Triveni Journal
1927 | 11,233,916 words
Triveni is a journal dedicated to ancient Indian culture, history, philosophy, art, spirituality, music and all sorts of literature. Triveni was founded at Madras in 1927 and since that time various authors have donated their creativity in the form of articles, covering many aspects of public life....
(A young man with a thin beard standing at the center of the stage. Light is focussed on him).
He: How did this gulf come up between us? Who was responsible for it? You or I or our creator? You are ruthless. You have tantalized me always smiling at me? Have you ever loved me?
(A conquette in her late twenties appears. Light is focussed on her).
She: (standing on her toes and trying to reach a mirror)
Will you look me up, dear? The mirror is too high.
(He moves towards her)
She: (Laughing and swiftly moving away) Good-bye.
He: Please stay. Why are you running away?
She: I know what you would do.
He: Have you given me up?
She: I never took you up
(She moves out of sight)
He: I doted on you. Your non-chalance is driving me to madness. I see you every where in my sleep, in my dreams and meditations. Sometimes in my dreams I become a small child and sit by the side of the corpse of my own body and cry for you.
SCENE-II
(The woman on the stage again. Light is focussed on her)
He: Christ, my lovely Christ!
She: (smiling) Hullo, Johnny! See the greetings. This boy sends me his love and kisses. He is coming to meet me.
(A middle-aged man enters. A large patch of baldness is visible on his head).
The bald-head: (looking at the woman and completely ignoring the young man) Hi, my darling!
She: Your head is always a feast for my eyes.
He: (from a corner) Christ! Why you have forsaken your Johnny?
(The bald-head takes her hand into his)
The bald-head: After a long search I have found you here.
She: Nice of you, dear. You look much younger than when we met on our trekking tour.
The bald-head: You flatter me, dear. You look more lively than when we met last time.
She: I wish we had not met. When I saw you I felt the need of a companion for the first time. Perhaps that was the last time also. Oh, me.
The bald-head: Do you remember what we did when we climbed up that hill?
She: What did we do? Oh, that was glorious. Those heights. Those girls were laughing and shouting. You were after me.
He: (intruding) christ, why do you for sake your Johnny?
She: Don’t you annoy me. Don’t be a kill joy. (turning to the baldheaded man) Those were the real moments of my life. Irresistible. I was wearing only shorts. You gazed all over my body, my toes, my legs, my torso......
The bald-headed man: Let us not waste more time........
(He tries to grab her)
She: (loosening herself) That moment should never be debased. That should not be brought to a meaner level.......
(The bald-head tries to overpower her and they move out of sight)
He: Speak, speak, confess..........
SCENE - III
(The woman in a pool of light. She is pensive, unadorned and looks sober than before).
He: Speak, speak, confess your wrongs.............
She: (crying with a letter in her hand)
He: Speak.......
She: He wrote this letter. The boy I met.
He: That bald-headed fellow, you mean?
She: Shut up. He might be a bit older than you but he was nice.
He: Say what happened?
She: We could not marry.
He: Go to hell, then.
She: Don’t be so harsh. It wasn’t my fault. He is a coward. You men are cowards. God, I’m, not safe. He may come any time and demand love from me.
He: Have you gone too far with him?
She: (after some hesitation) I did. I did everything with him. For twenty years I never knew anything about sex. For the first time I came to know of it.
He: How could you be so heady?
She: I knew it would not last long. But neither of us ever bothered about it.
He: Why did the pig marry someone else?
She: His people prevailed over him.
(Silence)
He: You know that I still love you.
She: Uh!
He I may go to pieces if you don’t care for me.
She: What can I do for you?
He: ........as a doctor or nurse or sister.......
She: As anything?
He: Yes, as anything do this for me......
She: What?
He: Help me have a cry.
She: Let me slap you. That will help you.
He: Be serious, darling. Cover my face with your hair. Let me smother you with kisses. My throat is going dry. My lips are burning......
She: Splash some cold water on your face.
He: Please.......
She: Oh, I cannot contrive that. (She starts crying). I must quit this world. I am the cause of distress to some many.....
He: (Stroking her hair) You don’t know how much I suffer. Do you also suffer?
She: No. But I am cold. Even if I touch you, not a thing will happen. My hands or touch cannot bring relief to anyone.
He: You have no thought for me.
She: If you know, how little think of you when I am alone, you won’t talk like this.
He: Don’t stab me with words. I can activate you. Take these flowers and walk towards me.
(She accepts the flowers and walks towards him flirtatiously)
He: Let us go to a nice place. We will roam around all places, visit the zoo, buy toys and books and watch the birds and squirrels.
She: Then?
He: Then we will know each other on our lips, through our bodies.
She: You mean physically?
He: yes........
She: That’s being selfish. If you really love me you won’t ask for things.
He: What do you mean?
She: Nothing physical. It should be only on the mental plane.
He: How to become my mind without my body? How can you become your mind without your body? We are not expert yogis.
She: Your idea of love is different from mine........
He: Sex may exclude love but love includes sex. Your body has undergone a lot of change during these three years. It is not the same body. So, I’m not loving your body, you see.
She: You love only the body, I know.
He: No, you don’t have the same body, I say. It has changed a lot. But still I love you which means I love you but I can’t explain what this ‘you’ is.
She: Will you please do one thing for me?
He: What is that?
She; Will you stop philosophising or not? Your are crazy.
He: (kneeling) Don’t destroy me.
She: Then let me go (flings the flowers and goes).
SCENE-IV
(The young man now in a corner. An immaculately dressed old man enters).
The old man: You have grown a little plump, darling.
She: Don’t be silly.......you are wearing an expensive neck-tie.
The old man: It is to entice You. Don’t you know where I am coming from?
She: Tell me, dear.
The old man: Guess it.
She: Come out with it quickly or be punished.
The old man: What sort of punishment.
She: I’ll fill your hollow mouth with kisses.
The old man: Then kiss me, baby.
She: Not before you tell me.
The old man: I’m coming from the Yakshini studios.
She: (hugging him and crushing him under her weight) Really?
The old man: The director and the producer want to see you. Better get going at once.
She: You are wonderful, darling. Wait a minute. I’ll change my dress and come.
The old man: Not necessary.
She: Why not?
The old man: you have too many clothes on you already. Ha, ha, ha. Heroines should not wear any clothes.
She: What?
The old man: (removes her garments till she is in her under-clothing) This is enough.
She: You are humouous today. Any way, as I am undressed I’ll have a quick wash and come.
The old man: Oh, not necessary.
She: My nails are dirty. Let me at least cut them.
The old man: There’s no time. Absolutely no time. You are perfectly clean.....
She: Except at one place, perhaps. (Smiles).
The old man: (suddenly looking at the young man) Ask him to get out.
She: He is good. Let him stay on.
The old man: You must adjust your tresses properly.
She: He is good. Let him stay on.
The old man: You must adjust your tresses properly.
She: Please help me do it.
The old man: (stroking her arms and shoulders). You have beautiful arms.
She: Do it quickly.
The old man: (moving closer to her to the consternation of the young man) I’ll see you become a great actress.
She: As though I am not one already.
The old man: (stroking all over her body) You have fine curves........
She: What?
The old man: (kissing her) They will select you for the role.
She: You or they?
The old man: I am there to see to it. You have a fine bust.....
(The young man walks off depressed and shocked)
She: It is enough. He has left. Don’t lose your head.
(She is stupified but does not resist)
SCENE-V
(The young man with a manuscript in his hand. The woman walks slowly towards him)
She: Are you not all right, dear?
He: I’m all right, thanks.
She: You don’t look all right.
He: It may be because of you.
She: You better see a psychiatrist.
He: I know what is wrong with me.
She: What is that?
He: Even if you respond to me I doubt whether you can really give me what I need.
She: What do you need?
He: If I knew that, I would not have been after you.
She: Then wait till you know.
He: I’ll wait.
She: With hope or without hope?
He: My love, my Beatrice, don’t torture me.
She: I am not torturing you.
He: A little tenderness from you can transform my misery into bliss.
She: Suppose I don’t show any tenderness, what will you do?
He: I’ll give you to a villain.
She: What?
He: I’m writing a play with you as a heroine in it (waving a manuscript). In the end I plan to leave you eternally damned in the caresses of a villain. You will never get the hero.
She: (terror-stricken) Please don’t do that. Don’t write any play. I’ll do anything you want.
He: Then smile at me. Your smile means so much to me.
(She labours to smile at him)
He: (shouting with joy) Ha, at last I am free. I have discovered that you have no love for me. That has liberated me. I am free. I am happy. I am not bound to anyone now.
She: This freedom is destructive.
He: How?
She: you cannot give me up unless I give you up. You love me. Don’t you? (smiles cruelly)
He: (looks on stupified) Oh, misery!
She: Here are my arms. Come. You always desired me but never touched me. Take me. Do what ever you like with me.
(He moves towards her. She whips up a knife and stabs him)
She: (looking at his body) god, Is it all over? This love and hate game? You were so full of beautiful passion. I was unworthy of it dear, (kisses him passionately). Here is your Christ, your Beatrice. Take me with you. Who will kindle all those fine feelings in me now? Who will write about me now? Oh, darling, why did not you love me as simply as others did?