Shahid I must run to the library. You know Chili doesn’t tell no one what’s what.
Zulma What are you studying?
Shahid Post-colonial literature.
Zulma No finer qualification for a travel agent. Are we still colonial after so long, ‘post’ or not? Get a degree – whatever else, make sure you come out qualified, for your ammi’s sake. You haven’t got in with a rotten crowd, have you? Intellectuals or some other such fools?
Shahid (ushering her out) I’ve got to hand in an essay tomorrow, Auntie.
Zulma (forceful) Shahid! Your ammi is worried. Get Chili to ring her. He hasn’t been home for weeks.
Shahid I’ll tell him.
Zulma Remember what Papa always said – working your arse off is the only religion worth the name. Do that, and then go home.
Shahid (ushering her out) I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from Chili, Auntie. Bye.
Zulma exits. Shahid puts the pakoras away and switches on some music as he does his yoga exercises. Chad enters. For a moment, he’s entranced by the music.
Chad What you doin’?
Shahid Yoga. It gets me in the mood.
Chad That Hindu shit will infect your mind.
He turns off the music.
They listen to that Ravi Shankar shit and burn joss sticks. You don’t want to end up like George Harrison, do you? Shahid, I tell you, I used to be an addict – a music addict like you. I listened to it day and night! It was overtaking my soul!
Shahid You were controlled by music?
Chad I’m talking of the music and fashion industries. Telling us what to wear, where to go, what to listen to. Ain’t we their slaves?
Shahid I’m not living without music. Tell me the truth – you miss it too.
Chad (pointed) Don’t you want to swim in a clean sea and see by a clear light? Imagine the warm water holding you up!
He hugs Shahid.
Are we dancing monkeys? We have minds and sense. Gimme those Prince records!
Shahid Some of them are imports!
Chad Allah is the only one we must submit to! He put our noses on our face –
Shahid As opposed to where?
Chad Our stomach, for instance. How can you deny his skill and power and authority?
Shahid I don’t, Chad, you know I don’t. And you know I respect you as a brother too, that’s why I’m asking you to stop!
Chad We think we cool but we break our trust with Allah. Listen to Riaz. Don’t he say we becoming Western, European, Socialist? We must not assimilate, that way we lose our souls. Like that blaspheming writer! We are proud and we are obedient. It’s not we who must change, but the world!
Shahid Here – keys to paradise. Have a good meeting.
As he’s about to leave, Tahira enters.
Chad This wonderful sister is Tahira.
Chad picks up the foil-wrapped parcel Shahid stashed away.
Shahid (to Tahira) Hi. Did you meet my aunt on her way out?
Tahira (holding his hand) That air hostess wear sunglasses to hide her evil eye! Don’t worry – we all have auntie problems. One day all aunties will be under our control.
Shahid leaves, as people begin to gather to meet Riaz. Music. Shahid makes his way through night-time London to Deedee’s.
SCENE FIVE
Deedee’s house. Night. Deedee has had a row with
Brownlow. He storms off into the bedroom. Shahid enters.
Shahid Thanks for inviting me to look at the Prince videos. I wouldn’t be able to write my Prince paper without it. Where are the others?
Deedee I’ll heat some soup while you watch.
Deedee goes to the kitchen. Shahid watches the video. He is emulating Prince’s moves, gestures, etc., when Deedee returns.
Find him sexy?
Shahid quickly checks his notebook.
Shahid His work is … seamless … seamless and not a little cathartic, wouldn’t you say?
Deedee I hate this fucking house.
Shahid Pardon?
Deedee We’re trying to sell it. Sorry, what did you say?
Enter Brownlow, putting on his tie. Stops on seeing Shahid. He holds out his hand.
Brownlow H-h-hello, Tariq. I’m Andrew Brownlow.
Shahid I’m Shahid.
Brownlow O-o-of course. Extra lessons, hmm?
Shahid (agreeing) Prince.
Brownlow Charles?
Shahid No, the sex symbol.
Brownlow Of course. F. R. Leavis would be reassured and so would Queenie.
Shahid Who?
Brownlow What?
Shahid Queenie?
Brownlow It’s true I’m not feeling that heterosexual at the moment. (To Deedee.) W-w-well. S-s-see you. B-b-bye.
Deedee (cutting him off) Yes, all right, see you tomorrow.
He leaves.
‘Yes’ is a lovely word. I love ‘yes’. Yes, yes, yes. No victims, no victors, just ‘yes’.
Shahid My brother Chili lives by the word –
Deedee It was discovered in South America. Chilli only came to India in medieval times.
Shahid I didn’t know that. We’re from Pakistan.
Deedee Once, years ago, Andrew came home from a party and described kissing a woman.
Shahid Dr Brownlow?
Deedee I had never felt so let down – couldn’t sleep for two nights. You would hope that intimacy would leave more of a mark. But now I think, who is this person? I want a smoke.
Shahid (apologetic) I don’t smoke.
She shows him a spliff.
Whoa! I’ve only smoked that once before. In Brighton.
Deedee Enjoy it?
Shahid The person who gave it me said I should come and see you.
Deedee Well …! What do you say? It’ll make you laugh.
Shahid It’s okay, I laughed earlier. Could you have a look at this?
Offers his rolled-up manuscript.
Deedee Interesting …
Shahid You haven’t read it yet.
Deedee Give me a few years.
Shahid Thanks. (Quickly, referring to the spliff.) I want it.
Deedee Sure?
Shahid takes it, draws mightily and passes it on.
Shahid What is this?
Deedee Moroccan.
Shahid takes his leather jacket off.
What’re you doing?
Shahid Feeling good too.
She starts laughing.
What?
Deedee If my friends could see me now …! Kids, mortgages, this would not even register in their dreams! What do you want to do when you grow up?
She turns up the music while Shahid takes another long draw.
Shahid (affecting a Chili-like nonchalance) Whatever you want me to do, babe.
Deedee Yes, call me baby. Baby, baby, baby.
She starts moving to the music, slowly, while Shahid watches her dance.
Can’t wait to get a place of my own.
Shahid Why are you splitting up?
Deedee For years I was involved with his politics. Too involved. It all makes you feel guilty. It limits the imagination.
Shahid What d’you like now?
Deedee (holding up the spliff) This. Teaching. Music. When I can, I do a lot of nothing. And make stabs at pleasure. (Pops open a pill box.) Want one?
Shahid What are they?
Deedee E. Ecstasy. It’ll make you see around corners.
Shahid Is this why you invited me over?
Deedee No. Because you’re lonely and I like the way you look at me.
Shahid pops a pill. She offers him a bottle of water to swig with the pill and resumes dancing, after popping one herself.
You’ve got café-au-lait skin.
She recites.
A savage place! As holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast
thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced!
Deedee, impressed, acknowledges Shahid’s participation. She listlessly flicks through his manuscript.
Deedee Tell me your story …
Shahid draws more on his spliff and pops another pill.
Shahid Everybody’s free, everybody’s free with Prince on the gas!
Deedee Cold, wet and worthy – that’s all Greenham Common amounted to.
Shahid I read Shelley to her, sitting by the pond. Papa was so mad.
Deedee Dress like a punk and leave home …
Shahid pops another pill while Deedee resumes dancing.
Let’s go to the end-of-decade party!
Shahid The decade hasn’t ended yet.
Deedee It will feel like it has! See how the under-classes are fighting back against Thatcher’s greed.
She grabs Shahid and they rush out of the door. Strapper is seen dealing drugs to some students on the road. Shahid and Deedee go along with them, shouting ‘End-of-decade party!’
Rave music. Shadows coalesce into a rave scene.
SCENE SIX
Shahid’s digs. Shahid returns. Preparing for bed, he retches and falls.
Riaz, disturbed by the noise, comes into his room, and is alarmed to see Shahid choking on his vomit. He picks him up and lays him to bed. Pulls down his trousers and covers him with a blanket.
Confused, Shahid calls out Riaz’s name. The latter hushes him to sleep.
When he sees Shahid finally asleep, he recites a prayer, cleans the room and slips out.
SCENE SEVEN
Shahid’s digs. Morning. Shahid’s lying on his bed, groggy. Chad enters, excited. Riaz is a pace behind, carrying a folder bearing his manuscript, with Tahira in tow.
Chad You’re definitely the lucky type. The brother asked for you particularly.
Shahid mumbles incoherently.
Riaz How are you feeling, Shahid?
Shahid continues to mumble.
Chad Shahid!
Shahid Huh? What is it?
Riaz Please.
He places the folder in Shahid’s hand.
Chad (bending over Shahid and reading the cover page) ‘The Martyr’s Imagination’ …?
Riaz Yes. It is my little book.
Tahira (excited) It’s finished?
Riaz Pen-written only until now.
Tahira Is it an attack on that blaspheming writer?
Riaz (continuing, to Shahid) Please, would you do one thing for me?
Shahid Whatever you want, Riaz.
Riaz Will you convert it to print?
Shahid Of course.
Riaz Many others have volunteered but you are the right person for this task.
Shahid listlessly looks through the manuscript.
I am from a small village in Pakistan. They are basically … songs of memory, adolescence and twilight. But perhaps they will change the world a little too.
Shahid I didn’t know you –
Riaz It’s God’s work.
Shahid With your name on the title page.
Riaz (laughing) Yes, I am entirely to blame.
Tahira (to Riaz) What message does the book have, brother?
Riaz (holding her face tenderly) The message – and all good art must have a message – is of love and compassion.
Chad Beautiful.
Shahid Brother Riaz, thank you, thank you for everything!
Riaz No, no.
Riaz and Tahira leave.
Chad Wow, that’s incredible! I offer you one warning – you must be strictly confidential about this.
Shahid Are you saying I’m not trustworthy?
Chad No, no, brother. But many important people in the community wouldn’t like him being too creative. It too frivolous for them. Some of those guys go into a supermarket and if music playing, they run out again. Why don’t you enjoy some rest before you begin such important work?
Shahid lies down, Chad reads the manuscript.
(Reading.) Magnificent, ‘Gibreel’s fragrant green sword will veil the unveiled …’
Shahid sits up and reaches for the bowl beside his bed.
‘Wet bodies and captivating tongues reek of Satan’s hot breath, Gibreel’s fragrant green sword …’
Shahid whimpers.
You know, Shahid brother, there’s something else Riaz wants you to do. He was shy of asking you, I know.
Shahid What is it?
Chad He needs your help to get the book published.
Shahid retches into the bowl.
Shahid He saved my life.
Chad He intuitive – you owe him the lot.
Shahid I’ll do whatever I can to repay him.
Chad You’ll help him find a publisher for the book?
Shahid Sure.
Tahira bursts in, followed by Hat and an Old Man.
Tahira We need clear space here. (To Shahid.) You going to help or lie there all day?
Shahid What now?
Shahid gets up wearily. He is in his underpants. Tahira looks at him, then Hat positions himself to hide Shahid from her view. She seats the Old Man on a chair. Riaz comes in.
Hat (to Shahid) Now you’ll hear something about how nice your little England is.
Riaz makes the Old Man sit at ease and listens attentively.
Old Man These boys, please, sir, are coming into my flat and threatening my whole family every day and night. They have punched me in my stomach, spit all the time at my wife when she goes out for shopping, make rude signs at my daughters when they go to school. Five years I have lived there, but it is getting worse. I am afraid.
Riaz (considers) What do you suggest we do to help, Shahid?
Shahid (offhand) Teach the beggars a lesson.
Riaz Excellent. We’re not blasted Christians. We don’t turn the other buttock. We will fight for our people who are being tortured anywhere – in Palestine, Afghanistan, Kashmir, East End! (To the Old Man, reassuring, as he ushers him out.) Action will be taken very soon. That is my promise to you.
Old Man exits.
Tahira Self-defence is no offence.
Shahid What are you talking about?
Riaz We want you with us tonight, Shahid.
Chad Shahid’s always with us.
Shahid I have to see someone on family business later – after working on your poem …
Riaz Work on the poem can wait. It is our duty to make sure this man can feel free again.
Chad No degradation of our people. Anybody who fails to fight will answer to God and hellfire!
Shahid I’ll be punished if I don’t take part?
Riaz Punishment is only for those who degrade our people. I’ve written a poem on this subject. ‘The Wrath’. Have you reached it yet?
Shahid Which one? Is it at the end?
Riaz No! It’s the second one – ‘The Wrath’. ‘The Wrath’.
Shahid No, not yet. (Sarky.) Why not call ourselves the Foreign Legion?
Chad I knew you were with us.