So intelligent also.

She is a sure first class, sir.
Silence.

SARALA: How self-confident she has become!

You should see how she comes and

314
 sits in the staffroom, sir. Even when
you are not here.
IYER: Talking to Mr Krishnan?
SARALA: Oh, you know Raghu, sir. He is always
talking. But he is so straightforward. He
thinks everything that is white is milk.
IYER: I see.
SARALA: I feel very bad that Mrs Nathan has
such a bad opinion of him. That too her
own sister’s son.
IYER: Maybe she has reason to be distrustful
of him.
SARALA: No sir. People misunderstand him,
that’s what. Take, for example, Damini.
He thinks of her as his young sister.
IYER: Has he told you that?
SARALA: No sir. But you can make out … He
talks to me in a very different way, you
know, sir. With me, he …
IYER: There is something I have to discuss
with you now that we are alone.
SARALA: Sir? Yes … yes sir.
IYER: It is about the farewell function for Mr
Krishnan.
SARALA: The …? Oh yes sir. Yes. Ramanan was
asking me also.

315
IYER: I thought we could hold it here in our
staffroom instead of using a classroom.
It would be more …
SARALA: Intimate, sir?
IYER: It would be more informal. I shall ask
Ramanan to arrange the furniture
suitably. Could I ask you to buy a
garland?
SARALA: What kind, sir? Roses?
IYER: I do not think this is the season for
roses.
SARALA: Jasmine?
IYER: I leave it to you. Something pleasing
but not too expensive.
SARALA: Yes sir. And what time are we holding
it?
IYER: Oh yes. Since we do not have classes
tomorrow, I felt, and Mrs Nathan
agreed, that we could hold the function
before the staff meeting. That would
give Mr Krishnan enough time to
complete all the other formalities.
Pause.

SARALA: How much you think of other people,

sir.

316
IYER: I beg your pardon?
SARALA: I used to be so frightened of you sir,
earlier. I thought you were so strict. And
you were also not married so …
IYER: Yes?
SARALA: So I thought you … But then you take
Dr Dennis’ case sir. His wife has left
him. After twenty-six years of marriage.
Twenty-six.
IYER: Who told you about that?
SARALA: The whole college is talking about it,
sir. It seems she took away everything.
And she broke all his liquor bottles and
she …
IYER: Sarala. Dr Dennis and Mrs Dennis
parted as graciously as they could,
under the circumstances.
SARALA: You were there, sir?
IYER: Mrs Dennis is an extremely dignified
lady. Today she was also a very sad
woman.
SARALA: Some people think she is very
beautiful.
IYER: (Aloof once more.) I do not see the
connection.

317
SARALA: When a lady is beautiful, then all the
men are on her side.
Silence.

SARALA: You, Raghu. Even Ramanan looks at

her as if … as if she is a goddess or
something.
IYER: Her life has been a trying one. I hope
she salvages some part of it now.
SARALA: She will hook some other man. There
are so many waiting.
IYER: Sarala, what is it that has happened to
you? Why do you talk this way of a
woman already suffering?
SARALA: Is she the only one who suffers?
IYER: No. We all do … We suffer when we
take a decision, we suffer when we
don’t …
SARALA: What is making you suffer, sir?
IYER: Sarala, has Mr Krishnan been talking to
you?
SARALA: Yes. Quite a lot.
IYER: I see. And this has been about … about
personal matters?
SARALA: Yes.

318
IYER: Of private matters?
SARALA: Yes. Yes. I have …
IYER: You have … what?
SARALA: I have … I have opened my heart out to
him. I have told him everything.
IYER: Everything?
SARALA: About the pain. Waiting. Everything.
Silence.

IYER: Sarala, I have known you for a long

time.
SARALA: Since I was your student, sir.
IYER: That’s right. Since you were my
student. So you will not take it amiss if I
speak to you as a …
SARALA: As a what, sir? As what?
IYER: As a well-wisher.
SARALA: A well-wisher?
IYER: Do not give of yourself so easily.
SARALA: Sir?
IYER: There are many kinds of men. Some
you can trust, but there are others who
can cheat and rob you.
SARALA: What are you saying, sir?

319
IYER: Remember your Shakespeare …
There’s no art To find the mind’s
construction in the face: Macbeth Act
One … Scene …
SARALA: Shakespeare! Shakespeare, Keats,
Shelley! Is that all you can think about?
Sir? Can’t you for one minute think
about us? About us?
Rushes out wildly.

Blackout.

Scene 2. Next day.

Lights on staffroom.

MR IYER and MRS NATHAN are standing

downstage.

NATHAN: There was no need for you to speak to

my nephew that way.
IYER: I am sorry. I had taken a strange step
earlier in the day and I needed to be
reassured.
NATHAN: You were talking to him as if he was a
loafer from the streets. Who do you
think he is?
IYER: Mrs Nathan. You have often spoken of
your nephew in disparaging terms. In
the last three months that he has been

320
 here, you have been suspicious of his
motives. You have watched him and I
am certain you have given him
warning.
NATHAN: I have every right. I am his aunt.
IYER: And I am a senior lecturer in this
institution. I have my responsibilities
too.
Enter RAMANAN. He has changed out of his usual
uniform and worn a white khadi kurta pyjama. He
looks pleased with the effect.

IYER: (Moving away from MRS NATHAN.)

Ramanan. You look very elegant today.
RAMANAN holds up his slate.

IYER: Yes, what is it? Oh, I see. Be Indian. Wear

Indian. That’s very good. But wait. There is
a small spelling mistake. It’s not w.h.e.r.e.
but w.e.a.r.
RAMANAN corrects it and looks proudly at his
work.

NATHAN: Ramanan, if you want to get this place

ready, you should start. When are you
going to do it? After everything is over?

321
RAMANAN puts the slate back on the shelf and
begins to turn the chairs around so as to create the
impression of a lecture hall.

IYER: Bring that chair here, Ramanan. Mr

Krishnan can then sit at the table facing us.
Have you got a clean tablecloth? Why don’t
you ask the office for one? Tell them that I
have sent you.
RAMANAN exits.

NATHAN: I do not understand you, Mr Iyer, even

after all these years. You have made it
clear that you do not like Raghu.
Yesterday, in front of me, you told him
that he was a bad influence in the
college. And now you are taking such
personal interest in this farewell
function — a clean tablecloth, snacks,
coffee. You have ordered everything.
IYER: My personal feelings are of little
importance, Mrs Nathan. Mr Krishnan
has been our colleague, he has worked
with us. It is only befitting that
we send him forth with our good
wishes. It is a convention that I wish to
maintain.
Pause.

322
NATHAN: Mr Iyer. May I ask you for some
advice?
IYER: If I can be of help, certainly Mrs
Nathan.
NATHAN: What sort of a family background does
Damini have?
IYER: I beg your pardon? Damini?
NATHAN: Your Elective student Damini. Is she
from a good family?
IYER: Why do you wish to know, Mrs
Nathan? Has there been a …
NATHAN: Somebody has come with a proposal.
A marriage alliance.
IYER: Already? But she is …
NATHAN: So young. That is what I told him. She
is still very young. Wait for another five
or six years. Let her do her MA also, let
her work for two years, you return from
Canada, and then we will see but no,
he won’t listen, he is adamant.
IYER: Are you talking of Mr Krishnan?
NATHAN: As soon as you left yesterday, what
does he do? He spends money making
a trunk call to my sister and tells her he
wants to marry this girl right away. My
poor sister! What could she do? How
long can you argue on a trunk call? So

323
 she asked me to approach the girl’s
family.
RAMANAN enters carrying a billowing tablecloth
and begins to drape it clumsily on the table.

NATHAN: Oh Ramanan. Not like that. Here give it

to me. Pull more that side. Not so
much. Alright, leave it now.
RAMANAN gesticulates.

NATHAN: What? When to bring the coffee? Ask

Mr Iyer.
MR IYER does not respond.

NATHAN: Alright. You bring it after the speeches

are over. What? The garland? I don’t
know about that.
IYER: I asked Sarala to arrange for it.
NATHAN: That is the other thing. Where is that
girl? She is always late. I expected her
to come a little early today at least and
help us. Instead of which…. What is it,
Ramanan? Yes. The chairs look
alright…. Mr Iyer?
IYER: Yes.
NATHAN: Where should we put the snacks and
all that, Mr Iyer?

324
IYER: Anywhere convenient.
NATHAN: We can put it on the table in that
corner. Will that be alright? … Yes
Ramanan, I think it will be alright ….
What? You want to be here also? … I
suppose … if Mr Iyer has agreed …
But there is still a lot of time … yes.
You wait outside.
RAMANAN exits.

NATHAN: Why does he want to be here?

IYER: Ramanan has reason to be grateful to
Mr Krishnan. Your nephew has helped
him communicate with the rest of the
world.
NATHAN: That way he is a good boy. A very
good boy. He is always ready to help
people. But now what do I do, Mr Iyer?
How do I approach the family?
IYER: Has … has Damini … has the girl
agreed?
NATHAN: That is what made me so angry. The
girl has said yes, it seems. Even before
consulting her parents.
Pause.

IYER: Why do you blame her? … Your

nephew can be extremely persuasive.

325
NATHAN: But to get married? Can a young girl
agree to do it just like that? In one
hour’s time? What does she know
about him?
IYER: What does she need to know?
NATHAN: His background? His family? … And I
may be old-fashioned, but what is her
caste? I don’t even know that.
IYER: He has spoken. She has assented.
NATHAN: Mr Iyer, I am sorry to say this, but now
I understand why you are not married.
IYER: Because I did not speak, is that it?
NATHAN: Because you do not like responsibility.
You want to be like a sthithapragnya.
IYER: A sthithapragnya overcomes
responsibilities. He does not turn away
from them.
NATHAN: And you run away. All your life, you
have done nothing but run away. How
long will you escape, tell me. For how
long?
Enter DR DENNIS, whistling.

DENNIS: Ah! The table is spread. The banquet is

laid. But where is our honoured guest?

326
NATHAN: More important, where is Sarala with
her garland?
DENNIS: True, where is the blushful maid? I
thought she would be here getting
things in order.
NATHAN: I will go and look in the library. She
must be looking for quotations for her
speech … Dr Dennis, please stay put
here. I can’t go looking for you also.
NATHAN exits.

DENNIS: Iyer, I am sorry.

IYER: Pardon?
DENNIS: But it would never have done. She was
too young.
Pause.

IYER: Young and so untender?

DENNIS: So young, my lord, and bewitched.
Pause.

IYER: I am a fool, an old damn fool.

DENNIS: Yes, of course you are. I’m a fool too.
Don’t fret, Iyer. We are all, all of us,
fools.
Enter RAGHU with DAMINI.

327
RAGHU: Who’s talking about fools? I am the
king, the emperor of fools, aren’t I,
Damini? … Mr Iyer, I hope you don’t
mind, I had to bring her. In case I think it
was all a dream. Dr D. I did it. I did it. I
did it.
DENNIS: Sit down, my dear. And get back your
breath.
DAMINI: Thank you. I’m still … a bit dazed.
RAGHU: Dazed! Amazed! Stargazed! Where am
I to sit?
DENNIS: Anywhere but on the coffee.
RAGHU: Coffee. I will never forget the coffee
here. Remember Mini, the coffee … My
God! Was it just yesterday?
DAMINI: Sir. Won’t you … won’t you sit too?
Enter MRS NATHAN.

NATHAN: I can’t find her anywhere. She’s not in

the library, not in the … Damini!
RAGHU: She’s come with me … Anyway, whom
were you looking for?
IYER: You may not have realised it but one of
your colleagues is not here.

328
RAGHU: Of course! Sarala! Where is the poor
girl? Don’t tell me she has forgotten
this is officially my last day here!
NATHAN: And she was supposed to bring the
garland also.
RAGHU: A garland!
DENNIS: A flowery noose.
RAGHU: For me? Oh, this is rich.
IYER: It is a tradition here. Our commerce
may be in a foreign language but we
are essentially natives of this country.
RAGHU: I agree. I agree completely. Why do
you think I’m taking a bride from here?
A native bride?
NATHAN: I don’t know what to do. Do we wait for
Sarala or just start? We have a staff
meeting after this.
RAGHU: Why don’t we forget all this formal
business and sit and chat?
IYER: I think we should begin. Sarala can join
us later. Mr Krishnan, if you don’t mind.
Will you take this chair? Thank you.
The others arrange themselves. RAMANAN enters
carrying a parcel.

329
IYER: Ramanan would like to start the
proceedings by offering you a small gift.
RAGHU: A gift?
RAMANAN presents the parcel.

RAGHU: May I open it, please? Oh Mini, look! It’s

a slate.
DENNIS: You can show it off to your Canadian
friends as a relic from India.
RAGHU: As a low cost educational aid! Thank
you, Ramanan. I shall treasure it. Truly.
RAMANAN gesticulates.

IYER: He hopes your … your child will use it.

RAGHU: Did you hear that, Mini? My child! Not
children, Ramanan?
DENNIS: Our low cost educational aids do not
generally last beyond one child. … Now
if you don’t mind Iyer, Ramanan … I
would like to make my presentation.
May I?
RAGHU: Excuse me Dr D. I have to thank
Ramanan first. Formally. Before he runs
off…. Dear Ramanan, thank you. You
are a very brave man who lives a life of
extreme dignity. You may have lost your
voice box to cancer but believe me, you

330
 have shown me how much silence can
speak.
Applause.

RAGHU: Of course, I don’t understand why you

have this fascination for learning the
English language but all of us have our
eccentricities and this is yours…. I will
explain the word later Ramanan….
Thank you again. And yes. I will send
you more books.
Applause. RAMANAN shakes hands solemnly,
moves aside and exits as DR DENNIS begins to
speak.

NATHAN: I don’t understand why this girl still has

not come.
DENNIS: Ladies and gentlemen, it is my doubtful
privilege to say good things about this
man who seems to be more favoured
by fortune than is really fair.
Nevertheless, we have to observe the
conventions that we have observed
since the Raj and which we shall
continue observing till the sun sets on
the world. So, let me say that the last
three months have been tumultuous
and earthshaking in more ways than
one. I have gained much from knowing

331
 this young man. I wish him every
strength and every joy.
Applause.

DENNIS: Just remember though, Rags, that one

of the last Englishmen in the world
lives here in this college. And this is a
small gift from me … (Hands RAGHU
an old leather-covered book,
unwrapped.)
RAGHU: Dr D. Your Bible!
DENNIS: My first Bible. I used it as a child. I
hope it will be a sweet remembrancer
…
RAGHU: I don’t know what to say, Dr Dennis.
DENNIS: Then you have said enough … Now,
are you going to say the same things
as I have Iyer, or may we adjourn for
some coffee? My throat is parched as
usual.
NATHAN: I am feeling very worried about Sarala.
She has never been this late.
DENNIS: Don’t worry. She’s probably still
wondering which garland she should
get for our hero.
RAMANAN rushes in and gesticulates.

332
NATHAN: The Principal is calling me? Now?
Alright, I am coming …. Please carry
on, Mr Iyer. I’ll be back in a minute ….
NATHAN and RAMANAN exit.

Silence.

DENNIS: So Rags! When do you expect to know

anything definite from the land of the fig
leaf?
DAMINI: You mean the maple leaf?
DENNIS: This time of year thou mays’t in me
behold When fig leaves, or none, or few
do hang Upon those boughs that shake
against the cold …
RAGHU: In a couple of weeks I should think.
DENNIS: And then you cross the black waters.
RAGHU: Not before I am wed.
DENNIS: You seem confident of getting the
official sanction.
RAGHU: That shouldn’t be a problem. One look
at Damini and my mother will …
MRS NATHAN rushes in.

NATHAN: Mr Iyer! Sarala has … she has …

RAGHU: Sarala?

333
NATHAN: She …
IYER: No!
NATHAN: There was a phone call to the Principal
from her landlord. She did not come
out of her room so they …. There was
no response.
DENNIS: And?
NATHAN: They broke open the door…. It was all
over.
RAGHU: What do you mean, it’s all over? Did
they call a doctor?
NATHAN: Yes.
RAGHU: No. I don’t believe it. She would not
have done that. I’m going to see her.
IYER: Going to see what, Mr Krishnan? The
result of your handiwork?
RAGHU: What? What did you say?
IYER: How do you do it? What special tricks
do you have? Sarala. Damini. The girl
you ran away from. How many more of
them do you want?
DENNIS: Iyer. Please.
IYER: She told me. Sarala told me. You cast
a spell on her, you son of a …
RAGHU: Mr Iyer. It wasn’t because of me … I …

334
IYER: Don’t you dare slide out of it, you rotten
cur. I have watched you doing your
dirty work, in the staffroom, in the
canteen, mesmerising her, seducing
her with your fancy talk. She changed
after you arrived here with your bag of
dirty tricks. And you say it wasn’t you?
DENNIS: Iyer. Please sit down. You are not
yourself.
IYER: Let go of me. I am myself. Finally….
You told me, Mr Krishnan, that first
disastrous day when you arrived that I
treated you with disdain. As if I had
known you for a long time. Do you
remember?
RAGHU: Yes.
IYER: You were right. I had known you for a
long time. I had known you since I was
born … you black devil … you …
DENNIS: Iyer, control yourself.
IYER: You were everything I wanted to be.
You had everything I wanted. And then
you come and take away …
RAMANAN comes in with a book.

NATHAN: This is Sarala’s book. The book that

you gave her, Mr Iyer.

335
RAGHU: Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
NATHAN: There is a letter in it.
DENNIS: For whom?
NATHAN: It doesn’t say. It is not even a letter. It
is a poem.
RAGHU takes the sheet of paper and reads from it.

RAGHU: How do I love thee? Let me

count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and
breadth and height
My soul can reach …
I love thee to the level of
everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and
candlelight.
SARALA’S … I love thee with the breath,
VOICE-OVER:
Smiles and tears, of all my life!
— and if
God choose,
I shall but love thee better after
death.
Spot on IYER.

Blackout.

336
Spot on WOMAN downstage right.

WOMAN: I came out of my country twelve years

ago. When I think of myself then, as a student of
English literature, I am filled with amazement at
how much insight I was given into a foreign culture
by women and men who had never seen England,
who had never known a snowbound winter and who
could never have understood the triumphant joy of
English springtime. Why did I forsake them? Why
did I think that the truth was here among a people
who seek the sun but do not know its power? I was
bewitched, beguiled by appearance and
sophistication, too easily, too willingly won.
The history of my land, of all lands that have been
colonised, is uncannily like the progress of a sexual
conquest. Desire. Advance. Invasion. Possession.
Desire a madness, an intoxication, that does not
allow for negotiation or debate. It wants and it
wants immediately. Possession is deliberate,
rational; it takes its time, it laughs. The act of
possession is an imperial talent, the mark of the
conqueror, Tenzing’s foot on the highest summit,
the English alphabet in Indian schoolrooms.
But the act of possession is also consolidation, the
domesticity of sexual thrall, the evening of the
morning after, the lighting of the hearth, the sharing
of a meal by the victor and the vanquished. Is it in
those dark, quiet hours that the positions change?
Is it then that those proud definitions blur and
tremble?

337
Already the definitions have begun to tremble. I
have found my old cooking pot by the side of the
Ganga and the first blue-black rain clouds are
gathering in the south-west sky. The stranger hears
the insistent call of the koel: Where, where, where
are you? He tries to answer but he uses the wrong
words, he always uses the wrong words. I laugh. I
know what he doesn’t.
I have taken from the Englishman what was his. I
have smoothed it and dented it, given it shape,
polished it, fashioned it the way I want. And I know I
possess it now.
When the monsoon breaks, when bodies embrace,
when the child is born, dark brown and glistening,
who can hear the words for the thunder? Where is
the roof, the fence, where is the delicate garden?
My life trembles with meaning and yet whatever I
say, the
words I use, are inadequate, an approximation. But
that I realise the inadequacy is my victory too, the
wealth that sustains me. Do you hear me,
Macaulay, I have my revenge after all.
Across land and water, over hills and desert,
language is a travelling. It can never arrive.
Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for listening.
Blackout.

338