eBook
Available on Compatible NOOK devices, the free NOOK App and in My Digital Library.
Related collections and offers
Overview
A stage adaptation of Katherine Boo's National Book Award-winning study of life in a Mumbai slum
India is surging with global ambition. But beyond the luxury hotels surrounding Mumbai airport lies a makeshift slum, Annawadi, full of people with plans of their own.
Zehrunisa and her son Abdul aim to recycle enough rubbish to fund a proper house. Sunil, twelve and stunted, wants to eat until he's as tall as Kalu the thief. Asha seeks to steal government antipoverty funds to turn herself into a "first-class person," while her daughter Manju intends to become the slum's first female graduate.
But their schemes are fragile; global recession threatens the garbage trade, and another slum dweller is about to make an accusation that will destroy herself and shatter the neighborhood.
For Behind the Beautiful Forevers, journalist Katherine Boo spent three years in Annawadi recording the lives of its residents. From her uncompromising book, David Hare has fashioned a tumultuous play on an epic scale.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780374714093 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Farrar, Straus and Giroux |
| Publication date: | 10/06/2015 |
| Sold by: | Macmillan |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 128 |
| File size: | 212 KB |
About the Author
David Hare is a playwright, screenwriter, and theater and film director. He was won numerous awards and is best known for his screenplays for The Hours (2002) and The Reader (2008) and the plays Plenty (which he adapted into a film starring Meryl Streep in 1985), Racing Demon (1990), Skylight (1997), and Amy's View (1998). He lives in London.
David Hare is a playwright, screenwriter, and theater and film director. He was won numerous awards and is best known for his screenplays for The Hours (2002) and The Reader (2008) and the plays Plenty (which he adapted into a film starring Meryl Streep in 1985), Racing Demon (1990), Skylight (1997), and Amy's View (1998). He lives in London.
Read an Excerpt
Behind the Beautiful Forevers
A Play
By David Hare
Farrar, Straus and Giroux
Copyright © 2015 David HareAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-86547-835-0
CHAPTER 1
Act One
1.1
A bare stage, epic. It's a maidan, as yet undefined. Abdul Husain comes on. He is in his late teens, wiry, sullen – an old man of a boy. He has a matchstick between his teeth. Behind him there is a huge mound of mixed rubbish and a rusty pair of scales hangs from a roof. Sunil Sharma arrives. He's twelve, cheerful, very short, with a thick upward pelt of hair. He carries a large sack of rubbish. He speaks directly to us.
Sunil Know what I want? I want cotton buds. I want ketchup packets. Because silver paper is good. Chocolate. Cigarettes. Cigarette packets. Umbrellas. That's what I want. Cardboard. Plastic. Batteries. Shoelaces. Metal. Problem: there's always a wall. Wherever you go, you'll find a new wall. With barbed wire, or bottled glass. All the time, new guards, new dogs, new guns. There's a lot of good stuff in the world, that's why they've electrified the fences. Who's been to the airport? Mumbai airport? Anybody? It's not just that rich people don't know what they've got. They don't even know what they throw away. They don't notice. We notice. The airport's bigger every day. That's why there's more of us. Picking garbage. Me, I'm always searching for a place. I don't know where it is, but I know it's there. Beyond Airport Road. It must be. Somewhere, there's a place full of rubbish no one else has thought of.
1.2
At the back of the stage a concrete wall, covered by sunshine-yellow ads for Italianate floor tiles. Along its whole length, the repeated words BEAUTIFUL FOREVER BEAUTIFUL FOREVER BEAUTIFUL FOREVER. At once Sunil is joined by Kalu, who is fifteen, on a motorbike, in camouflage cargo-pants, dark-skinned, with long, lank hair. Abdul is sorting his pile of rubbish.
Kalu Sunil, are you coming out? Are you coming out with me tonight?
Sunil does not answer.
What's happening, man? What, you don't want to make money?
Sunil I want to make money.
Kalu Then why aren't you coming, man? You want to pick plastic all your life?
Sunil smiles in anticipation.
Sunil Kalu, do Om Shanti Om.
Kalu No.
Sunil Please.
Kalu Come out with me, I'll do Om Shanti Om. Fuck, I'll do Bhool Bhulaiya. I'll do King Kong. I'll do fucking Bruce Lee if that's what you want. I'll do the whole lot if you'll just help.
Kalu looks a moment. Then he does a beautiful brief parody of Deepika sashaying in Om Shanti Om.
Well?
He shakes his head.
Oh I see, so you're scared, are you, man?
Sunil I'm not scared.
Kalu Scared of ghosts?
Sunil I'm not scared of ghosts. I go out at night.
Kalu It's sitting there. The stuff is sitting there, man. In the recycling bins.
Sunil How did you find it?
Kalu I have contacts. They told me where it was.
Sunil They told you? Somebody told you where to find metal? Why would they do that? You're lying, man.
Kalu It's over by the airport. Where they fix the planes. Up over the wire and we're in.
Sunil finally tells him the reason.
Sunil Kalu, you look like a thief.
Kalu I am a thief.
Sunil They can tell. The airport people can tell. They take one look in your eyes. Once you get a thief-face you're finished. I don't want that face.
Kalu What about you? You look like a runt. You look like a stub. How can you bear being so small?
Sunil My father was a picker. I'm a picker. Thieves are different.
Kalu Tell you how we're different. We make a living. That's how we're different. There's no future in plastic. Metal – that's where the money is. Tonight, I'll do the job, then I'll go to Noodle-wali, eat chilli chicken and rice. Isn't that what you want? To eat chilli chicken and rice? You really saying no?
Abdul looks up.
Abdul He's saying no.
Kalu Abdul you're a prick. You handle stolen goods all day, but you don't have the balls to go and get them.
Abdul I'm not a picker. I'm a sorter.
Sunil Yes. But I'm a garbage picker. I'm not a thief.
Kalu gets on his motorbike and goes.
1.3
Sunil opens his trash sack to check its contents. Manju Waghekar is in line, with a pail of water. Behind, a queue of women with buckets at a spluttering standpipe. Manju is tall, poised, eighteen, at ease with her beauty. She speaks to us.
ManjuMrs Dalloway. I don't understand it. It's a book by the English writer Virginia Woolf. Do you understand it? Who are these people? What do they do? I know nothing of these people. I try to read it. Clarissa goes out to get flowers. Later she gives a party. I'm trying to learn it, that's my only chance, I'm going to learn it by heart.
From offstage, the sound of Manju's mother, Asha, calling for her.
Asha (off) Manju!
Manju It's not easy. When I read, my mind slips down the page. The First World War, I know about that, I've heard of that. But the rest. And like why she wrote the book, why we should care.
Asha (off) Manju!
Manju In books I've read before, there's always a story. I'm looking for a story.
Asha (off) Manju! Where are you? Come here. What's happened to you?
Manju If there were a story, it would be easier to learn.
1.4
Sunil goes over to Abdul with his sack.
Sunil Abdul.
Abdul Sunil.
Sunil Are you going to weigh it?
Abdul takes the sack and puts it on the scales.
There's enough here we can go to the video parlour.
Abdul says nothing.
Abdul, you have to do something besides work. Come play Bomber-Man. Come play Metal Slug Three.
Abdul If I don't work the family don't eat.
Sunil You're making more money than any of us. Everyone knows. The Husains are doing well.
Abdul pulls out a sheaf of rupees.
Hey, put it on again, I didn't see.
Abdul But I saw.
Sunil Yeah. But I didn't.
Abdul reluctantly puts the bag back on the scales. Meanwhile:
You never have fun. You never get high.
Abdul I work. There's eleven in my family. That's what I do. What do I tell you? What's the first rule? What is it?
Sunil / Abdul (mockingly, together) 'Keep your head down, keep out of trouble ...'
Sunil So you keep saying.
Abdul Keep out of trouble. It's the only rule.
Sunil You're too cautious.
Abdul And you're too flashy, Sunil. It's good to be careful. Because it only takes one thing. Just one.
He has raised his voice, in absolute conviction.
Sunil I know what you are. You're a coward. You're frightened. You're frightened of life.
Abdul So what if I'm a coward? I stay alive, don't I?
He hands over the rupees.
Sunil Thank you. Is that it?
Abdul That's it.
Sunil That's good stuff.
Abdul It's all good stuff.
Sunil I thought I'd get more. I thought you'd pay me more.
He waits a moment, as if to bring pressure.
Abdul.
Abdul Then bring more.
1.5
Sunil goes. Abdul carries on sorting garbage, with breathtaking speed and skill. Upstage, Glimmerglass hotels shimmer behind the wall. They become a permanent background, towering over the action. Asha Waghekar appears. She's thirty-nine, imperious, used to power. She addresses us.
Asha Five hotels. In Annawadi, we live under five hotels. They built walls so the guests wouldn't have to look at us, so the guests wouldn't know we were here. But every night the ash from our cow-dung fires drifts across and lands on their swimming pools. They complain. The world is changing, and it's changing fast. It's tipping eastwards and the money is flowing this way. Globalisation. But the politicians are unhappy. Mumbai's doing well but Singapore and Shanghai are doing better. Why? Because Mumbai doesn't seem modern. Why not? Obvious. Because of us. Here we are, sitting in the way beside the airport, stopping the economic miracle being a miracle. We have that. At least we have that. The fact they want to get rid of us. That's our power. That's the only power we have. All anyone wants to know: when will we finally get out the way?
1.6
Asha sits. Outside, an orderly and silent queue has formed, waiting to see her. In another area, Abdul continues to sort rubbish. Manju comes in, carrying her pail of water.
Asha Manju, ah, there you are at last. I've been waiting. Where were you?
Manju The tap's dry again. I stood for three hours.
Asha You can study at the tap.
Manju I did study. I took Mrs Dalloway.
She gives a withering look, then goes to wash vegetables.
There's already a queue.
Asha The longer they wait, the more they appreciate it when they do get to see me.
Manju crosses to go out to the queue.
Manju Mr Kamble's waiting. I don't think he should wait.
Asha Why not?
Manju You know why not.
Raja Kamble is at the head of the queue. He's only forty, but in terrible condition, knobbly, bony, a mouthful of yellowed teeth.
Mr Kamble, please, you must come in. I know my mother will want to help.
Kamble Thank you, Manju. You're a good girl. How are your studies?
Manju Good. Come in.
He smiles and moves across to see Asha. Manju works quietly at the side.
Asha Raja.
Kamble Asha. I'm here to ask for your help.
Asha makes a gesture for him to proceed.
You know my situation.
Asha Tell me.
Kamble Not good. I need a new valve for my heart.
Asha What's the doctor asking? For himself?
Kamble He won't do it for less than sixty thousand rupees.
Asha Which hospital?
Kamble Sion.
Asha Have you tried Cooper?
Kamble He wants more.
He looks at her, calculating.
I need money. I've heard there's a government scheme ...
Asha Ah yes.
Kamble And you can fix it. You're the go-to woman. You fix things for the party.
Asha I work with Shiv Sena, yes.
Kamble People, they get given money to start small businesses.
Asha Some people.
Kamble It's you who decides. It's you who fills in the forms saying how many people the business employs. It's you who cooks up the figure.
Asha looks at him, her look unyielding.
Asha It's an anti-poverty scheme. It's a government initiative. To help people to help themselves.
Kamble Well?
Asha hesitates. Manju has stopped working and is looking to see what will happen.
Asha How much do you need?
Kamble I'm forty thousand short. Asha, look at me. Without this valve, I will die.
Asha is impassive.
You and I, our families have been friends. Since we first came here. Manju's like my daughter. At the sanitation department, I'm respected.
Asha You clean toilets.
Kamble Yes.
Asha You're a toilet cleaner.
Kamble I have a permanent job. I was born on the pavement and now, because of toilets, my family live in brick walls. Asha, if you could get me forty, I would be able to make a token of thanks.
Asha What would this token be?
Kamble I will give you five thousand.
Asha Five? You'd give me five?
She waits. Kamble nods. Then:
Pray.
Kamble What?
Asha Pray to the gods, man. You're in a bad way. Go to the temple. Go to Gajanan Maharaj and offer a prayer.
Kamble A prayer for what?
Asha For whatever you want. Pray for money, or pray for good health. At the moment you need both.
Manju Mother, you can't let him go. You can't. This is Mr Kamble. He's a family friend.
Asha Manju, this is not your business.
Manju It's wrong. You know it's wrong.
Asha Be quiet.
Manju has spoken out in agony. But Asha slaps her down fiercely. She turns back to Kamble.
You think fixing is easy?
Kamble No.
Asha People come, they say 'Give me a loan'. Do you know how many people come to me? It's not a tap. Yes, I'm a friend, and as a friend, I say 'Pray to the gods'. Thank you for coming to see me.
Kamble Asha ...
Asha Thank you. That's it.
It's final. Kamble goes out. Manju moves vegetables into a pot. Asha fumes.
I won't have it. I won't have you speaking when I'm working.
Manju busies herself, saying nothing.
Come on, he's a dying man. He'll pay more than five. I'm his only hope. Look. Learn. Understand what I do. It's not clever to be stupid. I brought you up wrong. You think because he's a friend, I should treat him differently? One day I want to be corporator. You think I'll get to run the ward by being kind? Who was kind to me when the crops died and there was no food? When we lived in Vidharba, the girl children all starved. So many years and I can still taste it. The taste of hunger in my mouth. Now you study, you teach. Why? Because I gave you what my family refused to give me. Because I was a girl. What's the book you're reading?
ManjuMrs Dalloway.
Asha Yes. You think I read Mrs Dalloway? In the country? I was skin and bone. I wanted you to be sweet, but instead you're soft.
Mahadeo comes in, gentle, fleshy, fifties. With him Rahul, fifteen, in cargo-pants, snaggle-toothed, pie-faced, with long flowing locks.
Mahadeo Is supper ready?
Asha It's late. Because your daughter was late.
Rahul (to Manju) Are you in trouble again?
Asha As usual. If she had a proper father this wouldn't happen.
Mahadeo It isn't my fault.
Asha Everything's your fault.
Mahadeo Is there a drink anywhere?
Mahadeo gives Manju a complicit smile.
Asha Mr Kamble was here. He offered me five. He'll come back. He'll offer more. Where else can he go? He doesn't want to die.
1.7
The stage changes. It's night. A wire fence. Arc lights. It's the red and white gates of an Air India compound. The gates are open. The place is deserted. Kalu arrives, clearly expecting someone. He goes through the gate. He looks round.
Kalu Who's that?
Silence.
Who's there?
There's a sound. Kalu begins to panic and turns. Two Dealers in white suits appear from the dark.
First Dealer Kalu.
Kalu backs away towards the gate, but the Second Dealer is already there, slamming it shut with a big metallic crash.
Take off his shirt.
The Second Dealer moves to take hold of Kalu while the First Dealer takes off his own jacket.
You're going to lose your eyes.
Kalu Let me go. I haven't done anything. I've done nothing. I've done nothing wrong.
The Second Dealer has torn off Kalu's shirt, holding him from behind. The First Dealer has a dagger in one hand and a sickle in the other.
First Dealer You work for the police.
Kalu No, I don't.
First Dealer Yes, you do.
Kalu I haven't told anyone anything.
The Second Dealer readies his body. The First Dealer raises the dagger.
First Dealer Kalu. You're going to die.
The First Dealer stabs Kalu in the eye. Blood spurts. Kalu screams. From the back of the theatre the sound of an approaching plane. The First Dealer stabs again, then pulls the eye out with his hand. A massive shadow moves across as a 747 passes low overhead, lights flashing. Then the jet disappears.
1.8
Abdul is sitting exactly where he was, sorting rubbish with spectacular skill. There is a line of Pickers waiting patiently. Zehrunisa Husain has appeared. She is maybe forty, a little plump but light in her movements.
Zehrunisa I can't help it. We're doing better. We're doing better than other people. So what? It's not our fault. And yet everyone dislikes us. What can we do? Abdul's the best sorter in the district. My dullest son, Abdul, and the hardest working. Three years ago, the monsoon came, Annawadi was under water and we lost everything. But we started again, we rebuilt. Now it's all good news. The Chinese have the Olympics, they have to build, so there's more demand. More demand for everything, rubbish included. They do well, we all do well. We don't eat weeds and we don't fry rats. My husband has an idea. He's bought a plot of land ninety minutes from here. At Vasai. Just land, nothing else. There, it's all Muslims. So nobody talks about 'dirty Muslim money'. But if we go, he'll have me back behind a burqa, serving tea. Fuck that. Never. Never again.
She turns to a Picker who is waiting.
Ten. That's all you're getting. Come and check behind me, you see me shitting coins? Go home and suck on your husband's sugar cane.
1.9
The Picker goes, discontented. Scenery appears. Elements of a shack. A couple of walls, a window, and an entrance. Kehkashan is nineteen, capable but moody. Zehrunisa joins her, and the two of them wash clothes, squatting together as Abdul goes on sorting.
Kehkashan When do you want lunch?
Zehrunisa Later. And don't mope anymore, it's enough.
Kehkashan I'm not going back. I'm not going back to him.
Zehrunisa throws an anxious look towards Abdul.
Zehrunisa Move away, Abdul, I don't want you to hear this.
Abdul Move away where exactly?
Zehrunisa Your sister's not happy.
Kehkashan Of course I'm not happy. Why would I be happy? Abdul can listen, I've nothing to hide.
Abdul chews the plastic with his teeth to test it.
Abdul If there's anything I hate it's bottle-tops. Half plastic, half metal. You cut your hands to pieces pulling them apart. And for what?
Zehrunisa For our future, Abdul. To get us out of here. Isn't that what you want?
Abdul throws his mother a sardonic glance.
What? What are you saying? You don't want to leave?
Abdul We make a living. It's not so bad.
Zehrunisa There's a market in people just like there's a market in rubbish. And Muslims in rubbish come bottom of the pile. I'd like to live somewhere where people don't hate us.
Abdul smiles, unfazed.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Behind the Beautiful Forevers by David Hare. Copyright © 2015 David Hare. Excerpted by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Title Page,Copyright Notice,
Production History,
List of Characters,
Act One,
Act Two,
A Note About the Author,
Also by David Hare,
Copyright,