Finding the Calling

A play of sorts in one act

Narrator: Ladies and gentlemen, attention please, A red digital clock at Howrah station platform no.3 showed 4:29; the diabolical figure resonated through his mind, as missing the 4:30 local….oh the horror! He dragged his over-exhausted right leg amidst the sea of people and managed to somehow scamper into the much dreaded first compartment.

Boy: Phew! That was so close!

Narrator: His momentary inflated ego was crushed immediately by a nonchalant hawker who shrugged him off as if he wasn’t there.

Boy: Heyy! Can’t you see me? Huh?

Narrator: No brother, you’re John Cena. (pause) Just as he had managed a decent standing place, saw something very odd lurking in a general compartment, (bold sarcastic voice) two young ladies (yay!).

Boy: Oh crap! She is looking at me!

Girl1: Umm…will the train stop at konnagar?

Boy (blabbering): Well! The train, madam, stops at every station but you know, the journey never ends.

Just like love, it goes on and on and on…

Girl1: stupid! (aside)

Boy: (to the audience)

Forget trains!

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in love, must say yes to everything at first. And…I think…yes, I am in Love.

Narrator: She was not the one for the poets and it was exactly that which made everything so poetic.

Girl1 (to Girl2): Why is he being so weird?

Girl2 (smiles while looking at the boy through the corner of her eye; speaks distractedly): What do YOU think? … well, you should know!

Girl1: NO, I mean..umm …wait! What do you mean by that?

Girl2: Ummm… nothing.. well, I prefer speaking in innuendoes you know!

Girl1: INNUENDOES???   Ughhh!! You and your “MILLS AND BOONS”!

Narrator: The switch my friend is ON!

Girl1: No INNUENDOS and for your kind information No Love Story here..

Girl2: By the way… When did I say it’s a LOVE story? Huh?

Boy (sudden excitement and despair): Oh GOD! I can’t find my phone! (to Girl1; panting) Excuse me! Can you please give me a missed call?

Girl2(whispers): Ahem! Ahem! Divine intervention you see…

Boy: Well, yeah… I do understand it’s awkward for you, please help me out here…

Girl1: Why do you think brother I will help you? Do you think I’m a nun in some Cathedral ready to help everyone?

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Boy (whispers): What! Brother!
(aloud): Okay, sorry to brother you… I mean to bother you… wait! Why should I be sorry? A nun is never bothered anyway. After all, she’s the harbinger of love.

Girl2: Whoa!.. is something on fire? Or someone diss-appointed?

Narrator: On hitting call after moments of reluctant dialling… the compartment was instantly graced by the tunes of “Can’t Help falling in Love”, thanks to the Chinese speakers! (pause) After few moments of rampant rummaging, our boy discovers his device, lying below a seat and picks up in the blink of an eye.

Boy: Thanks… (whispers) It is truly said that one can never predict them… (pause) Okay, sorry, don’t mind…

Narrator: She smiles away with her friend on another side of the compartment; leaving the boy red-faced. Thank god for the climax, that was one intensely boring narration! So, ladies and gentlemen, that was our—-

Girl2 (interrupts the narrator): Hey, narrator! You didn’t tell the full story?

Narrator: What story? My script ends here!

*gestures “she is crazy” to the audience*

Girl2 (to the audience; *Girl1 and Boy high-fives*): Allow me to finish it then, and take you all into the future (points at Girl1 while she hides her face)you know “A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.” Well, what started as a mutual admiration laced with scorn has ended with the two smiling.

Narrator: What are you talking about?

Girl2: Can’t you see the mutual glimmer in their eyes? The glimmer of happiness

Narrator: Happiness! A thing which started as an act of incivility has culminated otherwise? Really!

Boy: See sometimes even a simple start can…

Girl1: …lead to a story!

Boy: (to the audience):

Well, everything said and done,

I hope you had much fun;

I would now like to conclude by saying this—

So as to leave you all in bliss:

You might as now well think, that I had kept the phone there on purpose…..

Well….. Did I?

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-FIN-

 

This was performed as a closet drama by the SA Jaipuria team at Shri Shikshayatan College.

It is inspired by Com Partment:  https://thepenarchist.wordpress.com/2017/08/23/com-partment/

, originally written by Samya Brata Roy.

However, it was adapted for the performance by a lot of people:

Samya Brata Roy

Srija Chakraborty

Susmita Roy Chaudhuri

Shreya Banerjee

Chandrani Sanyal

and last but not the least

Mr Bimal Chakraborty or as we lovingly call him Bimal sir.

We enjoyed working on it so much that we even plan to release a video of it in the near future.

image courtesies

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https://goo.gl/pC4jU7

 

 

 

 

 

 

Com partment.

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A red digital clock at Howrah station platform no.3 showed 4:29; the diabolical figure resonated through my mind as missing the 4:30 local would surely have been fatal. I dragged my over-exhausted right leg amidst the sea of people and managed to somehow scamper into the much dreaded first compartment. My momentary inflated ego was crushed immediately by a nonchalant “Murshidabad er gamcha” seller who shrugged me off by a very courteous “dada shorun”. Just as I had managed a decent standing place, I saw something very odd lurking in a general local train compartment, a young lady (yay!).

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As fate might have had it, she was directly looking at me(now that doesn’t happen), only to ask me if the train would stop at Konnagar (such a romance killer). A nod came in reflex.

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She was not the one for the poets and it was exactly that which made everything so poetic.

The tired train moved with a grunt and slacked like a baby to school. She couldn’t find the perfect posture in the overcrowded compartment and kept turning; new to “daily passenger-i” I thought. With every turn, it seemed she stole one glance here and another glance there as if it opened up different facets to her.

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I, the skilled playboy that I am, remained silent and observed the proceedings in awe. Her protruding rucksack hit me sometimes as a reminder from my inner Barney Stinson to start up a conversation. I did, in my head of course as the hawker raved on about his “quality cotton maal” in the background.

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I don’t know if it was fact or fiction, but after a few moments, I saw her conversing with another guy. A flurry of emotions wrapped around my brain as if to make folly out of my failures. I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry.

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There was nothing romantic, or there was I don’t know! But at that very moment, I realised what could have been! There are so many people, we don’t know, who could have been so much more, if only…

I didn’t know if she knew him or she did not (please be the former), honestly I don’t care! She was all smiles and so was he.

Is this a tale of love lost or stalking gained I don’t know. But what I do know is that trillion tales have been told of this style but very few are actually experienced.

Everything it seems stopped that day, for them, for me; except the train, which wasn’t supposed to stop at Konnagar (which I remembered after getting down at Bally).

What have I done! What have I done! What have I done!

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Image courtesies

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