Tyger Tyger

CAST

Yasmeen Ahmed (22) Receptionist (Ex-Air-hostess)

Sardool Singh (6o) Commissionaire.Sikh (retired soldier and shikari)

A.N. Mathur (35) Joint Secretary.Director of Tourism, Government of India

H.H. Maharaja of Shamnagar (30)

Jack Conran-Smith (25) English (long red hair and beard as worn by hippies)

Alf Schneiderman (6o) American Tourist

Babette Schneiderman Hotel Staff (55) Wife of Alf Schneiderman,

Bearer 1/ Narrator 1/ Sarpanch

Bearer 2/ Narrator 2

Act One Scene I

(Scene: Foyer of a hotel in a national game preserve. On one side there is a reception desk with cubby-holes for keys and letters and a telephone switchboard. On the desk there is a large guest-book, a notice saying 'Dry, Day', a figure of the Air-India Maharaja, and other bric-a-brac typical of small hotels.

The foyer is also the hotel lobby. Facing the reception desk are a sofa, three armchairs and a table. Potted palms, flowers, vases decorate the room.

On the top of the wall facing the stage and the entrance leading into the hotel are framed posters: one of Jawaharlal Nehru with a caption about welcoming foreign visitors, the other of the TajMahal with the caption 'Visit India', between the posters there is a mounted head of a snarling tiger.

The Receptionist is behind her desk, working at her accounts. The Commissionaire is sitting on the steps of the entrance with a muzzle-loader between his legs.

N.B. : Outer entrance to hotel can be closed by sliding iron trellis gates which are kept open during the daytime.)

Narrator 1 - GE/GM ladies and gentlemen, we are here to present our adaptation of Tyger Tyger by Khuswant singh. The play examines the complexities in human nature, especially when a cord of fear strikes. So welcome everyone to Hotel Wildlife located in midst of a wildlife sanctuary. Let’s see whether the laws of Jungle apply to men also.

Meet Mr and Mrs.Schneiderman tourists to India all the way from the States.

[Sound of a car approaching. Commissionaire stands up. Receptionist tidies her hair. Sound of car halting on gravel road. Opening and slamming of doors. Commissionaire puts away gun and goes to fetch luggage. Enter Mr and Mrs Schneiderman armed with cameras, field-glasses, etc. Sound of car driving away.]

Mrs Schneiderman : Oh boy! Isn't this great? And right in the centre of nowhere. Alfie, I know l am going to like this place. [Turning to Receptionist] And how are you this evening? (Puts out her hand) I am Mrs Schneiderman and this is my husband.

Receptionist : Good evening, Madam. Good evening, sir. I hope you had a nice journey.Please sign the visitors' book. Your room is ready. Dinner will be served at seven o'clock.

Mrs Schneiderman : [Writing in visitors' book] Honey, we are the very first guests in the hotel. Now isn't that something! [Picks up notice saying 'Dry Day] Aren't these Indians clever! They know when it's going to rain and when it's going to be dry.

Receptionist : I am sorry, Madam, that only means we cannot serve alcoholic beverages today.

Mr Schneiderman : We've brought our own booze. You don't mind us drinking our own stuff, do you?

Receptionist : Not at all, sir. I will have soda and ice sent to your room.

[Taps bell. Bearer 2 appears. Gives him a key] Number Six. [Bearer 2 takes baggage from Commissionaire] After dinner there will be an excursion to the jungle.

Narrator 2 - And here is Mr Conran-Smith, Nationality British and always in pursuit of love and….. Gaanja

Bearer 2 goes to fetch luggage. Enter Conran-Smith, red-haired, bearded, dressed hippie-style, has sack on back.]

Receptionist : [Startled] You here? Did you follow me?

Conran-Smith : The name, Madam, is Conran-Smith, occupation – vagabond. Have you a room for me?

Receptionist : What are you doing here? I thought I'd seen the last of you.

Conran-Smith : Come to study the nature of man and beast—and woman. Are you going to give me a nice room—maybe next door to your own?

Narrator 2 : Attention!! Padhaar rahe hai Mr. Mathur, IAS, Joint Secretary and Director of tourism. Hotel department inhe Burra Sahib ke naam se janta hai

[Sound of car approaching. Commisionaire and Bearer 1 go to receive new visitor. Enter Mr Mathur dressed like a typical Indian civil servant with rose bud in his third button hole a la Nehru, transistor across shoulder, cigar in mouth.]

Receptionist : Good evening, sir.

Mathur : [Ignores greeting—turns back to holler] Ae Chowkidar! Suitcase handle se mat pakad, Chaprasi, briefcase room tak leke ja.

and What's your name ... Miss . . . Miss ...

Receptionist : Ahmed, sir.

Narrator 1 - Arre suna apne!! Shamnagar ke maharaja aane wale hai. Jo ek zamane mei baago ka shikar karte the ab unhe bas dekhna chahte hai.

Narrator 2: (whispers to the audience) Lagta hai bandook mein ab Barood nahi bachaa

[Sound of car, slamming of doors, etc. Commissionaire looks up without getting up. Maharaja's servant brings in suitcases. Maharaja follows, dressed in jodhpurs and open collar shirt. Commissionaire stands up and salutes.]

Maharaja: Sat Sri Akal, Sardar Sahib. Jungle ke beech-o-beech kya shandar mahal banaya hai[Greets Receptionist Indian style] Namaskar. I trust you have a room for me and my companion.

Receptionist: [Pushing the visitors' book in front of him] Yes, Your Highness. We do.

Commissionaire (to Receptionist) – Ab inhe dekho har naksh se Maharaj lagte hai..

Receptionist - Ye Maharaja hua karte the Shardool Singh. Aj kal ke raja toh Burra Sahib aur ye ameer foreign sahib hai…

Act One Scene II

(Scene: Same as in Scene I except for a standard oil lamp in a corner and another on the Receptionist's desk. The Receptionist and Commissionaire are in their respective places. The Bearer brings tray with coffee percolator, cups, saucers, lays them on the table and retires.

Background sounds: jungle noises, mainly the cheep of crickets, and people talking in the dining-room. They come out talking loudly, led by Mathur and Mrs Schneiderman. Commissionaire stands up.)

Mathur : As I was saying, Mrs Schneiderman, in our next Five Year Plan, we have made provision for building tourist bungalows in all our wildlife sanctuaries.

Mrs Schneiderman : Isn't that nice! Did you hear that, Alfie, they're going to build lots of places like this one.

Mr Schneiderman : [A little inebriated] I am all for it. But you must do away with all this 'Dry Day' foolishness.

Mathur : Drinking is not in our tradition, Mr Schneiderman. Mahatma Gandhi, Father of our nation, considered it a great sin. We are hoping that by the end of the next Five Year Plan, most of India will be dry.

Mr Schneiderman : [Produces a hip-flask and places it next to sign saying 'Dry Day ] I hope you won't object to my having some brandy with my coffee. Your Highness, it's three-star Napolean.

Maharaja : Thank you very much Mr Schneiderman, I don't drink.

Mr Schneiderman: You, sir, with the double-barrelled name.

Conran-Smith : If you mean me, the answer is no. I do not imbibe liquor. I prefer to smoke pot—Non-habit forming, much more fun than any three-hundred star brandy. And taken by the greatest people in the world but I am afraid I cannot offer it to anyone. It’s too expensive and forbidden by the law. [Proceeds to light his pipe]

Maharaja : Bravo, Mr Conran-Smith! Freedom to break the law shall hereafter be recognized as a fundamental right of the greatest people in the world. [Conran-Smith bows]

Mr Schneiderman : Mister Mathoor, I take it you won't jail me for taking a few drops of brandy?

Mathur : Ha! Ha! Just to prove that we are not a narrow-minded people I will join you – but just a tear drop, as the French say.

Maharaja :Shabash Mathur Sahab! You maintain the honoured tradition of the Civil Service which considers itself above the law.

Mathur : [Ignoring Maharaja's sarcasm] Mrs Schneiderman, you must visit some of our great dams. 'Temples of New India', as our late Prime Minister Mr Nehru called them. In the current Five Year Plan ...

Mrs Schneiderman : Coffee everyone? Do forgive my interruption—please go on with your temples. We saw some very nice old ones at Konarak and Khajuraho. Alfie was quite excited by them, weren't you, Alfie?

Mr Schneiderman : Jesus! Never seen anything like it in all my sixty years. For making love, give it to the Hindoo. Standing up, sitting down, lying on a bed of nails..

(Everyone yells Woah!)

Mathur : I am sorry I do not like this kind of sexy talk in the presence of ladies. [Turning to Mrs Schneiderman] I was not talking of those kinds of temples; I meant the wonderful new things coming up in India—like our big steel plants at Durgapur, Rourkela and Bhilai.

Maharaja : One built by the British, one by the Russians, one by the Germans.

Mathur : Foreign aid is useful. Our economy will soon become self-expanding. You see, Mr Schneiderman, India is not properly understood abroad. Our propaganda is not very effective.

Maharaja : Famines make better stories than Five Year Plans, Mathur sahab.

Mathur : I do not care what you or anybody else says. I know India's millions are on the march. India will soon rise and become the leader of the free nations of the world.

Conran-Smith : [Loudly humming the Internationale] Indians of the world arise, you have nothing to lose but your loin cloths.

Maharaja : That will most definitely not help our family planning programmes. Will it, Mr Mathur?

Mathur : All people like you can do is to make fun of everything. Even our birth control plans are forging ahead. In the next Five Year Plan ...

Mr Schneiderman : [Turning to Receptionist] Come and join us for coffee. We can't have you standing there looking at us.

Receptionist : No thank you, sir, I am on duty.

Mrs Schneiderman : Come on, honey!

Conran-Smith : [Getting up and drawing up a chair] Remember the Indian maxim Yasmeen, Guest is God! The gods order you to have coffee with them.

[All men except Mathur stand up] Mrs Schneiderman : How do you like it, my dear?

Receptionist : Just black, Mrs Schneiderman.

Maharaja : Must be very lonely for you in this jungle.

Mathur :Don’t worry I will transfer her to another station. [Turning to Receptionist] Remind me about it when I get back to Delhi; I will pass orders.

Receptionist: But I am very happy here, sir.

Mathur : That has nothing to do with it. A jungle is not a suitable station for a lady. Have you made arrangements to take us on a sightseeing tour?

Receptionist : Yes, sir. We have a jeep fitted with searchlights. Sardool Singh will escort you. He knows the jungle well. As soon as you have finished your coffee.

Mr Schneiderman : And our cigars. [Taking tubes out of his pocket] Anyone care for a genuine Havana? You, sir, Maharaja of whatever-it-is?

Maharaja : No, thank you, Mr Schneiderman. I do not smoke.

Mr Schneiderman : Hey what kind of Maharaja are you? You don't drink, you don't smoke. Next you'll be telling us you don't have a harem. How many wives do you have anyway?

Maharaja : Only one, Mr Schneiderman. By Maharaja's standards I am almost a bachelor. [All laugh]

Mathur : You see, the days of Maharajas with many wives are over. In new India ...

Maharaja : It's the days of ministers industrialists and civil servants with many mistresses. [Louder laughter]

Mr Schneiderman : ( offering cigar)How about you, Mr. Government of India?

Mrs Schneiderman : Don't mind him, Mr Mathoor, he's like that on one whisky.

Mathur : Not at all. I'll try one if I may. Actually we make very good cigars in India. We have launched an export promotion scheme .. .

[Buzz on switchboard. Receptionist hurries to answer. Jungle noises begin to filter in—jackals, later tigers.]

Receptionist : Hotel Wild Life, good evening. Who is this? Haan..haan.. Police Station ? Acha..Hum toh jungle ke liye nikalne hi wale the. Sab theek toh hai? …Haan haan , humare paas shikhari hain…Acha I'll let you know if anything happens. [Puts back receiver] [Addressing guests] Sir, a woman was lifted an hour ago in Badi village only half-a—mile from here.

Mathur : Lifted? Who lifted her?

Receptionist : A tiger. The police officer says it's the third case this month. He says no one must go out at night; doors and windows must be kept shut. He says it's a man-eater. [Sounds of jungle are louder now—jackals howling, then roar of a tiger. Lights fade slowly. Commissionaire draws trellis gate from either side.]

Act One Scene III

[Scene: Same as in Scenes I and II. Standard oil lamp is now shedding light on the table. Receptionist, in dressing gown is relaxing in armchair, with legs on table; she, is reading. A transistor on the table plays sitar music. Commissionaire is asleep on steps of the entrance, holding gun against his chest. Occasional snore. Jungle noises in the background. Conran-Smith comes down with tape-recorder slung across shoulder.]

Conran-Smith : [Comes in humming] There was a young lady of NigerWho smiled as she rode on a tiger;They returned from the rideWith the lady inside,And the smile on the face of the tiger

Receptionist : [Startled] Good god Conran! Don't tell me you mean to go out in the jungle?

Conran-Smith : I do! To make the world's first recording of a man-eater eating a woman.

Receptionist : That's not funny. Besides, you cannot leave the hotel without my permission. I forbid it.

Conran-Smith : 0 Queen of the Himalayan jungle, your order will be obeyed. 0 Lovely Empress of Hearts, can't you also command me to hold your beautiful hands? (Holds Hand)

Receptionist : [Slapping it away] You may not. You do not realize I am on duty here and holding visitors' hands is not a part of my duties.

Conran-Smith : Then we must get Mr Mathur to amend your job description. 'In order to promote tourism during the fifth Five-Year Plan all lady Receptionists will hereafter be expected to allow their hands to be held by visitors—signed A.N. Mathur for the Government of India. [Takes Receptionist's hand and kisses it. She does not withdraw hand]

Receptionist : 0 Jack, I wish you'd stop playing the buffoon sometime.

Conran-Smith : Do you still doubt that I love you?

Do you want me to prove it by walking into the jaws of a man-eater?

Receptionist : Rubbish! You just equate love with lust. It's like being drunk or stoned—only for a much shorter time. [Freeing her hand] What would Mr Mathur think if he were to come down now?

Conran-Smith : That's all that worries you? What will people think. To hell with people!

Conran-Smith : [Gets up, comes behind Receptionist's chair, touches her shoulder] Yasmeen Ahmed, I love you.

Receptionist : Coming from you love sounds like an obscene four-letter word. Enough of that. You better get back to your room —please!

Conran-Smith : Okay—let me just record your voice for keeps. If I cannot record a woman-eating tiger, I'll settle for a man-eating tigress. [Opens tape-recorder]

Receptionist : I haven't a very good voice and I have very little to say for myself.

Conran-Smith : The moving tape moves on, recording a pregnant silence.

Receptionist : Oh dear! Let me think. Perhaps a little poem. 'Tyger, tyger burning bright In the forest of the night What immortal hand or eye Framed thy fearful symmetry?'

I don't remember the rest.

Conran-Smith: Now listen. [Plays back first verse] Your voice is as beautiful as your face. I expect your body is more beautiful than either.

Receptionist : Lecherous bastard! Go back to bed and get some sleep. [Gets up] I beg of you Conrad. Don’t embarrass me anymore.

Conran-Smith : For further proof of British randiness you can always come to Room Nine. [Squeezes her hand] Good night!

[Exit.Receptionist resumes seat and fiddles with recorder. Enter Maharaja. Receptionist startled. Puts feet down from the table]

Maharaja : I am sorry to disturb you. Please, please do not get up. I thought I heard that English boy's voice and came down to see if he was making a nuisance of himself.

Receptionist : [Switches off tape-recorder winding backwards] Not at all, Your Highness. He is a very nice young man—only a little crazy. He wanted to go out to record calls of wild animals. I refused to let him out. Do sit down, Your Highness. Can I make you a cup of coffee?

Maharaja : [Takes chair] No, thank you. No coffee. One can never be too sure of these hippie types who wear flowers and profess to make love all the time.

'Make love not war'— If I were to go out into the jungle now and say, 'Shri Man-eaterjee, I love you,' would it make him change his mind?

Receptionist : That's different, it's the law of the jungle.

Maharaja : Precisely! One nation produces a new kind of bomb. What is its neighbouring nation to do except to produce a bigger man-eating bomb? It's the same, the law of the jungle.

Receptionist : And so we go on.

Maharaja : So we go on—from stones to supersonic bombers. That's how we'll go on. [Mrs Schneiderman appear at the back and listens]

Mrs Schneiderman: [Coming forward] I heard that anti-American talk. We are Americans and proud of being American. [Receptionist and Maharaja stand up]

Receptionist : Do sit down.

Maharaja : We were not criticizing your country, Mrs Schneiderman. We were not criticizing any country. We were talking of the doom of the world.

Mrs Schneiderman : That's fine. It's not right to criticize the United States for everything that happens. We feed half the hungry people of the world, you know.

Maharaja : Quite right, Mrs Schneiderman. You have much to be proud of. Tell me, do you have any views on what to do when there is a man-eating tiger outside?

Mrs Schneiderman : Don't tell me a big, brave Maharaja like you is scared of over-sized pussy cats!

Maharaja : As a matter of fact I am. That's why I came out of my room—looking for company and comfort. Isn't that why you came here too, Mrs Schneiderman?

Mrs Schneiderman : [Laughing nervously] That's right. Why, every time that darned tiger growls, it scares the daylight out of me. Yasmeen dear—your name is Yasmeen, isn't it? You must be an awfully brave girl to live alone in a place like this. Doesn't it frighten you?

Receptionist : Of course it does. I am terrified. That’s why I came down to talk to the Commissionaire. But he—just look at him.

Mrs Schneiderman : He's worse than my Alfie. Alfie at least snores to let you know he's there—and alive.

[Commissionaire snores] He's alive all right. Men are so insensitive. Begging your pardon, Your Highness.

Maharaja : Not at all, Mrs Schneiderman. Women are naturally more concerned when the lives of children is in danger.

Mrs Schneiderman : Now look at this- There are wild beasts thirsting for our blood —the men sleep through, the only two women in the place are the only ones really concerned.

Maharaja : More scared than concerned Mrs Schneiderman.

Mrs Schneiderman : Put it any way you like. But it does make you think why the world is in such a mess.

Maharaja : I do not understand you.

Mrs Schneiderman : Look at all these bombs going around these days? What do you think men are doing about it? Making more bombs.

Receptionist : How right you are, Mrs Schneiderman.

Mrs Schneiderman : Exactly! Like here—man-eater prowling about and look at that man! [Commissionaire snores ... ]

Mrs Schneiderman : And then there's my Alfie, snoring without a care in the world.

Maharaja : When it comes to fears, Mrs. Schneiderman, the ignorant are as well off as the knowledgeable. It's the in-betweens who suffer.

Mrs Schneiderman : Your Highness is such a philosopher.

Maharaja :Mrs Schneiderman, please do not address me like that. My name is Vijay—my friends calls me Bijjoo. I am not a philosopher. All I know is that if I went into the jungle and told this man-eater, 'I am the Maharaja of Shamnagar, please go away from here,' he would use some four-letter growl and tell me to buzz off. [Mathur appears at the back] Though on second thought he might have a little more respect for a real ruler, someone like our director of tourism.

Mathur : What were you saying about me?

Maharaja : We were wondering whether you as representative of the Government of India could go into the jungle and order the man-eater to go away.

Mathur : Maharaja Sahib has a strange sense of humour.

Maharaja : That is all that your government has left me with, Mr Mathur.

Mrs Schneiderman : Don't tell me, Mr Mathoor, you too are scared?

Mathur : Scared? Scared of what? I was working. You see I have so many files to dispose of and so many reports to write. I just heard your voices and came down to see if all is well. You see, Mrs Schneiderman, I am responsible for your safety.

In the morning I'll get the police to organize a hunt for this man-eater. We may need the co-operation of all the men—the shikari and yours as well, Maharaja Sahib. In your time, you must have killed many tigers.

Maharaja : I have never killed one, Mr Mathur, I do not know how they are killed, nor do I intend to. But perhaps I join as a beaters and shout Ho, ho.

Mathur : We'll see, we'll see. (waves his hand) I don't suppose that English boy will be any good.

Maharaja : He does not look as if he had ever fired anything more powerful than a pop-gun.

Mrs Schneiderman : I don't care very much for these psychedelic types. We've a bunch of them back home.

Receptionist : Mr Conran-Smith is not that bad, ma’am. He only wants to be left alone in peace.

Mrs Schneiderman : I don't mean to be harsh, my dear, but this business of wanting to be alone to smoke pot ...

Maharaja : And make love to anyone and everyone he can ...

Mathur : That's very immoral.

Maharaja : And very inappropriate in a time like this.

Mrs Schneiderman : But let's not be too hard on the poor boy. May be he has his own point of view and his own philosophy of life. Well, I am going to turn in and try to get some sleep.

Maharaja : Me too. Goodnight.

Mathur : Goodnight everyone. Sleep well.

Receptionist : Goodnight, sir, goodnight, Madam. I'll turn down the lights after you have got to your rooms.

[Exit everyone except Receptionist. She dims the lights, lights a cigarette and fiddles with the tape-recorder. A little rewinding.)

Act Two

(Time: Next morning. Scene: Same as before. The Commissionaire and the Receptionist are at their respective places—he sitting on the ground, she making entries in book. The Bearer's dusting chairs, tables, emptying ashtrays, etc.)

Commissionaire : Kya neend thi, Miss Sahibji! Aap toh badi thaki hui lag rahi hai. Soyi nahi kya?

Receptionist : Agar tum us narbhakshe bag ke paas hote toh shayad mein so pati. Poori raat kharate le rehe the. Tum itne chen se so kaise paye

Commissionaire : Budha shikari hoon, Miss Sahibji. Itna toh pata hi hai ki- Bag ne abhi abhi shikar kiya hai. Ab aur kuch din tak kisi ko nahi marega.

Receptionist: Arre Sardool Singh, tumne yeh pehle kyun nahi bataya.

Commissionaire: Miss Sahibji, mujhe dar tha ki gauv wale us aurat ki laash ko utha nah le. Agar aisa ho gaya toh Rab hi Rakhwala!

Receptionist : Is sab se ab kya farak padhta hai, Sardool Singh. Sab toh vaise hi dare hue hain.. Tumhare aur us mote American sahib ke aalava koi so bhi nahi paya.

[Guests come out from dining-room talking loudly. Commissionaire stands up and salutes]

Mr Schneiderman : Aha! What a mighty good nap! Never slept better in my life. Gimme the fresh air of the Indian jungle. No horns honking beep, beep ... no roar of jets going whoosh. The great silence of a primeval forest,

Cigar anyone?First of the day after breakfast tastes best. [Only Mathur accepts]

Mrs Schneiderman : How selfish can you be, Alfie? You are the only one who got any sleep. The rest of us were up most of the night. We were worried to death, weren't we Mr Mathoor?

Mathur : [Nodding towards the Commissionaire] Our chowkidar also slept through. The tiger could have devoured all of us without disturbing his sleep. Miss Ahmed, you must make a formal report of his conduct. For a watchman to sleep is grave dereliction of duty.

Maharaja : Why not…Why not Mathur Sahab. Let’s institute a committee of inquiry? Terms of reference, conduct in face of danger. I take it, Mathur sahab, aapka conduct as a senior officer toh perfect hai!

Mathur : [Sharply] My conduct is not in question, Your Highness. I have to see that no one comes to harm. That is why we employ a watchman.

Maharaja : Then order the detention of Mr Conran-Smith too. He did try to go out into the jungle at night to do some mischief. What about that?

Mr Schneiderman : [Imitating British accent] Did you really, Connie old boy! Whatever for?

Conran-Smith : [Imitating American accent] Yeah! To see whadda man-eater does to a dead dame.

Mr Schneiderman : I'll be damned!

Mathur: Onto more important things [Turning to the Receptionist] Miss Ahmed, ring up the police station and ask them if it is safe to go out in the daytime.

Receptionist : Yes, sir. [Plugs switch-board]

Mathur :Mr Schneiderman, our ancients have wisely said that most human tears are imaginary, we mistake a rope for a serpent and panic.

Mr Schneiderman : I never understand anything you Indians say.

Conran-Smith : Mr Schneiderman, Indians have a genius for making simple things sound very complicated. Their mind is like a cork-screw.

Mr Schneiderman : That's not a very nice thing to say—in the middle of India.

Mathur : The British have always hated India and Indians.

Conran-Smith : Not India, Mr Mathur—and not all Indians either. Just the educated ones. My father used to describe the educated Indians as 'arrogant little bottom-licking wogs'.

Mrs Schneiderman : Mr Conran-Smith! How absolutely outrageous! How can you ...

Receptionist : [Interrupting] Excuse me, Madam .. . sir, it's the police station. They say that it’s a gazetted holiday. They have no officer on duty

Maharaja : I am sure they’ve taken their family to see some film. Relax everyone. We have been told it is a holiday. Even the tiger respects government orders.

Mathur : For people like you and Mr Conran-Smith, nothing is right with this country. But neither your kind, the princes, nor his, the British, count for anything in this new world. Thank god for that.

Conran-Smith : Amen.

Maharaja : Ameen—that's the same in this part of the world.

Mr Schneiderman : Really, what kind of people are you? Here we are in a booby trap and all you can do is talk. You Indians must be the biggest gas-bags in the world.

Mrs Schneiderman : Why, if this was in the United States I would simply have to buzz for the police or the fire brigade and they would settle this man-eater in a jiffy—bang, bang, bang.

Maharaja : Exactly as they are doing in Vietnam. Bang, bang, and more bang

Mathur quiets everyone

[Sounds of yelling, drums, cymbals. Roar of tiger retreating. Wailing of women.]

Mathur :Chowkidar, yeh shor kaisa?

Commissionaire : Sahib, yeh bahut burri khabar hai. Lagta hai gav valo ko us aurat ki laash mil gayi hai.

Mathur : Arre, yeh bura kaise?

Commissionaire : Sahib, kya baat karte hain? Agar baag ka shikar le liye, toh use majbooran phir se shikar karna padhega.

Act Three Scene I

(Time: Afternoon of second day. Scene: Same as in Acts I and II. The trellis gate is drawn. When the curtain rises only the Receptionist is at her desk. Conran-Smith comes into the foyer.)

Conran-Smith : I cannot believe my eyes: a lonely, luscious bait for a hungry British lion. Where is everyone?

Receptionist: Mathur was sitting here a moment ago. When the Schneidermans asked for soda and ice to be sent to their room. He went back to his.

Conran- Smith: And the Chowkidaar?

Receptionist :Sardool Singh has gone to the village to see if he can get beaters. He thinks they will help flush out the tiger and he may get a shot at the beast.

Conran-Smith : With that Mutiny model of a bandook! He must be deluded.

Receptionist : Give it to him, he is doing his bit, which is more than can be said of the others—not excluding present company.

Conran-Smith : What do you expect us to do? Offer ourselves as sacrifice to the tiger

Receptionist : Shut up! I do not mean anything of the sort—and you know it. All I ask is, 'Here we are in this mess. What is anyone doing about it?' Only an illiterate, retired sepoy has had the nerve to try. Neither Schniederman nor the Maharaja, nor Mathur nor indeed Shri Jack Conran-Smith have done anything about it.

Conran-Smith : Fiddle-sticks!

Receptionist : I beg your pardon!

Conran-Smith : Fiddle-sticks, tommy-rot and poppy-cock

{ Sounds of Villagers Jabbering. Sardool Singh asks them to wait and keep quiet.]

Conran-Smith : Here comes the hairy re-incarnation of Vishnu, the Preserver.

Receptionist :Sardool Singh, did you have any luck with the villagers?

Commissionaire : [Wagging his head] No, Miss Sahibji, bade hi dheeth hai. Aurat ki laash lene gaye the aur uss bag ko teer se zakhmein kar diya. AApko toh pata hi hoga ki zakhmein bag kaisa hota hai.( Sarpanch comes in)

Sarpanch: Ab yeh sab nahi chalega! Humari Raksha kaun karega! Humne apni ek aurat ko tyaag diya, ab aap sab sahiblogo ki baari hai!! (Villagers shout)(Sardool Singh drives them out) [Lights begin to dim to create effect of twilight]

Receptionist: Sardool Singh, yeh sab toh pagal ho gaye hain. Humse kurbaani chahate hain.

Commissionaire : Nahi Nahi, Miss Sahib. Aap Shant ho jayea. Bechare dare hue hain. Bas sahib logo ki madad chahate hain.

Conran-Smith : My Hindustani is not very good, but am I correct in understanding that the villagers want one of us to go and kill the wounded man-eater?

Receptionist : That is the general idea. They are willing to do their bit if the big Sahibs can lead them.

Sardool Singh, inhe aise mat bhagao. Ek baari Burra sahib se baat toh karne do. Bearer inhe gate ke paas baitha do.

Commissionaire :Bahut accha, Miss Sahib. [Fade in sounds of jungle, with bellowing of tiger first at a distance, getting nearer with each roar.]

Act Three Scene II

(Time: Same night after dinner. Scene: Same as before. The oil lamps are lit. In one corner near the Commissionaire's seat, four villagers are huddled up beside him. The Receptionist is at her desk. Sounds: jungle noises and sounds of drums, yelling, etc. to be kept in background throughout. Guests emerge from the dining-room, led by Mathur and Schneiderman, both smoking cigars. Schneiderman has a bottle of cognac in his hand. They pause before coming to the foyer.)

Mr Schneiderman : Let's have some coffee and cognac. Miss Ahmed, could you ask the Bearer to get us brandy glasses when he brings in the coffee?

Receptionist : Certainly, sir. [Taps bell]

Mathur : [Seeing the villagers who stand up and salaam] Chowkidar, en gavwaloon ko hotel mein kaise aane diya! Bhaagao inhe!

Receptionist : [Intervening] Sir, they are from Badi where the woman was killed. They have come for help. They are frightened so I let them sit inside the gate till you had spoken to them.

Mathur : What am I supposed to do? Go and kill the tiger with my bare hands?

Maharaja:Wah kya conduct hai, Mathur Sahab.

Mathur : Stop being sarcastic with me, Maharaja Sahab.

Mrs Schneiderman : Now, now, now. I wish you men would stop sniping at each other. [Bearer brings in tray of coffee and brandy glasses]

[Mr Schneiderman pours himself a brandy, then holds it up to ask the others. In turn they all accept. They drink and smoke in silence for about a minute]

Mr Schneiderman : Well!

Conran-Smith : Well what?

Mr Schneiderman : Isn't somebody going to do something to help these people? Mr Government of India ...

Mathur : What can I or any government do in this situation? We are perfectly safe in the hotel; the villagers are looking after their safety as best as they can. Tomorrow I will send for the armed police. There is no need for anyone to do anything immediately.

Maharaja : Also remember, Mr. Schneiderman, it's a gazetted holiday. That goes for the armed police as well as the joint secretary. Unfortunately for us, death takes no holiday.

Mathur : [Angrily] You have done nothing except criticize the government and poke fun at me. After all, this is all your class is good for – Drink, womanize and criticize everyone. Why don't you go out and shoot the tiger? You could add him to your collection of tiger skins.

Maharaja : There is no reason to lose your temper, Mr Mathur. I do not deny that the princely order has acquired certain immoral tastes —but I have disinherited myself from all that.

This is your domain. You are the officer-in-charge. This hotel is in your parish. Our lives and safety and those of the villagers are your responsibility.

Conran-Smith : This in common English parlance is known as passing the buck.

Maharaja : An art which you Britishers have mastered to perfection. And you, Mr Conran-Smith, have surely inherited the trait in full measure.

Mr Schneiderman : Gentlemen, gentlemen. Let's keep our tempers under control—and our heads on our shoulders. [Pours cognac in glasses] Let's drink to peace, goodwill and understanding. [All except Conran-Smith raise their glasses and drink]

Conran-Smith : You got them in the wrong order—first understanding, then goodwill and finally peace. [Pours cognac into glasses] Another toast in the right sequence.

All : To understanding, goodwill and peace.

Mrs Schneiderman : I am afraid I’ve have had too much to drink. And I guess no one is anxious to be alone in their room. Why don't we just relax here and keep each other company?

Conran-Smith : A jolly good idea. Maybe Miss Ahmed can get some nice sitar music on her radio. [Men arrange chairs to stretch legs, Receptionist fiddles with transistor]

Maharaja : If the music fails, Mr Mathur can tell us of the Five Year Plans—that will surely lull us to sleep. [All laugh—a little drunk] [Receptionist finds station with sitar music and places transistor on the table.]

Receptionist : There. Lovely psychedelic music. What do we say to the villagers?

Mathur : Nothing. They can wait. In any case they are sound asleep.

[Receptionist lowers the light of the lamps and finds herself an easy chair. Guests drop off to sleep one by one. The jungle sounds are more distinct. Maintain scene for a minute or more. Conran-Smith gets up, makes sure everyone is asleep. He tiptoes towards the Commissionaire, slowly extricates the gun out of his grasp and goes out of the trellis gate. After another minute, the roar of the tiger becomes louder and closer. Guests begin to wake in alarm and look around. There is a loud roar as when a tiger springs to attack, and then the report of a gun]