Wedding Album
Wedding Album
Wedding Album
00:01 03:33
Scenes One and Five are continuous and take place about three years after the
rest of the play.
A screen on which we see Vidula in close-up, speaking directly to the
camera. She is extremely self-conscious and ill-at-ease. Every now and then
she is interrupted by the person handling the camera, which happens to be
ohit. We only hear his voice, but do not see him on the screen.
VIDULA:I am Vidula. Vidula Nadkarni. I am twenty-two. Twenty-two
and a half, actually. I have done my BA in Geography. Passed my
exams last year. I am not doing anything at the moment. Worked
for a travel agency for six months.
(Stops. Looks at Rohit.)
I got bored. If I come to the US, will I need to work? I am really not
very good at it.
ROHIT (offscreen): Why don’t you smile a bit? Look cheerful.
VIDULA: Am I looking depressed?
ROHIT(offscreen): No. No. But cheer up. Look happy. Shall we start
again?
VIDULA (aghast): Again? Absolutely not. This is the third time.
ROHIT(offscreen): I know. But remember, you are trying to show your
best face to him.
VIDULA: I am not. I just want him to know what I am like.
ROHIT Document
(offscreen): But don’t go out of your way to 6 pages
make yourself
unattractive.
GEO212 Response 8
Arbaz Sabir
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No ratings yet
(Pause.)
Dangerous Delayfinal
VIDULA
Oluwaseun
(visibly upset, speaks directly into the camera) : I am Jonathan
not glamorous,
as you can see. I am not exceptional in any way. No ratings
I don’t yet
want you
to be disappointed later.
(The camera swings away from her, showing a corner of the living room at
some lopsided angle.)
ROHIT (offscreen): Look, we can’t possibly send this tape to him. He is …
VIDULA (offscreen, angry): I am not going to reshoot. Let’s just continue.
Ebook 36 pages
This is how I am. You know I won’t be any better in the next take.
I’ll be worse. Make worse mistakes. Passing For Hot
ROHIT (offscreen): All right. It’s your life. Kalika
(The camera comes back to Vidula. There has been no interruption in the
No ratings yet
shooting.)
VIDULA (to Rohit): What do I talk about now?
ROHIT (offscreen): Tell him about our family. He knows already, but you
tell him.
VIDULA (to the camera): My father was a doctor in the government
service. We are three of us. Eldest sister Hema is married and lives
in Australia. Then Rohit, who is shooting this film. He is a writer—
writes stories and scripts for teleplays. Then there’s me. Rohit is the
smartest of us all.
(Looks at Rohit and giggles.)
At least he thinks so.
(Rohit tut-tuts.)
Of course, Hema and I don’t agree.
(Giggles. Suddenly serious.)
Apparently there was another brother between Hema and Rohit.
He was retarded. Mentally. Don’t know what he died of.
ROHIT (offscreen): Listen! Are you trying to impress him or scare him
off?
VIDULA (to Rohit): Let him know the whole truth. Perhaps he is a
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The living room. Father, Rohit, Gopal Sirur, Vatsala Sirur, Mohan
attangadi and Mira Hattangadi.
FATHER:It must be what—close to fifteen years, isn’t it? Yes, it’s fifteen.
Isn’t it, Mr Sirur? If I remember …
GOPAL:No need to call me Mister, Doctor Uncle. Actually I am your
nephew from my mother’s side. Her mother was a Nadkarni.
VATSALA: Your daughter, Hema, was just about to get married.
FATHER: So Ramdas was still alive then.
GOPAL: Of course. We remember him vividly. Very active. Always on
the go.
FATHER: And capable. Very. And affectionate. A genius. The only
genius in our family. A gifted painter. Could have been a Ravi
Verma. But he wanted to be rich. A successful businessman. Grow
rich overnight.
ROHIT (gently): Father …
FATHER:Opened a grocery store. Couldn’t run it. Then a restaurant. A
bakery. A tailoring shop. Was cheated every time. Our community
has no head for business, but he wouldn’t face the fact. I had to bail
him out every time. But I miss him. We would never have got
through Hema’s wedding without him. He saw to every detail. I
don’t really know how we are going to manage without him.
MIRA:
Why, Doctor Uncle? We are here. I’m sure you have nothing to
worry about. And we are told Hema too has come from Australia.
ROHIT: Father …
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Vivan is alone in the living room and browsing through the books. He is tense
and reacts to every little sound from outside the house.
An auto-rickshaw comes to a halt outside. He looks out, beams, takes out a
book and pretends to be absorbed in it. Hema comes in, looking very
distraught. She is about to rush in when she spots Vivan. Automatically, she
drops her voice.
HEMA: You?
VIVAN: I have finished yesterday’s book and kept it inside.
HEMA: Fine. Borrow any book you like.
(Opens the bag in her hand and takes out some files. Calls out.)
Rohit, Vidula … (To Vivan) Hurry up, please, Vivan. I’m sorry but
the family is to have an important meeting here.
VIVAN (takes out another letter from his pocket): Here.
HEMA: I don’t want it.
VIVAN: I am leaving it here.
HEMA: Stop it, Vivan. I have got a son older than you.
VIVAN: I don’t care who finds it.
(Places it on the table. She pounces on it.)
HEMA: What am I to do with you? If someone reads it …
VIVAN: Let them. It’s all true. Every word.
HEMA: Such filth. Filth. I have no time now. But are you going to stop
this nonsense or shall I tell your mother?
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tiny dark room which is a part of an Internet Café. It has a single computer
with sophisticated acoustic attachments and is obviously meant for ‘private’
viewings.
Vidula enters, led by the Attendant.
ATTENDANT: Haven’t seen you for a few days. Busy?
VIDULA: Yes.
ATTENDANT: Shopping, I suppose?
VIDULA: Yes. Endless.
ATTENDANT: You haven’t sent me an invitation, madam?
VIDULA: It’ll come. Don’t worry. How could one forget you?
ATTENDANT: Oh, you would be surprised. You don’t know how many
people use our Internet Café to find life partners. And then, when
it comes to the wedding, they clean forget us.
VIDULA:
I won’t, I promise you. The invitation cards are getting printed.
Don’t worry. You are among the first on my list.
(The Attendant has got the computer going.)
ATTENDANT: I’ll wait for it. Right, there you are. All set. Anything more?
VIDULA: No, thanks. Just put out the lights, please, as you go out.
(The Attendant switches off the lights, leaving Vidula in virtual darkness and
exits. She starts the equipment. A male voice comes on.)
VIDULA: The password, please.
VOICE: Ananga the Bodyless. And that’s my darling, Kuchla …
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ather and Mother in the living room. He is looking through some old files.
She is changing cushion covers and arranging the sofa, abstractedly. He looks
up.
FATHER: Is the boy coming to visit us today?
MOTHER: Who?
FATHER: The boy from America.
MOTHER: Ashwin? Of course not.
FATHER: Then who is coming?
MOTHER: No one.
FATHER:Then why are you changing cushion covers? It’s the third set
you have changed since this morning.
MOTHER: No one’s coming. I am … I am … I don’t know what else to
do.
FATHER: That’s certainly something new.
MOTHER: I’m all jittery. With Vidu sitting there with him—all alone—a
total stranger. She is so unsure of herself. Timid. I don’t know why
she has to be so …
FATHER:It’s Hema. She was always so confident and Vidu has
developed this self-image, contrary to hers. Children define
themselves against each other. We parents are irrelevant to their
growing up.
MOTHER: I wish I knew what was happening there—
FATHER: What can happen? At worst, he can say no. Or she can say no.
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shwin and Vidula. Restaurant. He has spent a few years in the US, but
speaks without an American accent. Vidula listens expressionless.
ASHWIN: You probably think I should be more affable. Give you more
details about life in the States. It probably upsets you that I don’t
joke more. Or talk more about our future together. Well, I can be
quite sociable if I put my mind to it. When I came to the US, I had
only two assets. My brains and my charm. As you know, we
Saraswat Brahmans are brought up to be nice—to lay on the jam.
And that training is just the thing to give you a leg-up in the States,
where the major preoccupation is to win friends and influence
people. Which I did. I can impress people. I can be charming. Then
why do I speak so little with you?
(Pause. He has a habit of being intensely silent for a while and then speaking
out suddenly.)
Because this is the real me. I want to be honest with you. I am
passing through a crisis. It sounds pompous to use the word, but
let me use it, I am passing through a spiritual crisis. I am boiling
inside like a volcano. I want you to share my agonizing search of
myself. It will require an intellectual effort to understand the real
me. It may even require an emotional giving-up. If you agree to
marry me, you will have to share my inner turmoil. But at the end
of the day, I believe you will find it enriching.
(Pause.)
Let me first tell you about myself. I am rich. In the US, I have been
a success beyond my own wildest expectations. Beyond anyone’s
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The living room. A huge suitcase lies open on the floor. Hema is
unsuccessfully trying to fit some clothes into it.
HEMA: Radhabai … Radhabai …
(A car horn sounds. She goes to the main door and looks out.)
We are coming. Please wait.
(The car horn sounds again. She shouts even louder.)
Please don’t make a racket. We’ll be coming soon. Just wait.
(Turning to the interior of the house.)
Rohit, Vidu, the cab is here.
(Continues packing the suitcase. Radhabai comes out. In the background,
ohit crosses pulling a big suitcase and some hand baggage and goes out.)
Radhabai, just sit on the lid, please. It won’t close.
(They push down the stuff piled inside the suitcase. Then Radhabai, giggling
shyly, sits on the lid, pressing it down.)
Where’s Ma?
RADHABAI : Resting, poor thing! Sending a daughter away …
HEMA:Radhabai, look. While we are at the station, the boy next door,
Vivan—you know who I mean …
RADHABAI :The one that borrows books every day. Him? Does he really
finish such fat books in a day? Must be very bright. Or stupid.
HEMA:Yes, him. If he hands you a book, keep it aside for me, please.
Don’t give it to anyone else.
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