All the
respectable
people of our
neighbourhood say just the same thing--that we are queer.
neighbourhood say just the same thing--that we are queer.
Tagore - Creative Unity
Yes, Dada, you may tell us, but we shan't promise to listen.
_Dada_
Here it is:
_Time is the capital of work,
And Play is its defalcation.
Play rifles the house, and then wastes its spoil,
Therefore the wise call it worse than useless. _
_Chandra_
But surely, Dada, you are talking nonsense. Time itself is Play.
Its only object is Pas-time.
_Dada_
Then what is Work?
_Chandra_
Work is the dust raised by the passing of Time.
_Dada_
Leader, you must give us your answers.
_Leader_
No. I never give answers. I lead on from one question to another.
That is my leadership.
_Dada_
Everything else has its limits, but your childishness is
absolutely unbounded.
Do you know the reason? It is because we are really nothing but
children. And everything else has its limitations except the
child.
_Dada_
Won't you ever attain Age?
No, we shall never attain Age.
We shall die old, but never attain Age.
_Chandra_
When we meet Age, we shall shave his head, and put him on a
donkey, and send him across the river.
Oh, you can save yourself the trouble of shaving his head for Age
is bald.
(_They sing_. )
_Our hair shall never turn grey,
Never.
There is no blank in this world for us, no break in our road,
It may be an illusion that we follow,
But it shall never play us false,
Never. _
(_The Leader sings_. )
_Our hair shall never turn grey,
Never.
We will never doubt the world and shut our eyes to ponder.
Never.
We will not grope in the maze of our mind.
We flow with the flood of things, from the mountain to the sea,
We will never be lost in the desert sand,
Never. _
We can tell, by his looks, that Dada will some day go to that Old
Man, to receive his lessons.
_Leader_
Which Old Man?
The Old Man of the line of Adam.
He dwells in a cave, and never thinks of dying.
_Leader_
Where did you learn about him?
Oh, every one talks about him, And it is in the books also.
_Leader_
What does he look like?
Some say he is white, like the skull of a dead man. And some say
he is dark, like the socket of a skeleton's eye.
But haven't you heard any news of him, Leader?
_Leader_
I don't believe in him at all.
Well, that goes entirely against current opinion. That Old Man is
more existent than anything else. He lives within the ribs of
creation.
According to our Pundit, it is we who have no existence. You
can't be certain whether we are, or are not.
_Chandra_
We? Oh, we are too brand new altogether. We haven't yet got our
credentials to prove that we exist.
_Leader_
Have you really gone and opened communication with the Pundits?
Why? What harm is there in that, Leader?
_Leader_
You will become pale, like the white mist in autumn. Even the
least colour of blood will disappear from your mind. I have a
suggestion.
What, Leader? What?
_Leader_
You were looking out for a play?
Yes, yes, we got quite frantic about it.
We thought it over so vigorously, that people had to run to the
King's court to lodge a complaint.
_Leader_
Well, I can suggest a play which will be new.
What? --What? --Tell us.
_Leader_
Go and capture the Old Man.
That is new, no doubt, but we very much doubt if it's a play.
_Leader_
I am sure you won't be able to do it.
Not do it? We shall.
_Leader_
No, never.
Well then, suppose we do capture him, what will you give us?
_Leader_
I shall accept you as my preceptor.
Preceptor! You want to make us grey, and cold, and old, before
our time.
_Leader_
Then, what do you want me to do?
If we capture him, then we shall take away your leadership.
_Leader_
That will be a great relief to me. You have made all my bones out
of joint already. Very well, then it's all settled?
Yes, settled. We shall bring him to you by the next full moon of
Spring.
But what are we going to do with him?
_Leader_
You shall let him join in your Spring Festival.
Oh no, that will be outrageous. Then the mango flowers will run
to seed at once.
And all the cuckoos will become owls.
And the bees will go about reciting Sanskrit verses, making the
air hum with m's and n's.
_Leader_
And your skull will be so top-heavy with prudence, that it will
be difficult for you to keep on your feet.
How awful!
_Leader_
And you will have rheumatics in all your joints.
How awful!
_Leader_
And you will become your own elder brothers, pulling your own
ears to set yourselves right.
How awful!
_Leader_
And----
No more "ands. " We are ready to surrender.
We will abandon our game of capturing the Old Man.
We will put it off till the cold weather. In this Springtime,
your company will be enough for us.
_Leader_
Ah, I see! You have already got the chill of the Old Man in your
bones.
Why? What are the symptoms?
_Leader_
You have no enthusiasm. You back out at the very start. Why
don't you make a trial?
Very well. Agreed. Come on.
Let us go after the Old Man. We will pluck him out, like a grey
hair, wherever we find him.
_Leader_
But the Old Man is an adept in the business of plucking out. His
best weapon is the hoe.
You needn't try to frighten us like that. When we are out for
adventure, we must leave behind all fears, all quatrains, all
Pundits, and all Scriptures.
(_They sing_. )
_We are out on our way
And we fear not the Robber, the Old Man.
Our path is straight, it is broad,
Our burden is light, for our pocket is bare,
Who can rob us of our folly?
For us there is no rest, nor ease, nor praise, nor success,
We dance in the measure of fortune's rise and fall,
We play our game, or win or lose,
And we fear not the Robber. _
ACT II
SONG-PRELUDE
[_Spring's Heralds try to rob Winter of his outfit of age. _]
_Rear stage lighted up, disclosing Old Winter teased by the boys
and girls representing Spring's Heralds. _
SONG OF THE HERALDS OF SPRING
_We seek our playmates,
Waking them up from all corners before it is morning.
We call them in bird songs,
Beckon them in nodding branches.
We spread our spell for them in the splendour of clouds. _
_We laugh at solemn Death
Till he joins in our laughter.
We tear open Time's purse,
Taking back his plunder from him.
You shall lose your heart to us, O Winter.
It will gleam in the trembling leaves
And break into flowers. _
SONG OF WINTER
_Leave me, let me go.
I sail for the bleak North, for the peace of the frozen shore.
Your laughter is untimely, my friends.
You turn my farewell tunes into the welcome song of the Newcomer,
And all things draw me back again into the dancing ring of their
hearts. _
SONG OF THE HERALDS OF SPRING
_Life's spies are we, lurking in ambush everywhere.
We wait to rob you of your last savings of withered hours to scatter
them in the wayward winds.
We shall bind you in flower chains where Spring keeps his captives,
For we know you carry your jewels of youth hidden in your grey rags. _
(_Noon_)
[_The rear stage is darkened. The band of Youths enters on the
main stage. No actual change in the scenery is necessary--this
being left to the imagination of the audience. _]
Ferryman! Ferryman! Open your door.
_Ferryman_
What do you want?
We want the Old Man.
_Ferryman_
Which old man?
Not which old man. We want _the_ Old Man.
_Ferryman_
Who is he?
The true and original Old Man.
_Ferryman_
Oh! I understand. What do you want him for?
For our Spring Festival.
_Ferryman_
For your Spring Festival? Are you become mad?
Not a sudden becoming. We have been like this from the beginning.
And we shall go on like this to the end.
(_They sing. _)
_The Piper pipes in the centre, hidden from sight.
And we become frantic, we dance.
The March wind, seized with frenzy,
Runs and reels, and sways with noisy branches.
The sun and stars are drawn in the whirl of rapture. _
Now, Ferryman, give us news of the Old Man.
You ply your boat from one landing stage to another. Surely you
know where----
_Ferryman_
My business is limited only to the path. But whose path it is,
and what it means, I have no occasion to enquire. For my goal is
the landing-stage, not the house.
Very well. Let us go, let us try all the ways. _(They sing. )_
_The Piper pipes in the centre, hidden from sight.
Ah, the turbulent tune, to whose time the oceans dance,
And dance our heaving hearts.
Fling away all burdens and cares, brother,
Do not be doubtful of your path,
For the path wakes up of itself
Under the dancing steps of freedom. _
_Ferryman_
There comes the Watchman. Ask him. I know about the way; but he
knows about the wayfarers.
_Watchman_
Who are you?
We are just what you see. That's our only description.
_Watchman_
But what do you want?
We want the Old Man.
_Watchman_
Which old man?
That eternal Old Man.
_Watchman_
How absurd! While you are seeking him, he is after you.
Why?
_Watchman_
He is fond of warming his cold blood with the wine of hot youth.
We'll give him a warm enough reception. All we want is to see
him. Have you seen him?
_Watchman_
My watch is at night. I see my people, but don't know their
features. But, look here, every one knows that he is the great
kidnapper; and you want to kidnap him! It's midsummer madness.
The secret is out. It doesn't take long to discover that we are
mad.
_Watchman_
I am the Watchman. The people I see passing along the road are
all very much alike. Therefore, when I see anything queer, it
always strikes me.
Just listen to him.
All the respectable people of our
neighbourhood say just the same thing--that we are queer.
Yes, we're queer. There's no mistake about that.
_Watchman_
But all this is utter childishness.
Do you hear that? It's exactly what our Dada says.
We have been going on with our childishness through unremembered
ages.
And now we have become confirmed children.
And we have a leader, who is a perfect veteran in childhood. He
rushes along so recklessly, that he drops off his age at every
step he runs.
_Watchman_
And who are you?
We are butterflies, freed from the cocoon of Age.
_Watchman_
[_Aside. _] Mad. Raving mad.
_Ferryman_
Then what will you all do now?
_Chandra_
We shall go----
_Watchman_
Where?
_Chandra_
That we haven't decided.
_Watchman_
You have decided to go, but not where to go?
_Chandra_
Yes, that will be settled as we go along.
_Watchman_
What does that mean?
_Chandra_
It means this song.
(_They sing. _)
_We move and move without rest,
We move while the wanderers' stars shine in the sky and fade.
We play the tune of the road
While our limbs scatter away the laughter of movement,
And our many-coloured mantle of youth flutters about in the air. _
_Watchman_
Is it your custom to answer questions by songs?
_Chandra_
Yes, otherwise the answer becomes too unintelligible.
_Watchman_
Then you think your songs intelligible?
_Chandra_
Yes, quite, because they contain music. (_They sing. _)
_We move and move without rest.
World, the Rover, loves his comrades of the road.
His call comes across the sky.
The seasons lead the way, strewing the path with flowers. _
_Watchman_
No ordinary being ever breaks out singing, like this, in the
middle of talking.
_Chandra_
Again we are found out. We are no ordinary beings.
_Watchman_
Have you got no work to do?
_Chandra_
No, we are on a holiday.
_Watchman_
Why?
_Chandra_
Lest our time should all be wasted.
_Watchman_
I don't quite understand you.
_Chandra_
Then we shall be obliged to sing again.
_Watchman_
No, no. There's no need to do that. I don't hope to understand
you any better, even if you do sing.
_Chandra_
Everybody has given up the hope of understanding us.
_Watchman_
But how can things get on with you, if you behave like this?
_Chandra_
Oh, there's no need for things to get on with us, so long as we
ourselves get on.
_Watchman_
Mad! Quite mad! Raving mad!
_Chandra_
Why, here comes our Dada.
Dada, what made you lag behind?
_Chandra_
Don't you know? We are free as the wind, because we have no
substance in us. But Dada is like the rain-cloud of August. He
must stop, every now and then, to unburden himself.
_Dada_
Who are you?
_Ferryman_
I am the Ferryman.
_Dada_
And who are you?
_Watchman_
I am the Watchman.
_Dada_
I am delighted to see you. I want to read you something that I
have written. It contains nothing frivolous, but only the most
important lessons.
_Ferryman_
Very good. Let us have it then.
_Watchman_
Our master used to tell us that there are plenty of men to say
good things, but very few to listen. That requires strength of
mind. Now, go on, Sir, go on.
_Dada_
I saw, in the street, one of the King's officers dragging along a
merchant. The King had made up a false charge, in order to get
his money. This gave me an inspiration. You must know that I
never write a single line which is not inspired by some actual
fact. You can put my verses to the test in the open streets and
markets----
_Ferryman_
Please, Sir, do let us hear what you have written.
_Dada_
_The sugar-cane filling itself with juice
Is chewed and sucked dry by all beggars.
O foolish men, take your lesson from this;
Those trees are saved, which are fruitful. _
You will understand that the sugar-cane gets into trouble, simply
because it tries to keep its juice. But nobody is so foolish as
to kill the tree that freely gives fruit.
_Watchman_
What splendid writing, Ferryman!
_Ferryman_
Yes, Watchman, it contains great lessons for us.
_Watchman_
It gives me food for thought. If only I had here our neighbour,
the Scribe! I should like to take this down. Do send round to
tell the people of the place to assemble.
_Chandra_
But, Ferryman, you promised to come out with us. Yet, if once
Dada begins to quote his quatrains, there will be----
_Ferryman_
Go along with you. None of your madness here. We are fortunate
now in having met our master. Let us improve the occasion with
good words. We are all of us getting old. Who knows when we shall
die?
All the more reason why you should cultivate our company.
_Chandra_
You can always find another Dada. But when once we are dead, God
will never repeat the blunder of another absurdity like us again.
(_Enter Oilman. _)
_Oilman_
Ho! Watchman.
_Watchman_
Who is there? Is that the Oilman?
_Oilman_
The child I was bringing up was kidnapped last night.
_Watchman_
By whom?
_Oilman_
By the Old Man.
_Youths_
[_Together. _] Old Man? You don't mean it. Old Man?
_Oilman_
Yes, Sirs, the Old Man; what makes you so glad?
Oh, that's a bad habit of ours. We become glad for no reason
whatever.
_Watchman_
[_Aside. _] Mad! Raving mad! Have you seen the Old Man?
_Oilman_
I think I saw him in the distance last night.
_First Youth_
What did he look like?
_Oilman_
Black. More black than our brother here, the Watchman. Black as
night, with two eyes on his breast shining like two glow-worms.
That won't suit us. That would be awkward for our Spring
Festival.
_Chandra_
We shall have to change our date from the full moon to the dark
moon. For the dark moon has no end of eyes on her breast.
_Watchman_
But I warn you, my friends, you are not doing wisely.
No, we are not.
We are found out again. We never do anything wisely. It is
contrary to our habit.
_Watchman_
Do you take this to be a joke? I warn you, my friends, it is
dangerous.
Dangerous? That's the best joke of all.
(_They sing. _)
_We are neither too good nor wise,
That is all the merit we have.
Our calumny spreads from land to land,
And danger dogs our steps.
We take great care to forget what is taught us,
We say things different from the book,
Bringing upon us trouble,
And rebuke from the learned. _
_Watchman_
Ah, Sir, you spoke about some Leader. Where is he? He could have
kept you in order, if he were with you.
He never stays with us, lest he should have to keep us in order.
He simply launches us on our way, and then slips off.
_Watchman_
That's a poor idea of leadership.
_Chandra_
He is never concerned about his leadership. That is why we
recognize him as our Leader.
_Watchman_
Then he has got a very easy task.
_Chandra_
It is no easy task to lead men. But it is easy enough to drive
them.
(_They sing. _)
_We are not too good nor wise,
That is all the merit we have.
In a luckless moment we were born,
When the star of wisdom was the dimmest.
We can hope for no profit from our adventures,
We move on, because we must. _
Dada, come on. Let us go.
_Watchman_
No, no, Sir. Don't you get yourself into mischief in their
company.
_Ferryman_
You read your verses, Sir, to us. Our neighbours will be here
soon. They will be greatly profited.
_Dada_
No. I'm not going to move a step from here.
Then let us move. The men in the street can't bear us.
That's because we rattle them too much.
You hear the hum of human bees, they smell the honey of Dada's
quatrains.
_Youths_
[_Together. _] They come! They come!
(_Enter Village folk. _)
_Villager_
Is it true that there is going to be a reading?
Who are you? Are _you_ going to read?
No. We commit all kinds of atrocities, but not that. This one
merit will bring us salvation.
_Villager_
What do they say? They seem to be talking in riddles.
_Chandra_
We only say things which we perfectly understand ourselves, and
they are riddles to you. Dada repeats to you things which you
understand perfectly and these sound to you the very essence of
wisdom.
(_Boy enters. _)
_Boy_
I couldn't catch him.
Whom?
_Boy_
The Old Man, whom you are seeking.
Have you seen him?
_Boy_
Yes, I thought I saw him going by in a car.
Where? In what direction?
_Boy_
I couldn't make out exactly. The dust raised by his wheels is
still whirling in the air.
Then let us go.
He has filled the sky with dead leaves.
[_They go out. _
_Watchman_
They are mad! Quite mad! Raving mad!
ACT III
SONG-PRELUDE
[_Winter is being unmasked--his hidden youth about to be
disclosed. _]
_The rear stage lighted up, disclosing Winter and the Heralds of
Spring. _
SONG OF THE HERALDS OF SPRING
_How grave he looks, how laughably old,
How solemnly quiet among death preparations!
Come, friends, help him to find himself before he reaches home.
Change his pilgrim's robe into the dress of the singing youth,
Snatch away his bag of dead things
And confound his calculations. _
(_Another group sings. _)
_The time comes when the world shall know that you're not banished in
your own shadows;
Your heart shall burst in torrents
Out of the clasp of the ice;
And your North wind turn its face
Against the haunts of the flitting phantoms.
