Monday 27 February 2012

Neutral Dialogue - 2


Please see Neutral Dialogue - A Game for the premise.

The original neutral dialogue:
1: Look at the moon
   2: Ah, I know
1: Why is the water white?
   2: I want an ice cream.
1: I ate a brush.
   2: I need an [sic] haircut.


Scene Starts:
Two people are standing on an empty stage. 
1 appears to be pushing button and turning switches on and off. 2 has placed a hand in empty space around waist high and is leaning over to establish it is some kind of table, looking intently at something and then raises a thumb. This makes 1 stop, then jump and float about as if there is no gravity and take a place next to 2 in slow motion.


1 looks down and excitedly mouths something. 
2 pantomimes "I cannot hear." 

They both make adjustments to their space helmets.


1. Loo [static] the [static]

Both make some more fine tuning to their helmets

1: [Clearly in a well enunciated voice] Look At The Moon

2 looks down in response
2. [Nods vigorously for a long time in slow motion] Ah, I Know!

They jump and tumble and 1 opens a sort of door and walks in. 2 follows him and closes the door behind him. They check a few things and then make a thumb sign. And simultaneously take their helmets off and exhale.


1 Opens a door in a wall and takes out a pretend bottle and a tray, and passed it to 2. 2 Takes it. and then 1 carries another set to where 1 has placed the food.

They stand near a table and almost synchronised, open their bottle, take the cover off their plate, and look at the food sadly.


1 picks up the bottle and looks at it intently, then smells it investigatorily. 
1: Why is the water white?

2 shakes his head in resignation.
2: I want an ice cream.

1 picks up something from the plate and puts it in mouth, chews it for some time and unable to stop, sprays it all over 2. 


2 is startled. 


1: [Making a face a mix of disgust and guilt, looking down, avoiding 1's eyes] I ate a brush.

2 keeps looking in the direction of 1 astonished. 1 finally looks and smiles sheepishly. That breaks up 2's astonished face, a smile breaks in. They laugh letting it out in small shots, like simpering. They exchange plates and start eating again. 


After eating one bite still chewing on it slowly, 2 investigates the recently soiled head, tries to bring a lock of hair to nose and smell it:


Speaking from a mouthful:
2. I nee(d) a(n) (h)air-(c)u(t).
1 nods slowly.

Scene Ends

Sunday 26 February 2012

Neutral Dialogue - A Game

The challenge of Neutral Dialogue is to make a story from a set of unconnected lines. Great for exciting imagination. Please go on reading after the scene is over to know more about the game and how I wrote this scene.

In this scene there are only two actors on a bare stage with no props. Which means anything they need can be created instantly just by making the viewers believe it's there!

Scene Starts:
Two people are reclining on their elbows on an empty floor, gazing in the horizon. 1 is on the stage right, 2 on the stage left.

1 is sitting idly. 

2 sits up and slowly takes a handful of nothing from his side on the floor brings it to the front, and allows the pretend sand to slowly pour in the other hand. 
1 gets up with a start, dusts some sand grains off, looking mildly annoyed. 


Then looks up, and starts a conversation but not with too much enthusiasm.
1: Look at the moon.

2 dejectedly throws the rest of the sand away and cleans hands by clapping hands first, meets 1's mildly annoyed gaze again, then rubbing them against pants sleeves. Looks up, but in a different direction. Starts moving head slowly as if following the trajectory of an aeroplane. 1 is looking at 2 more concerned this time. 


With not much energy:
2: Ah, I know.


2 reaches to the left side and moves a hand to establish opening the lid of a box, 12" high, rummages through it to look for something. Pulls something out holding it in left hand, twisting with the right hand a few inches higher, establishing that it is a bottle. Takes the cap off and throws it in the box.


Tries to pass the bottle. 1 looks at the bottle sadly, but doesn't take it.
1: Why is the water white?

2 gives 1 "why are you such a cynic?" look, and then drinks from the bottle. Then folds legs up and puts hands around them, bottle still hanging heavily from the right hand. Takes another sip, brightens up a little, looks to left, finds something and gropes for 1's shirt sleeve without looking back, cannot find it, turns animatedly and excitedly towards 1.


2's left hand pointing left at something off stage. 
2: I want an ice-cream!

1 looks in the direction, gets up dejectedly, walks dragging his feet, partly due to the sand, takes something out of the back pocket of pants starts combing, and exits the stage. 


2 starts looking up. 


1 re-enters, holding neck with both hands, unable to breathe and walking unsteadily. 2 sees this, throws the bottle towards the audience, stands up with a  jump and runs to 1. Holds arms around chest and applies pressure as is done in case of chocking. 1 catches something in right hand as it is shot out of the mouth, catches breath and bends on knees, puts the right arm up without looking up. 


2 takes the small object from 1's hand holding it with two fingures as if it was a comb covered in phlegm and spit, which it is.
1: [Gasping for air in between] I... ate... a... brush.

2 looks astonished, then smiles teasingly, waiting for 1 to look up. 


1 looks up and catches the gaze, both of them smile and encouraged by each other slowly start laughing, and do a high-five.


2 takes the wet comb and keeping a good distance between the head and the wet comb, mock combs hair; looking into the left palm, the mock mirror, says in Eliza Dolittle voice:
2: Coo, Aye needs an 'aircut!


Synchronised they let out a guffaw, bending over their knees. 


Scene Ends.


----
This is a famous acting game that I used to play a lot (not alone then) for theatre classes and otherwise. It is called Neutral Dialogue. It is a fun game that any two people can play in any space, where they can speak and move about reasonably.

One person can also play it, if you have enough imagination. If you can't yet, learn how, it's one of the most important items in the emergency packet for a disaster such as, [only for a random example, I was not thinking trying to get at this honestly!] a break-up.

The game goes like this:
First, with your friend or your evil twin who lives inside you, you create a neutral dialogue, a small script if you may, of lines which are not obviously consequent in a normal dialogue. For example:
(1 and 2 are different characters)
1: Look at the moon
   2: Ah, I know
1: Why is the water white?
   2: I want an ice cream.
1: I ate a brush.
   2: I need an [sic] haircut.

Second, with your partner-in-crime you make up a scene in which this dialogue happens, using no words other than these.
[Caution: If you are doing this part alone avoid the temptation to argue with yourself aloud in two different voices. Even the nicest people around you are touchy about that kind of thing.]

The challenge is to make characters that are consistent and complete using just the few words you have. The scenes I have been a part of and witnessed, ran for a few minutes using only 8-10 lines, and were, in most cases excellent.

Important questions to ask: What is the conflict? What do the characters want? Where are they, what do they see, smell, feel? What time of the day is it?

The scene above is just one possible outcome. Another scene with the same neutral dialogue:
 http://mz-personal.blogspot.in/2012/02/neutral-dialogue-2.html


Saturday 18 February 2012

Saying It With Flowers

I was standing at the Kasturba nagar MRT railway station at ~9 am on a Friday morning, looking out of the interesting shape of the gigantic station roof, at the blue sky and the railway track. A low intensity commotion broke my reverie and caught my interest.

In close vicinity there was a woman, aged around forty I would guess, squatting on the floor, her hands held in a firm grip around her legs. She was dressed in a colourful yellow and blue saree and a yellow blouse. A man, around the same age as the woman, dressed in a lungi striped in shades of blue and a pale blue shirt was standing on her right side.

The man was holding a handful of yellow and saffron flowers. And in the other hand a few pieces of coconut. Flowers and coconut, prasad from a temple I presume. The man was trying to give the flowers to the woman. The woman looked stern faced and resolute.

He held the flowers out on his hand out for sometime. Then he tried to put in on her hands but she would shrug and move. Then he tried to put the flowers between her knees. That was met with a strong look. In his defense, the man said things in a low voice and a very recognisable tone.

If human pleading styles was a function there would be part of it which depends on variables such as culture, language, age, context. And then a large potion which is constant. It was this constant part that I recognised.

He was persistant and kept standing there, out of lack of knowledge of where else to go or what else to do. He was not saying very much, just a few words sparsed out over a few minutes. And then she lost it. She went back to fast talking at the ni (Ti) note on my scale, the same kind that caught my attention. This seemed to have helped him. He had something more to say in the same low, pleading tone.

Her words and his words went somewhere and melted something. Her expressions changed. He was perceptive and decided to sit down next to her. They started talking now. She was shaking her head and looking down while talking but her face was less stern.

The train arrived. I boarded. They may have decided to miss it, I am not sure.

I hope they did.


Monday 13 February 2012

As Gaurav Or When Mirza Sir Failed

Gaurav was entering his class at 9 35. He was late. He knew that he will not have any class. Mirza sir was very upset for past many weeks about the 9’o clock class not beginning on time. Mirza sir taught Science and Math to him others in class 9. Mirza sir would get very upset when they came late for the “Extra Class”. “Extra” because for all other classes in the school begin at 10.

He went to the class and greeted Pawan and Gautam with smiles. There was a general chorus of “when did you come” questions.

They were all late and they were kind of sorry about it too. They sat around their hexagonal red table discussing yesterday’s cricket match and waiting for someone to come or not come. 


Some noises were heard form the passage adjoining their room. Mirza sir was coming. He was talking to someone else. They went silent and waited for him to enter the class. A few minutes later, breaking the silence, Pawan asked Gaurav “have you written the density experiment?” They had performed it yesterday in the third period. Pawan was scared that Mirza sir would want to check it. 
Gaurav didn’t say anything. He smiled and looked down. Gaurav thought more and spoke less. That is what he and others thought of him. He was happy with that image. He was respected by all younger students. 

Currently Mirza sir’s arrival was taking forever. He was talking to someone else in an explanatory tone.

Suddenly Mirza sir pushed into the class room. He was followed by a person. “He is half my size” Gaurav thought. Gaurav was as tall as Mirza sir. He was tallest in the whole school.

“Good morning” Mirza sir said. “You all are late” Gaurav completed the sentence in his mind and looked at Pawan. Pawan, by some kind of telepathy, heard him and smiled back.
“Meet Prakash sir,” Mirza sir continued, “he will teach you Science and Math from today.”

Gaurav was not able to process everything he just heard. He was not able to picture what Mirza sir was saying. His eyebrows were twitching going into surprise and normal every second or so. Mirza sir had taught them for many years. More importantly, they all trusted Mirza sir to like them. They were undisciplined, but Mirza sir was not just their teacher. He was not sure what was happening. Prakash sir was smiling at them.

“So Prakash sir, you can start today.” Mirza sir said dispassionately and made a swift dance like move towards a corner and sat down on a chair. Prakash sir looked nervous. He was smiling and nodding. And looking more nervous.

“So t.t.t. take your books and copies, books and copies” Prakash sir said glancing a sweeping look at all of them.

"He stammers” Gaurav thought and got up to look at his bag. He was not sure if he had packed the science notebook and book after he was working on them last night. He looked through his bag and he got the book and copy out.

“So what.. what have..a a a…you.. studied now..” Prakash sir said. “..till now” he added in the same elongated breath correcting himself.

Mirza sir was standing at the corner looking very unconcerned. Gaurav knew he was angry with them, but Gaurav and his friends believed Mirza sir will never leave school the way other teachers have left in the past. He will always teach science to them as he had for last 2 years. 

He was angry but he would not stop teaching us. I have been absent for a month. It is not even my fault. I have been trying hard to catch up.” Gaurav went on thinking, nodding and looking interested in whatever Gautam and Prakash sir were talking about.

“They wouldn’t know sir, they were absent for many practicals and lectures in last month sir." 
 Mirza sir said, rudely interrupting the talk between Gautam and Prakash Sir, whatever it was about. "We should talk about the work they are supposed to have done later on, maybe in the tiffin time.” Gaurav had seen Mirza sir disappointed but never as unattached as he seemed right now. 

Soon Mirza sir went out of the class. Prakash sir switched to Hindi. "He stammers much less in Hindi." Gaurav sat there listening to him and thinking. Speaking nothing.

Sunday 12 February 2012

The Dance Class

Arshad Mirza
Dec 18, 2006
Banaras, India

That’s a good reaction but what happened after that!
Something new,
but you are still in middle of it, 
            if you can react from far away.
"I looked up
and it felt like the sky was flashing
and then I felt everyone was jumping and falling on me."

From now on let’s make it about what we feel,
what did you feel when you ran away?
Don’t be characters don’t make a story
but still make it a whole.

Two of you are just playing with each other
being together
If you whisper something to your friend
you make it about you two,
but what about us all?

Be aware of each other
don’t jump without looking.
You have to react,
make it a less dangerous reaction.
Be more careful,
if we practice more we will never get hurt.

I will get you some ice.


Thursday 9 February 2012

Let's Haunt a House - A Play for Young Actors


Original Short Story by
Manly Wade Wellman

Adapted into a play by
Arshad Mirza

Cast in order of appearance
Scout 1
Scout 2
Sherlock Hilton (scout)
Max Hinkel (scout)
Doc Watson (scout)
Chuck Schaefer (scout)
Sheehan (Junior Scout master)
Mr Brimmer (Scout master)
Stubs (a thief with low voice)
Corey (thief with high voice and a gun)
Sheriff Palmer

Scene 1

Light: We can see the full moon in the back curtain which is lit from the back.
There is blue light and almost darkness on stage. Its middle of the night almost to break off as morning say 3 am.

Sounds: we can hear throughout this scene the sounds of the night, some sleeping birds, owls, crickets, wind and trees.
A small water source maybe a small raven or gorge somewhere nearby.

Stage: There are a few trees at the back. There is a pile of firewood that two children dressed in scout uniforms are trying to light up. Three children are sitting under a camp and talking sleepily. One child is bringing water in a bucket to the fire place, very slowly, from the far side across walking from behind the camp. There are a few bicycles lying or standing near the camp.


Scout 1 is striking a stone with another

Scout 1: [sleepily] Oh! I’ll never get the medal for survival in a forest; I can never get this thick wood burn without matches. And I am so hungry.

Scout 2: Pssst. I have some.

Takes out matches looks left and right lights it, it duds. Looks for more sticks, there are none.

They look at each other, a moment and then they go back to striking stones. Looking sad.

Scout 1: [murmuring while yawning] I am so hungry.

A tall and well-built person, Mr Brimmer, walks across the stage talking to another tall teenager - junior scout master Sheehan. They are discussing something about going to the police station and coming back in a few minutes. There is a mention of how can a whole car just vanish like that. Mr Brimmer is almost scared but in control.

Mr Brimmer: [addressing all the scouts.] Okay guys! Junior scout master Sheehan and I are going to get the Hillwood county sheriff. We will be back soon. In the time I come back, I appoint Max as my deputy and in-charge. One last time I want to make sure what to tell the Police, did anyone from you guys, hear even as much as a sound of engine? Look here, I know you all are supposed to be in bed, but as we have risen early we will continue with our daily routines. Is that clear?

All the scouts:   Sir, yes sir!

Mr Brimmer:     Let’s get going.

Exit Mr Brimmer and Sheehan
As soon as they reach off stage we can hear sound of a car starting and going away.
Sherlock Hamilton is knitting his brows in contemplation all the others look at him for some time.

Doc Watson: [To Sherlock Hamilton] So what do you think, Sherlock Hamilton. The car vanishes, while we are all asleep. No clues, no noise, no (tyre) tracks. What do you think?

Sherlock Hamilton: [to Doc Watson] Watson, No clues, no noises, no (tyre) tracks. [mocking] A ghosts must have gobbled it up.

Chuck Schaefer:       Maybe a ghost did. The farmers around here say that there is a haunted house two miles down the road.

Doc Watson:     Leave it to Mr Palmer, he is a Police Sergeant when he is not our scoutmaster. Mr. Brimmer will bring him back tonight.

Max Hinkel (who was getting water): And Mr Palmer will explode all the ghost theories. [To Sherlock in a mocking tone] Ghost stories- you sound Middle-Agey, Sherlock.

Sherlock:   I am not middle aged, I turned 15 last birthday, and ditto Doc, I don’t believe in ghosts anyway.

Doc:           I don’t either, I am just kind of afraid of them.

At that suggestion a howl and a crack of lightening can be heard from the background.


Scene 2

A projection of the haunted house. A greyish house all withered and broken. The windows are boarded up. The picture has a lot of trees in the front.

The scouts pass across the stage on the bicycles, there are a few sitting on carriers and few riding. They stop and look at the projection for quite a few minutes.

Max:     Can you see the haunted house? I can see it down there.

Chuck: I wouldn't go there ever for a congressional medal.

Max:     Medals are for heroes. I will go there for nothing, just to prove whatever it proves.

Scout 1: (sitting on the carrier of Max’s bike) let us not stop here, let us leave fast. I am scared.

Everyone looks at him. And then in a friendly way they all decide to go.



Scene 3

Stage: its noon time and there is bright light all over the stage. All the boy scouts have plates of empty or half eaten food in their hands. There is a trash bag made of paper kept there and
Scout 1 and 2 are putting the food in the trash as they speak to the group still sitting and eating.

Scout 1:       Wasn’t that house scary? I am glad we did not go too near it. I would have nightmares about it.

Scout 2:       I am going to have nightmares even now. Haunted or not, that house is going to haunt me for many nights to come.

Sherlock: [to Max] You would visit that house after dark, would you?

Exit scout 1 and 2, to wash their dishes.

Max:     I read you like a book Sherlock. You are daring me to visit Creep Castle after sundown.

Sherlock: [quoting him] Medal are for heroes. [turning to Doc Watson] Listen to this Watson, if Max will go there, I’ll give him an item for his junk collection. [Takes out a beautiful big medal] This Mexican war medal I found.

Max:     It’s a deal. [He stands up walks towards the garbage bag]

Sherlock and Watson exchange winks and smile a wicked smile with eyebrows flicking up and down in excitement of mischief.
Exit Max

Sherlock [softly as if talking to Watson secretly]: You know my methods Watson. I was going to give him the medal anyways. Now…

Watson [old friends completing each others sentences]: … a healthy scare might stir his blood and make him grow? [A wicked smile again] count me in.

Lights dim off and as audience can watch the stage being set up.


Scene 4

Stage is divided into two, (stage right) one part is very dimly lit by the blue moon light and the other has a no light but the light entering from the cracks in window. There is a cardboard in between which has a door (can be closed and opened) and a window which is sealed but has cracks and crevices that lets light in.

We can see furniture covered in white sheets. There are a few trees in between the two parts of the stage.

Sounds of Cricket, owl and howling heard all throughout unless mentioned to be off.

Enter Sherlock and Max. Sherlock is holding a torch light, not in scout uniform but regular clothes. They stop many steps before the house.

Sherlock [in a hushed and hollow tone]: This is where I leave you.

When he says this he can put the battery torch light under his chin to create a creepy lookThen Sherlock puts the flash light on Max’s face to show his scared expressions.

Max [looks at the house and swallows saliva in fear]: and you will wait here? [Trying to sound brave]

Sherlock: [Turns the torch off, a moments pause, and then in a hushed and hollow tone] I promise nothing. Get going.

Max starts taking vary steps towards the house. Opens the door, door opens with a loud creek. He keeps it open behind him to let more light in.

As soon as he goes in Sherlock takes his shirt off. He is wearing a black T shirt underneath. He takes his pants off to reveal black pants. He quickly rubs a black colour on his face. And takes a few very fast but silent steps (black sneakers) behind max and enters the door and hides behind the wall.

Max moves over boards that make creaking noises. He sees something white moving.

Watson: (from under the sheets) Ahhhhhhh.
And take a few steps forward

Max takes only two steps back and the fright converts to knowledge and anger]
Max:     Come out of that sheet, Doc Watson. [Very confidently] Don’t you think I know your pudgy outline even in this?

Watson:      Oooooooh.

Max:     I know your bedding too. I suppose it’s your pal Sherlock behind you in that room, [there is another room off stage]

Sherlock steps out from near the fall.

Sherlock: [hollowly] I am right here. [Placing hand on Max’s shoulder]

Max jumps as if a pin pricked him.

Max: [alarmed] Then what is that behind Doc?

Something black towers behind Doc and makes a growl. Max turns behind and sprints out of the door and into the moonlight and right behind is Doc under his white sheet. As soon as they get off the door Max suddenly stops and Doc bumps into him. They both duck and sit behind a tree and look out at the house.

Max: [Stammering out of fear] What, what, where, where, where is Sherlock? I heard him inside.

Doc: [Realising] Sherlock! Sherlock is hung in there.

Both of them look at the house and lights dim. Audience can see as the stage is shifted.


Scene 5

The stage is Dark. All the furniture has shifted. There are two sparsely furnished rooms.

The sounds are still of cricket, owl and howls.

Lights are dim blue lights indicating darkness

Sherlock is in the room wearing black clothes and his face is also blackened. He is still against the wall.

The new black sheet person is standing looking off stage looking at the children running away. He is breathing heavily, and then he turns towards Sherlock.

Sherlock is very scared but Stubs cannot see him because it’s dark and Sherlock is dressed in all black. Stubs just looks past him and tries to walk his way back stumbling over something and stretching out hands to situate himself.

Each moment scares Sherlock and he is shaken but makes no sound or movement.

A new voice from off-stage left

Corey: Well, what was it Stubs?
Sherlock is shocked

Stubs: [makes a gruff noise] hmmm. Can’t be sure Corey. You were in attic huh? I was just opening a can of hash in the upstairs back room when I heard feet down here, on the stairs. I started out as quietly as I could, and somebody else came in. They walked together sounded like kids. Then one of them saw be and they ran out of here like dogs with cans tied to them.

Corey:   Did you see them playing outside?

Stubs:   For just a second. They dusted away in the trees as faster than my eyes could follow, let alone me. They sounded like kids.

Corey:   But maybe they were not.

Corey’s footsteps are heard descending the stairs very light and spry.

Enter Corey from actor’s stage left and walks across the second room to appear in the room where all the action is going on.

Corey:   You were smart not to go after them. Somebody might have had a gun. 

Pause.

Corey:   Strike a light.
Sherlock tries to sink into the walls at that idea.

Stubs: [Grunts to refuse] Won’t you ever learn Corey? Anybody watching can see the light between the boards on the windows. We stay in dark here after sundown, like I told you the first time when we came. The hicks around here give the place plenty of leeway, with all the ghost stories about it. But light may bring dicks instead of hicks.

Corey shuts the door as he walks towards Sherlock without knowing Sherlock starts moving across with the support of the wall towards actor’s stage left.

A loud creak is heard Sherlock gets a scare. Corey has just sat down on a chair.

Stubs:   Come on Corey, let’s listen for a while before we turn in.

Corey takes a heavy metal gun out of his pocket and places it on ground near a mic, making a loud noise.

Corey:   It’s going to be lonesome here. Three days and three nights in this spook hole. I feel spooky myself.

Stubs:   Good, The local yokels expect spooks. [Pause] Maybe what we’re doing has its drawbacks but it’s better than working, isn’t it?

Corey:   And you cannot beat the hours. We ain’t done bad so far. We got one night before, another last night, and you say you spotted one more, we can get that tomorrow night. Pull them to pieces and 88 garages hungry for parts will push and scramble to pay our price.

Pause
In all this time Sherlock is slowly moving along the wall, in the last pause he tries to find a door in the wall which is apparently there. He waits for someone to say something and make some sound for his sound to be covered up.

Corey:   Boo.

Stubs gives a little jump.

Both of them start laughing like mad men and in that loud noise Sherlock slips to the next room.

The lights on the first room dim to a very small amount and the second room is more illuminated for the audience. We can see parts of car a few tyres and engine heads etc lying around.

Sherlock is talking with himself.

Sherlock:    This looks like some sort of garage.
[lifts a tarpaulin finds a few tyres] Oh these tyres they are not new.
[Feels the threads] oh I have seen this kind of tyres before.
[moves to the next pile of tyres touches them] These tyres are as smooth as Hillary’s cheeks, as I had expected. Now I know. I do know.

He stumbles on something and a big tray full of some sound making kind of things fallon this cue the lights in the front room will light up, and the two characters will become more cautious. Corey will pick up his gun and they will get ready to move into the other room. They are moving very slowly to avoid making any noise.

In the other room leaping very quickly to near the door where they are approaching from, Sherlock takes the torch out of his pocket. As soon as they enter the door-less room,

Soon we hear car sounds and the two characters get wary. We hear a new loud voice from the stage right of the actor.

Sheriff:        Sherlock, are you here Sherlock?

Sherlock: [clearly loudly and fast] Sheriff Palmer, send someone to the back door, surround this place take out the guns.

Sherlock throws the torch to extreme stage left of actor. Cue for a light to come on from stage left.

Finding this time and gap, Sherlock creeps into the next room.

The two characters don’t understand anything, they just keep looking here and there.

Sheriff: [in quick response] We are all armed. What’s the matter?

[They are dumbfounded thinking that the torch light is coming from some police man coming from behindCorey drops his gun and keeps his arms on the head. So does Stubs. They are very scared of police.]

Sherlock:    Come in Sheriff.

Enter Sheriff Palmer with a big gun and a hat. Also enter Watson, Max, Mr. Brimmer and Junior Scout master Sheehan. They are carrying a torch light. The whole stage is lit up now.

Sherlock approaches him with raised hands.

Sherlock:    It’s me Sherlock. Follow me, they are in the next room.

Sheriff enters the next room with Sherlock.

Sheriff:               What’s going on here?

Stubs and Corey are standing with hands on head.

Stubs:          We give up. Anyway you have us surrounded.

Sherlock quickly picks up their gun. Sheriff hand cuffs them and then he relaxes.

Sheriff: [puzzled looking at Sherlock] Surrounded?

Sherlock:    I found the thieves responsible for two car thefts including Mr Brimmer’s.
[He uncovers the tyres and shows] look at these tyres they are totally worn off. No treads. These people go in the night change the tyres off the cars, and then push the car off to this place. No engine sounds, no treads.

Sheriff:        We knew something was fishy here. But you did a great job Sherlock. [Laughing, he picks up the flash light from the ground] Surrounded!

Everyone gives a big laugh. Stubs and Corey look at each other in puzzlement.

Curtains falls







Tuesday 7 February 2012

Happy Birthday Charles Dickens!

GABRIEL GRUB'S SONG

Brave lodgings for one, brave lodgings for one,
A few feet of cold earth, when life is done;
A stone at the head, a stone at the feet;
A rich, juicy meal for the worms to eat;
Rank grass overhead, and damp clay around,
Brave lodging for one, these, in holy ground!


As Babubhai Rathore *be warned: bad language*

I like this time of the day. I am an early riser. I have lived a good part of my life growing up in a village where we all got up before the sun. When I drive the bus at this time of the day I feel very relaxed. Somehow closer to myself.

These pesky school children are so uncaring. But I admire the courage on that one. He saw that the bus was coming and yet he rode his bicycle right past the BRTS track. He did not even look this way. What a bastard. One has to admire the courage on these Musalman sons-of-bitches.

I wonder how the others are doing. I have not met Jitu in such a long time. Those were good days. We were so fearless. We thought we would rule the world. So Foolish. We had no idea what we were up against. I did not know anything of this world. Of the kind of work my father was putting in being a bus driver in the city. But when one needs to know one learns. All that beating and yelling was totally uncalled for. See I am here now.

That is what I like in the boy who Kailash bhai introduced for my first born, Madhuri. A man should be able to put up with shit and have the guts to face down adversities. And should not be too good looking. Those are the untrustworthy types.

Only these motherfucking dogs think they own the street at this time of the day, barking and running as they please. These city dwellers don't know anything about compassion towards animals. They will not stop talking about Uttarayan [kite festival] and birds dying with kite threads, but they would rather I have killed that dog than have applied the breakes. And these women, off to work so early in the morning. What do their husbands do? I actually wouldn't mind working in an office if that one was sitting opposite to me. She can shut up murmuring the curses already. Let me speed and break once again, shake her out of her smug existence.

Yeah, I wouldn't mind meeting Jitu and Hariya again. Of course that trans-homo-motherfucker Mehul has become a bumlicker in Baroda. He thinks he is better than everyone. I would rather drive a bus and be free than sit in an office all day and think I am better than others. But one should have the cunning. His house in the village is nice. I will also improve ours with the retirement fund. He spent so much on his daughter's marriage. It's all written, he must have done some good deeds in the past life.

That idiot is not from the city of course - wearing his white shirt and white pajama, and a handkerchief tied around his head. Shouting like a puppy to keep the door open, as if I would close it on his toes. Let me scare him a little. Just a little movement. Ha ha.

This BRTS is a good idea, much less trouble than driving those red buses. These runs so smooth. I like my work. Look at that fat idiot there, trying to read an English book standing in a bus. He is not even reading it, he is staring at the road holding it open. He looks like he is 30+, when do these idiots stop studying? I bet his wife is fucking someone else.