Moshai, that job you had spoken of . . .

Kunjabihari(agitated): Job? What job? Who speaks of jobs on such a beautiful sharat day?

Bashambad:Sir, nobody wilfully speaks of such things, but when pangs of hunger . . .

Kunjabihari:Pangs of hunger? Chhi chhi, for shame, that’s a despicable thing to speak of. Don’t mention it again.

Bashambad:As you say sir, I shan’t mention it again. But it always comes to mind.

Kunjabihari:What’s this you say, Bashambad Babu? Always comes to mind? Even on such a calm, silent, beautiful evening?

Bashambad:Yes sir, it haunts me indeed. At this time, it makes itself felt even more urgently. Long back, at ten-thirty, I had swallowed a few morsels of rice before setting out in search of a job. I haven’t eaten anything since.

Kunjabihari:So what if you haven’t? What if you haven’t eaten?

(Bashambad silently scratches his head)

Don’t you feel, in this sharat moonlight, that human beings don’t have to consume food like animals in order to survive? As if one could pass one’s life quite happily by savouring this moonlight alone, or the nectar of flowers, or the spring breeze?

Bashambad(timidly, in a low voice): Sir, life might well pass away in this fashion, but it would not survive—one needs to consume something more.

Kunjabihari(angrily): Go and consume that stuff, then. Go stuff yourself with fistfuls of rice, dal and chorchori. This place is out of bounds for you.

Bashambad:Where can those things be found, moshai? I’ll go there right away. (Observing that Kunja Babu had flown into a rage) Kunja Babu, you are quite right, just savouring the air in this garden is enough to fill one’s stomach. One does not feel like eating anything else.

Kunjabihari:I am happy to hear you say that. Now you are speaking like a true human being. Come, let’s step out. Why remain indoors when we have access to such a garden?

Bashambad:Let’s go then. (Aside) There’s a chill in the air . . . I am not carrying a wrap either . . .

Kunjabihari:Wah! How exquisite is the sharat weather!

Bashambad:Indeed it is. But it’s rather chilly.

Kunjabihari(wrapping his shawl tight around him): It’s not chilly at all.

Bashambad:No, it isn’t chilly. (He shivers violently)

Kunjabihari(gazing at the sky): Wah, wah, wah! What a blissful sight! Fragments of white cloud floating like swans on the blue lake of the sky, and in their midst, the moon resembles . . .

Bashambad(coughing very hard): Cough-cough-cough-cough!

Kunjabihari:In their midst, the moon resembles . . .

Bashambad:Cough-cough-cough-cough . . .

Kunjabihari(prodding him): Do you hear, Bashambad Babu? In their midst, the moon resembles . . .

Bashambad:Please wait . . . Cough-cough-gag-gag-rasp-rasp . . .

Kunjabihari(enraged): You are a very nasty man. If you must cough in this fashion, please withdraw into a corner of your room and lie there, huddled in a blanket. Such a garden . . .

Bashambad(terrified, desperately suppressing his cough): Sir, I have nothing else. (Aside) In other words, I have neither blanket nor kantha.

Kunjabihari:The splendour of this scene reminds me of a song. Let me sing:

In the beau-u-utiful grove, blossoming in the tree-ees, lovely baku . . .

Bashambad(sneezes violently): Achchhoooo!

Kunjabihari:Lovely baku . . .

Bashambad:Achchhooo . . . Achchhooo . . .

Kunjabihari:Do you hear? Lovely baku . . .

Bashambad:Achchhoo achchhooo!

Kunjabihari:Get out of my garden . . .

Bashambad:Please wait . . . Achchhooo!

Kunjabihari:Out!

Bashambad:I’m getting out right away . . . I have no desire to remain in this garden a minute longer . . . If I don’t leave this place, my very soul will leave my body. Achchhooo! The loveliness of the sharat season is streaming out of my nose and eyes. I’ll soon die sneezing. Achchhooo achchhooo! Cough-cough! But Kunja Babu, if that job . . . Achchhooo!

(Kunja Babu wraps his shawl around himself and gazes silently at the moon)

Enter attendant

Attendant:Your dinner is served.

Kunjabihari:Why did you take so long? Should it take you two hours to serve my food?

Rushes off

 

The Land of Cards

Cast:

Prince

Merchant

Patralekha

Rani Ma

Pack of Cards

Five

Six

King

Queen

Aces, including Haratani Tekka

Knave

Iskabani

Tekkani

Chiretani

Ruiton Saheb

Dahalani

Ten

Scene 1

Enter Prince and Merchant

Prince:I can’t take it any more, my friend.

Merchant:What makes you restless, Prince?

Prince:How can I explain it? Can you explain the restlessness of those flocks of wild ducks flying towards the Himalayas?

Merchant:But that’s their home.

Prince:If it’s their home, why do they come away? No, no, it’s the joy of flying, a joy that has no reason.

Merchant:Do you want to fly?

Prince:Indeed, I do.

Merchant:I don’t understand you at all.