Laal Pencil
(written by- Manav kaul, Translated by- Vanya Singh)
Notes
- Bapu is the popular national nickname for Gandhi.
- Bhoomika translates to a ‘role’
- Drupad is a type of classical Hindustani music
- Prasad is a sacred offering of food.
- Beta is a term of endearment for children
Scene 1
All the children are lying on the stage like they are embryos. Following a beat and in sync, they all start moving slowly, as if awakening to a heartbeat. After some time, everyone slowly gets up one by one. They look around at all the pens and sheets of paper that are strewn all over the stage. They take one of each, and return to their places to start writing.
Everyone looks straight ahead and sits up straight.
After a beat, everyone starts memorising a lesson. All that can be perceived of this is a sound, a rhythm and some gestures. One of the children is Nandu, who is doing everything wrong. He tries really hard to get it right and be in sync with the others, but the harder he tries the worse he gets. A teacher called Drupad notices him, and goes over to him. He tries to explain something to Nandu and tries to correct him, but Nandu is unable to.
Neetu, another student, goes over to Drupad.
Neetu: Sir, he’s doing it all wrong.
(Neetu hands over her notebook to Drupad and shows him how she solved the problem. Drupad gives her notebook to Nandu, but he still doesn’t understand. Drupad sends him back to his place. Drupad steps out for a moment to spit his paan, and while he’s gone all the kids slap Nandu once. Drupad re-enters.
Drupad: So who all will participate in the poetry competition this time?
(Everyone freezes except Pinki)
Pinki: I’m part of this class, but not really. If I walk out right now and don’t come back, nobody will even notice. The only person who knows my name in this place is the janitor. If someone needs to call me they yell ‘oi’ even though my name isn’t ‘oi’ it’s Pinki. I want to write a poem. I don’t know how, but I need to write the best poem ever written.
(Everyone unfreezes, and Drupad continues.)
Drupad: You will all compete against each other first. Whoever writes the best poem will compete at the school level, and whoever wins that gets to participate in the inter-school competition. Forget about it after that- even I was ranked 40th in that competition and nobody from this school has beat me yet. So who wants to try? I’ll take the names now.
(Everyone except Pinki raises their hands.)
Drupad: Oi, what’s your name?
Pinki: Pinki…
Drupad: Pinki, don’t you want to write a poem?
Pinki: I don’t know how to.
Drupad: You wrote one last time.
Pinki: My dad wrote that.
Drupad: And now?
Pinki: Well-
(Pinki looks up at a silhouette at her parents fighting.)
Dad: Did you just say that again?
Mom: That is not what I said.
Dad: So what are you saying?
Mom: You know that’s not what I meant.
Dad: Here we go again.
Mom: You’re repeating the same old thing!
Dad: No I’m not.
Mom: See! This again!
Dad: What again?
Mom: This!
Dad: Why are you saying the same thing again and again?
Mom: You’re the one repeating yourself!
Dad: See this is what I mean- you were just talking about this and now you’re talking about it again.
Mom: When was I talking about it?
Dad: Oh wow, are you actually claiming you’ve never brought this up before?
Mom: This is what I don’t like about you.
Dad: Arrey! When did I say that?
Mom: See? You’re doing it again!
Dad: Did you or did you not just say “see? You’re doing it again”?
Mom: I did.
Dad: So that’s exactly what I’m saying! You keep saying the same thing!
Mom: You keep saying the same thing over and over again.
Dad: You just agreed that you were repeating yourself!
Mom: Alright fine. Why don’t you finish saying whatever you were saying.
Dad: This is what I’ve been saying since the beginning.
Mom: What do you mean this is what you were saying, you kept bringing that up.
Dad: Yeah, yeah that’s what I meant.
Mom: You were talking about that before this.
Dad: I’ve been saying this for ages.
Mom: That’s what I’m saying, you’ve been saying the same thing for ages.
Dad: So why did you even start this conversation?
Mom: Arrey, that's not what I was trying to say.
Dad: So what were you trying to say?
Mom: Not this.
Dad: (makes a noise of frustration) this, that, this, that! I’m sick of this!
Mom: No! That and this and this and that! I’m sick of it!
Dad: Uff
Mom: Uff
(Dad picks up his bag and leaves. Pinki is watching silently. The light switches back to the classroom.)
Roma: Sir, her dad abandoned her.
Pinki: No, he will come back.
Drupad. Whatever. Everyone has to write a poem. I’m making it compulsory, ok?
Roma: Sir I brought a poem with me, can I submit it now?
Drupad: Not now, I will collect them tomorrow.
(Pratyush is a boy who looks like a poet)
Pratyush: Yes sir, I’m ready.
Drupad: Write well, ok? If you have a problem you can always come to me for help.
Pratyush: Sir, there’s one problem-
Drupad: Later. The given topic for the poems is ‘books’...
(All the kids repeat the word ‘books’. Drupad leaves. The janitor enters and rings the bell. Everyone forms a line and sits down. Pinki is left alone in the classroom. She sneaks a look at Roma’s notebook and reads her poem. She picks it up and rips it up. Suddenly she hears a noise, and turns around. She sees a red pencil, which has just dropped from the ceiling. She picks it up and admires it; it’s a beautiful pencil. She looks around furtively- there is nobody in the room but her.)
Pinki: Who’s there? Who’s there? Did someone drop a pencil?
(Nobody answers and she pockets the pencil.)
Scene 2
(All the children are sitting in a line at the back. They are trying to write their poems, and some of them keep muttering cliche lines like “books are a mirror of the soul” and “books are life” etc etc. They get more and more frustrated, and none of them can write the poem. As the frustration builds, all of them let out a scream, and bury their faces in their hands. Pinki also screams, and her scene with her mom starts.)
Pinki: Aaah!
Mom: Pinki? What happened? What are you doing?
Pinki: I’m writing a poem.
Mom: What? Why are you writing a poem? Are you feeling alright? (checks her temperature) You’re burning up! What on earth are you writing a poem for?
Pinki: It’s compulsory, everyone has to write one.
Mom: Oh! Well fine, if it’s compulsory it’s ok. Just write something, don’t spend too much time thinking about it.
Pinki: Just write something.
Mom: Yeah you know what I mean. It’s a poem, it doesn’t even have to be long. Oh alright, look, I’ll stay with you. Just start writing anything.
Pinki: What do you mean ‘write anything’? At least give me something to start with.
Mom: Are you mad? How can I tell you what to write?
Pinki: I called dad, but he didn't pick up his phone.
Mom: Why did you call him? Huh? Why did you call him? You know what- you want me to tell you what to write? Listen. Are you paying attention?
Pinki: Yes.
Mom: Ok, good, listen. Just write something first, whatever you want. Then take a look at what you’ve written, and then write about that. And keep doing that, over and over again. When the writing stops, you’ll know the poem has been written. And then go and read that poem out to someone. Not me…someone else. Once you’ve done that, you’ve written and performed your poem! See? It’s easy!
Pinki: Sure ma, it’s very ‘easy.’
Mom: Come on now, start writing. Uff!
(Mom has a building headache, and she leaves. Pinki sits down to write and she suddenly spots the red pencil. She picks it up, and starts writing. Suddenly, the pencil moves on its own to give her arm three jerks, and she starts writing as if it is the pencil writing through her, not the other way around. Pinki tries to stop her hand moving, but she can’t. Suddenly the pencil tugs and forces her to stand up, and then spins her around, Pinki stumbles and falls. This routine of sitting up and writing, then spinning and falling continues until eventually Pinki faints and the pencil in her hand keeps writing slowly.)
(All the kids lined up have finished writing their poems, and they are coming up one by one to read them out, and the ones listening make noises of appreciation.)
“Wow’
“Way to go!”
“Good job!”
“That was amazing!”
“Very, very good”
“That was so deep”
(Black out)
Scene 3
All the children are sitting as if dreaming.
Bhoomika: If everything is loud for a long enough time, you stop hearing the noise. When it’s very loud, we all become completely, really silent. That’s when we start dreaming. Small dreams, everyday dreams. Everyone is dreaming right now, including me. I can tell what they’re dreaming about. Not everyone of course, but some. Like Pihu. Pihu lives like she’s convinced there are several cameras filming her at all times. Like her every moment of her is being telecast live at The Globe theatre. She thinks a man has been making a film on her life since the moment she was born, and somewhere, hundreds of people have been watching that film since it started.
(We see the shadow of a man- he is the director, and is announcing the film.)
Director: Ladies and gentlemen! It’s an honour to present this film to you. A film that I believe is going to change the face of cinema. A film that is going to redefine the word ‘cult.’ Yes- ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the film ‘Pihu’!
(Everyone claps. Pihu gestures that she needs to go pee, but perhaps the sign for that has changed. She is surprised by what’s happening. All the other children clap without making a sound.)
Bhoomika: She thinks she’s a famous actress in London, but really, in this class, she’s just ‘Pihu’. This is Sonu. Whenevers he sees a black ant anywhere, she puts it in her mouth. She thinks she’s crawling on this earth exactly in the way the ant crawls around inside her mouth.
(The ant bites the inside of Sonu’s mouth, and she takes it out.)
Sonu: When do I ever bite this world? When I walk around, I just walk. I don’t even run, never been involved in train accidents or bomb blasts. Times like that are when we bite the world and the world bites us.
(Sonu kills the ant.)
Bhoomika: This is Neetu. She thinks one of these days she will die suddenly, and that’s when people will realise her value. Boys who are in love will weep over her tragedy.
Boys: Neetu, I never got the chance to tell you…I- I love you Neetu.
Bhoomika: And all her enemies will be sorry for never having apologised.
Enemy 1: Go on, apologise!
Enemy 2: She’s dead! How does it matter anymore?
Enemy 1: Come on, just say it.
Enemy 2: For you…
Both together: Listen, I’m sorry.
Bhoomika: Teachers will call her a great student.
Teacher: Neetu really was one in a million. I haven’t met a student like her in all my years of teaching. I used to know her family, such an amazing family. Poor girl!
Bhoomika: Her death will be declared a national holiday. The president and prime minister will issue statements of their grief. They will arrange a solemn ceremony in her honour that the whole nation will watch.
Minister: Neetu was the future of this country, she was our pride and our brightest flame.
Bhoomika: And then one day, she will return. All her friends will be too overwhelmed to speak, and she will say-
Neetu: Shh, I’m here now. It’s alright.
(Strikes a pose which makes her look like a saint blessing the people. Roma gets up.)
Roma: What was all that?
Bhoomika: This is Roma. She thinks she will be possessed by the spirit of Bruce Lee one day.
(Roma shouts like Bruce Lee and takes up a karate stance.)
Bhoomika: And that will be the day she exacts her revenge. From the people who stole her pencil, the people who stole her boyfriend, the people who ratted her out to the teachers. She wants revenge from pretty much everyone.
Bhoomika: And this is Pinki. She wants to be friends with Bapu because she doesn’t have any real friends.
Pinki: Sorry I’m late again Bapu!
Bhoomika: This is Pratyush. All the bad poets performing their terrible poetry everywhere has changed his style a little.
Pratyush: All of you, shut up and listen to this poem!
(Everyone protests- they don’t want to listen. He gestures at Dolly.)
Dolly: Oi, listen to the poem you little shit, if you know what’s good for you!
Neetu: Yes, listen or you won’t like what’s coming!
Pratyush: “Said the flower to the scent…”
(Everyone immediately yells ‘wow!’ and ‘amazing!’ Pratyush is upset.)
Pratyush: I haven’t started yet!
(Everyone goes and stands in their place.)
Scene 4
(Drupad walks briskly into the classroom, and gestures for everyone to sit.)
Drupad: This poem is the best from this class, but it doesn’t have a name. Who wrote it?
Dolly: Sir, Pratyush.
Drupad: Did you write your poem in pencil?
Pratyush: No sir, I wrote it with a pen, just like you told us to.
(Drupad asks everyone one by one. Pinki raises her hand, but nobody notices. Drupad yells. Everyone bows their heads. Drupad spots Pinki.)
Drupad: Yes, what is it? Do you need the washroom again? Go, and come back fast. So, who’s going to tell me- who wrote the poem?
Pinki: Sir, I wrote it.
Drupad: Really? You’re saying you wrote this entire poem on your own?
Roma: She’s lying sir.
Drupad: I know. Alright then, recite it for me. If you make a single mistake, we’ll see why it’s a bad idea to lie to me. Come on, I’m waiting.
Pinki: (Recites poem)
I want to bury these books
I want to hide these books
They look short, tiny, and thin
But they’re heavy with what they contain.
I’m waiting on a miracle,
I dream of a spectacle
That it rains on these pages
That the water washes away the story
In all of its stages
I’ll bottle up every last drop,
Keep an everlasting stock
I’ll swim in those waters
And take a sip when my voice falters.
(Drupad and all her classmates are staring at her with complete surprise.)
Roma: Pinki, will you be my friend?
(Everyone wants to be friends with her. Pratyush is upset, and starts reciting his own poem, even though nobody wants to listen.)
Pratyush: Books are all around us,
And yet we stand alone.
But if you take a look at life,
A book you will find-
Pratyush: Shhh! Shut up! Not another word from you!
(Pratyush shuts up)
Dolly: Ah nevermind. It was just a bit too loud this time.
Drupad: Pinki, have you really written this poem? You, not your mother?
Pinki: My mother doesn’t even know about it.
Drupad: And you aren’t lying to me?
Roma: Sir!
Drupad: It’s a beautiful poem. There’s a submission for another competition tomorrow, I want you to write another one. The topic this time is ‘family.’
Pratyush: There once was a family,
There was pain
And there was hunger
There once was a family…
(Pratyush sees Drupad glaring at him and stops talking.)
Dolly: (To Pratyush) Now you made it too soft.
Drupad: Pinki, you write. ‘Family’, remember.
(Drupad starts walking towards the exit.)
Roma: Sir, are you crying?
(Drupad is unable to answer, and leaves.)
Pinki: (To Roma) Will you really be my friend?
(Roma and a lot of the others say yes. Pratyush and his gang try to threaten her new friends, but there are too many of them, and they don’t succeed in intimidating them. Pratyush starts getting desperate; he is losing. The bell rings and everyone leaves, and Pinki is the last one in the room.)
Pinki: Bapu! Hahahaha, can you believe it? They all want to be friends with me! All of them! It’s a miracle Babu, it really is. This is all I’ve ever wanted! Thank you, that red pencil really was the perfect gift. I know this is all technically a lie, but don’t worry, I won’t write any more. I got what I wanted. I’ll give the pencil to the janitor, and I’ll tell ma the truth. I promise!
(Pratyush enters)
Pratyush: Oi Pinki, will you tell me the truth?
(Pinki is scared.)
Pratyush: Who were you talking to just now?
Pinki: I was talking to Bapu.
Pratyush: Hahaha! To Bapu? You know he’s not actually here right? That’s just a photo. He died years ago. Haven’t you read any history?
Pinki: I have.
Pratyush: Listen, I’m your best friend, aren’t I?
Pinki: That’s what you said last time, and then you complained about me to sir. Do you know how badly he beat me for that?
Pratyush: Oh come on, that was years ago. I didn’t know what ‘best friend’ meant then. Now I do. Best friends keep secrets.
Pinki: You’re my best friend? You really mean it?
Pratyush: Of course, idiot! Why would I lie?
Pinki: Fine, then have lunch with me.
Pratyush: Oh no, I can’t do that.
Pinki: Why not?
Pratyush: Oh ok, I’ll come. But on one condition. Tell me who wrote that poem.
(Pinki gets scared)
Pinki: I did.
Pratyush: Tell me who wrote that poem.
Pinki: I wrote it.
(Pinki runs away, scared.)
Pratyush: Wait, Pinki! Come on, is that how you treat your best friend! Idiot. What do you say Bapu, she didn’t write that poem, did she? She’s lying right?
(Everyone yells ‘oi’! Pratyush gets scared and a startled ‘Bapu!’ escapes him.)
(Black out.)
Scene 5
(The janitor enters and calls Pinki. She comes over to him, skipping.)
Janitor: Pinki, come here! Look at that, someone’s happy today!
Pinki: Today was a magical day uncle. Everything has changed!
Janitor: Oh? What happened?
Pinki: The whole class knows my name. I made so many friends! I’m famous in the class now.
Janitor: How did all that happen?
Pinki: Well there was this red pencil…no, no! I wrote a poem, and it was the best in the class.
Janitor: I didn’t know you wrote poetry.
Pinki: Sometimes it’s nice to put down your thoughts…but leave all that.
Janitor: Come on! You must be very good if it was the best in the class. You should write more.
Pinki: No, no. I found this pencil lying around, please throw it away.
Janitor: Ok.
(Janitor takes the pencil and starts to go. Pinki stops him.)
Pinki: Uncle, wait.
(She takes the pencil back, and stares at it for a long moment. Then she hands it back to him.)
Pinki: Here, take it and throw it somewhere far. Really far, ok?
Janitor: Alright, I’ll throw it.
(He tries to leave again, and Pinki stops him again.)
Janitor: Relax, I said I’ll throw it! But at least let me listen to this famous poem of yours!
Pinki: Oh no, not right now. Maybe sometime. I’m too happy right now hahaha….
(Pinki leaves. The janitor stares at the red pencil for some time.)
(Black out)
Scene 6
(Mom is praying, doing a puja in Pinki’s room. Pinki enters)
Pinki: Ma! What are you doing?
Mom: This is the room I taught you how to write poetry in.
Pinki: How do you know about that?
Mom: I know everything. You just sit here, sit down! Close your eyes, clasp your hands. Dear god! How many complicated words! Who knows how much it took from her! What a beautiful poem my daughter has written!
Pinki: Ma, I have to tell you something. I didn’t write that poem.
Mom: Dear god! Look at her, saying what every true poet says. That they didn’t write the poem, it just got written.
Pinki: No that’s not what I’m trying to say.
Mom: I don’t need god to know the truth. Do you really think I don’t recognise your handwriting?
Pinki: That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you! I wrote the poem but I didn’t write it.
Mom: Arrey, your English teacher came to congratulate me.
Pinki: Who, Drupad sir?
Mom: Yes, he was very happy. He showed me the poem, in your handwriting. I couldn’t believe my eyes!
Pinki: But ma, really-
Mom: Come here, take some prasad.
Pinki: Ma, listen to me, I have a problem. I need to write another poem.
Mom: What? Really? Wait let me get you some warm milk.
Pinki: Will you please just listen to me, I don’t know how to write a poem.
(Mom doesn’t listen, she exits.)
Pinki: Oh god, how do I even start? Uhhh…silly, chilli, billy, family.
(From behind her we see Mom, Pratyush, Drupad, Dolly and Neetu, all wearing masks walk towards her slowly.)
Pratyush: So the great Pinki ji is preparing to write a poem.
Dolly: What an opportunity for us to learn from the great Pinki herself.
Neetu: Shh let her focus.
Drupad: All of you shut up. Pinki beta, don’t listen to them. You just write. You’re destined for greatness, you know? I've never written a poem like that.
Pratyush: You did write the first one didn’t you?
Dolly: Wait wait, watch, she’ll do it again.
Neetu: A poet is trying to write and we are all just staring at her.
Mom: Pinki beta I taught you how to write poems. Remember?
Drupad: The principal is so happy with you!
Pratyush: Got anything yet?
Dolly: She’s writing! She’s writing.
Drupad: Shut up! Let her write.
Mom: Look at my little girl, doesn’t she look like a poet?
Neetu: Are you done?
Dolly: Oh finally, I think she wrote something.
Pratyush: Read it out.
Dolly: Read it out.
Neetu: Read it out.
Mom: Read it out.
Drupad: Come on Pinki, read us your masterpiece.
(Pinki starts reading.)
Pinki: Once there was a family. It was a bit silly. The dad hated chilli.
(Everyone starts laughing.)
Pratyush: Are you reading from the newspaper?
Neetu: She can’t write!
(Drupad picks up the red pencil, which has grown larger, as if Pinki’s lie has grown.)
Drupad: What’s this Pinki?
Pinki: The red pencil, but I gave that to the janitor! And he promised he would throw it far away. So what’s it doing here? And why is it bigger?
(Pinki turns around)
Mom: Take it, take it and write.
Dolly: Yes, yes take it or you won’t be able to write.
Pinki: I don't want to use this red pencil.
Mom: Then how will you write the poem?
Pinki: I won’t write the poem.
Dolly: Then all your friends will become your enemies. And everyone will forget your name.
Pinki: I’m scared of the red pencil.
Mom: Every time this pencil writes a poem…
Dolly: It will grow bigger.
Mom: It’s your friend.
Dolly: Your true friend.
Everyone: Take it.
(Drupad keeps throwing the pencil in the air and catching it, and then Pratyush and Dolly start passing it around. In the end, Pinki screams and falls on her bed, hiding her face.)
(Black out.)
Scene 7
The kids get up one by one on separate counts. They stand up looking as if either the teacher has told them to stand up or they have to ask him a question. They look like puppets. Suddenly, they realise that they are puppets. Both of their arms are raised in an involuntary movement. They stare at the invisible threads attached to their hands, and try to touch it. In one motion, everyone raises their hands and breaks free of the threads, and falls to the floor. After a beat, they get up, and laugh, revelling in their new found freedom. Before long, they start bumping into each other, and realise that they are not alone. This realisation scares them- they spread their arms open and move towards each other, till eventually they are so close that they are literally stuck together. It becomes difficult to breathe, and with a shout they all separate and become puppets again. They start the same process again, of getting up as if pulled by strings. Drupad enters the classroom, everyone continues to get up and sit down on their own counts.
Drupad: Pinki, did you get the poem? The principal is asking for it.
Pinki: No sir. I didn’t write a poem yesterday.
Drupad: What? You didn’t write it? Today is the deadline for submission!
(Pinki doesn’t say anything, Drupad keeps asking questions.)
Drupad: Oh stop this nonsense. No class today, everyone get out! Out now!
(Drupad sends everyone else out, and asks Pinki to stay.)
Nandu: But sir it’s P.T class!
Roma: Exactly sir, we only get one P.T class a week as it is.
Drupad: Aren’t you ashamed of yourselves? Did Nirala and Shakespeare do P.T? Of course not! They were poets! A poet is trying to write something here, and you idiots want her to go stretch? Don’t worry Pinki beta, you’re fine, I’m just trying to knock sense into the rest of your class. (turns back to the other kids) I’ve never done P.T in my life! (some of the kids snicker) Who’s laughing? You should be ashamed of yourself! I may not have made it as a poet but I have a poet’s heart…didn’t anyone teach you to be sensitive? Get out all of you! Out now!
(everyone leaves)
Drupad: Why didn’t you write the poem? It has to be submitted today, you know that. The principal is so happy with me- I mean with you. You absolutely have to write it by today ok? I’ll go outside and make sure nobody comes in to disturb you.
Pinki: But sir, I don’t know how to write poems. I really can’t do it.
Drupad: If it was easy would I have been ranked the 35th best poet in the biggest competition? You just have to get down to it. Don’t stress, sit here and focus ok? I’ll be outside- call for me as soon as you’re done.
(Drupad leaves. Pinki is sitting alone, desperately trying to write a poem. The red pencil rolls onto stage towards her. She picks it up and tries to write- the same sequence repeats- the pencil flings her around, until she passes out from exhaustion. After a beat Roma enters and whispers “Pinki?” and sits down next to her. Sonu. Pihu and Bhumika enter and all sit around Pinki.)
Pratyush: And here we go again- the beginning of another dream.
Nandu: Whose dream?
Dolly: Ugh Pratyush I told you to not take him on our team.
Nandu: Wait no, I got it. Pinki’s dream right?
Pratyush: Yes. And in Pinki’s dream…
Nandu: Bapu appeared right?
Dolly: Oh for God’s sake, what a moron-
Neetu: (Patiently) No, it wasn’t bapu. An old man appeared who looked exactly like Bapu. Do you understand?
Pratyush: Why don’t all of you just tell the story.
Dolly: Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.
Pratyush: So bapu is sitting by the river.
Dolly: Damn, you’re a poet, man. Can I add to it? Suddenly, he saw a boat, a bright red boat.
Neetu: My turn, my turn! On the boat there’s a girl lying unconscious.
Nandu: No way! That’s Pinki! Is she sleeping?
Dolly: Oh my god! It is Pinki, the girl with the red boat.
Nandu: Right! If that’s Pinki in the red boat, then I’m sitting on the shore of the river.
(Nandu sits up, leaning forward)
Everyone: You?!
(Roma suddenly starts calling Nandu Bapu, and he look at her in shock and surprise)
Roma: Bapu.
Nandu: Who, me?
Roma: Bapu.
Nandu: Yes child, what bothers you?
(Nandu can’t help it, he starts laughing. Behind him, Dolly, Neetu and Pratyush also crack up)
Roma: Bapu, all of this is the wrong way around.
Nandu: Looks alright to me.
(Nandu giggles again, but by now he has assumed Bapu’s classic pose.)
Sonu: Bapu! Bapu!
Nandu: What is it?
(Nandu becomes Bapu)
Sonu: Bapu, nothing makes sense. I’m so stressed. Drupad is waiting outside for a poem. And whatever I do I can’t get rid of this damn pencil.
Nandu: Haven’t you already written the poem?
Pihu: Everyone wants me to write, Bapu. I’m sorry! I’m sorry I broke my promise, I really didn’t want to.
Nandu: Everything happened exactly the way you wanted it to.
Bhumika: I’ll change everything.
Nandu: Go ahead.
Roma: I’ll destroy this pencil. Burn it and bury the ashes somewhere far away.
Nandu: You already seem to know what to do.
Sonu: I…I should do that right Bapu?
Nandu: Do what feels right.
Pihu: This is the right thing. I’ll do it.
(A shadow of Gandhi emerges behind the scene, and Dolly, Pratyush and Neetu panic and rush closer to Nandu. Dolly slaps Nandu across the face.)
Dolly: Oy, Nandu! What the hell were you doing?
Pratyush: You scared us man!
Neetu: This is Pinki’s dream dude. Stop taking it so seriously.
(Nandu doesn’t understand what just happened to him. We hear Drupad from outside the room, and Pinki jerks awake, and the dream dissolves. Everyone returns to their places.)
Drupad: Pinki beta, are you done? Did you write the poem? Can I come in?
(Pinki sits up suddenly. We see her make a decision. She picks up the pencil, leaves the poem on the desk and walks out. Drupad enters.)
Drupad: Now that’s the mark of a real poet. Wrote a masterpiece and walked out. And what a poem! Wah!
Kids: Sir, are you crying?
Drupad: Who is it?
(Drupad continues to cry and read the poem)
(Black out)
Scene 8
Dolly: Pratyush, I really love your poems man. I mean I don’t understand most of what you’re saying, but they touch you, know what I mean?
Neetu: Arrey, who understands what Nirala is trying to say. Is he a famous poet or not?
Dolly: Nirala, Bhawani Prasad Mishra, Muktibodh, and then our Pratyush. You’re a real poet, P.
Pratyush: Come on guys, let it go.
Neetu: Nobody is letting it go. What does she even know about poetry? You can’t scribble two poems and become an expert. No, there’s something fishy going on here.
(Three girls enter. They are all playing Pinki’s role.)
Dolly: Seriously, there’s no way she’s writing those poems herself.
Pratyush: She’s getting someone to write for her, I’m telling you.
(All three Pinki’s ask the three friends individually. Then each of them converse with their own Pinki.)
Pinki 1: What did you say? (To Pratyush)
Pinki 2: What did you say? (To Dolly)
Pinki 3: What did you say? (To Neetu)
Pratyush: Let’s finish this debate today. So, Pinki, who writes your poems?
Neetu: Yes, o great poetess, we are all dying to know.
Dolly: Honestly, everyone is ‘poet’ these days, aren’t they? You’ve been writing a lot, haven;t you Pinki?
(Nandu, sitting in the centre, suddenly holds up the red pencil.)
Nandu: Guys, Who’s red pencil is this?
(All three Pinkis scream and scatter to different parts of the stage. The scream startles Dolly, Pratyush and Neetu and they too hide in different parts of the stage.)
Nandu: What happened?
Dolly: Shut up.
(Bhoomika and Roma suddenly get up. The want to know what happened, who screamed)
Pinki 1: This pencil isn’t going to leave me alone, is it.
Pinki 2: It isn’t letting go.
Beat.
Roma: Oh shit, what happened??
Bhoomika: I have no idea. Oi Chotu, Chotu…
Nandu: My name is not Chotu.
Roma: Come on man, just tell us what happened.
Nandu: I really don’t know.
Pinki 1: How did the red pencil get here?
Pinki 2: Weren’t you going to burn it?
Pinki 3: I did!
Roma: Then?
Pinki 3: It didn’t burn.
Pinki 2: Yeah, I tried everything.
Roma: What happened then?
Bhoomika: Yes, what happened then?
Pinki 2: I tried to break it into tiny pieces.
Pinki 3: It didn’t break.
Roma: So what happened next?
Bhoomika: So what happened next?
Pinki 1: I buried it.
Pinki 2: In a really deep pit.
Pinki 3: I dug as deep as I could.
Pinki: How did you get the pencil?
Nandu: How do I know? I just found it lying around.
(Nandu slams the pencil down in front of him)
Dolly: Pratyush! Pratyush!
Pratyush: Shhh. It’s chaos out there right now, stay hidden.
Dolly: I was just saying, why not grab the red pencil?
Pratyush: Good idea! Do me a favour, go get it here.
Dolly: No, no, I’m not touching it. Neetu, you go.
Neetu: Not a chance.
Pratyush: Cowards, both of you.
Dolly: Why don’t you go get it yourself then?
Neetu: Yes, why don’t you.
(Pratyush, Neetu and Dolly all go together to get the pencil. As soon as they approach it, Nandu screams, and they all scuttle back, frightened.)
Nandu: Aaaaaaaa...it moved! I swear it moved!
(Nandu runs back to hide)
Pratyush: This is dangerous guys. Let’s get out of here. And we’ll sort you out later Pinki, you hear me?
Dolly: Yes, we’ll see you later
Neetu: Yes, we’ll see you later.
(The three of them leave. Roma and Bhoomika cautiously approach the pencil. As soon as they get near, they see it move on the floor. Both scream and run back)
Bhoomika: It moved, it moved!
Roma: Yeah I saw! It moved!
(Only the the three Pinkis are left on stage, and the red pencil centrestage, which has grown quite large by now. The three Pinkis get up slowly, in unison. Pinki moves towards the pencil, and the pencil starts moving her around in a dance. The two Pinkis behind also start dancing jerkily to the force of invisible pencils)
(Black out)
Scene 9
(A shadow of a huge pencil looms on the screen behind, and around it Pinki in various poses of fear. The pencil starts speaking.)
Red Pencil: Hello Pinki! How are you? Are you having fun?
(We hear Pinki scream)
Red Pencil: Don’t be afraid, Pinki. I am your deepest desire! Your dream, your wish! Look, I’m growing with you. Growing so big! You can’t get rid of me that easily. This is just the beginning, darling. Just you watch- how you will dance, how I will make you dance!
(The Red Pencil suddenly starts to move towards Pinki, and the shadow vanishes in terror. On stage, the three Pinkis faint.)
(Black out)
Scene 10
(Dowstage- on one side, there is a single shoe hanging, suspended from the ceiling. Throughout the play all the kids are wearing only one shoe. All the kids are lying back. They raise their hands in unison and notice the shoe.)
Sonu: What game is this?
Nandu: Who made the rules?
Bhoomika: Are we all playing for some man somewhere?
Pihu: Who is constantly winning.
Neetu: What does he do after winning?
Roma: And why does he want to look like us?
Pratyush: If we have to get through life wearing one shoe, why do we dream of the other shoe?
Dolly: Do we have to play?
Everyone: Yes.
(Everyone starts crawling towards the shoe, pulling each other back to get in front. It is important that the struggle and effort to win clearly comes across. Whoever gets to the shoe and touches it first wins. He takes the shoe from where it was hanging. Everyone else watches quietly. Suddenly everything starts happening in slow-motion. The person who won is celebrating, moving from one end of the stage to the other. Everyone else falls to the ground and starts crying. All of this happens extremely slowly. They curse the foot which doesn’t have a shoe. They curse themselves, God, the person who won. The person who won reaches one edge of the stage and takes out a hidden bag full of one-sided shoes. They put the shoe they just won into the bag. Everyone else keeps looking at their unclad foot, and then at the bag which has an abundance of shoes. Drupad enters. Everyone takes their place.)
Drupad: I’m sure you will be delighted to know that Pinki, from my class, has just ranked number one in the entire school. Come in Pinki, come in.
(There is a medal hanging from Pinki’s neck and the big red pencil jammed in her back pocket. She is walking bent over, like an old woman.)
Drupad: Come on everyone, stand up!
(All the other kids get up and clap. Pinki tries to go back to her seat in the back row, but Drupad asks her to sit in the front row.)
Drupad: Arrey where are you going Pinki? This is your place now. (To Pratyush) You get up, go to the back. Come, Pinki, sit, sit. Now the next challenge is the inter school competition. That will be tough. There’s a very senior poet, Dr. Ramesh, who’s coming to judge. Back in my day, I came 30th in that competition.
Nandu: Sir, last time you said you came 40th?
Drupad: Quiet! So as I was saying, I came 28th in this competition myself. The brightest students from every school in the city participate. You get the subject there, so there is no time to prepare. Pinki, I know you can win it. After reading this poem, I am confident you can win any competition you set your mind to. Just listen to it-
Better than the fairies’ abode
Is my humble home
I have many dreams,
Some small some large
And every night my father
Takes them gently from behind my eyelids
And keeps them in his own eyes.
In the mornings he gives them back,
Woven with gold.
He sits me on his shoulders,
And together we go for walks in the sky.
When I get tired, he turns into a horse
And carries me the rest of the way.
My mother brings me joy every day,
In a plate in front of me.
Every bite only increases my hunger,
Because it is joy she feeds.
(While Drupad is reading the poem out, the light dims slowly and another comes on her mother, standing at the back. She is quietly listening to the poem. Drupad finishes reading.)
Mother: Your father turns into a horse? That’s not true! Pinki are you lying?
(The light on mother fades as well. Now only Pinki is lit- she looks at Bapu, and a light comes on on his portrait.)
Pinki: Bapu, I don’t want anything. I don’t want any of this. The red pencil will not leave me. I can’t sleep at night Bapu, I never asked for any of this. What do I do? I’m scared. I don’t want it, I don’t want any of this.
Drupad: Pinki, Pinki. Where are you going? Pinki?
(Drupad walks out after Pinki. The rest of the kids looks at Drupad first, and then at the medal Pinki has flung to the ground before walking out. Slowly, they line. Meanwhile, Pratyush, Neetu and Dolly run after Pinki. Everyone else restarts the competition. The janitor rings the bell.)
(Black out)
Scene 11
(Pinki is sitting alone. The janitor brings a stack of papers and starts spreading them on the floor. He spots Pinki.)
Janitor: Arrey Pinki, what are you still doing here? You haven’t gone home yet?
Pinki: Nope.
Janitor: Panning to camp here tonight?
Pinki: Uncle, I don’t remember the last time I slept.
Janitor: Is the poet composing something deep? What happened, isn’t this meant to be the bit when you’re happy? Come on, let me hear one of your poems.
Pinki: It’s not a poem, it’s a problem. One of my friends has a serious problem. Well, my best friend actually. She…she told a lie.
(Pratyush, Dolly and Neetu creep up behind them and stay hidden.)
Janitor: What lie?
Pinki: Nevermind that.
Janitor: So what happened?
Pinki: She got caught up in the lie.
Janitor: How?
Pinki: People started believing the lie. And now, she want to tell everyone the truth, but they won’t accept it.
Janitor: You mean the lie became the truth and the truth became the lie? That is a big problem.
Pinki: The lie has become huge, and very heavy. Tell me, what should I tell her to do?
Janitor: Is your best friend called Pinki?
Pinki: Uncle!
Janitor: I’m joking, I’m joking. I think your friend should…
Pinki: My friend should what?
Janitor: I think your friend should have a cup of tea with a really close friend.
Pinki: Tea?
Janitor: Yes, tea. Who is someone close to your friend?
Pinki: She doesn’t…she doesn’t have a friend.
Janitor: Arrey there must be someone?
Pinki: Just Bapu.
Janitor: Whose Bapu?
Pinki: Bapu. The Bapu. Haven’t you studied history?
Janitor: Oh that Bapu. Great! Sit down and have a cup of tea with Bapu. Everything will be alright.
(The janitor leaves. Pinki turns to talk to Bapu when a piece of paper hits her. Then another. Then another.)
Pratyush: Aha! Finally got her alone.
Dolly: We’ll make her pay now.
Neetu: We will get the truth out of her.
Pratyush: Be honest now, who wrote those poems?
Neetu: We know it wasn’t you.
Dolly: Come on, the truth, NOW!
Pratyush: Did your dad write them?
Dolly: Her mother must dictate them.
Neetu: We’re not letting you go till you tell us.
Everyone: Speak! Speak! Speak!
Pratyush: Stop! Alright poetess, you want to tell us now or do you want a beating?
(Roma enters)
Roma: Oi!
(Roma stands in front of Pinki and screams, demonstrating an impressive karate move, ending in a perfect attack position in front of the three. They get scared, and try to copy her pose.)
Pratyush: We can do karate too.
Dolly: Yes, yes we took classes too.
Neetu: I have a yellow belt.
(Roma demonstrates a few more terrifying, perfect moves, and the three yell in fright. She tells them to be quiet.)
Roma: Shut up! Pinki? Pinki!
(Pinki is not there.)
Roma: Where did Pinki go?
The Three: We’ll check.
(Black out)
Scene 12
(In the shadow screen, we see Pinki leaving. A few steps behind her in red pencil. Pinki stops and looks at it. The pencil stops. Pinki starts walking again. So does the pencil. Suddenly Gandhiji’s shadow appears in front of Pinki. She starts talking to him. The red pencil is still behind her.)
Bapu: Pinki!
Pinki: Bapu!
Bapu: What happened?
Pinki: Bapu, do you drink tea?
Bapu: I’ll have a cup with you.
Pinki: I’m really stuck.
Bapu: How?
Pinki: You know I didn’t write those poems. But nobody is listening to me. And this stupid red pencil won’t stop writing lies.
Bapu: And the lie is getting bigger.
Pinki: It’s becoming huge. What should I do? This lie won’t stop following me around, and I can’t sleep.
Bapu: Just tell the truth!
Pinki: I want to but nobody wants to listen.
Bapu: No, not to them. To yourself. You have to tell the truth to yourself first. If you listen, so will they.
Pinki: But I’m already saying it.
Bapu: Your lies are in your poems right?
Pinki: Yes.
Bapu: So you just have to tell the truth there.
Pinki: But I can’t write poetry.
Bapu: If you can write lies, you will be able to write the truth. It’s easier.
Pinki: But what do I write that’s true?
Bapu: Now that’s up to you.
Pinki: Bapu, I will write the truth.
Bapu: What happened to that cup of tea?
Pinki: I’ll get it.
Scene 13
(It’s the final poetry competition. There are four masked judges, one of them is Dr Ramesh. Everyone is sitting in front, wearing masks and pretending to write. Pinki is not wearing a mask.)
Judge 1: I would like to welcome our chief guest, Dr Ramesh!
Ramesh: Oh it is an honour to be here.
Judge 2: The poet of the future is here with us ladies and gentlemen!
Ramesh: My pleasure, my pleasure.
Judge 3: This is the final, decisive competition.
Judge 1: The winner will be the best poet.
Judge 2: The final selection will be done by Dr Ramesh.
Ramesh: My pleasure!
Judge 3: So poets, is everyone ready?
(Everyone takes up their pose and are poised to write)
Judge 1: Ramesh ji, if you would announce the theme now.
Ramesh: My pleasure!
Judge 2: Ramesh ji…the subject, the subject
Ramesh: Oh yes, of course. It gives me great joy to announce that the theme for today’s competition…
Judge 1: Is ‘joy’! Happiness!
(Everyone starts writing immediately, and they make ‘sounds of happiness’. The judges keep changing their poses. When everyone is done writing they hold their papers up to the sky. A judge claps his end and announces time up by saying “freeze!’” Pinki keeps her paper down.)
Pinki: I wanted to look like somebody else. Be somebody else. That’s what the red pencil did, it created a new Pinki. And that Pinki kept growing, till she was larger than life, larger than me. I started getting lost in her. But I am not her. I’m Pinki. Just plain old Pinki, who can’t write poems.
(During Pinki’s monologue, we see the red pencil breaking in the shadow screen. On stage, the judge collects all the papers and hands them to Ramesh. Ramesh rejects all of them one by one, till he comes across one which makes him smile and chuckle a little. He hands that one to the judge. Judge says-)
Judge 1: Haha…the winner…is also called Ramesh!
(One of the kids raises his hand, and all the others hang their heads. Freeze.)
Pinki: Bapu, I want to sleep. I’m very sleepy, I need to sleep.
(Pinki lies down and goes to sleep. The rest of the kids look up and look at her sleeping. They all take off their masks and lie down. Everyone goes back to the embryo pose. The play loops back to the beginning, and the first scene with the embryos repeats itself. The red pencil drops. Nandu wakes up with a jerk. Holds up the pencil and asks everyone who the pencil belongs to. When he doesn’t get an answer, and then looks at the audience in surprise, as if to ask what he’s supposed to do with it. By now, everyone else has finished the scene up to where they are born from the embryos. The lights slowly dim, and then black out.)
The end.
