Three Plays

by Gurcharan Das

  LAWRENCE: If you wish.

  CURRIE: I do. (Turning back again.)

  A word of advice, Mr Lawrence. I hope you will restrain your orientalism and keep the natives at a distance. Keep them in their place if you have to rule them.

  LAWRENCE: Who’s going to rule anyone! His Highness Dalip Singh is the Maharaja. His mother is the Regent. Sardar Lal Singh is the Wazir. I am merely the agent of a friendly power.

  CURRIE: Come, come Mr Lawrence.

  LAWRENCE: (Emphatically.) As for treating the people, I will simply do for them as I would have them do for me.

  (Exeunt Currie and Elliot.)

  LAWRENCE: Sher Singh?

  SHER SINGH: (Elegantly bowing.) The one and only.

  LAWRENCE: What brings you here?

  SHER SINGH: Breathing the fresh air of the Sutlej.

  LAWRENCE: I mean here?

  SHER SINGH: Just following my nose.

  LAWRENCE: And what does the nose say?

  SHER SINGH: The nose says that my friend Larins is going up in the world. And he needs my help.

  LAWRENCE: (Raising his eyebrows.) Oh? How does Sher Singh’s nose come to this conclusion?

  SHER SINGH: Because Sher Singh follows the advice of the wise man of our land. Unlike you Angrez who keep your noses up, we keep our noses down.

  LAWRENCE: (Tongue in cheek.) Ah, that explains the difference. Obviously we have not been making good use of our noses.

  SHER SINGH: There are noses and noses.

  LAWRENCE: Ah, I see.

  SHER SINGH: Yes.

  LAWRENCE: And with that we end today’s dissertation on noses.

  (Seriously.)

  Sher Singh, I’m appointed the Resident at Lahore.

  SHER SINGH: (Lets out a loud cry, and leaps and embraces Lawrence.) Wah, wah Larins! It is written. Ever since the day my grandmother read your horoscope, I said to myself, Larins is to become a great man. It is written. You are merely reaping the fruit of your past lives, Larins. I mean Larins Sahib. Now you are a big man I must call you ‘Sahib’—Resident Sahib.

  (And he bows.)

  LAWRENCE: (Trying to cope with Sher Singh’s burst of enthusiasm.) What’s written, or where it’s written, I don’t know. I do know that keeping the Darbar together and honouring the Treaty are not going to be easy.

  SHER SINGH: (Dismissing Lawrence’s difficulties with an easy flourish.) You leave the Darbar to me. It’s easy to handle a Sardar (Confidentially.) You know why? Because he’s not very smart. Wah, I’m an old hand at this game. Besides they’re my own flesh and blood, aren’t they?

  LAWRENCE: Which side are you on?

  SHER SINGH: I know you, my friend. And that’s enough for me. If you can repeat your triumphs of Ferozepur in the whole of the Punjab, then the Punjab will forget the One-eyed Lion.

  (Pause.)

  Can I join you, Larins?

  LAWRENCE: Don’t be a fool, Sher Singh. How will the Sardars take it?

  SHER SINGH: (Hurt.) You don’t want me?

  LAWRENCE: Of course I want you. You’ve a brilliant career ahead of you in the Darbar. As the future brother-in-law of His Highness, you’re likely to be one of the most powerful men in the Punjab. Why do you want to spoil it?

  SHER SINGH: I don’t want brilliance that way. I want to earn it, just like you. Just like the One-eyed Lion.

  LAWRENCE: Are you sure?

  SHER SINGH: Only God can be sure. For myself, I know what I want. Together we’ll do for the Punjab in a year what the Lion couldn’t all his life.

  LAWRENCE: (Admonishing.) Don’t speak like that about His late Highness. He was a great man. We should be lucky if we can continue his work.

  SHER SINGH: (Jeering.) Ha, ha, Larins. You’re still under his spell. You know what the wise man of our land says:

  ‘Among the blind, the one-eyed is king!’

  LAWRENCE: (Sharply.) Is that how the One-eyed Lion was king?

  SHER SINGH: (Appeasingly.) No, no.

  LAWRENCE: All right, Sher Singh, come.

  SHER SINGH: (Giving Lawrence a manly hug.) Let’s go to Lahore. Lawrence: Yes, let’s go.

  Act One Scene 2

  A month later. Lahore, a town on the banks of the Ravi—capital of the Punjab. The private apartments of H.H. Dalip Singh. It is late evening and the elderly Baba is reading to the twelve-year-old Maharaja.

  BABA: (Reading.) … and the crane asked, ‘What is the road to heaven?’

  DALIP: (Interrupting.) I know. Can I answer?

  BABA: What?

  DALIP: Truthfulness!

  BABA: ‘And how does a man find happiness?’ next asked the crane …

  DALIP: By mastering his ego!

  BABA: ‘When is a man loved?’ was the crane’s third question.

  DALIP: When he’s without vanity!

  BABA: Finally the crane asked, ‘of all the world’s wonders, which is the most wonderful?’

  DALIP: That no man, though he sees others dying, thinks he will ever die!

  BABA: ‘Right,’ said the crane, and with that transformed himself into …

  DALIP: (Bored.) Bas, Baba. Why do we have to read the same old thing every night? Why don’t you tell me about the war with the Angrez.

  BABA: No, your Highness. There are dark corners …

  DALIP: Yes, yes. I want to hear about Sobraon and Ferozshahr.

  BABA: Shh, your Highness.

  DALIP: (Loudly.) I command you.

  BABA: No.

  DALIP: (Shouting.) Yes.

  BABA: (Reluctantly.) But don’t repeat these words. You know our Khalsa were winning at Sobraon. And we were about to inflict a terrible defeat on the British.

  (Pause.)

  DALIP: Go on, Baba.

  BABA: No.

  DALIP: You must tell me.

  BABA: (Uncomfortably.) Just as the British were falling back to a second line of defence, they received a secret message from your Commander-in-Chief.

  DALIP: (Savagely.) Tej Singh!

  BABA: Shh!

  DALIP: What did the message say?

  BABA: (Almost whispering.) That your army’s left flank was unguarded. So the Angrez put all his forces there. Your Sardars then called a retreat, leaving the entire Sikh army in confusion. Your Commander-in-Chief fled back across the Sutlej, along with the Wazir, and also broke the bridge over the river. The Sardars, thus, not only betrayed their soldiers but also cut the retreat of the army!

  DALIP: Traitors! The dirty traitors! Lal Singh! Tej Singh! I’ll kill them.

  BABA: Shh! your Highness. They will be rewarded according to their karma.

  DALIP: (Suddenly.) Go away, Baba. I’ll call you when I want to sleep.

  (Baba leaves. Dalip goes towards the balcony. Sound of footsteps, and Rani Jindan enters quickly as a mother enters her child’s room. She is about thirty, and definitely attractive.)

  RANI: Dalip! Dalip! (She goes over to the bed, expecting to find her son there.)

  Why—where—? (Loudly.)

  My lal!

  (Dalip looks into the room; she runs towards him and clasps him.)

  Out in the cold night air? Not in bed yet? Where’s Baba?

  DALIP: (Quite lost, and still looking outside.) I threw him out. I wanted to be alone.

  RANI: My lal, you must sleep now.

  DALIP: Don’t lal me, Mai. Haven’t you already got a lal?

  RANI: (Admonishing.) Shh … (She slaps him lightly, and he lets out a yell.)

  You mustn’t talk this way. Who’s been teaching you these mischievous things?

  DALIP: Nobody.

  RANI: Why, if I tell this to Raja Sahib, he would be so offended.

  DALIP: Let him be.

  RANI: My child, why are you against him so? He’s a nice man. And so important now after the Treaty. He’s the Wazir of the Punjab! Until you are old enough, Raja Sahib will rule the kingdom.

  DALIP: (Mimicking the way of obsequious courtiers.) It’s always Raja Sahib this … Raja Sahib that …

 
RANI: Shh … my child.

  DALIP: But I’m the king, Mai. Why is it that no one looks up to me?

  (Proudly.) During my father’s days there used to be such fear of the king. You said so yourself.

  (Pause.)

  RANI: Dalip, do you know what day it is?

  DALIP: It’s my father’s birthday. But Mai, why aren’t there any lights? There’s no music and dancing as we have every year.

  RANI: We’ve lost a war, child. The state treasury is empty. We owe the Angrez more than one crore rupees.

  DALIP: How much money is that, Mai?

  RANI: It’s a lot of money, my son. And the army still has to be paid.

  DALIP: I thought we were the strongest and the richest country in the whole world.

  RANI: We were—in the days of your father.

  DALIP: Why aren’t we now?

  RANI: (Determinedly.) We will be, my boy. Wait, we will be.

  DALIP: When, Mai?

  RANI: Soon.

  DALIP: When I grow up?

  RANI: Yes.

  DALIP: What will I be like when I grow up?

  RANI: You’ll be strong like a lion—just like your father.

  DALIP: (Enthusiastically.) Yes, I’ll be the Lion of Victory. I’ll throw them out. (Takes out his toy sword from his belt.)

  I’ll fight them all and defeat them. Just like my father. I’ll win victory after victory. When I have defeated them all, then I’ll fight the Angrez. And I’ll defeat him too.

  (Wiping her eyes, Rani rushes to him and embraces him.)

  RANI: Yes, yes. You’ll defeat them all. But not tonight. Now it’s time for milk and then bed. I’ll call Baba.

  DALIP: Do we have to defeat the Angrez?

  RANI: Why?

  DALIP: Because then Larins Sahib will go away. I like him. He taught me to shoot a gun.

  RANI: Has he been talking to you?

  DALIP: Yes, he’s my friend. He plays with me.

  RANI: (More to herself.) You mustn’t see him alone.

  DALIP: Why, Mai?

  RANI: Enough questions now. Off you go. If you want to be brave and strong like your father, go drink your milk and to bed.

  DALIP: Is it true that father drank five seers of milk a day?

  RANI: Oof! More questions.

  DALIP: Then I’ll win victories?

  RANI: Yes.

  DALIP: (Suddenly.) Mai, I’m afraid.

  RANI: Of what, my boy?

  DALIP: I get bad dreams.

  RANI: A brave boy like you who is going to conquer the whole of Hindustan, you shouldn’t be afraid.

  DALIP: But I am.

  RANI: You know what your father used to say about bad dreams. He said the surest way to escape a pursuing tiger is to turn yourself into one. Then he won’t touch you. So with everything else. Just become whatever is going to hurt you.

  (Lal Singh is announced.)

  RANI: (In greeting.) Sat-Sri-akal, Raja Sahib. Bow to your elders, my boy.

  DALIP: (Drawing back.) No.

  LAL SINGH: What’s the matter, your Highness?

  (Goes towards Dalip, who recoils.)

  You don’t want my blessings?

  (Softly.)

  What’s the trouble, my lad?

  DALIP: Go away! I don’t like you.

  RANI: (Sharply.) What! What sort of a behaviour is this? (She goes over to him, but he runs to the other side.)

  Come here.

  DALIP: Mai, he’s a traitor.

  LAL SINGH: Your Highness, what’s this silly talk? You don’t believe all this nonsense?

  RANI: Naughty boy. I think it’s past his bed-time. I’ll call Baba. Let’s go away, Raja Sahib. I am sorry for this …

  DALIP: Why, Mai? He’s a traitor.

  LAL SINGH: Again the same silly thing. What do you mean, child?

  DALIP: What happened at Sobraon, Mai?

  LAL SINGH: (Firmly.) What happened at Sobraon, sir?

  RANI: I think this has gone far enough.

  LAL SINGH: No, I want to know. Who’s been talking to this boy?

  RANI: Raja Sahib, he’s tired. Let’s stop this nonsense. We must find who’s been filling the boy’s ears …

  LAL SINGH: The Company Angrez has been spending a lot of time with him.

  DALIP: No. It’s not the Resident Sahib.

  (Knocking. Royal ADC enters, and delivers a message to Lal Singh.)

  ADC: Hazur!

  LAL SINGH: Speak of the devil. The Resident Sahib awaits our pleasure on an urgent development in the town.

  RANI: (To the ADC.) Send him in.

  LAL SINGH: Here?

  RANI: Why not? (To the ADC.)

  Go. (She whispers something in Lal Singh’s ear, then goes to the boy who is near the balcony.)

  My boy, your friend, the Resident Sahib, will soon be up here. Ask him to wait. We will be back in a minute.

  (They go and hide behind the curtain. Henry Lawrence enters with the ADC ahead of him. The ADC salutes. Not finding anyone, he salutes again, clicking his heels. Dalip peeps in.)

  DALIP: (To the ADC.) You may go. The others will soon be here.

  (Pause.)

  LAWRENCE: (Bows, oriental fashion) The Governor-General’s Agent presents greetings to His Highness.

  (Dalip nods.)

  I came to see your mother and the Wazir, your Highness.

  DALIP: His Highness, the Maharaja of the Punjab, Peshawar, Jammu and Multan presents his salaams to the Resident Sahib. The Rani Sahiba and the Wazir Sahib will be here shortly.

  LAWRENCE: (Goes to him affectionately.) So young man, what keeps you up so late? I’m told you’re usually in bed by now.

  DALIP: (Enthusiastically.) Larins, I shot five perfect ones today.

  (Whispers something in Lawrence’s ear. Lawrence moves towards the curtain.)

  LAWRENCE: Bravo! You’re going to be a great shot!

  DALIP: Oh, but not as good as you. You’re perfect, Larins. When are we going on shikar?

  (Lawrence winks at Dalip. Then points to the right end of the curtain Dalip shakes his head and points to the left.)

  DALIP: Larins, do you know the way to heaven?

  LAWRENCE: No. What is it?

  DALIP: I know. Truthfulness.

  (Lawrence stands motionless before the curtain.)

  LAWRENCE: Someone is not going to heaven. ‘How now? a rat? Dead for a ducat, dead!’

  (Lifts his foot, and gives a huge kick to the left end of the curtain. The response is immediate.)

  LAL SINGH: (A yell of pain.) Hai!

  (Comes out from behind the curtain, holding his leg. Rani is also revealed. Exit Dalip.)

  LAWRENCE: Sorry, Raja Sahib. I had no idea you were back here. I was just trying to kill a … a … a … rat.

  RANI: A rat?

  LAWRENCE: Yes.

  RANI: (Sarcastically.) The Angrez has a funny manner of killing rats.

  LAWRENCE: We always kill them this way in England.

  RANI: (Angrily.) In future, you might care to leave the palace rats to the palace cats. The Treaty gives the Agent no jurisdiction to act within the palace.

  LAWRENCE: Yes, Rani Sahiba.

  RANI: State your business, please.

  LAWRENCE: (Bowing in proper fashion.) The Governor-General’s Agent presents salutations to the esteemed Queen Mother and Regent, and his Lordship, the Wazir of the Darbar.

  RANI: (Coldly.) The Queen Mother’s salaams to the Resident Sahib.

  LAL SINGH: (Still smarting from the kick on his shin.) The Wazir’s salaams to the Resident Sahib.

  LAWRENCE: Please accept the Governor-General’s greetings on this auspicious day.

  (Hands a document to Lal Singh.)

  RANI: (Ironically.) We are touched by the Angrez Government’s gesture.

  LAWRENCE: (Brushing aside the irony.) It isn’t every day that we share in the glory of the Lion of the Punjab.

  (To Lal Singh, who appears to be making an effort over the document.)

  May I read it, s
ir?

  LAL SINGH: That won’t be necessary.

  LAWRENCE: Perhaps, if your Excellency turned it upside down, it would be easier …

  RANI: Your sarcasm is lost, Resident Sahib.

  LAWRENCE: We beg a hundred pardons.

  RANI: Begging comes easy to the Angrez.

  LAWRENCE: Begging is the only course before a beautiful woman.

  RANI: (Ruffled, but quickly recovering.) False chivalry doesn’t win laurels in our country.

  LAWRENCE: What about true chivalry?

  RANI: Exists only among horses.

  LAWRENCE: The Rani doesn’t do justice to men.

  RANI: There are men and men.

  LAWRENCE: (Laughs.) No. There are men and women.

  RANI: (Frustrated.) Oh … to have such thick-headed Residents is surely the fate of the most unfortunate among God’s creatures.

  LAWRENCE: The unfortunate creatures have the sympathy of the Resident.

  RANI: Before the Resident becomes too generous will he be pleased to state his business?

  LAWRENCE: He will be honoured. (Suddenly in changed tone.)

  I came to inform you of two things. The Khalsa at Bannu led by the English officers has isolated the difficult tribes, and things are on the way to normalcy on the Frontier.

  RANI: (Coldly.) Our congratulations!

  LAWRENCE: (Exaggeratedly.) Thank you.

  RANI: What else?

  LAWRENCE: A most unfortunate incident has just occurred near the Shah’ alami Gate. Please accept my regrets and those of the entire English establishment at Lahore.

  RANI: (Urgently.) What’s happened?

  LAWRENCE: (Uncomfortably.) A small detachment of English soldiers was crossing the Gate towards the bazaar, when the officer in command found their way blocked by a couple of cows. Not attuned to Indian sympathies, and being young and impetuous, I’m afraid he cleared the street in the quickest possible way.

  RANI: (Genuinely.) Hai! He killed the cows.

  LAWRENCE: (Apologetically.) I’m afraid so.

  RANI: No!

  LAL SINGH: What sacrilege!

  LAWRENCE: I’m extremely sorry.

  LAL SINGH: He butchered Mother Cow!

  LAWRENCE: It’s most unfortunate.

  RANI: Then what happened?

  LAWRENCE: The citizens of the area reacted as expected and our men were barely able to make it alive to the barracks.

  (Pause.)

  If you wish, the young officer and I will make a public apology to the citizens of Lahore tomorrow morning.

  RANI: (Sharply.) That’s the least you can do.