Translated play: Rajat must deal with an honest, ailing playwright and a sanctimonious civil servant

Rehearsal room.

Rajiv: Have you read the new play? Did you like it?

Mahendra: Yes, I read it. I was suddenly a child again, a child grappling with a dictionary. God, the language! A flood of words, a veritable flood. It will drown us. And the audience too.

Kanta: I read it twice. I didn’t even understand the subject.

Mahendra: That’s because you’re beautiful.

Kanta: What is that supposed to mean?

Mahendra: Beautiful women are generally stupid. Beauty and brains seldom go together.

Kanta: Watch your step. You’re the limit!

Mahendra: It was God who crossed all limits in the making of you. Anyway, who are we to like or dislike the subject? The director liked the play. That’s it. We are toys, mechanical toys. Kaul Saahab will turn the key. And we will mouth our lines.

Rajiv: Boss, are you an actor or a critic? The critics either murder the writer or declare him a genius; no middle ground. I know that writers are a little more idealistic than is strictly necessary. But there’s definitely something in this play.

Mahendra: What?

Rajiv: No idea. I haven’t got it yet.

Mahendra: And you won’t get it either. The age of idealism has passed. But the characters in this play are all committed to their...

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