The post office (Part 3)

Act 3

Amal is in bed
Amal:	Pishemoshai, can’t I even sit beside the window? Has the doctor asked me not to?
Madhab Datta:	Yes, baba, he has. Your condition has turned worse because you have been sitting there all day.
Amal:	No, pishemoshai, no. Please! I don’t know what is bad for me, but I feel much better when I am there.
Madhab Datta:	Sitting there, you have made friends with so many people, young and old. The place in front of our house has turned into a fairground. Can that be good for your health? You look so pale today.
Amal:	Pishemoshai, my fakir won’t find me by the window, and he may go away.
Madhab Datta:	Who is this holy man?
Amal:	He is the one who comes to see me every day and tells me stories from different places. I love listening to his stories.
Madhab Datta:	But I don’t know of any fakir around this place.
Amal:	He comes around this time. Please pishemoshai, I beg, please go and tell him, he must come to my room and spend some time with me.
Grandfather enters, dressed as a fakir
Amal:	Please come in fakir, please ….
Madhab Datta:	Oh! Who is this? Aren’t you …
Grandfather:	[Winks] A fakir.
Madhab Datta:	If only I knew what you aren’t!
Grandfather:	I had been to the Island of Cranes; I came back just a while ago.
Amal:	The Island of Cranes?
Grandfather:	Does that surprise you? Do you think I am just like you? I can travel anywhere for free. I can go wherever I wish to
Amal:	[Claps] How lucky you are! You promised to take me as your disciple, didn’t you?
Grandfather:	Of course, I did! I’ll teach you a magic for travelling. With that, you’ll be able to go wherever you like, to the mountains, forests or the seas, no one can stop you.
Madhab Datta:	What kind of madness is this?
Grandfather:	Amal dear, the mountains and seas are on the palm of my hands, but even my magic would fail if your pishemoshai teamed up with the doctor.
Amal:	No, pishemoshai, please don’t. Please don’t say anything to the doctor – the day I’m fit, I’ll go away … I will go even beyond the mountains, rivers and oceans!
Madhab Datta:	No, my son, please don’t talk of going away all the time. It makes me sad.
Amal:	Fakir, please tell me all about the Island of Cranes.
Grandfather:	Oh! It is such a wonderful place! It’s a land of birds – there are no humans on the island. They don’t talk or walk, they only warble and fly around.
Amal:	How beautiful! Is it by the side of a sea?
Grandfather:	Of course, it is.
Amal:	And are there blue mountains on the island?
Grandfather:	The birds build their nests only in the blue mountains. In the evening, the setting sun lights up the hills, and flock after flock of green birds fly back to their nests … the colour of the birds smudges into the colour of the sky … it looks so gorgeous!
Amal:	Do streams flow down the mountain slopes?
Grandfather:	Of course, they do! How can there be a mountain without water falls? The water is like liquid diamonds, and what a dance she dances. As she strikes the pebbles, you can hear a murmuring music; and she cascades down the mountain slope to rush into the sea. No doctor can keep her quiet even for a moment. If the birds didn’t ignore me and kept me away because I am only a human, I too would have built a nest among their thousands of nests beside the mountain streams, and spent my days watching the sea waves.
Amal:	If I were a bird …
Grandfather:	There would have been a big problem. I have heard you told the Yogurt vendor you wanted to sell curds when you grew up? I don’t think you would have done good business among birds. You might have ended up in loss.
Madhab Datta:	I can’t take it any more. Even I would go crazy if I listened to you for some more time. I must go.
Amal:	Has my yogurt vendor gone away?
Madhab Datta:	Yes, he has, most certainly. After all, he can’t make a living if he follows your amateur fakir to the bird’s nests in the Island of Cranes. He has left a pot of curd for you. He told me, there is a wedding in his village, his niece is getting married. He was going to Kalmipara to place orders for some flutes, he was busy.
Amal:	But he promised he would get his youngest niece married to me.
Grandfather:	Then it is very bad!
Amal:	He told me, I would have a lovely little wife – she would have a ring in her nose and wear a red striped sari. She herself would milk a black cow in the morning and give me foaming milk in a new earthen pot; in the evening, she would come back after lighting a diya in the cowshed and tell me the story of Parul and her seven Champa brothers.
Grandfather:	Bah, bah! What a lovely wife! Even a fakir like me feels tempted. But baba, don’t you worry. Let this niece get married. I assure you, there will be no shortage of nieces when you want to marry.
Madhab Datta:	This is too much! I must go.
Madhav Datta leaves.
Amal:	Pishemoshai has left. Now tell me confidentially, has the letter from the raja reached our post office?
Grandfather:	I’ve heard the raja has sent you a letter, it’s on the way.
Amal:	On the way? Which way? Is someone bringing it along the path through the dense forest far away, the path that can be seen only when the sky clears up after a shower?
Grandfather:	You seem to know everything. Someone is indeed bringing it along that path.
Amal:	I know everything, fakir.
Grandfather:	I can see that, but how do you know?
Amal:	I don’t know how. It’s as if I can see everything before my eyes … I feel I’ve seen it many a time, long, long ago, I don’t know how long. Shall I tell you? I can see the king’s postman walking down a mountain path – he has a lantern in his left hand and a sackful of letters on his right shoulder. He’s been walking down the mountain through days and nights. After crossing the point where the stream ends at the foothills, he’s been walking beside the meandering river … beside the river is a cornfield; he’s been walking along a narrow alley through that field … and then he comes to the sugarcane field bordered by a high ridge on one side … he’s walking on and on … along the ridge … through days and nights, he has been walking, all alone. Crickets are chirping in the cane field – there is no one on the river bank, only a few snipes are strutting around swinging their tails … I can see it all. My mind fills with happiness as I watch him.
Grandfather:	My eyes are not as youthful as yours, but I too can see him along with you
Amal:	Fakir, do you know the king who has set up the post office?
Grandfather:	Yes, I do. I go to his doors every day with my begging bowl.
Amal:	That should be nice. When I get well, I too will go to him with my begging bowls. Will anyone stop me?
Grandfather:	Baba, you won’t have to beg. He will give you on his own whatever he wants to.
Amal:	No, no. I would stand before his palace and shout, “Long live the King!” and dance around, playing the tambourine. Won’t it be great?
Grandfather:	Yes, it would be great. And if I went with you, I too would get enough to fill my stomach. But what would you beg for?
Amal:	I’d tell him, ‘Please make me a postman. I’ll go from house to house carrying a torch, delivering your letters.’ Do you know fakir, someone has promised me, when I get well, he would teach me how to beg. I will go with him, begging, wherever I like.
Grandfather:	Who told you so?
Amal:	Chidam.
Grandfather:	Which Chidam?
Amal:	The beggar, who can neither see nor walk. He comes to my window every day. He sits in a pushcart and a small boy of my age takes him around, pushing the cart. I have told him, when I am all right, I will push his cart and take him wherever he wants to go.
Grandfather:	I think that would be good fun.
Amal:	He is the one who promised to teach me how to beg. I requested pishemoshai to give him something. But he says Chidam is actually neither blind nor lame. Okay, he may not be really blind, but isn’t it a fact that he cannot see?
Grandfather:	You are absolutely right. The only real thing about him is that he cannot see, whether you call him blind or not. But why does he come to you if he doesn’t get anything?
Amal:	I talk to him about people and places. Poor thing, he can’t see! I talk to him about your adventures. You told me about a place where everything is light, where nothing is heavy – where one can jump over a hill with just a little effort: he was so happy to hear about the place. But tell me fakir, how does one go there?
Grandfather:	There is a path through the inside, but it may not be easy to find.
Amal:	The poor fellow is blind, perhaps he would never see light; he’ll have to go around begging. He was unhappy about it, but I told him, ‘You travel to so many places, not everyone can do that.’
Grandfather:	Baba, should one be unhappy about sitting at home either?
Amal:	No, no, I am not unhappy. In the beginning, when I was asked not to go out, the days never seemed to end. But since I started watching the king’s post office, I enjoy sitting at home. Just the thought that I’ll get a letter one day makes me happy. I can stay at home quietly. But I don’t know what message the letter would carry.
Grandfather:	Even if you don’t know, it matters little. At least, your name will be written on the envelope, shouldn’t that be enough?
Madhab Datta enters
Madhab Datta:	What a problem the two of you to have created!
Grandfather:	Why, what’s happened?
Madhab Datta:	I hear you’ve been spreading words that the king has set up the post office only to send letters to the two of you?
Grandfather:	What’s wrong about that?
Madhab Datta:	Our headman, Panchanan has sent an anonymous letter to the king complaining against you.
Grandfather:	Don’t we know that everything gets reported to the king?
Madhab Datta:	Then why don’t you behave with restraint? Why talk foolishly about rajas and badshas? Even I will get into trouble because of you!
Amal:	Fakir, do you think the king will be angry?
Grandfather:	Is it so easy? He would be angry! Ha! Let me see how angry he can be. Let me see how he manages to rule the country being angry with a fakir like me and a child like you.
Amal:	Do you know fakir, since this morning, everything before my eyes is turning dark. It’s as if I am in a daze. I feel like sitting quietly, I don’t want to talk. Will the raja’s letter never arrive? If at this moment, this house vanishes, if …
Grandfather:	[Fanning Amal] The letter will arrive, it will certainly arrive today.
The doctor enters
Doctor:	How do you feel today?
Amal:	Kavirajmoshai, I feel much better today. I feel all my pain is gone.
Doctor:	[Speaking aside, to Madhav Datta] I don’t like the smile on his face. The fact that he says he feels better is an ominous sign. Our Chakradhar Datta said, …
Madhab Datta:	For heaven’s sake, kavirajmoshai, let’s not talk about Chakradhar Datta. Please tell me what exactly the situation is.
Doctor:	We may not be able to save him. I recommended against it, but it seems he’s been exposed to the breeze blowing in from the open.
Madhab Datta:	It is not true, kavirajmoshai. I have taken every care of him. I don’t allow him to go out. And the door is kept shut most of the time.
Doctor:	Suddenly, a strange wind has started blowing today. I noticed: a draught is coming in through your main entrance. It’s bad. Shut the door well and secure it with a lock. Let no one come into your house for some time. If anyone has to come in, use the back door. And the light of the setting sun streaming in through the window – it tends to keep patients awake. Please shut the window too.
Madhab Datta:	Amal’s eyes are firmly shut, perhaps he is sleeping. Kavirajmoshai, as I see him, I think I brought home a stranger, loved him, but perhaps I won’t be able to keep him any longer.
Doctor:	What’s this? The headman is coming towards your house. What a nuisance! Let me go. But please do secure the door immediately. I’ll send a toxic pill as soon as I go home. Perhaps only poison can save him now!
Madhav Datta and the doctor leave. / The headman enters.
Headman:	Hey, you brat!
Grandfather:	[Getting up quickly] Please, please don’t talk so loudly.
Amal:	No fakir, you thought I was sleeping, but I wasn’t. I have been listening to everything. I feel I can hear words spoken far, far away. I feel my ma and baba are standing beside me and talking in whispers.
Madhab Datta enters
Headman:	Madhav Datta! These days, you have strung up relationship with big people!
Madhab Datta:	What are you saying, Morolmoshai? Please do not make fun of us. We are ordinary people without pretensions.
Headman:	But this boy of yours, he has been waiting for a letter from the king!
Madhab Datta:	After all, he is only a child. And he is crazy. Should you take him seriously?
Headman:	No, no! There is nothing surprising about it. Where else will the king find a more suitable family? Don’t you see, for this reason, he has set up a new post office right before your house! And you brat! Indeed there is a letter for you from the king!
Amal:	[Starting] Truly?
Headman:	How can it be untrue? After all, aren’t you a good friend of the king? [Handing over a blank sheet of paper] Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! This is his letter.
Amal:	Please don’t make fun of me. Fakir, please tell me, is this really his letter?
Grandfather:	Yes Amal, a fakir can’t be wrong; I am telling you, this really is a letter from the raja.
Amal:	But I can’t see anything on this. Everything has turned white before my eyes. Morolmoshai, please tell me what’s written on this.
Headman:	He has written, “I am going to your house within a day or two. I’d love to have a bowl of puffed rice at your place. I can’t stand the palace any more, can’t stay here for one more minute.” Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Madhab Datta:	[With folded hands] Morolmoshai, for heaven’s sake, please don’t make fun of us like this.
Grandfather:	Fun? What fun? Can he afford to make fun?
Madhab Datta:	Ah! Grandfather, have you too gone crazy?
Grandfather:	Yes, I’ve gone crazy. And that’s why I can see letters on this blank sheet of paper. The raja has written that he himself is coming to see Amal, and he is bringing along his the royal physician too.
Amal:	Yes, fakir, there! I can hear his bugles and trumpets, can’t you hear them, Fakir?
Headman:	Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! He has to become a little more senile before he can hear them.
Amal:	Morolmoshai, I used to think you were angry with me, you didn’t love me. I really didn’t believe that you brought a letter for me from the raja. Please let me touch your feet.
Headman:	Indeed, this boy is respectful. Although he has no brains, he is a good soul.
Amal:	It must be evening by now. There goes the gong. Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Has the evening star come out, Fakir? Why can’t I see her?
Grandfather:	They have shut the windows. I’ll open them.
Loud knocks on the main door
Madhab Datta:	What’s this? Who is it? What nuisance!
Voice from outside:	Open the door!
Madhab Datta:	Morolmoshai, are they robbers?
Headman:	Who is it? I am the headman, Panchanan! Don’t you value your life? See, they have stopped banging. Even robbers are scared of Panchanan’s voice.
Madhab Datta:	[Looking out of the window] They’ve broken the door, they don’t have to knock any more.
The king’s emissary enters.
Emissary:	The Maharaja will arrive tonight.
Hmn:	What a disaster!
Amal:	[to the king’s emissary] At what time in the night, Sir, at what time?
Emissary:	At midnight tonight.
Amal:	When my friend, the guard will ring the bell at the main gate of our city: ding-dong, ding-dong! Then?
Emissary:	Yes, then. The raja has sent his senior-most physician to see his young friend.
The Royal physician enters.
R. Physician:	What is this? Why have you shut all the windows? Please open them. Open all the doors and windows. [Feeling Amal’s temperature] Baba, how do you feel now?
Amal:	I am fine, Kavirajmoshai, I am fine. I am not ill anymore, I have no pain. Ah! You have opened the windows … I can see the stars, the stars beyond darkness.
R. Physician:	When the king arrives at midnight, will you be able to leave your bed and go with him?
Amal:	Yes, I will. I will be able to go. I am dying to go out. I will ask the raja, ‘Please show me the polestar.’ I must have seen it many a time, but I cannot recognise it.
R. Physician:	He will show you everything. [To Madhab] Please tidy up this room and arrange some flowers for him. [Turning towards the headman] This person must leave the room.
Amal:	No, no, Kavirajmoshai, he is a friend of mine. He is the one who brought me a letter from the raja before you arrived.
R. Physician:	All right, baba. Since he is your friend, he can stay here.
Madhab Datta:	[Whispering into Amal’s ears] Baba, the king is fond of you, he’s coming in person, please ask for something from him. You know, we aren’t well off.
Amal:	I have already decided about it, please don’t worry Pishemoshai.
Madhav Datta:	What will you ask from the king?
Amal:	I’ll ask him to make me a postman in his post office. I’ll go around the country delivering his letters.
Madhav Datta:	[Hitting himself on the forehead] Oh! What a shame!
Amal:	Pishemoshai, the raja is coming. What shall we offer him?
Emissary:	He has asked me to tell you, he’ll have puffed rice in your place.
Amal:	Puffed rice? Morolmoshai, you said it! You knew everything about the king, and we had no idea at all!
Headman:	Shall we send someone to my house … let’s get something special for him …
R. Physician:	You don’t have to. All of you must calm down. I will sit beside this child – he is drifting into sleep. Turn off the lamps. Let the stars light up this room. He is sleeping.
Grandfather:	Keep quiet, you unbeliever. Do not talk.
Sudha enters
Sudha:	Amal!
R. Physician:	He has fallen asleep.
Sudha:	I have brought a flower for him. Can I give it to him?
R. Physician:	Yes, you can. Please do.
Sudha:	When will he wake up?
R. Physician:	Very soon, when the king wakes him up.
Sudha:	Will you please give him a message when he wakes up?
R. Physician:	What’s the message?
Sudha:	Please tell him, ‘Sudha hasn’t forgotten you.’