SCENE 2A (OPTIONAL) — MIDDAY: THE CALL I DON’T MAKE
(A phone is visible. SUBHAS looks at it too long. MANTU watches from a distance.)
SUBHAS (to audience):
There is a phone in this house. A small thing. Plastic. Cold.
It can carry a voice across a thousand miles.
It can summon a child to a father,
and yet… it sits there like a judge.
(SUBHAS reaches for it. Stops. Reaches again. Stops.)
Because if I call… and they do not pick up—
my loneliness becomes official.
Stamped. Signed. Confirmed.
MANTU:
Call them, Borda.
SUBHAS:
Who? My son? He’ll answer breathless, as if I interrupted a war.
My daughter will whisper because her children are sleeping — she’ll talk to me like I’m a glass.
MANTU:
Still… call.
SUBHAS (sharp, then softer):
Why should I announce myself?
I did my duty. I raised them. I fed them. I carried their fevers.
Now I must also… advertise my existence?
(SUBHAS sets the phone down like it burns.)
No. Tonight is for friends.
Friends come by choice.
MANTU (simple, true):
Sometimes choice needs a door, Borda.
SUBHAS (to audience):
He speaks like he is older than me. But perhaps he is.
(Lights shift.)