(Speaking privately, in a hushed tone.)
Oh! I forgot to introduce a rather important character: she plays a significant role in the events that follow, even if it is behind the scenes. She is Sandhya Rani, Queen of the Night—my cat.
But, let’s get on with the story.
(A song from an early 60s film is playing on the radio. Mamu is sitting near the window, with the paper, tapping his foot to the music. Amrita enters with a cup of tea. She stands looking affectionately at Mamu for a while, seeing that he is lost in the music. After a while, Mamu notices her and turns down the volume with a smile.)
MAMU: I … er … practically fell in love with Waheeda Rehman after seeing that picture. She had such beautiful eyes! (Hesitates.)
Ansu’s eyes … er … are a bit like hers, don’t you think? (Amrita frowns. Mamu continues to hum the last bars of the song.)
We saw it at the Rivoli, remember?
(Pause.)
AMRITA: What time is their train coming?
MAMU: (Looking at his watch.) They should be coming any minute now.
(Mamu switches off the radio. Pause.)
Why are they coming?
AMRITA: What do you mean?
MAMU: Well, Chitra always has … um … a reason … Has she ever come just to visit? … er … What does she want this time?
AMRITA: (Dismissing him.) You’re impossible. When did Ansuya go to the station?
MAMU: She must have left … er … an hour ago.
AMRITA: (Worried.) I hope there’s enough milk in the house. Deepak loves his glass of milk at bedtime.
(Coughs.)
I wish you would do something about your cat, Karan. She finished the milk again last night. She sheds hair all over the house.
(Coughs.)
I’m sure she has given me this cough.
MAMU: ‘The trouble with a kitten is that It eventually becomes a cat.’
AMRITA: It is unnatural to be so fond of a cat. If you had married, you would have had a wife to look after, instead of a cat.
MAMU: (Laughing at himself.) I am too old to be married.
AMRITA: (Severely.) Whose fault is it that you did not marry when the best matches were available? After a brilliant college career, and then you got into the ICS … You could have married any girl, but no, the ways of ordinary people were not good enough for you. The sun shines only once in life, Karan.
MAMU: Have I changed a lot since then?
AMRITA: Yes, you have, Karan Chand. You were young and handsome then. Now, you have aged. And you talk all the time, like old people. Of the Partition, of Lahore …
MAMU: These kids will never know what it meant to grow up in Lahore—the poetry, the music, the intellectual discussions … Ah, it was heaven to be young in Lahore!
AMRITA: See what I mean? Karan, you live in the past. And you complain. There’s a bitterness in your voice.
MAMU: Why does Ansuya write so often to Deepak?
AMRITA: Why? What’s wrong with that?
MAMU: Nothing. It’s just that she’s become so secretive.
AMRITA: He is a nice young man, Karan.
MAMU: It could be serious, you know.
AMRITA: Hush, they are just good friends.
MAMU: No.
AMRITA: How do you know?
MAMU: I just know, that’s all.
(Sounds outside. Excited voices. Chitra enters, followed by Ansuya and Deepak. Deepak touches Amrita’s feet. Amrita and Chitra embrace. Mamu’s eyes are fixed on his niece.
Deepak, twenty-seven, squarely built, is full of energy and ambition. He is talented and smooth, but he is also under the excessive influence of his mother. Having had to come up the hard way, he has cultivated the social graces, including a public school way of speaking English (‘What the hell, yaar,’ ‘Give him ten chips, yaar.’) He is one of those persons who will succeed in the eyes of the world. He has already done well for himself, and knows he is good. He has a composed voice, shining eyes and a bright smile. He is self-possessed and good-natured. One of those persons who looks amiably perplexed at an unpleasant situation, as though he can’t understand why anyone should be angry with him.
Chitra, his mother, is slightly younger than Amrita. She is attractive in a fleshy and flashy sort of way. Wears synthetic saris, too low to be tasteful. She is coarse, has no qualms about taking advantage of people and will go to any lengths to make sure her son succeeds in life. She speaks with Punjabi mannerisms (‘Helloji,’ ‘Thank youji’.)
AMRITA: Ah, here they are, here they are.
CHITRA: Didi!
DEEPAK: Happy Diwali, everyone!
CHITRA: Bhai Saheb, Namaste!
AMRITA: (Genuinely happy.) Come here, my son, let me look at you.
How handsome you’ve become! Why, half the girls in Bombay must be after you.
(She puts her arm around him.)
MAMU: And their mothers, too.
(Deepak sneezes.)
CHITRA: Watch it Deepak, you’ll catch a cold in this weather. Banian pai hain na?
DEEPAK: (Glaring at his mother.) Ma …
CHITRA: He’s still my baby.
(Sniffing the air.) I smell a cat.
(Deepak sneezes again).
My God! Deepak has an allergy to cats.
ANSUYA: Mamu’s cat!
CHITRA: There is a cat!
AMRITA: Karan, here, has a cat, instead of a wife.
MAMU: When things go wrong in this house, it’s usual to blame the cat. Er … mind you, my cat has insomnia.
CHITRA: Insomnia?
DEEPAK: It means that it ‘can’t sleep,’ Ma.
CHITRA: I knew cats got sick, but I never knew one which suffered from not being able to sleep … what was that word?
DEEPAK: ‘Insomnia,’ Ma.
CHITRA: Didi, how will Deepak sleep, with a non-sleeping cat in the house?
MAMU: I’ll keep the non-sleeper in my room.
CHITRA: Oh, thank you, Karanji.
AMRITA: We’ll make sure he locks it away for your entire visit.
DEEPAK: (Going
