by Tanika Gupta
CHARLOTTE:
Let me introduce you to one of our ladies.
Firoza. (Calls out.) Firoza! Do come forward.
Firoza, say hello to everyone.
FIROZA:
Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Very pleased to make your acquaintance.
MARY:
Firoza, do tell the ladies and gentlemen your story.
FIROZA:
I am an ayah – but I like boats. I like the smack of salty wind on my face, the sea breeze in my hair and the thunder of waves. I’ve rolled across those vast oceans back and forth forty times.
MAN 1:
Forty?!
FIROZA:
My mother always said I had itchy feet but to be honest, I never wanted to stay where I was mistreated.
WOMAN:
Your mother mistreated you?
FIROZA:
My mother, my brothers, my husband. I was married at fourteen, a mother at fifteen, lost my baby to malaria when I was sixteen and my husband and family abused and blamed me. So I ran away from them all.
I looked after English families’ children on the voyage over here from our country and then I would go back again. If I counted up how many children I looked after, I would say it was about two hundred.
Everyone gasps. A few people applaud her.
FIROZA:
However on my last voyage over there was a storm and a piece of ship’s masonry fell on my leg. I was badly wounded and could no longer work. Back in London, I fell destitute. If it wasn’t for Mary and Charlotte finding me begging on the streets, I don’t know what I would have done. They took me to a good doctor and my leg is healed now.
Everyone claps and cheers.
CHARLOTTE:
Now ladies and gentlemen, a little stroll through the bedrooms and then on to the gardens?
As the ladies and gents all saunter off for a guided tour, the ayahs are all left on their own.
FIROZA:
Did I perform well?
RANI:
You should be on the stage.
The honourable ayah saved by charity and good works.
FIROZA:
I sounded like a mad pirate.
RANI:
‘The smack of salty wind on my face, the sea breeze in my hair’.
They fall about laughing. They get up from their demure occupations at the table and a couple of them run to the window to look outside.
AYAH 1:
They’ll be back in a moment!
FIROZA:
They’ll be ages – oohing and aahing about the rooms, the gardens, the weeping willow…come on, we’ve waited for this day long enough.
RANI:
A roof over our heads.
FIROZA:
A decent bed with a soft mattress. And coverlets.
AYAH 1:
And clean wash-rooms.
FIROZA starts to sing a jaunty sea shanty. The others all sing along and dance.
AYAH 1:
Quick! They’re coming back!
Everyone rushes back to their seats, picks up their embroidery etc. and sit down in complete silence. CHARLOTTE re-enters with the ladies and gents. As they all troupe in, they are all delighted with the tour.
WOMAN 1:
Excellent accommodation. Thank you for showing us around.
MAN 1:
Ladies, you are all very lucky.
Everyone starts to leave.
DADABHAI NAOROJI turns to RANI.
DADABHAI:
I’d been standing here wracking my brain, trying to work out where we met before and then suddenly it came back to me in a flash. You are the inquisitive ayah!
RANI:
Inquisitive ayah?
DADABHAI:
That’s what myself and Gandhi nicknamed you. You spent the entire voyage asking everyone questions.
RANI:
I’m sorry. I hope I wasn’t a terrible bore.
DADABHAI:
To the contrary my dear. We both remarked on how it was a mark of intelligence.
I am sorry to learn that you had fallen on hard times. How have you managed these past few years?
RANI:
I found friends who helped me…I went to evening classes…brushed up on my reading. I am alright now. It’s good to see you Dadabhai. I’ve read about you in the papers and I’ve even been to hear you speak a few times.
DADABHAI:
Young lady. As your fellow countryman, I am very proud of your achievements. Keep up the good work.
DADABHAI does a little bow and then turns to exit along with the others.
RANI calls out to him.
RANI:
Mr Naoroji…please wait…
DADABHAI stops and turns.
RANI:
I know that you are campaigning to get into Parliament.
DADABHAI:
Yes my child.
RANI:
I want to help you in your work – in any way I can.
DADABHAI:
And how do you suppose you could help me?
RANI:
By taking notes…of meetings…making appointments for you…
DADABHAI looks at RANI long and hard.
DADABHAI:
You are interested in politics?
RANI:
Yes.
DADABHAI:
Why?
RANI:
I want to help people who have fallen by the wayside. The poor and the destitute.
DADABHAI:
Noble sentiments Rani, but you should perhaps help the Church in their work. The ladies here would welcome it.
RANI:
But I am not a Christian and I do not always agree with their methods.
DADABHAI:
Ah ha! So you are a traitor to the cause.
RANI:
No! I want to support your work to be the first Indian Member of Parliament. We need a voice in there. We are undervalued and treated as beneath the white man’s concern. I know, from personal experience.
You said you were proud of me. I too am proud of you.
Beat as DADABHAI appraises RANI.
DADABHAI:
Come to my house at noon tomorrow. Let us see how accomplished you are. I expect hard workers and quick minds.
RANI:
I can do it.
DADABHAI:
I am not promising anything.
DADABHAI gives RANI his card with his address on it.
RANI:
Thank you Dadabhai. I will be there.
DADABHAI places his hand gently on RANI’s head and then exits.
DADABHAI:
’til tomorrow my child!
SCENE 4
Osborne House, 1891.
VICTORIA is seated at a desk, writing, whilst ABDUL is standing to one side in a pose. He is particularly well-dressed in a flamboyantly tied turban. A PORTRAIT PAINTER is painting him. LADY SARAH is standing by VICTORIA’s side handing her papers to sign or to read.
LADY SARAH:
Another letter from Cecil Rhodes.
VICTORIA:
He’s always writing to me.
LADY SARAH:
He says here: ‘I contend that we are the first race in the world and that the more of the world we inhabit the better it is for the human race.’
VICTORIA:
He is indeed a most loyal and ardent servant. And of course, a very wealthy one.
LADY SARAH:
(Giggles.) Mr Rhodes writes here that if he could, he would annexe the planets in the sky for his Queen.
VICTORIA:
He is rather too ardent.
ABDUL:
Excuse me sir.
PAINTER:
Yes?
ABDUL:
Might I make a small suggestion as regards this portrait?
PAINTER:
Indeed.
ABDUL:
Given that I am Her Majesty’s Munshi – her teacher you understand, rather than standing here empty-handed…would
it not be more appropriate for me to be holding a book? I think it would more suitably convey the fact that I am a man of learning.
PAINTER:
An excellent suggestion. Ma’am?
The PAINTER looks across at VICTORIA.
VICTORIA:
Lady Sarah, bring Abdul a gilt-edged book.
LADY SARAH hides her emotions, curtseys and exits the room.
(Calls out.) And do make sure it isn’t a Bible. How is the portrait coming on?
PAINTER:
Favourably ma’am.
VICTORIA:
We wish to present it to our loyal servant Abdul by the time of his birthday in four months’ time.
PAINTER:
I have no doubt that I will be able to complete the task. (To ABDUL.) Mr Karim, do please stay still.
ABDUL:
It is quite hard to keep in this position for prolonged periods.
LADY SARAH re-enters and hands ABDUL KARIM a book.
LADY SARAH:
Mr Karim is a young man of action and thus finds it hard to keep still in one place.
PAINTER:
We will take a break in a while.
ABDUL:
Thank you Lady Sarah.
LADY SARAH looks at ABDUL coldly and returns to her station by VICTORIA.
ABDUL:
And perhaps a quill pen?
PAINTER:
I think a book will suffice.
ABDUL:
A book without a pen seems a little… incomplete.
VICTORIA:
Lady Sarah, here, please give this to Abdul to hold.
VICTORIA takes a quill pen from her desk and hands it to LADY SARAH. LADY SARAH takes the pen across to ABDUL. The PAINTER takes the pen and arranges ABDUL in a pose with book and quill.
LADY SARAH returns to VICTORIA’s side. VCTORIA glances over a letter.
LADY SARAH:
And there has been some more progress in Uganda…our military administrator Lugard held firm against the Germans and the French in a battle over the four hills of Kampala.
ABDUL:
Thanks I believe to his possession of a Maxim machine gun, ma’am.
LADY SARAH:
What is your meaning?
ABDUL:
Simply that many innocent lives must have been lost in a matter of hours. War brings terrible suffering, something you have never experienced, ma’am.
VICTORIA:
We may be Queen and Empress but we are not made of stone. We can still feel for the suffering of our subjects. They are all our children.
ABDUL:
But feeling is not the same as experiencing ma’am.
LADY SARAH is furious.
LADY SARAH:
(To ABDUL.) I do not think it appropriate to have to listen to your audacious opinions on…
VICTORIA:
Abdul is my teacher.
LADY SARAH:
Of the Indian alphabet.
VICTORIA raises her hand to stop LADY SARAH.
ABDUL:
My apologies Lady Sarah, I did not mean to show disrespect.
LADY SARAH:
It is not to me you should be apologising but to our Queen.
ABDUL:
As a teacher, I cannot help but question things I notice.
LADY SARAH:
As a servant of the Queen, you should know your boundaries.
VICTORIA:
Please, will you both stop bickering?
LADY SARAH glares at ABDUL.
ABDUL:
Ma’am, I am simply raising an interesting philosophical question. How is it that monarchs are able to remain human whilst their subjects suffer such great hardships?
VICTORIA is silent.
You have no fear, you do not have to subject yourself to the daily humiliation of abuse. You are subservient to no one. Every day, as we speak, in Africa your subjects are gaining more land in your name. True, the Africans are not enslaved anymore but how can your power as a monarch be kept just and fair?
VICTORIA is emotional. The PORTRAIT PAINTER stops, slightly shocked at ABDUL’s nerve.
LADY SARAH:
Slavery has been abolished. The African people are free subjects of the British Crown. We are not gaining land through war, we are making treaties with the tribal leaders of those countries.
ABDUL bows to LADY SARAH.
LADY SARAH:
Her Majesty’s duty is to bring light into darkness, the very essence of our country’s destiny is to bring civilisation to the world.
The PORTRAIT PAINTER busies himself with his brushes, slightly flustered.
ABDUL:
Forgive me if I have spoken out of turn ma’am.
VICTORIA:
We are not blind to injustices. Our Christian beliefs are intended to spread harmony throughout the empire. It pains us to see our emissaries causing death and destruction in subjugating people.
We bring order to chaos. We are not in the habit of quelling nations through brutality. We do not seek to cause suffering.
ABDUL:
Ma’am, if only your agents and servants abroad were as high-minded as you are. Then the world would be a happier place.
ABDUL bows in deference but VICTORIA is unnerved by the conversation. The PORTRAIT PAINTER holds his nerve and continues to paint. LADY SARAH is stunned by ABDUL’s audacity.
SCENE 5
NB. Somewhere during this scene/at the beginning we see HARI being roughly carried off the ship by two fellow LASCARS. He is beaten and bloodied. SERANG ALI stands over him as HARI is thrown to the ground.
SERANG:
The Captain does not want you on board his ship. He says you are a poisonous influence on your fellow seamen and a trouble maker.
HARI groans in pain.
SERANG helps HARI up. He looks back at the ship nervously.
SERANG:
Go. Get away before the Captain changes his mind and claps you in irons.
HARI:
At least give me the name of the country you are leaving me in.
SERANG:
The Cape. This is where we part ways Hari. I wish you luck. Go well and succeed.
SERANG gives HARI one last look and exits.
RANI sits, shy and nervous in a drawing room. DADABHAI sits at his desk. He hands over a pamphlet to RANI.
DADABHAI:
Out loud please…I just want to see how well you can read. No point trying to help me in my work if you can’t read. What is the title of the piece?
RANI:
‘The Heathen at Our Gate’.
DADABHAI:
Very good. Do you know what a heathen is?
RANI:
Someone who is not Christian?
DADBHAI:
A derogatory, Biblical term. Go on.
RANI starts to read. At first nervously, stumbling over the words and then more confidently.
RANI:
‘There are at this moment estimated twenty-six Indian students of law attending our universities across the country. Groups of uncontrollable raw youth lacking self-control are roaming the streets at night. Considered unable to withstand the pressures of English society, these dark-skinned men easily succumb to the temptations of London life in particular. They find attractions of a London brothel (She coughs apologetically.) and intercourse with white women almost irresistible. Unlike their sisters in India the English woman here finds the Bengali Baboos captivating and rush at them willingly becoming their victims.’
DADABHAI:
It is quite an epidemic.
RANI:
Dada?
DADABHAI:
Overrun by twenty-six young Indians. How awful. It’s like the Vikings all over again.
DADABHAI laughs uproariously at his own joke. RANI watches him laugh and joins in.
DADABHAI:
Tell me Rani, what have you read?
RANI:
Novels mainly…Charles Dickens, Thackeray, Jane Austen, Brontës, Kipling…
Kipling…hmmm…but very well-read. I will give you other books to read – political articles, writings from our own country as well as here. I am standing as the Liberal candidate in a month’s time, so it’s all hands to the deck…
RANI:
May I ask you a question Dadabhai?
DADABHAI:
I would be most disappointed if you didn’t.
RANI:
Why do you want to be a Member of Parliament?
DADABHAI:
Good question. I believe in English fair play. I also believe that we have to educate the British electorate as to the real conditions of India as a preliminary to awakening our call for reform.