Saadat Manto - My Name Is Radha

SAEEDA: Yes.

AMJAD: Would you consider my wish?

SAEEDA ( flips over to face him, a wounded desire to give herself completely floating in her eyes ): How, Amjad Sahib?

AMJAD: Pretend. . just for my sake. . pretend that I’m lying next to you. . And I’ll pretend that you’re lying with me. I’ll say those things to you that I wanted to say on our first night. . and you answer as you would have. . Please, Saeeda, for my sake. . could you play this make-believe game for me?

SAEEDA ( tears of pity replacing the earlier wounded desire to give herself in her eyes ): I’m ready, Amjad Sahib.

AMJAD: Thank you! ( After a long pause ) Tonight is our first night, Saeeda. . the night when youth takes its first step into earthly paradise. . the night into whose spaciousness two beings plunge to become one. . Don’t be shy. . For this is the night when all concealed truths restlessly await their inevitable unveiling; when just a soft whisper, a gentle sigh, a light caress, the slightest puff of escaping breath is enough to blow their veils aside. . so gently that one barely hears a rustle and yet is instantly face-to-face with Vision in all its resplendent glory; when eyes collide setting off a cascade of dazzling stardust that falls on the foreheads of two who have become one. This is the night. . the first, the very first night. . when Eve was formed from Adam’s rib. . this is the night that poets pray will never end. . this is the night the young often wish for. . this is the night when Nature itself unties the knots of modesty. . this is the night when all of Creation’s workshops concentrate on producing just one item. . the cog that gives motion and life to the whole Universe. . this is the night when all sounds subside into their points of origin to let the one sound that resonates with the command ‘BE!’ be heard clearly. . This is the night whose every veil is woven with silvery threads of light. . this is the night in whose presence all subsequent nights stand in reverential attendance. . this is the night in which every pore of the body speaks out without inhibition and listens raptly to the great untold secrets. . the great unsung melodies. . ( Abruptly screams ) Cover it! Cover it. . cover your body, Saeeda. . It’s biting me like a snake. . It’s slashing my crippled desires like a razor’s edge. . Cover it. . for God’s sake cover your body!

SAEEDA ( lying like a dead body made of tender blades of grass in the green light, with every part of her body trembling ): Yes.

AMJAD ( crying uncontrollably ): Cover your body!

(SAEEDA pulls the blanket over her tremulous body while AMJAD , his hand over his face, continues to cry. )

( Curtain ) ACT V

The garden adjacent to Nigar Villa. Evening. Water gurgling in the fountain. The shadows have lengthened. The grey hills in the background look even more sombre in the ebbing light. The sky is ashen. A solid silence has settled over the lush green lawn. The lawn chairs are unoccupied, the whole atmosphere vacant, like an empty picture frame waiting to be filled. The sound of MAJEED’s and SAEEDA’s laughter intrudes. Moments later they both walk in laughing, exhausted. SAEEDA slumps over in a chair while MAJEED stands by her.

SAEEDA ( pounding her thighs with her fists ): Ooooh!

MAJEED ( laughing ): Tired? Shall I give you a rubdown? Let me. .

SAEEDA ( flustered ): Oh no! Please, no! Just send for Asghari. Right now I couldn’t move two steps.

MAJEED ( smiling ): As you say. ( Steps forward and pushes aside a loose curl snaking over SAEEDA’s face. )

SAEEDA ( even more flustered ): I think I’ll go inside now. ( Begins to rise. )

MAJEED ( looking off to one side ): Look, here comes Asghari on her own. Over here, Asghari! Give Bhabhijan’s feet a massage.

(ASGHARI enters. The ends of her mouth quiver as though impatient to say something. She comes closer.)

ASGHARI ( to SAEEDA): Tired, Dulhan Begum?

SAEEDA ( drumming her thighs with her fists ): Very!

ASGHARI ( sits down on the grass and begins to massage one of SAEEDA’s calves vigorously, but her words are intended for MAJEED): This is all Majeed Mian’s fault. Such a long hike and so fast at that ( sharply ). . one ought to proceed slowly ( rubbing slowly down SAEEDA’s leg ) like this. . slowly. ( Addressing SAEEDA) Feel any better, Dulhan Begum?

SAEEDA ( her free leg quivering nervously ): Yes, yes, much better.

ASGHARI ( to MAJEED): Majeed Mian, you should go wash up. Your face is so dusty it looks like an unwashed potato.

MAJEED ( snaps ): You’ve really become quite cheeky. All this. .

ASGHARI ( interrupting him ): Blame Dulhan Begum, she’s spoiled me. ( Looks at SAEEDA) And what a lovely face she has.

(majeed exits, his eyes radiating suppressed anger. )

ASGHARI ( laughing ): By God’s grace Majeed Mian has a nice handsome face, but it looks so grotesque when he’s angry. What do you think?

SAEEDA: Don’t say such things to me. ( Tries to get up but is thwarted by asghari’s iron grip. ) Let me go!

ASGHARI ( continues to massage ): I don’t want to deprive myself of the pleasure of serving you. ( Removes the sandals from SAEEDA’s feet. ) Majeed Mian said that I’ve become cheeky. Have I, Dulhan Begum?

SAEEDA: Absolutely.

ASGHARI ( unperturbed, cracking SAEEDA’s toes ): This is horrible. A servant should never be cheeky. You should box my ears.

SAEEDA: Be quiet!

ASGHARI: That’s not fair! Preventing someone from speaking is downright tyrannical, Dulhan Begum. What have I said that offends you so?

SAEEDA ( agitated ): Everything you say offends me.

ASGHARI: What can poor Asghari do now? ( After a pause ) I thought I’d learned all there was to learn serving an educated mistress like yourself for a whole year. Now I see I was wrong. . I haven’t learned a thing. . but whose fault is that — the pupil’s or the teacher’s?

SAEEDA ( pulling her legs away and speaking in a clear, decisive tone of voice ): What is it that you really want to say?

ASGHARI ( with feigned surprise ): Me?

SAEEDA: Yes, you. What do you really want to say?

ASGHARI ( thinking ): Oh, there’s a whole lot I want to say. .

SAEEDA ( rising and walking barefoot on the grass ): Then spit it out! I don’t particularly enjoy your daily needling. I’m ready to hear you out.

ASGHARI: You really are brave, Dulhan Begum.

SAEEDA: Brave or cowardly — leave that out of it. Get whatever you want to say out of your system.

ASGHARI: Spit it out? All right. But it will nauseate both of us.

SAEEDA: Don’t bother about me. I’ll manage.

ASGHARI ( thinking ): I used to think you’d cower when I bared my fangs. But I see you’re past worrying about being wounded. . It’s you who frightens me now.

SAEEDA ( pacing nervously to and fro ): Asghari!

ASGHARI ( startled ): Yes?

SAEEDA: Just tell me this: what would I have done if Amjad Mian had died in the train wreck?

ASGHARI: You? I don’t know what you would have done.

SAEEDA: I’m young. I’m beautiful. . numberless desires surge inside of me. For seventeen long years I’ve nurtured them with the nectar of my dreams. How can I stifle them? I’ve tried, God knows I’ve tried, Asghari. . but I couldn’t bring myself to strangle them. Call me weak. . cowardly. . immoral. . whatever you like. . And although you’re just a maid, nonetheless I confess before you that I cannot ravage the garden of my youth, where the vein of every leaf and flower throbs with the hot blood of my unfulfilled desires. . No, not with my own hands. . though I wouldn’t mind someone else closing my eyes. . numbing up all my senses and lowering me into the deepest pit of widowhood or old age. . or with just one push hurling me off this quaking cliff of desire where I’ve stood to this day huddled against the cold, gusting wind. . I’d even allow you to do that.