Blood, Bonds, Barbed Wires- Scene 1

We hear things about a million people every day, cross by at least thousand, meet somewhere around a hundred acquaintances out of which we claim to know at least ten. There are people we know, people we've heard about, people we admire, who admire us. People we love, have wild fantasies about, who probably have never even heard our name. And out of this hullabaloo of people we have odd links with is the one made for us.

We know we'll meet them someday, realize they're the ones made for us and then probably plan on spending the rest of our lives with them, but what about the ones we collide with on our way to this Mister/ Miss perfect?

What about the second best or the third best options that failed to be a permanent accessory in our lives just because they had a bit missing here and a bit missing there? Hitches that have their roots planted over decades?
Snags our ancestors picked up for us? Quarrels beyond repair, inborn hostility and then a streak of affection at first sight...
I was supposed to write a fifteen page long play as my coursework for a module this semester, this is what I came up with. A few chapters that I will be posting every now and then. A story where he loves her, she loves him, he's honest, she's loyal, but to unite they need to swim against waves of sixty year old hatred that has broken the hearts of many, crushed their souls and are still crashing on the shores of a million young hearts.
This play has nothing to do with me apart from the fact that I'm deeply attracted to someone I can never even dream of being with in distant future. All that joins me to this play is pity for those who aren't blessed with a sense of reality unlike me, those who are/have been/will be subjected to this nasty game fate has been playing since the past six decades.
Here's to 'someone'... just not the one for me!



                                                  Blood, Bonds, Barbed Wires.

SCENE 1 : India v/s England

           

            June 2033, an Asian restaurant overlooking the Thames. A young Indian lad  is seated on a barstool gulping down beer with his eyes glued to the Cricket match playing on the plasma T.V.  It’s the semi-final of the World Cup where India needs to beat England to play against Pakistan in the final. An old man in his fifties is seated next to him and often stares at the young lad. The man has a big belly, he’s fair and is wearing a cardigan and a beret.

Sidharth (in a British Indian accent) Jesus Christ! One run to a century and Tendulkar’s out, I can’t fucking believe this shit!

Omar (gulping beer) Thank your God he didn’t strike hundred. India loses every single time Tendulkar hits a century (pauses and sips beer). Its like this weird omen, he falls at ninety-nine, and India wins. He scores hundred, and they lose.

Sidharth(laughing) Yeah, but there ain’t no batsman better than him, he’s ‘Master Blaster’, the GOD of Cricket.

Omar (nods in agreement) So where in India are you from? Let me guess, North, yeah?

Sidharth Yeah, Punjab. (finishes his bottle of beer and orders more)

Omar I figured.

Sidharth You did, how?

Omar The deafening pitch of your voice, your burning enthusiasm and the exaggerated way of expression (pauses and thinks).Oh and to top it all your capacity to drink. You remind me of an old friend from Punjab (smiles and shakes his head)

Sidharth Hah! Yeah, we’re all like that. (pauses) Actually, my mum’s from India. I was born here, in England. I grew up in Birmingham. What about you? Where are you from, New Delhi?

Omar (abruptly) No, Ealing! I mean, originally from Pakistan but I got no one there now (gets lost in thought).

Sidharth (takes a few sips of his beer and snaps his fingers in front of the man) You alright? (The man nods and smiles half-heartedly).  I’m Sidharth, by the way. You can call me Sid.

Omar Omar, Omar Khan(extends his hand for a handshake.) So what do you do young fellow, apart from watching cricket and gulping beer?

Sidharth I (gives an embarrassed laugh) I’m still studying my options. I’m a Business Graduate, but I want to do something creative. Something colorful, and fun. You know, like being a D.J (pauses, looks at the bartender and gives her a wink) or maybe bartending. (Smiles sheepishly)

Omar (maturely) You mean you don’t know.

Sidharth (proudly) Exactly!

Omar   I see. And what brings you all the way to London?

            Sidharth pauses as his expression gets intense and his tone changes             from chirpy to grave.

Sidharth To meet my… (pauses and contemplates). A friend. I’m here to meet a friend.

The Bartender(to Sidharth) Sir, It’s time for the bar to close. Any last order?

Sidharth sighs and picks up his jacket. Cursing under his breath and signaling for the bill.

Omar (to the Bartender) He’s my guest Samantha, you guys pack up. We’ll manage.

Sidharth (impressed and confused) Is this your pub, dude?

Omar Yes ‘dude’, this is my pub. Come on lets have another beer. Drinks on me tonight.

Sidharth(puzzled) Wow-ow-ow! Hang on a sec, why would you want to give me free beer?

Omar (casually) I told you, you remind me of someone.

Sidharth (smirks) Ok who is this friend of yours that’s fetching me free beer?

Omar (smiles and gets lost in thought) Someone I loved…

Sidharth (rolls his eyes and sits back on the bar stool) You were in love with a man?

Omar (hitting Sidharth lightly on his arm) No silly, can’t you remind me of a girl?

Sidharth (offended) Are you trying to say I look like a girl?

Omar Do you always speak so much?

Sidharth Could be, it’s in the genes. So do I look like your girlfriend?

Omar It’s not just the way you look. There’s just something about you that makes you so much like her.

Sidharth Really? Like what?

Omar Let’s do a thing, Let me tell you a story.

Sidharth (innocently) Only if you give me free munchies to go along with beer (grins)