Stage Frequency Podcast transcripts
Ep.1 : One Last Time
INT.Bar
(slurringly) “Paradise…..you know what paradise is ?..hmm Francis? It’s the place to be…Life of luxury, royal living…specially curated. It’s a dream come true, they say. It’s an apartment with World class amenities, 15 minutes from the airport, 12 minutes from the beach and 10 minutes from an international school. Everything you need in your little world. Sea facing, high rise apartment, swimming pool, gym… bachon ka ground”. Francis, partially invested in the tv, says, ‘Sounds nice sir’. Radheya says, grudgingly “Only it’s not a dream, goddamn nightmare. My 10 years of savings… all I had, gone. Inspector said the builder has fled,stole my life’s savings and just disappeared.., gone…, rehne ke liye kiraya nahi, court jane ka paisa nahi, aur rone ke liye kandha nahi”. Francis says, “Well, I’m sure you’ll come out of it sir, after all.. a man provides, you still have your family” Radheya, almost in a gush says, “My daughter died 4 years ago, and as for my wife and son, I’m dead… in their eyes”. Francis, taken aback, “Oh..oh I’m sorry”. Radheya realising, “No, no I’m sorry, I’ve just had one too many of these”. Radheya, now in an attempt to collect himself, “You know, you really are the only person who listens to my whining, and this bourbon”. Francis, “ It’s a wednesday evening sir, I’m only serving you tonight, all ears here”. Radheya,now with his face between his palms, “ Things were bad between me and Urvi, after my daughter was gone, they got worse, we split…and thanks to my drinking problem..she got the son” continuing, “ I thought, if I really prove myself, to give them the stability they deserve, the life I promised, have our own house… they’d come back, she’d come back” Francis nodding, Radheya pauses, “ hey, I don’t really have cash on me right now-”, “Don’t worry sir, I’ll add it to the Tab” said Francis warmly.
As the clock struck midnight and the commotion of the city slipped into it’s cozy walls, the concrete jungle washed away by the rains, it’s mud, dirt and for the many seeking life in the city, their ambitions that wash away with the filth every year. In the bar, all that remains is Radheya, old man Francis, the half filled glass of bourbon and despair that hangs in the misty air. Radheya asks Francis “ You have children Francis? “ , Francis who’s sitting on his stool behind the empty counter in the dimly lit bar nodds “No… Maria always wanted one but no, I have nephews though, 2 sweet boys” Radheya, barely holding up a gaze, “Bundle of Joy, isn’t that what they always say ? a child is a gift. They’re not a gift….. They’re a limb, like an eye for someone who’s always been blind, you never knew it was this that you were missing, never knew you could love something so unconditionally, an extension of yourself. What they also don’t tell you is the pain that is left when this gift is taken from you… like a part of you dies with them.” Radheya takes a final gulp of the bourbon, leans back on the chair “ You know, I think about my daughter now… what she was spared, sometimes I think she would be grateful. It was a tumor in her brain, the doctor said… she didn’t feel a thing, went straight into a coma and then somewhere in that darkness…she eventually slipped out into another..deeper kind. Isn’t …….isn’t that a beautiful way to go out ? (sniggers to himself) painlessly… as a happy child, the problem with dying later is that the damage is already done….it’s too late”. Francis gets up, slowly moving out of the counter as he notices Radheya is too tipsy to pick himself up from the counter. Radheya, groggily, “She spared me the sin… of being a father, Francis, she spared me”. Francis, now concerned, tells him “ Ok Radheya, now that’s enough, you should probably stop now, I’ll drop you to your house if you want….” Radheya slurring, “ No I’m going to have another one.. And then another (mumbling) and another….and …..” Radheya collapses on the bar floor as Francis calling out his name and watching above him fades. It is all dark now, but there is a certain stillness to the numb feeling, there’s no pain, no ringing in the head, just still silence.
Radheya opens his eyes, that are no longer heavy with insomnia, his feet no longer tired, a feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. He is still on the bar floor, but this time there is just him, no one else. A faint scent of liquor still lingering in the air, making him lightheaded but not hungover. Radheya gets up on his feet and notices a sudden beam of light that shines down the road outside the window panes of the bar. It’s a taxi, and the road is deserted, something it had never been in a long time. Radheya walks out, still disoriented, the car is in front of the bar as if waiting for someone. An old driver, bald and wearing a scarf peeked out of the car window and asked, “Looking for a ride ?” Radheya looks at him and says, “I..I don’t have any money” The driver replies “You’ve strayed too far Radheya, let me take you home.” Radheya, still confused, gets in the back seat and asks after realising “ Hey, how did you know my name ?” the man replies, “It’s been a long night, get some rest”. As the old man adjusts his mirror, Radheya catches a glimpse of himself, his face illuminated by the soft light of the street lamps, his wrinkles reflecting the years of stress. The car begins to move, a bit too swiftly, as if to not expect any turns. The Old man looks back at the sulking figure and asks, “What’s the matter son, why so…so sad? Rough patch?”. Radheya looks up, and in a hopeless tone replies, “Why would you even care?”. He looks at some symbols on his dashboard, not making out what they exactly were in the darkness, but they seemed religious in nature. The old man asks, “Have faith son, You a believer?” Radheya replies disapprovingly, “(smirks)Hmm..what ? so you’re from one of those parishads? Church group? Made Up nonsense”. The old man chuckles, “It sure is, so..you don’t believe in god?” Radheya feels a gush of anger well up in his chest and fulminates “ If I ever met that bastard, I’d ask him, How dare you? How dare you create a world so full of misery without a fault of our own? Bone cancer? Children barely old enough to speak their first words with Tumors and diseases? It’s not right…… Why should I respect a God who created a world so full of Injustice, pain and suffering? I shun the bastard, for taking my daughter, I shun him for all my life of pain and disappointment, If he’s up there looking down at me I hope he knows what an unjust, capricious twat he is for this meaningless mess. It just isn’t fair…..” The Old man takes a deep breath and replies, “Tell me Radheya… does a deer proclaim injustice when a lion preys on it? Is the predator void of suffering? Who’s life is more unfair, the fish that freely roams the sea, or the shark that preys on it, but has to keep moving to stay alive? All lives are unfair Radheya, suffering is what makes you human, what makes you appreciate the beauty of life no matter how cruel. You wouldn’t realise happiness, if you haven’t faced despair. There is no concept of joy without suffering. Suffering isn’t a curse Radheya, it is the measure of your being”. Radheya is caught by the familiar face staring back in the mirror, it was his younger self, the wear of years ebbing away from his face. He asks, “ But…. if so, why do we spend our lives chasing meaning, trying to escape our inevitable death? If we know there’s a heaven why suffer through life?” The old man replies, “ Heaven? I gave you an ever infinite universe and yet you yearn for something beyond? It is because of an end that makes life precious,Radheya. Humans think they perceive the world in a special way, and yet you live in your own loops, victim to your very biological nature, seldom questioning your own choices. You chase money and blame your circumstances, but Radheya, you forget, destiny is not created by the shoes you wear but by the steps you take.” Radheya, in a voice that was lost to his youth, asks “But, if that is so, then what’s the meaning of all this? If we’re just creatures of need”. The old man says “It’s simple, there aren’t any wrong answers, it is exactly what you make of it. In your quest for power and wealth you forget… there is a satisfaction in good old labour, in simple goals, in being sufficient. The happiness that cannot be brought by unbound wealth. And as for purpose Radheya, it is in Hope, in the heaven of little things, the hope of morning to come, Have you ever sailed across an ocean, Radheya? On a sailboat surrounded by sea with no land in sight, without even the possibility of sighting land for days to come? To stand at the helm of your destiny?I want that one more time. I want to be there for Onam in Kerala, to feel the surge as ten race boats go thundering by. I want another meal at the langar in the golden temple, I want another cup of tea at the foothills of the Himalayas, One more thandai at home for holi, one more diwali. I want to stand at attention in unison below the flag, one last time. Climb the everest, ride the river, stare at the ajanta. Read a good book under the stars, and then another, I want to feel the loving embrace of my mother, one last time. To see the joy on my children’s face, I want to feel the warmth of the sheets of my bed. I want to make breakfast for my grandkids. To remember and laugh at my experiences, I want the nurturing air to fill my old lungs one last time. Give me that. Most of all I want to sleep. I want to sleep like I slept when I was a little boy , Just give me that, one last time.
(There is a sound of an infant baby crying in the back seat where Radheya was seated).
Written by Pratik Patil, Kaustuv Mohapatra and Rohit Kumar Suman.
