This is a modern-English version of The Post Office, originally written by Tagore, Rabindranath. It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling, and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.

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Produced by Eric Eldred and Chetan K. Jain

The Post Office

By Rabindranath Tagore

[Translated from Bengali to English by Devabrata Mukherjee]

[New York: The Macmillan Company, 1914
Copyright 1914, by Mitchell Kennerley;
Copyright, 1914 by The Macmillan Company]

DRAMATIS PERSONÃƒÂƒÃ‚Â†

MADHAV
AMAL, his adopted child
SUDHA, a little flower girl
THE DOCTOR
DAIRYMAN
WATCHMAN
GAFFER
VILLAGE HEADMAN, a bully
KING'S HERALD
ROYAL PHYSICIAN

THE POST OFFICE

ACT I

[Madhav's House]

[Madhav's Place]

Madhav. What a state I am in! Before he came, nothing mattered; I felt so free. But now that he has come, goodness knows from where, my heart is filled with his dear self, and my home will be no home to me when he leaves. Doctor, do you think he—

Madhav. What a situation I'm in! Before he showed up, nothing mattered; I felt so free. But now that he’s here, whoever knows from where, my heart is filled with thoughts of him, and my home won’t feel like a home once he’s gone. Doctor, do you think he—

Physician. If there's life in his fate, then he will live long. But what the medical scriptures say, it seems—

Physician. If there's life in his destiny, then he will survive for a long time. But what the medical texts say, it seems—

Madhav. Great heavens, what?

Madhav. Oh my God, what?

Physician. The scriptures have it: "Bile or palsey, cold or gout spring all alike."

Physician. The scriptures say: "Bile or paralysis, cold or gout, all arise similarly."

Madhav. Oh, get along, don't fling your scriptures at me; you only make me more anxious; tell me what I can do.

Madhav. Oh, come on, don’t throw your scriptures at me; all it does is make me more anxious; just tell me what I can do.

Physician [Taking snuff] The patient needs the most scrupulous care.

Doctor [Using snuff] The patient requires the highest level of care.

Madhav. That's true; but tell me how.

Madhav. That's true, but can you explain how?

Physician. I have already mentioned, on no account must he be let out of doors.

Physician. I already said, under no circumstances should he be allowed outside.

Madhav Poor child, it is very hard to keep him indoors all day long.

Madhav Poor kid, it’s really tough to keep him inside all day.

Physician. What else can you do? The autumn sun and the damp are both very bad for the little fellow—for the scriptures have it:

Physician. What else can you do? The autumn sun and the dampness are both really bad for the little guy—because the scriptures say:

"In wheezing, swoon or in nervous fret,
In jaundice or leaden eyes—"

"In wheezing, fainting, or in anxious distress,
In jaundice or heavy eyes—"

Madhav. Never mind the scriptures, please. Eh, then we must shut the poor thing up. Is there no other method?

Madhav. Forget about the scriptures, please. Well, then we have to silence the poor thing. Is there no other way?

Physician. None at all: for, "In the wind and in the sun—"

Physician. Not at all: for, "In the wind and in the sun—"

Madhav. What will your "in this and in that" do for me now? Why don't you let them alone and come straight to the point? What's to be done then? Your system is very, very hard for the poor boy; and he is so quiet too with all his pain and sickness. It tears my heart to see him wince, as he takes your medicine.

Madhav. What will your "this and that" do for me now? Why don't you just leave them alone and get to the point? What should we do next? Your system is really tough on the poor boy, and he's so quiet despite all his pain and illness. It breaks my heart to see him wince while taking your medicine.

Physician. The more he winces, the surer is the effect. That's why the sage Chyabana observes: "In medicine as in good advices, the least palatable ones are the truest." Ah, well! I must be trotting now. [Exit]

Physician. The more he cringes, the more certain the outcome is. That’s why the wise Chyabana says: "In medicine, just like with good advice, the least pleasant ones are often the truest." Ah, well! I have to get going now. [Exit]

[Gaffer enters]

[Gaffer arrives]

Madhav. Well, I'm jiggered, there's Gaffer now.

Madhav. Well, I'm stunned, there's Gaffer now.

Gaffer. Why, why, I won't bite you.

Gaffer. Come on, I won't hurt you.

Madhav. No, but you are a devil to send children off their heads.

Madhav. No, but you’re really something to send kids off like that.

Gaffer. But you aren't a child, and you've no child in the house; why worry then?

Gaffer. But you're not a kid, and you don’t have any kids in the house; so why worry?

Madhav. Oh, but I have brought a child into the house.

Madhav. Oh, but I have brought a kid into the house.

Gaffer. Indeed, how so?

Boss. Indeed, how so?

Madhav. You remember how my wife was dying to adopt a child?

Madhav. Do you remember how my wife really wanted to adopt a child?

Gaffer. Yes, but that's an old story; you didn't like the idea.

Gaffer. Yeah, but that's a blast from the past; you weren't a fan of that idea.

Madhav. You know, brother, how hard all this getting money in has been. That somebody else's child would sail in and waste all this money earned with so much trouble—Oh, I hated the idea. But this boy clings to my heart in such a queer sort of way—

Madhav. You know, brother, how tough it's been to earn all this money. The thought that someone else's child would come in and waste all the money I've worked so hard for—Oh, I can't stand the idea. But this boy has a weird way of making me care for him—

Gaffer. So that's the trouble! and your money goes all for him and feels jolly lucky it does go at all.

Gaffer. So that's the problem! Your money goes all to him, and he feels pretty lucky it even goes anywhere at all.

Madhav. Formerly, earning was a sort of passion with me; I simply couldn't help working for money. Now, I make money and as I know it is all for this dear boy, earning becomes a joy to me.

Madhav. In the past, making money was kind of a obsession for me; I just couldn't stop working for cash. Now, I earn money knowing it’s all for this dear boy, so making money has become a pleasure for me.

Gaffer. Ah, well, and where did you pick him up?

Gaffer. Oh, really, where did you find him?

Madhav. He is the son of a man who was a brother to my wife by village ties. He has had no mother since infancy; and now the other day he lost his father as well.

Madhav. He is the son of my wife’s brother from the village. He hasn’t had a mother since he was a baby, and just recently, he lost his father too.

Gaffer. Poor thing: and so he needs me all the more.

Gaffer. Poor thing: he really needs me now more than ever.

Madhav. The doctor says all the organs of his little body are at loggerheads with each other, and there isn't much hope for his life. There is only one way to save him and that is to keep him out of this autumn wind and sun. But you are such a terror! What with this game of yours at your age, too, to get children out of doors!

Madhav. The doctor says all the organs in his tiny body are conflicted, and there isn't much hope for his survival. The only way to save him is to keep him away from this autumn wind and sun. But you’re such a menace! With this game you're playing at your age, trying to get kids outside!

Gaffer. God bless my soul! So I'm already as bad as autumn wind and sun, eh! But, friend, I know something, too, of the game of keeping them indoors. When my day's work is over I am coming in to make friends with this child of yours. [Exit]

Gaffer. Goodness gracious! So I'm already as bad as the autumn wind and sun, huh! But, my friend, I know a thing or two about keeping them inside. When my day's work is done, I’ll be coming in to befriend your child. [Exit]

[Amal enters]

[Amal arrives]

Amal. Uncle, I say, Uncle!

Amal. Uncle, I’m telling you, Uncle!

Madhav. Hullo! Is that you, Amal?

Madhav. Hey! Is that you, Amal?

Amal. Mayn't I be out of the courtyard at all?

Amal. Am I not allowed to leave the courtyard at all?

Madhav. No, my dear, no.

Madhav. No, sweetheart, no.

Amal. See, there where Auntie grinds lentils in the quirn, the squirrel is sitting with his tail up and with his wee hands he's picking up the broken grains of lentils and crunching them. Can't I run up there?

Amal. Look, over there where Auntie is grinding lentils in the quirn, the squirrel is sitting with its tail up, using its little hands to pick up the broken grains of lentils and munching on them. Can I go run over there?

Madhav. No, my darling, no.

Madhav. No, my love, no.

Amal. Wish I were a squirrel!—it would be lovely. Uncle, why won't you let me go about?

Amal. I wish I were a squirrel! That would be amazing. Uncle, why won't you let me roam around?

Madhav. Doctor says it's bad for you to be out.

Madhav. The doctor says it's not safe for you to be outside.

Amal. How can the doctor know?

Amal. How can the doctor tell?

Madhav. What a thing to say! The doctor can't know and he reads such huge books!

Madhav. Wow, what a thing to say! The doctor doesn't really know, and he reads these massive books!

Amal. Does his book-learning tell him everything?

Amal. Does his education really give him all the answers?

Madhav. Of course, don't you know!

Madhav. Of course, didn't you know!

Amal [With a sigh] Ah, I am so stupid! I don't read books.

Amal [With a sigh] Ah, I’m so dumb! I don’t read books.

Madhav. Now, think of it; very, very learned people are all like you; they are never out of doors.

Madhav. Now, think about it; really, really smart people are just like you; they never go outside.

Amal. Aren't they really?

Amal. Aren't they though?

Madhav. No, how can they? Early and late they toil and moil at their books, and they've eyes for nothing else. Now, my little man, you are going to be learned when you grow up; and then you will stay at home and read such big books, and people will notice you and say, "he's a wonder."

Madhav. No, how could they? From dawn to dusk, they work hard at their studies, and they don't pay attention to anything else. Now, my little guy, you’re going to be smart when you grow up; then you’ll stay home and read those huge books, and people will see you and say, "he's amazing."

Amal. No, no, Uncle; I beg of you by your dear feet—I don't want to be learned, I won't.

Amal. No, no, Uncle; I’m begging you by your precious feet—I don’t want to be educated, I won’t.

Madhav. Dear, dear; it would have been my saving if I could have been learned.

Madhav. Oh, how I wish I could have been educated; it would have really helped me.

Amal. No, I would rather go about and see everything that there is.

Amal. No, I’d prefer to explore and see everything there is.

Madhav. Listen to that! See! What will you see, what is there so much to see?

Madhav. Listen to that! Look! What will you see? What’s there to see?

Amal. See that far-away hill from our window—I often long to go beyond those hills and right away.

Amal. Look at that distant hill from our window—I often wish I could go beyond those hills and just escape.

Madhav. Oh, you silly! As if there's nothing more to be done but just get up to the top of that hill and away! Eh! You don't talk sense, my boy. Now listen, since that hill stands there upright as a barrier, it means you can't get beyond it. Else, what was the use in heaping up so many large stones to make such a big affair of it, eh!

Madhav. Oh, you silly! As if all we have to do is get to the top of that hill and leave! Seriously, you’re not making sense, my boy. Listen, since that hill is standing there like a barrier, it means you can’t get past it. Otherwise, why would they go through the trouble of piling up so many big stones to create such a massive structure, right?

Amal. Uncle, do you think it is meant to prevent your crossing over? It seems to me because the earth can't speak it raises its hands into the sky and beckons. And those who live far and sit alone by their windows can see the signal. But I suppose the learned people—

Amal. Uncle, do you think it’s supposed to stop you from crossing over? It seems to me that since the earth can’t talk, it raises its hands to the sky and waves. And those who live far away and sit alone by their windows can see the signal. But I guess the experts—

Madhav. No, they don't have time for that sort of nonsense. They are not crazy like you.

Madhav. No, they don’t have time for that kind of nonsense. They’re not crazy like you.

Amal. Do you know, yesterday I met someone quite as crazy as I am.

Amal. You know, yesterday I met someone just as crazy as I am.

Madhav. Gracious me, really, how so?

Madhav. Wow, seriously, how come?

Amal. He had a bamboo staff on his shoulder with a small bundle at the top, and a brass pot in his left hand, and an old pair of shoes on; he was making for those hills straight across that meadow there. I called out to him and asked, "Where are you going?" He answered, "I don't know, anywhere!" I asked again, "Why are you going?" He said, "I'm going out to seek work." Say, Uncle, have you to seek work?

Amal. He had a bamboo staff resting on his shoulder with a small bundle on top, a brass pot in his left hand, and an old pair of shoes on. He was heading towards the hills directly across that meadow. I called out to him and asked, "Where are you going?" He replied, "I don't know, anywhere!" I asked again, "Why are you going?" He said, "I'm going out to look for work." So, Uncle, do you need to look for work?

Madhav. Of course I have to. There's many about looking for jobs.

Madhav. Of course I have to. There are a lot of people out there looking for jobs.

Amal. How lovely! I'll go about, like them too, finding things to do.

Amal. How nice! I'll join in and find things to do like they do.

Madhav. Suppose you seek and don't find. Then—

Madhav. What if you look for something and can't find it? Then—

Amal. Wouldn't that be jolly? Then I should go farther! I watched that man slowly walking on with his pair of worn out shoes. And when he got to where the water flows under the fig tree, he stopped and washed his feet in the stream. Then he took out from his bundle some gram-flour, moistened it with water and began to eat. Then he tied up his bundle and shouldered it again; tucked up his cloth above his knees and crossed the stream. I've asked Auntie to let me go up to the stream, and eat my gram-flour just like him.

Amal. Wouldn’t that be great? Then I should go even further! I saw that man slowly walking along in his worn-out shoes. When he reached the spot where the water flows under the fig tree, he stopped and washed his feet in the stream. Then he took some gram flour from his bundle, mixed it with water, and started to eat. After that, he packed up his bundle, slung it over his shoulder again, rolled up his cloth above his knees, and crossed the stream. I’ve asked Auntie if I can go to the stream and eat my gram flour just like he did.

Madhav. And what did your Auntie say to that?

Madhav. So what did your aunt say about that?

Amal. Auntie said, "Get well and then I'll take you over there." Please, Uncle, when shall I get well?

Amal. Auntie said, "Get better and then I'll take you over there." Please, Uncle, when will I get better?

Madhav. It won't be long, dear.

Madhav. It won't be long, love.

Amal. Really, but then I shall go right away the moment I'm well again.

Amal. Seriously, I'll leave as soon as I'm better.

Madhav. And where will you go?

Madhav. So where are you headed?

Amal. Oh, I will walk on, crossing so many streams, wading through water. Everybody will be asleep with their doors shut in the heat of the day and I will tramp on and on seeking work far, very far.

Amal. Oh, I’ll keep walking, crossing all these streams, trudging through water. Everyone will be asleep with their doors closed in the heat of the day, and I’ll keep going and going, looking for work, far, very far.

Madhav. I see! I think you had better be getting well first; then—

Madhav. I see! I think you should focus on getting better first; then—

Amal. But then you won't want me to be learned, will you, Uncle?

Amal. But you don't want me to be smart, right, Uncle?

Madhav. What would you rather be then?

Madhav. So, what would you prefer to be?

Amal. I can't think of anything just now; but I'll tell you later on.

Amal. I can't think of anything right now, but I'll let you know later.

Madhav. Very well. But mind you, you aren't to call out and talk to strangers again.

Madhav. Alright. But just remember, you’re not supposed to shout or talk to strangers again.

Amal. But I love to talk to strangers!

Amal. But I love chatting with strangers!

Madhav. Suppose they had kidnapped you?

Madhav. What if they had kidnapped you?

Amal. That would have been splendid! But no one ever takes me away. They all want me to stay in here.

Amal. That would have been amazing! But no one ever takes me out. They all want me to stay in here.

Madhav. I am off to my work—but, darling, you won't go out, will you?

Madhav. I'm heading to work—but, sweetheart, you won't go out, right?

Amal. No, I won't. But, Uncle, you'll let me be in this room by the roadside.

Amal. No, I won't. But, Uncle, you'll let me stay in this room by the road.

[Exit Madhav]

Dairyman. Curds, curds, good nice curds.

Dairyman. Fresh curds, great tasty curds.

Amal. Curdseller, I say, Curdseller.

Amal. Cheese vendor, I say, Cheese vendor.

Dairyman. Why do you call me? Will you buy some curds?

Dairyman. Why are you calling me? Do you want to buy some cheese curds?

Amal. How can I buy? I have no money.

Amal. How can I buy it? I don't have any money.

Dairyman. What a boy! Why call out then? Ugh! What a waste of time.

Dairyman. What a kid! Why shout then? Ugh! What a waste of time.

Amal. I would go with you if I could.

Dairyman. With me?

Dairy farmer. You with me?

Amal. Yes, I seem to feel homesick when I hear you call from far down the road.

Amal. Yeah, I feel nostalgic when I hear you calling from down the road.

Dairyman [Lowering his yoke-pole] Whatever are you doing here, my child?

Dairyman [Lowering his yoke-pole] What are you doing here, my child?

Amal. The doctor says I'm not to be out, so I sit here all day long.

Amal. The doctor says I can't go out, so I just sit here all day.

Dairyman. My poor child, whatever has happened to you?

Dairyman. My poor child, what happened to you?

Amal. I can't tell. You see I am not learned, so I don't know what's the matter with me. Say, Dairyman, where do you come from?

Amal. I can't say. You see, I'm not educated, so I don't know what's wrong with me. So, Dairyman, where are you from?

Dairyman. From our village.

Dairy Farmer. From our village.

Amal. Your village? Is it very far?

Amal. Is your village far?

Dairyman. Our village lies on the river Shamli at the foot of the Panch-mura hills.

Dairyman. Our village is situated by the Shamli River, at the base of the Panch-mura hills.

Amal. Panch-mura hills! Shamli river! I wonder. I may have seen your village. I can't think when though!

Amal. Panch-mura hills! Shamli river! I’m curious. I think I might have seen your village. I just can’t remember when!

Dairyman. Have you seen it? Been to the foot of those hills?

Dairyman. Have you seen it? Have you been to the base of those hills?

Amal. Never. But I seem to remember having seen it. Your village is under some very old big trees, just by the side of the red road—isn't that so?

Amal. Never. But I feel like I've seen it before. Your village is located next to some really old big trees, right by the red road—am I right?

Dairyman. That's right, child.

Dairy farmer. That's right, kid.

Amal. And on the slope of the hill cattle grazing.

Amal. And on the slope of the hill, cattle are grazing.

Dairyman. How wonderful! Aren't there cattle grazing in our village! Indeed, there are!

Dairyman. How amazing! Aren't there cows grazing in our village! Yes, there are!

Amal. And your women with red sarees fill their pitchers from the river and carry them on their heads.

Amal. And the women in red sarees fill their water pitchers from the river and carry them on their heads.

Dairyman. Good, that's right. Women from our dairy village do come and draw their water from the river; but then it isn't everyone who has a red saree to put on. But, my dear child, surely you must have been there for a walk some time.

Dairyman. That's true. Women from our dairy village do come to collect water from the river; but not everyone has a red saree to wear. However, my dear child, you must have taken a walk there at some point.

Amal. Really, Dairyman, never been there at all. But the first day doctor lets me go out, you are going to take me to your village.

Amal. Seriously, Dairyman, I’ve never been there at all. But the first day the doctor lets me go out, you’re going to take me to your village.

Dairyman. I will, my child, with pleasure.

Dairyman. Sure, I’d be happy to, my child.

Amal. And you'll teach me to cry curds and shoulder the yoke like you and walk the long, long road?

Amal. And you’ll show me how to make cheese and carry the burden like you and walk the long, long road?

Dairyman. Dear, dear, did you ever? Why should you sell curds? No, you will read big books and be learned.

Dairyman. Wow, seriously? Why would you sell curds? No, you should just read big books and get smart.

Amal. No, I never want to be learned—I'll be like you and take my curds from the village by the red road near the old banyan tree, and I will hawk it from cottage to cottage. Oh, how do you cry—"Curd, curd, good nice curd!" Teach me the tune, will you?

Amal. No, I never want to be educated—I’ll be like you and get my curds from the village by the red road near the old banyan tree, and I’ll sell it from cottage to cottage. Oh, how do you shout—"Curd, curd, good nice curd!" Teach me the tune, will you?

Dairyman. Dear, dear, teach you the tune; what an idea!

Dairyman. Wow, teaching you the tune? What a thought!

Amal. Please do. I love to hear it. I can't tell you how queer I feel when I hear you cry out from the bend of that road, through the line of those trees! Do you know I feel like that when I hear the shrill cry of kites from almost the end of the sky?

Amal. Please do. I love to hear it. I can't explain how strange I feel when I hear you call out from the curve of that road, among the line of those trees! Do you know I feel the same way when I hear the sharp cry of kites from way up in the sky?

Dairyman. Dear child, will you have some curds? Yes, do.

Dairyman. Hey kid, do you want some cheese curds? Yes, go ahead.

Amal. But I have no money.

Amal. But I'm broke.

Dairyman. No, no, no, don't talk of money! You'll make me so happy if you have a little curds from me.

Dairyman. No, no, no, don’t talk about money! You’ll make me really happy if you take some curds from me.

Amal. Say, have I kept you too long?

Amal. So, have I kept you waiting too long?

Dairyman. Not a bit; it has been no loss to me at all; you have taught me how to be happy selling curds. [Exit]

Dairyman. Not at all; it hasn’t been a loss for me at all; you’ve shown me how to be happy selling cheese. [Exit]

Amal [Intoning] Curds, curds, good nice curds—from the dairy village—from the country of the Panch-mura hills by the Shamli bank. Curds, good curds; in the early morning the women make the cows stand in a row under the trees and milk them, and in the evening they turn the milk into curds. Curds, good curds. Hello, there's the watchman on his rounds. Watchman, I say, come and have a word with me.

Amal [Intoning] Yogurt, yogurt, delicious creamy yogurt—from the dairy village—from the Panch-mura hills near the Shamli riverbank. Yogurt, tasty yogurt; in the early morning, the women line the cows up under the trees to milk them, and in the evening, they turn the milk into yogurt. Yogurt, tasty yogurt. Hey, there's the watchman on his rounds. Watchman, I say, come and chat with me.

Watchman. What's all this row you are making? Aren't you afraid of the likes of me?

Watchman. What’s all this noise you’re making? Aren’t you scared of someone like me?

Amal. No, why should I be?

Amal. No, why would I be?

Watchman. Suppose I march you off then?

Watchman. What if I take you away then?

Amal. Where will you take me to? Is it very far, right beyond the hills?

Amal. Where are you going to take me? Is it really far, just past the hills?

Watchman. Suppose I march you straight to the King?

Watchman. What if I take you directly to the King?

Amal. To the King! Do, will you? But the doctor won't let me go out. No one can ever take me away. I've got to stay here all day long.

Amal. To the King! Will you? But the doctor won't let me go outside. No one can ever take me away. I have to stay here all day long.

Watchman. Doctor won't let you, poor fellow! So I see! Your face is pale and there are dark rings round your eyes. Your veins stick out from your poor thin hands.

Watchman. The doctor won't allow it, poor thing! I can see that! Your face is pale, and there are dark circles under your eyes. Your veins are popping out from your thin, frail hands.

Amal. Won't you sound the gong, Watchman?

Amal. Could you please ring the gong, Watchman?

Watchman. Time has not yet come.

Watchman. The time hasn't come yet.

Amal. How curious! Some say time has not yet come, and some say time has gone by! But surely your time will come the moment you strike the gong!

Amal. How interesting! Some say the time hasn't arrived yet, and others say it's already passed! But your time will definitely come the moment you hit the gong!

Watchman. That's not possible; I strike up the gong only when it is time.

Watchman. That's not possible; I only ring the bell when it's time.

Amal. Yes, I love to hear your gong. When it is midday and our meal is over, Uncle goes off to his work and Auntie falls asleep reading her RÃƒÂƒÃ‚Â¢mayana, and in the courtyard under the shadow of the wall our doggie sleeps with his nose in his curled up tail; then your gong strikes out, "Dong, dong, dong!" Tell me why does your gong sound?

Amal. Yes, I love hearing your gong. When it's noon and we finish our meal, Uncle heads off to work and Auntie dozes off reading her RÃƒÂƒÃ‚Â¢mayana, and in the courtyard, under the shadow of the wall, our little dog sleeps with his nose curled up in his tail; then your gong rings out, "Dong, dong, dong!" Can you tell me why your gong sounds?

Watchman. My gong sounds to tell the people, Time waits for none, but goes on forever.

Watchman. My gong rings out to remind people, Time waits for no one and keeps moving on endlessly.

Amal. Where, to what land?

Amal. Where to, what land?

Watchman. That none knows.

Watchman. No one knows.

Amal. Then I suppose no one has ever been there! Oh, I do wish to fly with the time to that land of which no one knows anything.

Amal. Then I guess no one has ever been there! Oh, I really wish I could travel to that place about which no one knows anything.

Watchman. All of us have to get there one day, my child.

Watchman. We all have to arrive there someday, my child.

Amal. Have I too?

Amal. Have I as well?

Watchman. Yes, you too!

Guard. Yes, you too!

Amal. But doctor won't let me out.

Amal. But the doctor won't let me leave.

Watchman. One day the doctor himself may take you there by the hand.

Watchman. One day the doctor might take you there by the hand.

Amal. He won't; you don't know him. He only keeps me in.

Amal. He won't; you don't know him. He just keeps me around.

Watchman. One greater than he comes and lets us free.

Watchman. Someone greater than him is coming to set us free.

Amal. When will this great doctor come for me? I can't stick in here any more.

Amal. When is this amazing doctor going to come for me? I can't stay here any longer.

Watchman. Shouldn't talk like that, my child.

Watchman. You shouldn't say things like that, my child.

Amal. No. I am here where they have left me—I never move a bit. But when your gong goes off, dong, dong, dong, it goes to my heart. Say, Watchman?

Amal. No. I’m right here where they left me—I don’t move at all. But when your gong goes off, dong, dong, dong, it hits me right in the heart. Hey, Watchman?

Watchman. Yes, my dear.

Security guard. Yes, my dear.

Amal. Say, what's going on there in that big house on the other side, where there is a flag flying high up and the people are always going in and out?

Amal. Hey, what's happening over in that big house across the way, where there's a flag flying high and people are constantly coming and going?

Watchman. Oh, there? That's our new Post Office.

Watchman. Oh, over there? That's our new Post Office.

Amal. Post Office? Whose?

Amal. Post Office? Whose is it?

Watchman. Whose? Why, the King's surely!

Guard. Whose? The King's, of course!

Amal. Do letters come from the King to his office here?

Amal. Do letters arrive from the King at his office here?

Watchman. Of course. One fine day there may be a letter for you in there.

Watchman. Sure. One day, there might be a letter for you in there.

Amal. A letter for me? But I am only a little boy.

Amal. A letter for me? But I’m just a little kid.

Watchman. The King sends tiny notes to little boys.

Watchman. The King sends small notes to young boys.

Amal. Oh, how lovely! When shall I have my letter? How do you guess he'll write to me?

Amal. Oh, how wonderful! When will I get my letter? How do you think he’ll write to me?

Watchman. Otherwise why should he set his Post Office here right in front of your open window, with the golden flag flying?

Watchman. Otherwise, why would he place his Post Office right in front of your open window, with the golden flag waving?

Amal. But who will fetch me my King's letter when it comes?

Amal. But who's going to get my King's letter when it arrives?

Watchman. The King has many postmen. Don't you see them run about with round gilt badges on their chests?

Watchman. The King has a lot of messengers. Can't you see them rushing around with shiny gold badges on their chests?

Amal. Well, where do they go?

Amal. So, where do they go?

Watchman. Oh, from door to door, all through the country.

Watchman. Oh, from house to house, all across the country.

Amal. I'll be the King's postman when I grow up.

Amal. I want to be the King's postman when I grow up.

Watchman. Ha! ha! Postman, indeed! Rain or shine, rich or poor, from house to house delivering letters—that's very great work!

Watchman. Ha! ha! Postman, really! Rain or shine, rich or poor, going from house to house delivering letters—that's some important work!

Amal. That's what I'd like best. What makes you smile so? Oh, yes, your work is great too. When it is silent everywhere in the heat of the noonday, your gong sounds, Dong, dong, dong,— and sometimes when I wake up at night all of a sudden and find our lamp blown out, I can hear through the darkness your gong slowly sounding, Dong, dong, dong!

Amal. That's what I like the most. What makes you smile like that? Oh, yes, your work is awesome too. When everything is quiet in the midday heat, your gong goes, Dong, dong, dong,— and sometimes when I suddenly wake up at night and see that our lamp has gone out, I can hear your gong slowly ringing in the darkness, Dong, dong, dong!

Watchman. There's the village headman! I must be off. If he catches me gossiping with you there'll be a great to do.

Watchman. There's the village leader! I have to go. If he sees me chatting with you, it will cause a big fuss.

Amal. The headman? Whereabouts is he?

Amal. The chief? Where is he?

Watchman. Right down the road there; see that huge palm-leaf umbrella hopping along? That's him!

Watchman. Right down the road there; see that big palm-leaf umbrella moving along? That's him!

Amal. I suppose the King's made him our headman here?

Amal. I guess the King made him our leader here?

Watchman. Made him? Oh, no! A fussy busy-body! He knows so many ways of making himself unpleasant that everybody is afraid of him. It's just a game for the likes of him, making trouble for everybody. I must be off now! Mustn't keep work waiting, you know! I'll drop in again to-morrow morning and tell you all the news of the town. [Exit]

Watchman. Made him? Oh, no! He's such a needy busybody! He has so many ways of being unpleasant that everyone is scared of him. It's all just a game for someone like him, stirring up trouble for everyone. I have to go now! Can't keep work waiting, you know! I'll swing by again tomorrow morning and fill you in on all the news in town. [Exit]

Amal. It would be splendid to have a letter from the King every day. I'll read them at the window. But, oh! I can't read writing. Who'll read them out to me, I wonder! Auntie reads her RÃƒÂƒÃ‚Â¢mayana; she may know the King's writing. If no one will, then I must keep them carefully and read them when I'm grown up. But if the postman can't find me? Headman, Mr. Headman, may I have a word with you?

Amal. It would be amazing to get a letter from the King every day. I’d read them at the window. But, oh! I can’t read handwriting. I wonder who will read them to me! Auntie reads her Ramayana; maybe she can understand the King’s handwriting. If no one can, then I'll have to keep them safe and read them when I’m older. But what if the postman can’t find me? Headman, Mr. Headman, can I talk to you for a minute?

Headman. Who is yelling after me on the highway? Oh, you wretched monkey!

Headman. Who's shouting at me on the highway? Oh, you miserable monkey!

Amal. You're the headman. Everybody minds you.

Amal. You're the leader. Everyone listens to you.

Headman [Looking pleased] Yes, oh yes, they do! They must!

Headman [Looking pleased] Yes, definitely, they do! They have to!

Amal. Do the King's postmen listen to you?

Amal. Do the King's mailmen pay attention to you?

Headman. They've got to. By Jove, I'd like to see—

Headman. They've got to. Honestly, I'd love to see—

Amal. Will you tell the postman it's Amal who sits by the window here?

Amal. Can you let the postman know that it's Amal sitting by the window here?

Headman. What's the good of that?

Leader. What's the point of that?

Amal. In case there's a letter for me.

Amal. Just in case there’s a letter for me.

Headman. A letter for you! Whoever's going to write to you?

Headman. A letter for you! Who would be writing to you?

Amal. If the King does.

Amal. If the King agrees.

Headman. Ha! ha! What an uncommon little fellow you are! Ha! ha! the King indeed, aren't you his bosom friend, eh! You haven't met for a long while and the King is pining, I am sure. Wait till to-morrow and you'll have your letter.

Headman. Ha! Ha! What a rare little guy you are! Ha! Ha! You're really the King, huh? You're his close friend, right? You two haven't seen each other in ages, and I'm sure the King is missing you. Just wait until tomorrow, and you'll get your letter.

Amal. Say, Headman, why do you speak to me in that tone of voice? Are you cross?

Amal. Hey, Headman, why are you talking to me like that? Are you upset?

Headman. Upon my word! Cross, indeed! You write to the King! Madhav is devilish swell nowadays. He'd made a little pile; and so kings and padishahs are everyday talk with his people. Let me find him once and I'll make him dance. Oh, you snipper-snapper! I'll get the King's letter sent to your house—indeed I will!

Headman. I swear! So angry! You’re writing to the King! Madhav is really something these days. He’s made some good money, and now kings and emperors are all anyone talks about with his crowd. Just wait until I find him; I’ll make him pay. Oh, you little brat! I will get the King’s letter sent to your place—count on it!

Amal. No, no, please don't trouble yourself about it.

Amal. No, no, please don’t worry about it.

Headman. And why not, pray! I'll tell the King about you and he won't be very long. One of his footmen will come along presently for news of you. Madhav's impudence staggers me. If the King hears of this, that'll take some of his nonsense out of him. [Exit]

Headman. And why not, right? I'll inform the King about you, and it won't be too long before one of his footmen comes around for updates. Madhav's boldness amazes me. If the King finds out about this, it might knock some sense into him. [Exit]

Amal. Who are you walking there? How your anklets tinkle! Do stop a while, dear, won't you?

Amal. Who's that walking over there? I can hear your anklets jingle! Please stop for a moment, would you?

[A Girl enters]

[A Girl enters]

Girl. I haven't a moment to spare; it is already late!

Girl. I don’t have a moment to waste; it’s already late!

Amal. I see, you don't wish to stop; I don't care to stay on here either.

Amal. I get it, you don’t want to stop; I’m not interested in sticking around here either.

Girl. You make me think of some late star of the morning! Whatever's the matter with you?

Girl. You remind me of a fading morning star! What’s going on with you?

Amal. I don't know; the doctor won't let me out.

Amal. I don’t know; the doctor won't let me leave.

Girl. Ah me! Don't then! Should listen to the doctor. People'll be cross with you if you're naughty. I know, always looking out and watching must make you feel tired. Let me close the window a bit for you.

Girl. Oh no! Please don’t! You should really listen to the doctor. People will be upset with you if you misbehave. I understand, always being observed can be exhausting. Let me close the window a little for you.

Amal. No, don't, only this one's open! All the others are shut. But will you tell me who you are? Don't seem to know you.

Amal. No, don't! This one is the only one that's open! All the others are closed. But can you tell me who you are? I don't think I recognize you.

Girl. I am Sudha.

Girl. I’m Sudha.

Amal. What Sudha?

Amal. What’s up, Sudha?

Sudha. Don't you know? Daughter of the flower-seller here.

Sudha. Don't you know? She's the daughter of the flower seller here.

Amal. What do you do?

Amal. What’s your job?

Sudha. I gather flowers in my basket.

Sudha. I’m picking flowers and putting them in my basket.

Amal. Oh, flower gathering! That is why your feet seem so glad and your anklets jingle so merrily as you walk. Wish I could be out too. Then I would pick some flowers for you from the very topmost branches right out of sight.

Amal. Oh, flower picking! That’s why your feet look so happy and your anklets chime so joyfully as you walk. I wish I could join you. I would pick some flowers for you from the highest branches, out of sight.

Sudha. Would you really? Do you know more about flowers than I?

Sudha. Would you actually? Do you know more about flowers than I do?

Amal. Yes, I do, quite as much. I know all about Champa of the fairy tale and his seven brothers. If only they let me, I'll go right into the dense forest where you can't find your way. And where the honey-sipping hummingbird rocks himself on the end of the thinnest branch, I will flower out as a champa. Would you be my sister Parul?

Amal. Yes, I do, a lot. I know all about Champa from the fairy tale and his seven brothers. If they would let me, I’d go straight into the thick forest where you can easily get lost. And where the honey-drinking hummingbird balances on the tip of the tiniest branch, I would blossom just like a champa. Will you be my sister Parul?

Sudha. You are silly! How can I be sister Parul when I am Sudha and my mother is Sasi, the flower-seller? I have to weave so many garlands a day. It would be jolly if I could lounge here like you!

Sudha. You're being silly! How can I be sister Parul when I'm Sudha and my mom is Sasi, the flower-seller? I have to weave so many garlands every day. It would be great if I could relax here like you!

Amal. What would you do then, all the day long?

Amal. What would you do all day long?

Sudha. I could have great times with my doll Benay the bride, and Meni the pussycat and—but I say it is getting late and I mustn't stop, or I won't find a single flower.

Sudha. I could have amazing times with my doll Benay the bride, and Meni the kitty—and—but I think it’s getting late and I can't stop, or I won’t find a single flower.

Amal. Oh, wait a little longer; I do like it so!

Amal. Oh, just wait a little longer; I really like it!

Sudha. Ah, well—now don't you be naughty. Be good and sit still and on my way back home with the flowers I'll come and talk with you.

Sudha. Oh, come on—don't be mischievous. Be nice and sit still, and on my way back home with the flowers, I'll come and chat with you.

Amal. And you'll let me have a flower then?

Amal. So, you'll let me have a flower then?

Sudha. No, how can I? It has to be paid for.

Sudha. No, how can I? It needs to be paid for.

Amal. I'll pay when I grow up—before I leave to look for work out on the other side of that stream there.

Amal. I'll pay when I'm older—before I head out to look for work on the other side of that stream.

Sudha. Very well, then.

Sudha. Alright, then.

Amal. And you'll come back when you have your flowers?

Amal. So, will you come back once you have your flowers?

Sudha. I will.

Sudha. Sure, I will.

Amal. You will, really?

Amal. You actually will?

Sudha. Yes, I will.

Sudha. Yeah, I will.

Amal. You won't forget me? I am Amal, remember that.

Amal. You won’t forget me, right? I’m Amal, keep that in mind.

Sudha. I won't forget you, you'll see. [Exit]

Sudha. I won't forget you, just wait and see. [Exit]

[A Troop of Boys enter]

[A Troop of Boys enter]

Amal. Say, brothers, where are you all off to? Stop here a little.

Amal. Hey, guys, where are you all headed? Hang out here for a bit.

Boys. We're off to play.

Guys. We're off to play.

Amal. What will you play at, brothers?

Amal. What are you guys up to, brothers?

Boys. We'll play at being ploughmen.

Boys. We'll pretend to be farmers.

First Boy [Showing a stick] This is our ploughshare.

First Boy [Holding a stick] This is our plow.

Second Boy. We two are the pair of oxen.

Second Boy. We're the two strong ones.

Amal. And you're going to play the whole day?

Amal. Are you really going to play all day?

Boys. Yes, all day long.

Boys. Yeah, all day long.

Amal. And you'll come back home in the evening by the road along the river bank?

Amal. So you'll be coming back home in the evening by the riverbank road?

Boys. Yes.

Guys. Yes.

Amal. Do you pass our house on your way home?

Amal. Do you pass by our house on your way home?

Boys. You come out to play with us, yes do.

Boys. Come out and play with us, okay?

Amal. Doctor won't let me out.

Amal. The doctor won’t let me out.

Boys. Doctor! Suppose the likes of you mind the doctor. Let's be off; it is getting late.

Boys. Doctor! I bet someone like you actually pays attention to the doctor. Let's go; it's getting late.

Amal. Don't. Why not play on the road near this window? I could watch you then.

Amal. Don't. Why not play by the road near this window? I could keep an eye on you that way.

Third Boy. What can we play at here?

Third Boy. What can we play here?

Amal. With all these toys of mine lying about. Here you are, have them. I can't play alone. They are getting dirty and are of no use to me.

Amal. With all these toys of mine scattered around. Here, take them. I can’t play by myself. They’re getting dirty and aren’t useful to me.

Boys. How jolly! What fine toys! Look, here's a ship. There's old mother Jatai; say, chaps, ain't he a gorgeous sepoy? And you'll let us have them all? You don't really mind?

Boys. How fun! What great toys! Look, here’s a ship. There’s old mother Jatai; hey guys, isn’t he a fantastic sepoy? And you’re going to let us have them all? You don’t actually mind?

Amal. No, not a bit; have them by all means.

Amal. No, not at all; take them if you want.

Boys. You don't want them back?

Boys. You don't want them here?

Amal. Oh, no, I shan't want them.

Amal. Oh, no, I don’t want them.

Boys. Say, won't you get a scolding for this?

Boys. Hey, aren't you going to get in trouble for this?

Amal. No one will scold me. But will you play with them in front of our door for a while every morning? I'll get you new ones when these are old.

Amal. No one will yell at me. But will you play with them in front of our door for a bit every morning? I'll get you new ones when these wear out.

Boys. Oh, yes, we will. Say, chaps, put these sepoys into a line. We'll play at war; where can we get a musket? Oh, look here, this bit of reed will do nicely. Say, but you're off to sleep already.

Boys. Oh, yes, we will. Hey, guys, line up these soldiers. Let’s play war; where can we grab a musket? Oh, check this out, this piece of reed will work. But wait, you’re already falling asleep.

Amal. I'm afraid I'm sleepy. I don't know, I feel like it at times. I have been sitting a long while and I'm tired; my back aches.

Amal. I'm sorry, I'm really tired. I don’t know, I just feel that way sometimes. I’ve been sitting for a long time and I'm worn out; my back hurts.

Boys It's only early noon now. How is it you're sleepy? Listen! The gong's sounding the first watch.

Boys It's only early afternoon now. How come you're feeling sleepy? Listen! The gong is signaling the first watch.

Amal. Yes, dong, dong, dong, it tolls me to sleep.

Amal. Yes, ding, ding, ding, it rings me to sleep.

Boys We had better go then. We'll come in again to-morrow morning.

Boys We should probably head out now. We'll come back again tomorrow morning.

Amal. I want to ask you something before you go. You are always out—do you know of the King's postmen?

Amal. I want to ask you something before you leave. You’re always out—do you know about the King’s postmen?

Boys Yes, quite well.

Guys Yeah, pretty good.

Amal. Who are they? Tell me their names.

Amal. Who are they? What are their names?

Boys One's Badal, another's Sarat. There's so many of them.

Boys One is Badal, another is Sarat. There are so many of them.

Amal. Do you think they will know me if there's a letter for me?

Amal. Do you think they'll recognize me if there's a letter for me?

Boys Surely, if your name's on the letter they will find you out.

Boys If your name is on the letter, they will definitely track you down.

Amal. When you call in to-morrow morning, will you bring one of them along so that he'll know me?

Amal. When you call tomorrow morning, will you bring one of them with you so that he'll recognize me?

Boys Yes, if you like.

Guys Sure, if you want.

CURTAIN

THE POST OFFICE

ACT II

[Amal in Bed]

Amal. Can't I go near the window to-day, Uncle? Would the doctor mind that too?

Amal. Can’t I go by the window today, Uncle? Would the doctor be okay with that too?

Madhav. Yes, darling, you see you've made yourself worse squatting there day after day.

Madhav. Yes, love, you can see that sitting there day after day has only made things worse for you.

Amal. Oh, no, I don't know if it's made me more ill, but I always feel well when I'm there.

Amal. Oh, no, I can't say if it's made me more sick, but I always feel good when I'm there.

Madhav. No, you don't; you squat there and make friends with the whole lot of people round here, old and young, as if they are holding a fair right under my eaves—flesh and blood won't stand that strain. Just see—your face is quite pale.

Madhav. No, you don’t; you just sit there and socialize with everyone around here, both old and young, like they're having a party right under my roof—no one can handle that pressure. Just look at you—your face is really pale.

Amal. Uncle, I fear my fakir'll pass and not see me by the window.

Amal. Uncle, I'm worried my fakir will die without seeing me by the window.

Madhav. Your fakir, whoever's that?

Madhav. Your guru, who’s that?

Amal. He comes and chats to me of the many lands where he's been. I love to hear him.

Amal. He comes and talks to me about all the places he's visited. I love listening to him.

Madhav. How's that? I don't know of any fakirs.

Madhav. How's that? I don't know any fakirs.

Amal. This is about the time he comes in. I beg of you, by your dear feet, ask him in for a moment to talk to me here.

Amal. This is when he arrives. Please, for the love of your dear feet, ask him to come in for a moment to talk to me here.

[Gaffer Enters in a Fakir's Guise]

[Gaffer Walks In Disguised as a Fakir]

Amal. There you are. Come here, Fakir, by my bedside.

Amal. There you are. Come over here, Fakir, by my bedside.

Madhav. Upon my word, but this is—

Madhav. I swear, but this is—

Gaffer [Winking hard] I am the fakir.

Gaffer [Winking hard] I am the magician.

Madhav. It beats my reckoning what you're not.

Madhav. I can't figure out what you're not.

Amal. Where have you been this time, Fakir?

Fakir To the Isle of Parrots. I am just back.

Fakir To the Isle of Parrots. I just got back.

Madhav. The Parrots' Isle!

Madhav. Parrots' Isle!

Fakir. Is it so very astonishing? Am I like you, man? A journey doesn't cost a thing. I tramp just where I like.

Fakir. Is it really that surprising? Am I like you, dude? A journey doesn’t cost anything. I go wherever I want.

Amal [Clapping] How jolly for you! Remember your promise to take me with you as your follower when I'm well.

Amal [Clapping] How great for you! Don't forget your promise to take me with you as your follower when I'm better.

Fakir. Of course, and I'll teach you such secrets too of travelling that nothing in sea or forest or mountain can bar your way.

Fakir. Of course, and I'll teach you travel secrets that nothing in the sea, forest, or mountains can block your path.

Madhav. What's all this rigmarole?

Madhav. What's all this nonsense?

Gaffer. Amal, my dear, I bow to nothing in sea or mountain; but if the doctor joins in with this uncle of yours, then I with all my magic must own myself beaten.

Gaffer. Amal, my dear, I don't back down to anything in the sea or the mountains; but if the doctor teams up with this uncle of yours, then with all my magic, I have to admit I've been defeated.

Amal. No. Uncle shan't tell the doctor. And I promise to lie quiet; but the day I am well, off I go with the Fakir and nothing in sea or mountain or torrent shall stand in my way.

Amal. No. Uncle won't tell the doctor. And I promise to stay quiet; but the day I’m better, I’m off with the Fakir and nothing in the sea, mountains, or rivers will stop me.

Madhav. Fie, dear child, don't keep on harping upon going! It makes me so sad to hear you talk so.

Madhav. Come on, dear child, stop going on about leaving! It really makes me sad to hear you say that.

Amal. Tell me, Fakir, what the Parrots' Isle is like.

Amal. Tell me, Fakir, what is Parrots' Isle like?

Gaffer. It's a land of wonders; it's a haunt of birds. There's no man; and they neither speak nor walk, they simply sing and they fly.

Gaffer. It's a land of wonders; it's a place for birds. There's no one here; they don't speak or walk, they just sing and fly.

Amal. How glorious! And it's by some sea?

Amal. How amazing! And it's by a sea?

Gaffer. Of course. It's on the sea.

Gaffer. Of course. It's by the sea.

Amal. And green hills are there?

Amal. Are there green hills?

Gaffer. Indeed, they live among the green hills; and in the time of the sunset when there is a red glow on the hillside, all the birds with their green wings flock back to their nests.

Gaffer. Yes, they live among the green hills; and at sunset, when there’s a red glow on the hillside, all the birds with their green wings return to their nests.

Amal. And there are waterfalls!

Gaffer. Dear me, of course; you don't have a hill without its waterfalls. Oh, it's like molten diamonds; and, my dear, what dances they have! Don't they make the pebbles sing as they rush over them to the sea. No devil of a doctor can stop them for a moment. The birds looked upon me as nothing but a man, quite a trifling creature without wings—and they would have nothing to do with me. Were it not so I would build a small cabin for myself among their crowd of nests and pass my days counting the sea waves.

Gaffer. Oh my, of course; you can't have a hill without its waterfalls. It's like liquid diamonds, and, dear, the dances they perform! Don’t they make the pebbles sing as they rush over them to the sea? No doctor on earth can stop them for even a second. The birds saw me as nothing more than a man, just a silly creature without wings—and they wanted nothing to do with me. If it were different, I would build a small cabin for myself among their nests and spend my days counting the waves of the sea.

Amal. How I wish I were a bird! Then—

Gaffer. But that would have been a bit of a job; I hear you've fixed up with the dairyman to be a hawker of curds when you grow up; I'm afraid such business won't flourish among birds; you might land yourself into serious loss.

Gaffer. But that would have been quite a task; I heard you've made arrangements with the dairyman to be a seller of curds when you grow up; I'm afraid that kind of business won't thrive with the birds; you could end up facing some serious losses.

Madhav. Really this is too much. Between you two I shall turn crazy. Now, I'm off.

Madhav. This is really too much. You two are driving me crazy. I'm out of here.

Amal. Has the dairyman been, Uncle?

Amal. Has the milkman come, Uncle?

Madhav. And why shouldn't he? He won't bother his head running errands for your pet fakir, in and out among the nests in his Parrots' Isle. But he has left a jar of curd for you saying that he is rather busy with his niece's wedding in the village, and he has got to order a band at Kamlipara.

Madhav. And why wouldn't he? He won't waste his time running errands for your pet guru, moving in and out among the nests in his Parrots' Isle. But he did leave a jar of yogurt for you, saying he's really busy with his niece's wedding in the village, and he needs to book a band in Kamlipara.

Amal. But he is going to marry me to his little niece.

Amal. But he's going to marry me off to his little niece.

Gaffer. Dear me, we are in a fix now.

Gaffer. Wow, we’re really in a jam now.

Amal. He said she would find me a lovely little bride with a pair of pearl drops in her ears and dressed in a lovely red sÃƒÂƒÃ‚Â¢ree; and in the morning she would milk with her own hands the black cow and feed me with warm milk with foam on it from a brand new earthen cruse; and in the evenings she would carry the lamp round the cow-house, and then come and sit by me to tell me tales of Champa and his six brothers.

Amal. He said she would find me a pretty bride with pearl earrings and dressed in a beautiful red saree; in the morning, she would milk the black cow herself and give me warm milk with foam from a brand-new clay pot; in the evenings, she would walk around the cow shed with a lamp, then come and sit by me to tell me stories about Champa and his six brothers.

Gaffer. How delicious! The prospect tempts even me, a hermit! But never mind, dear, about this wedding. Let it be. I tell you when you wed there'll be no lack of nieces in his household.

Gaffer. How tasty! The idea is even tempting for me, a hermit! But forget about this wedding for now. Let it happen. I’m telling you, when you get married, there will be plenty of nieces in his home.

Madhav. Shut up! This is more than I can stand. [Exit]

Madhav. Enough! I can't take this anymore. [Exit]

Amal. Fakir, now that Uncle's off, just tell me, has the King sent me a letter to the Post Office?

Amal. Fakir, now that Uncle is gone, can you just tell me if the King has sent me a letter to the Post Office?

Gaffer. I gather that his letter has already started; but it's still on the way.

Gaffer. I assume that his letter is already on its way; it's just not here yet.

Amal. On the way? Where is it? Is it on that road winding through the trees which you can follow to the end of the forest when the sky is quite clear after rain?

Amal. On your way? Where is it? Is it along that winding road through the trees that you can take all the way to the end of the forest when the sky is clear after the rain?

Gaffer. That's so. You know all about it already.

Gaffer. That's true. You already know everything about it.

Amal. I do, everything.

Amal. I do everything.

Gaffer. So I see, but how?

Gaffer. Got it, but how?

Amal. I can't say; but it's quite clear to me. I fancy I've seen it often in days long gone by. How long ago I can't tell. Do you know when? I can see it all: there, the King's postman coming down the hillside alone, a lantern in his left hand and on his back a bag of letters climbing down for ever so long, for days and nights, and where at the foot of the mountain the waterfall becomes a stream he takes to the footpath on the bank and walks on through the rye; then comes the sugarcane field and he disappears into the narrow lane cutting through the tall stems of sugarcanes; then he reaches the open meadow where the cricket chirps and where there is not a single man to be seen, only the snipe wagging their tails and poking at the mud with their bills. I can feel him coming nearer and nearer and my heart becomes glad.

Amal. I can’t say for sure, but it’s pretty clear to me. I think I’ve seen it many times in the distant past. I can’t tell you how long ago. Do you know when? I can picture it all: there's the King’s postman coming down the hillside by himself, a lantern in his left hand and a bag of letters on his back. He’s been climbing down for what feels like forever, for days and nights, and where the waterfall turns into a stream at the base of the mountain, he steps onto the footpath by the bank and walks through the rye. Then he passes the sugarcane field and disappears into the narrow lane cutting through the tall sugarcane stalks; next, he reaches the open meadow where the crickets chirp, and not a single person can be seen, only the snipe wagging their tails and probing the mud with their beaks. I can feel him getting closer and closer, and my heart fills with joy.

Gaffer. My eyes aren't young; but you make me see all the same.

Gaffer. My eyes aren't young, but you make me see just the same.

Amal. Say, Fakir, do you know the King who has this Post Office?

Amal. Hey, Fakir, do you know the King who owns this Post Office?

Gaffer. I do; I go to him for my alms every day.

Gaffer. I do; I go to him for my donations every day.

Amal. Good! When I get well, I must have my alms too from him, mayn't I?

Amal. Great! Once I recover, I should be able to get my donations from him too, right?

Gaffer. You won't need to ask, my dear, he'll give it to you of his own accord.

Gaffer. You won't need to ask, my dear, he'll give it to you willingly.

Amal. No, I would go to his gate and cry, "Victory to thee, O King!" and dancing to the tabor's sound, ask for alms. Won't it be nice?

Amal. No, I would go to his gate and shout, "Hail to you, O King!" and dance to the sound of the drum, asking for donations. Wouldn't that be great?

Gaffer. It would be splendid, and if you're with me, I shall have my full share. But what'll you ask?

Gaffer. That would be great, and if you're on board, I'll get my fair share. But what will you want in return?

Amal. I shall say, "Make me your postman, that I may go about lantern in hand, delivering your letters from door to door. Don't let me stay at home all day!"

Amal. I will say, "Make me your mailman, so I can walk around with a lantern, delivering your letters from door to door. Don’t leave me stuck at home all day!"

Gaffer. What is there to be sad for, my child, even were you to stay at home?

Gaffer. Why be sad, my child, even if you stayed home?

Amal. It isn't sad. When they shut me in here first I felt the day was so long. Since the King's Post Office I like it more and more being indoors, and as I think I shall get a letter one day, I feel quite happy and then I don't mind being quiet and alone. I wonder if I shall make out what'll be in the King's letter?

Amal. It’s not sad. When I was first locked up in here, the days felt so long. Since the King's Post Office, I enjoy being inside more and more, and as I hold onto the hope of getting a letter one day, I feel pretty happy and don’t mind being quiet and alone. I wonder if I’ll figure out what’s in the King’s letter?

Gaffer. Even if you didn't wouldn't it be enough if it just bore your name?

Gaffer. Even if you didn’t, wouldn’t it be enough if it just had your name on it?

[Madhav enters]

[Madhav enters]

Madhav. Have you any idea of the trouble you've got me into, between you two?

Madhav. Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused me with the two of you?

Gaffer. What's the matter?

Boss. What's wrong?

Madhav. I hear you've let it get rumored about that the King has planted his office here to send messages to both of you.

Madhav. I heard that you've allowed people to believe the King has set up his office here to send messages to both of you.

Gaffer. Well, what about it?

Boss. Well, what about it?

Madhav. Our headman Panchanan has had it told to the King anonymously.

Madhav. Our leader Panchanan informed the King about it without revealing who he is.

Gaffer. Aren't we aware that everything reaches the King's ears?

Gaffer. Don’t we know that everything gets back to the King?

Madhav. Then why don't you look out? Why take the King's name in vain? You'll bring me to ruin if you do.

Madhav. Then why don't you just look outside? Why disrespect the King's name? You’ll ruin me if you keep this up.

Amal. Say, Fakir, will the King be cross?

Amal. Hey, Fakir, is the King going to be angry?

Gaffer. Cross, nonsense! And with a child like you and a fakir such as I am. Let's see if the King be angry, and then won't I give him a piece of my mind.

Gaffer. Seriously? With a kid like you and a fraud like me. Let's see if the King is mad, and then I'll really tell him what I think.

Amal. Say, Fakir, I've been feeling a sort of darkness coming over my eyes since the morning. Everything seems like a dream. I long to be quiet. I don't feel like talking at all. Won't the King's letter come? Suppose this room melts away all on a sudden, suppose—

Amal. Hey, Fakir, I've felt this heaviness in my eyes since this morning. Everything feels dreamlike. I just want to be still. I really don't feel like talking. Isn’t the King's letter going to arrive? What if this room suddenly disappears, what if—

Gaffer [Fanning Amal] The letter's sure to come to-day, my boy.

Gaffer [Fanning Amal] The letter is definitely going to arrive today, my boy.

[Doctor enters]

[Doctor walks in]

Doctor And how do you feel to-day?

Doctor So, how are you feeling today?

Amal. Feel awfully well to-day, Doctor. All pain seems to have left me.

Amal. I'm feeling really good today, Doctor. All my pain seems to have disappeared.

Doctor [Aside to Madhav] Don't quite like the look of that smile. Bad sign that, his feeling well! Chakradhan has observed—

Doctor [Aside to Madhav] I don't really trust that smile. It's a bad sign that he's feeling good! Chakradhan has noticed—

Madhav. For goodness sake, Doctor, leave Chakradhan alone. Tell me what's going to happen?

Madhav. For heaven's sake, Doctor, just leave Chakradhan alone. What’s going to happen?

Doctor. Can't hold him in much longer, I fear! I warned you before—This looks like a fresh exposure.

Doctor. I can't keep him from slipping away much longer, I'm afraid! I warned you earlier—This seems like a new exposure.

Madhav. No, I've used the utmost care, never let him out of doors; and the windows have been shut almost all the time.

Madhav. No, I've been really careful, never let him outside; and the windows have been closed almost the whole time.

Doctor. There's a peculiar quality in the air to-day. As I came in I found a fearful draught through your front door. That's most hurtful. Better lock it at once. Would it matter if this kept your visitors off for two or three days? If someone happens to call unexpectedly—there's the back door. You had better shut this window as well, it's letting in the sunset rays only to keep the patient awake.

Doctor. There’s a strange feeling in the air today. When I came in, I noticed a strong draft coming through your front door. That’s really uncomfortable. You should definitely lock it. Would it be a big deal if this keeps your visitors away for a couple of days? If someone drops by unexpectedly—there’s always the back door. You should also close this window; it’s just letting in the sunset light, which will keep the patient awake.

Madhav. Amal has shut his eyes. I expect he is sleeping. His face tells me—Oh, Doctor, I bring in a child who is a stranger and love him as my own, and now I suppose I must lose him!

Madhav. Amal has his eyes closed. I assume he’s sleeping. His expression tells me—Oh, Doctor, I bring in a child who is a stranger and care for him like he’s my own, and now it seems I have to let him go!

Doctor. What's that? There's your headman sailing in!—What a bother! I must be going, brother. You had better stir about and see to the doors being properly fastened. I will send on a strong dose directly I get home. Try it on him—it may save him at last, if he can be saved at all. [Exeunt Madhav and Doctor.]

Doctor. What's that? There's your leader coming in!—What a hassle! I need to get going, brother. You should get moving and make sure the doors are securely locked. I’ll send over a strong dose as soon as I get home. Give it a try on him—it might save him in the end, if he can be saved at all. [Exeunt Madhav and Doctor.]

[The Headman enters]

[The Headman walks in]

Headman. Hello, urchin!

Headman. Hey, kid!

Gaffer [Rising hastily] 'Sh, be quiet.

Gaffer [Getting up quickly] 'Sh, be quiet.

Amal. No, Fakir, did you think I was asleep? I wasn't. I can hear everything; yes, and voices far away. I feel that mother and father are sitting by my pillow and speaking to me.

Amal. No, Fakir, did you really think I was asleep? I wasn’t. I can hear everything; yes, even voices in the distance. I feel like Mom and Dad are sitting by my pillow and talking to me.

[Madhav enters]

[Madhav arrives]

Headman. I say, Madhav, I hear you hobnob with bigwigs nowadays.

Headman. I hear, Madhav, that you’re hanging out with influential people these days.

Madhav. Spare me your jests, Headman, we are but common people.

Madhav. Cut the jokes, Headman, we’re just regular folks.

Headman. But your child here is expecting a letter from the King.

Headman. But your child is waiting for a letter from the King.

Madhav. Don't you take any notice of him, a mere foolish boy!

Madhav. Don't pay any attention to him, just a silly kid!

Headman. Indeed, why not! It'll beat the King hard to find a better family! Don't you see why the King plants his new Post Office right before your win- dow? Why there's a letter for you from the King, urchin.

Headman. Of course! It'll be tough for the King to find a better family! Can’t you see why the King is putting his new Post Office right outside your window? There’s a letter for you from the King, kid.

Amal [Starting up] Indeed, really!

Amal [Starting up] For sure!

Headman. How can it be false? You're the King's chum. Here's your letter [showing a blank slip of paper]. Ha, ha, ha! This is the letter.

Headman. How can it be untrue? You're the King's buddy. Here's your letter [showing a blank slip of paper]. Ha, ha, ha! This is the letter.

Amal. Please don't mock me. Say, Fakir, is it so?

Amal. Please don't make fun of me. Tell me, Fakir, is that true?

Gaffer. Yes, my dear. I as Fakir tell you it is his letter.

Gaffer. Yes, my dear. As the Fakir, I tell you it's his letter.

Amal. How is it I can't see? It all looks so blank to me. What is there in the letter, Mr. Headman?

Amal. Why can't I see? Everything looks so blank to me. What's in the letter, Mr. Headman?

Headman. The King says, "I am calling on you shortly; you had better arrange puffed rice offerings for me.—Palace fare is quite tasteless to me now." Ha! ha! ha!

Headman. The King says, "I’ll be calling on you soon; you should prepare some puffed rice offerings for me.—The palace food just doesn’t taste good to me anymore." Ha! ha! ha!

Madhav [With folded palms] I beseech you, headman, don't you joke about these things—

Madhav [With hands in prayer position] I'm begging you, chief, don't make light of these things—

Gaffer. Cutting jokes indeed, dare he!

Gaffer. Telling jokes, is he?

Madhav. Are you out of your mind too, Gaffer?

Madhav. Are you losing your mind too, Gaffer?

Gaffer. Out of my mind, well then I am; I can read plainly that the King writes he will come himself to see Amal, with the state physician.

Gaffer. I'm losing my mind, that's for sure; I can clearly see that the King says he will come himself to visit Amal, along with the royal doctor.

Amal. Fakir, Fakir, 'sh, his trumpet! Can't you hear?

Amal. Fakir, Fakir, hush, his trumpet! Can't you hear?

Headman. Ha! ha! ha! I fear he won't until he's a bit more off his head.

Headman. Ha! ha! ha! I doubt he will until he's a little more out of it.

Amal. Mr. Headman, I thought you were cross with me and didn't love me. I never could think you would fetch me the King's letter. Let me wipe the dust off your feet.

Amal. Mr. Headman, I thought you were mad at me and didn’t care about me. I never imagined you would bring me the King’s letter. Let me clean the dust off your feet.

Headman. This little child does have an instinct of reverence. Though a little silly, he has a good heart.

Headman. This little child really does have a sense of respect. Even though he’s a bit foolish, he has a kind heart.

Amal. It's hard on the fourth watch now, I suppose—Hark the gong, "Dong, dong, ding," "Dong, dong, ding." Is the evening star up? How is it I can't see—

Amal. It's tough on the fourth watch now, I guess—Listen to the gong, "Dong, dong, ding," "Dong, dong, ding." Is the evening star out? Why can't I see—

Gaffer. Oh, the windows are all shut, I'll open them.

Gaffer. Oh, all the windows are closed. I'll open them.

[A knocking outside]

A knock at the door

Madhav. What's that?—Who is it—what a bother!

Madhav. What's going on?—Who is it—this is so annoying!

Voice [From outside] Open the door.

Open the door.

Madhav Say, Headman—Hope they're not robbers.

Madhav Say, Headman—Hope they’re not thieves.

Headman Who's there?—It's Panchanan, the headman, calls—Aren't you afraid of the like of me? Fancy! The noise has ceased! Panchanan's voice carries far.—Yes, show me the biggest robbers!

Headman Who’s there?—It’s Panchanan, the headman, calling—Aren’t you scared of someone like me? Imagine that! The noise has stopped! Panchanan's voice travels far.—Yes, show me the biggest thieves!

Madhav [Peering out of the window] I should think the noise has ceased. They've smashed the door.

Madhav [Looking out the window] I guess the noise has stopped. They broke down the door.

[The King's Herald enters]

[The King’s Herald arrives]

Herald. Our Sovereign King comes to-night!

Herald. Our King is coming tonight!

Headman. My God!

Leader. Oh my God!

Amal. At what hour of the night, Herald?

Amal. What time is it at night, Herald?

Herald. On the second watch.

Herald. During the second shift.

Amal. When from the city gates my friend the watchman will strike his gong, "ding dong ding, ding dong ding"—then?

Amal. When my friend the watchman at the city gates beats his gong, "ding dong ding, ding dong ding"—then?

Herald. Yes, then. The King sends his greatest physician to attend on his young friend.

Herald. Yes, then. The King is sending his best doctor to take care of his young friend.

[State Physician enters]

[State Doctor enters]

State Physician. What's this? How close it is here! Open wide all the doors and windows. [Feeling Amal's body] How do you feel, my child?

State Physician. What's going on? It's so stuffy in here! Open all the doors and windows wide. [Checking Amal's body] How are you feeling, my child?

Amal. I feel very well, Doctor, very well. All pain is gone. How fresh and open! I can see all the stars now twinkling from the other side of the dark.

Amal. I feel really good, Doctor, really good. All the pain is gone. How fresh and open! I can see all the stars twinkling now from the other side of the dark.

Physician. Will you feel well enough to leave your bed with the King when he comes in the middle watches of the night?

Physician. Are you going to feel well enough to get out of bed with the King when he comes in the middle of the night?

Amal. Of course, I'm dying to be about for ever so long. I'll ask the King to find me the polar star.—I must have seen it often, but I don't know exactly which it is.

Amal. Of course, I can't wait to be around for a long time. I'll ask the King to help me find the North Star. I've probably seen it many times, but I don't really know which one it is.

Physician. He will tell you everything. [To Madhav] Will you go about and arrange flowers through the room for the King's visit? [Indicating the Headman] We can't have that person in here.

Physician. He'll fill you in on everything. [To Madhav] Can you go around and set up flowers in the room for the King's visit? [Indicating the Headman] We can’t have that person in here.

Amal. No, let him be, Doctor. He is a friend. It was he who brought me the King's letter.

Amal. No, let him go, Doctor. He’s a friend. He’s the one who brought me the King's letter.

Physician. Very well, my child. He may remain if he is a friend of yours.

Physician. Alright, my child. He can stay if he's your friend.

Madhav [Whispering into Amal's ear] My child, the King loves you. He is coming himself. Beg for a gift from him. You know our humble circumstances.

Madhav [Whispering into Amal's ear] My dear, the King cares for you. He’s coming himself. Ask him for a gift. You know how modest our situation is.

Amal. Don't you worry, Uncle.—I've made up my mind about it.

Amal. Don't worry, Uncle.—I've decided on it.

Madhav. What is it, my child?

Madhav. What’s wrong, my child?

Amal. I shall ask him to make me one of his postmen that I may wander far and wide, delivering his message from door to door.

Amal. I'll ask him to make me one of his postmen so I can roam around, delivering his message from door to door.

Madhav [Slapping his forehead] Alas, is that all?

Madhav [Slapping his forehead] Oh no, is that it?

Amal. What'll be our offerings to the King, Uncle, when he comes?

Amal. What should we give to the King, Uncle, when he arrives?

Herald. He has commanded puffed rice.

Herald. He has ordered puffed rice.

Amal. Puffed rice! Say, Headman, you're right. You said so. You knew all we didn't.

Amal. Puffed rice! You were right, Headman. You said it, and you knew everything we didn't.

Headman. If you send word to my house then I could manage for the King's advent really nice—

Headman. If you let me know at my house, I can prepare really well for the King's arrival—

Physician. No need at all. Now be quiet all of you. Sleep is coming over him. I'll sit by his pillow; he's dropping into slumber. Blow out the oil-lamp. Only let the star-light stream in. Hush, he slumbers.

Doctor. No need at all. Now, everyone be quiet. He's starting to fall asleep. I'll sit by his pillow; he's drifting off. Blow out the oil lamp. Just let the starlight come in. Hush, he's asleep.

Madhav [Addressing Gaffer] What are you standing there for like a statue, folding your palms.—I am nervous.—Say, are they good omens? Why are they darkening the room? How will star-light help?

Madhav [Talking to Gaffer] Why are you just standing there like a statue, arms folded?—I’m feeling nervous.—So, are those good signs? Why is the room getting darker? How is star-light supposed to help?

Gaffer. Silence, unbeliever.

Boss. Silence, nonbeliever.

[Sudha enters]

[Sudha walks in]

Sudha. Amal!

Physician. He's asleep.

Doctor. He's asleep.

Sudha. I have some flowers for him. Mayn't I give them into his own hand?

Sudha. I have some flowers for him. Can I give them to him directly?

Physician. Yes, you may.

Doctor. Yes, you can.

Sudha. When will he be awake?

Sudha. When will he wake up?

Physician. Directly the King comes and calls him.

Doctor. The King comes right in and calls for him.

Sudha. Will you whisper a word for me in his ear?

Sudha. Can you whisper a word for me in his ear?

Physician. What shall I say?

Doctor. What should I say?

Sudha. Tell him Sudha has not forgotten him.

Sudha. Tell him Sudha still remembers him.

CURTAIN

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