ACTRESS 1: (Sings.) ‘Mira,’ he said, ‘sing.’
‘I will,’ I said, ‘if you play the flute’
‘Mira,’ he said, ‘sing, sing’
And he set the whole universe humming.
ALL: (Chanting.) They sing my songs; and remember their sons.
ACTRESS 1: I never had a son.
ACTOR 2: It’s the difference between knowing and being good.
ACTOR 1: To know is to know yourself; to be good is to love another.
ACTRESS 1: I love my god.
ACTOR 2: What about the Rana?
ACTRESS 1: What about my pain?
ACTRESS 3: For centuries they have been singing her songs.
ACTRESS 1: A tiger dies and leaves his skin behind;
a man dies and leaves his name behind.
ACTOR 2: It’s been glory. A saint—what more does she want?
ACTRESS 1: And the ones who thought I was barren?
ACTRESS 2: She ruined this fertile land.
ACTRESS 1: Blood flowed in our rivers.
ACTRESS 3: Mother’s milk flowed in our rivers.
ACTRESS 1: This mother is dry.
ACTRESS 2: The land is wasted and poor.
ACTRESS 1: Don’t shoot at a sparrow; you will only spoil a good arrow.
ACTOR 2: What more does she want?
ACTRESS 1: You are only delaying the story. It is the day of my marriage
(The dance of the marriage ceremony.)
2. Isn’t the Bed Small for the Two of Us?
ACTRESS 1: It is the night of my marriage.
ACTOR 1: The Rana and Mira walk in with candles. The Rana places his candle on a holder.
ACTRESS 1: Mira nervous, looks around the room in awe.
ACTRESS 3: The pace of this scene is slow, hesitant; long pauses and embarrassed silences.
ACTRESS 2: The mood is soft and tender, to grasp the undercurrent of desire and the nuances of a situation where physical touch precedes and leads to emotional contact.
ACTOR 1: The Rana picks up a flower from the bed and gives it to her.
ACTRESS 1: Which increases her embarrassment.
ACTOR 1: Then he leads her before the wooden image of Kali, which is chiselled on the door.
ACTOR 1: Bow to Mother!
ACTRESS 1: She hesitates.
ACTOR 1: Bow to her. Kali is our family goddess.
ACTRESS 1: I don’t like her face.
ACTOR 1: What?
ACTRESS 1: Mira is frightened.
ACTOR 1: Don’t be afraid. A cat holds a mouse and her kitten in the same teeth. Only our enemies are afraid of her.
ACTRESS 1: If it will catch mice why not have a squirrel instead of a cat.
ACTOR 1: Kali will give you a son if you worship her.
ACTRESS 1: They say parenthesis it is painful when the son comes out.
ACTOR 1: Rana goes back to bed, and slowly begins to undress. Embarrassed pause.
(Dance of the bed.)
ACTRESS 1: Isn’t the bed small for the two of us?
ACTOR 1: No.
ACTRESS 1: In my father’s home they always gave me a big bed to sleep in. Don’t you have enough beds in the palace?
ACTOR 1: Yes.
ACTRESS 1: Will I have one for myself later on?
ACTOR 1: You are the Rana’s wife.
ACTRESS 1: Yes?
ACTOR 1: Don’t you know what that means?
ACTRESS 1: Oh, yes.
ACTOR 1: What?
ACTRESS 1: Oh yes … yes I do.
ACTOR 1: Women are instructed by nature what men have to learn from books.
ACTRESS 1: A vessel is filled slowly by falling drops of rain.
ACTOR 1: We will make a son for the kingdom.
ACTRESS 1: A son comes to those who have earned him.
ACTOR 1: The son will make war and rule the world.
ACTRESS 1: A son will be born out of love.
ACTOR 1: The Rana is walking about uncomfortably. Now he hesitantly gets into the bed.
ACTRESS 1: Mira looks the other way.
ACTOR 1: The poet says, every month the moon vainly tries to match Mira’s face. Having failed, it destroys its work and begins again.
ACTRESS 1: Even honey falling on a roof of sugar blushes at the Rana’s words.
ACTOR 1: Is Mira going to sleep like this? … I am looking the other way.
… I am going to turn around … Are you going to sleep like this?
ACTRESS 1: I am not sleepy.
ACTOR 1: Come.
ACTRESS 1: The Rana should sleep …. Shall I blow out the candle?
ACTOR 1: Mira will be cold outside.
ACTRESS 1: Is the Rana pleased?
ACTRESS 3: The poet says, ‘You are fortunate, dear friends, that you can tell what happened with your lovers, the jests and laughter, all the words and joys; after my sweetheart put his hand to the knot of my dress, I swear that I remember nothing.’
3. The Rainbird
ACTOR 2: (Sings.) So began Mira’s life in her new home, her husband’s home. Days passed into months and the prince and the princess were happy. Any day of the year they could be found playing in the gardens Catching butterflies, singing with myna birds, resting under the Ashok tree and looking into each others eyes. After some time, the prince tired of this sport; he was reminded of his duties to the state and his people. And Mira had more and more time to herself.
ACTRESS 1: A year later. Mira enters into an empty courtyard.
ACTRESS 3: And discovers Jhali, her faithful servant, waiting for her.
ACTRESS 1: I’m here! Isn’t anybody home? Are you all dead? Oh it’s you?
ACTRESS 3: Who did you expect to find—a guard of honour?
ACTRESS 1: If that’s how I’m welcomed, I might as well go back.
ACTRESS 3: You’ve only been away an afternoon.
ACTRESS 1: I went away for ever.
ACTRESS 3: You were angry.
ACTRESS 1: I was going to die.
ACTRESS 3: So what happened?
ACTRESS 1: I … I got scared.
ACTRESS 3: The doctor’s advice to the lovesick is: first drink the nectar from his lips; then follow it up with his warm hand on your breasts; cap it with a soothing massage of your loins and hips.
ACTRESS 1: Mira is angry with the Rana.
ACTRESS 3: Marriage without quarrel is like food without spice.
ACTRESS 1: Marriage without love is no food at all.
ACTRESS 3: He can’t play with you forever. The Rana must rule the kingdom.
ACTRESS 1: The Rana must also rule the Rani. He
