ANSUYA: (In tears.) Mamu, you’re spoiling everything.
MAMU: I don’t want to embarrass you. I’m fascinated by the methodology of your mind … by the pragmatic calculation which a successful business executive makes in taking a decision about another human being. It’s purely an intellectual interest, mind you, nothing personal … an interest in a certain type of human being, who is rational, self-interested and—what’s the word … optimising.
DEEPAK: (With a puzzled smile.) You don’t seem to like me or the work I do.
MAMU: Deepak, I am fascinated by the business world and how it works.
DEEPAK: Sir, I am proud of what I do and the company I work for. You may think what you like, but I believe we care more about our people than many academics do for their students.
MAMU: Hold on …
DEEPAK: (Continuing.) I mean, we care about our customers, our suppliers, our employees, because for us it is a matter of survival. I can’t remember a single professor of mine at college who cared for me in the same way.
MAMU: Now, hold on …
(Knocking at the door. Ansuya is relieved.)
ANSUYA: There is Rai Saheb.
(Shouting.)
Amma, Rai Saheb is here!
(Ansuya opens the door. Rai Saheb comes in, looking tweedy, distinguished, and the pukka ‘brown sahib.’ Chitra is dressed to kill.)
AMRITA: (Off-stage.) Oh no, is he here already? And I’m not quite ready (Entering with a bowl of flowers.)
Bunty, Happy Diwali!
RAI SAHEB: Happy Diwali!
AMRITA: Just smell these gorgeous October roses! Aren’t they lovely?
RAI SAHEB: Not half as lovely as you, my dear! I’m not early, am I?
AMRITA: No. You know how it gets dark early in Simla these days. Bunty, I want you to meet Chitra, a family friend of ours from Lahore. And this is her son, Deepak.
CHITRA: (Manufacturing her biggest smile.) Namaste, Rai Saheb! Aap ke baare me to bahut suna hai!
RAI SAHEB: Nothing good, I hope!
DEEPAK: (Shaking hands.) Hello, I’m Kapur, sir.
AMRITA: (To Rai Saheb.) Deepak is a fine young man, Bunty, doing famously in a company in Bombay.
RAI SAHEB: Which company?
DEEPAK: TCK, sir.
ANSUYA: Deepak’s from the big city, Bunty Uncle.
RAI SAHEB: Well, we are not exactly villagers.
ANSUYA: Delhi is a village by comparison.
AMRITA: (To Rai Saheb.) Chitra here grew up with me in Lahore; her father was Papa’s legal aide, and they lived in our compound at Lahore.
RAI SAHEB: (To Ansuya.) Ansu, my dear, you are looking positively radiant.
AMRITA: You will have your usual, Bunty? With soda?
RAI SAHEB: A splash of soda, thank you.
MAMU: Scotch for the Brown Sahib.
AMRITA: And for you, Deepak?
DEEPAK: The same, thank you, aunty.
AMRITA: Chitra?
CHITRA: Tea for me, ji.
AMRITA: Karan?
MAMU: Indian whiskey with water will do for me, thank you. I’ll get the drinks. (He gets up to make the drinks.)
AMRITA: (Frowning at Mamu.) You know my brother. He must be different.
ANSUYA: I’ll get the tea, Amma.
(Exit.)
AMRITA: (Graciously changing the subject.) It has been an unusually damp October, especially after such a lovely summer.
RAI SAHEB: (Winking naughtily.) Do you know, I caught Bubbles at it last Friday? Imagine, Bubbles Chopra, wearing chappals on the Mall! Poor man, he was mortified when he saw me, and tried to sneak away. I went up to him and I said, ‘Could I buy you a pair of shoes, old man?’
(And he roars with laughter. Deepak and then Chitra join in.)
MAMU: (Mimicking him.) ‘I say, old chap, what is wrong with chappals?’
(Amrita frowns at him.)
RAI SAHEB: Nothing … in your bedroom.
(Continues to laugh.)
MAMU: The whole country wears chappals, Rai Saheb.
(Ansuya enters with a tray of tea. Deepak begins to sneeze.)
ANSUYA: Mamu’s cat!
CHITRA: The cat will be the death of this boy.
AMRITA: Poor Deepak! Karan, you and your cat. Lock it up!
MAMU: What can I do if she sneaks out? She watches Deepak like a mouse.
RAI SAHEB: (Laughing.) Ha! Ha! Like a mouse. If we cross Karan and his cat, it would improve Karan, but it would deteriorate the cat. Ho, ho, ho!
AMRITA: Really, Bunty!
(To Deepak.)
Are you better, son? You know this boy, Bunty, he is doing brilliantly in Bombay.
CHITRA: (Interrupting.) Rai Saheb, this boy never opened a book in his life and he always came first.
DEEPAK: (Embarrassed.) Ma, please!
CHITRA: (Not to be stopped.) Rai Saheb, jab yeh chhota sa tha, tab se bahut seedha tha. Hamesha apna doodh peeta tha, school se seedha ghar laut aata tha, not like other boys. He always combed his hair …
DEEPAK: Ma!
CHITRA: Listen to him, ji. After all I do for him. You know, he likes rice. So on Sundays, I make him Basmati rice, which costs five rupees a kilo, while I eat the one rupee, char anna variety from the ration shop. And this is my reward, ji.
DEEPAK: (Almost screaming.) Ma!
(To Rai Saheb.)
I am sorry, sir.
MAMU: Deepak and his Ma!
ANSUYA: (Giving Mamu a dirty look.) Mamu!
RAI SAHEB: (Patronizingly.) Hmm. What school did you go to, young man?
DEEPAK: (Charmingly.) I went to St. Mary’s in Bombay, sir.
MAMU: You don’t have to say ‘sir’ all the time. This isn’t an office, you know.
AMRITA: (Rescuing Deepak.) He’s just a well-brought-up boy. He respects his elders.
MAMU: Why don’t you say ‘sir’ with a question mark at the end? Like this: ‘Sir?’ Interesting, isn’t it? ‘Sir?’ … leaves a doubt in the mind.
AMRITA: Stop it, Karan Chand.
DEEPAK: Well, ah …
RAI SAHEB: (Patronizingly.) What does your father do?
(Uneasy pause.)
DEEPAK: (Defensively.) Oh, he is a businessman.
RAI SAHEB: And what is his business?
CHITRA: (After a brief pause.) Buying and selling, ji.
RAI SAHEB: Buying and selling what?
(Another uncomfortable pause.)
DEEPAK: (Crestfallen.) He runs a general store.
RAI SAHEB: (Contemptuously.) Oh, a shopkeeper. Where is his shop?
CHITRA: Deepak lives on Malabar Hill with the gentry.
RAI SAHEB: Yes, I see, but where is the shop?
DEEPAK: (Quietly.) At Ghatkopar, sir.
CHITRA: But we live in Deepak’s big flat on Malabar Hill.
RAI SAHEB: (Suddenly beaming at Chitra.) On Malabar Hill?
