Amity – The relationship bond
Part two of Nandita Acceptance Act is here, you must read part one before continuing to this one
(Mrs. Ray wiped her face in a hurry and folds her palms in the formal Indian gesture of “Namaskara” to greet everyone. Kamala, a trusted servant, opens the door to Mrs. Minakshi Mukherjee, a sophisticated INRI in her late fifties, her son Rudra; Nandita’s prospective husband, in his early thirties, dressed in formal attire and Nandini who is a few years elder to Nandita. Kamala opens the door and exits to the kitchen)
Mrs. Ray: (smiles) Namaskara
Mrs. Mukherjee: Namaskara, Reena
Rudra: (formally to Mrs. Ray) Namaskara.
Mrs. Ray: (with an air of formality) Please feel at home, Nandita will be here in a while.
Mrs. Mukherjee: (to Mrs. Ray) Reena, I must say, what a splendid decor! Who plays the Piano?
Nandini: I play the Piano when I am here.
Mrs. Ray: Moreover, my celebrated husband used to play the piano way back when we were just married.
Rudra: Who plays the Violin?
Mrs. Ray: Nandita used to play the piano when she was young full of verve and vigor.
(Kamala enters from the kitchen with a tray full of drinks, snacks and serves)
Mrs. Ray: Please have some.
Mrs. Mukherjee: (catches a short glimpse to her watch and then looks at Mrs. Ray) Reena, as you know we are here for a short while so if you could just…
Mrs. Ray: Oh, yes of course.
(Mrs. Ray calls out for Nandita; Nandita enters through the staircase, sits on the couch beside Nandini, and greets Mrs. Mukherjee and Rudra with a formal Namaskara)
Mrs. Mukherjee: Nandita, it is a pleasure meeting you.
Rudra: (whispers to Mrs. Mukherjee) Ma, can we have some privacy?
Mrs. Mukherjee: (whispers back to Rudra) make sure she falls for you. (To Mrs. Ray) Reena, can we have a short tour to your lovely garden; I wish I could raise such beautiful flowerbeds but my schedule seldom permits leisure.
Mrs. Ray: Yes, for sure, Nandini would you join us please my dear.
Nandini: (to Rudra and Nandita) Excuse us please.
(Nandini shakes her head indicating a nod of approval, Mrs. Mukherjee, Mrs. Ray and Nandini exit to the garden.)
***
Rudra: (puts on a French accent) Bonjour Madame.
Nandita: (bats an eyelid and smiles) Sorry, I beg your pardon.
Rudra: (kneels down in front of Nandita and offers her a red rose) Belles rose’s rouges pour la belle dame.
Nandita: (fakes a smile and accepts the rose) Now do not tell me you just fashioned it out of thin air.
Rudra: (frowns) Life is a bed of roses.
Nandita: It depends on your perspective whether you count the thorns or admire the beauty.
Rudra: I embraced both in equal measure.
Nandita: Please elucidate on the matter to clarify and justify your point.
Rudra: You sound more like a teacher.
Nandita: (winks at him) I am an accountant.
Rudra: (speaks with the aplomb of a professional) I am a chef.
Nandita: (with an expression of awe and wonder) what did you just say, CHEF? Therefore, you cook for people.
Rudra: I turned my hobby into my profession.
Nandita: (face palm) never thought of it that way.
Rudra: It is a fat paid profession in Florida.
Nandita: (frowns) does my family know?
Rudra: What does your family know about?
Nandita: In our society, your profession will make you less of a man.
Rudra: (sigh) before you decipher a long lecture on society, let me remind you I am here to meet you, marry you and not the society.
Nandita: (smiles sarcastically) your designation itself reflects who will take charge of the apron and who will take care of the regalia in near future.
Rudra: Are you speaking to your heart’s content? Why do you not voice your opinion on this?
Nandita: (voice shakes) my opinions? Does it count?
Rudra: Of course it does.
Nandita: Until now, I never voiced my opinion, because my father has all the right over me.
Rudra: You must not let anyone mark the stamp of his masculinity on you.
Nandita: I have to, until we share the same roof.
Rudra: (awestruck) No wonders why brain drain is taking over the Nation.
Nandita: I am a rebel because I do not sugarcoat bitter pills, I speak my mind, unlike others and hence I do not want to get married.
Rudra: (calm and composed) you are naive, innocent blessed with a heart of pure gold. People seldom gather the courage to speak their mind.
Nandita: (teary eyed) people seldom accept the stark truth, and I think I am not ready to tie the knot.
Rudra: (disappointed) I respect your decision, take your time to think and then you may let me know.
Nandita: (perplexed) so what are you here for to have a talk with me?
Rudra: (relaxed) I am here to give a wide berth to squabble.
Nandita: Sorry I did not get you.
Rudra: My mother thinks I should settle down now, and she thinks you can provide solace to my soul.
Nandita: So would you accept a stranger for a better half?
Rudra: Well said, from our very childhood, they taught us to keep away from strangers and all of a sudden, they expect me to share the bed with a woman I met today.
Nandita: So do you think it is justified amalgamating?
Rudra: Certainly not, I bear an ingrained aversion to the sight of Big Fat Indian Weddings. It is nothing but just a ceremony that coins social sanction to a personal relationship.
Nandita: It lapses my heart into a pit of gloom to see how people sever after faking years of commitment; some stick together in fear of mockery and some for the sake of the kids.
Rudra: (surprised) your views align with mine.
Nandita: People play with lives in the name of culture. My parents bowed before their originators in the name of culture and blindly accepted the miseries.
Rudra: All through their lives, they feared the society, they were born and raised in such a milieu that prohibited them from speaking to their heart’s content, and hence they were compelled to wear mask and indulge themselves in veil playing.
Nandita: You know I find it strange when people sell out their son in the name of Dowry, society accepts the sold out son, but when a woman is provoked to sell out her body, and society refuses to accept her in the name of Prostitution.
Rudra: (with an air of arrogance) it is nothing but Hypocrisy.
Nandita: You sound more like a play critic.
Rudra: (speaks informally) where’s your celebrated son Joy?
Nandita: (her lips curl up in a smile) Do you want to bump into Joy?
Rudra: you served a noble purpose by adopting him in a tender age.
Nandita: Sorry I did not get you.
Rudra: Well, biology is the least of what makes a woman a mother.
Nandita: (smiling at him) do you think so?
Rudra: (pretends as if lost in deep thoughts) If we tie the knot, we shall apply for a Visa for him too.
(A wave of laughter follows)
***
Nandita: (looking straight into Rudra’s eyes) you are one of a kind.
Rudra: Mention not.
Nandita: (informally) somebody is basking in charm of my appreciation.
Rudra: (carelessly) somebody is blowing out of proportion.
Nandita: (nervously) keeping everything at bay, I want you to know something.
Rudra: (frowns and lets loose his hands in a an informal gesture) Go ahead, I’m listening.
Nandita: (sharply) I will live with my maiden surname; I will not change it to yours.
Rudra: (philosophically) shall I accept yours then?
Nandita: (ironically) you must be kidding me.
Rudra: Why would I do that?
Nandita: (smiles sarcastically) you just opened the floodgates to the influx of liberty.
Rudra: It is my pleasure, Ma’am.
(Nandini enters from the garden and interrupts)
Nandini: (cuts in) Rudra Kakima is waiting in the garden for your say, it is almost half-past seven and she thinks it is time to take leave. Rudra and Nandita rise from the couch and shake hands.)
Nandita: It was nice meeting you Rudra.
Rudra: It was nice meeting you too, goodnight.
(Rudra exits)