SCENE 10 — SWAYAMPRABHA’S LAST EVENING WITH BODHISATWA
CHARACTERS:
- SWAYAMPRABHA
- BODHISATWA
SETTING
Late evening. Same hotel room. The city hum is distant. LIGHTING: warm, low—more forgiving than the hotel’s harsh light.
SFX: occasional elevator ding / distant traffic.
(Lights up. BODHISATWA sits, calm, with an exhibition brochure. SWYAMPRABHA enters—slightly breathless, as if she walked fast to get here. Bell/knock. BODHISATWA opens the door. She enters. He closes it.)
SWYAMPRABHA (trying for casual, failing)
You’re leaving tomorrow.
BODHISATWA
Yes.
BODHISATWA
Did you like the exhibition?
SWYAMPRABHA (honest)
I didn’t know art can… hold a whole life like that.
I felt proud.
As if I— (catches herself)
As if I knew you before everyone.
BODHISATWA
Indeed. You did.
SWAYAMPRABHA
Everyone was congratulating you.
Taking photos.
Asking for interviews.
And I was standing there thinking—
this man once rode a bicycle, and I used to watch his shadow on the road.
BODHISATWA (gestures to the chair. They sit.)
You look… different tonight.
SWAYAMPRABHA
Because I’m not pretending.
SWYAMPRABHA (holds his gaze. Her voice drops.)
I told myself I would be “mature.”
…and “good.”
…and—
BODHISATWA
And?
SWAYAMPRABHA
And now you’re leaving.
BODHISATWA
SWAYAMPRABHA—
SWAYAMPRABHA
Do you know what it does to me when you are calm?
SWAYAMPRABHA (speaks faster—like she has to empty herself before she loses nerve.)
In my house, even my tiredness belongs to someone.
That day in the gallery, for two minutes—
I felt… seen.
SWYAMPRABHA (swallows. Eyes shining. contd.)
And tomorrow you will be gone.
Back to your life.
And I will return to mine with this… unfinished fire.
BODHISATWA (quiet)
It doesn’t have to be unfinished.
SWAYAMPRABHA
Then finish it.
(He doesn’t move.)
SWAYAMPRABHA
Just… one honest thing.
No more “maybe.”
No more “then.”
Just… now.
(He exhales—like he’s been holding his breath for a week. He stands, comes around the table, stops at a respectful distance. SWYAMPRABHA steps the final inch herself. Consent. He cups her face lightly—careful—and kisses her. Not hurried. Not stolen. Not guilty. Fully present.)
(SWYAMPRABHA closes her eyes. Shoulders drop—as if a long-held weight finally found a place to rest. She responds fully—without fear, without calculation.)
(They separate slowly. SWYAMPRABHA stays still, eyes closed one beat longer—memorizing warmth.)
SWYAMPRABHA (whisper, surprised)
Oh.
BODHISATWA
SWAYAM…
SWYAMPRABHA (breathless smile)
Don’t talk.
(She laughs softly at herself. Then tiny, bright tears.)
BODHISATWA
Are you—
SWAYAMPRABHA
I’m not crying—
It’s just…
SWYAMPRABHA (gentle, firm)
Just let me have this.
(He nods, steps back—gives her space to hold it.)
SWAYAMPRABHA
Tomorrow you leave.
BODHISATWA
Yes.
SWAYAMPRABHA
Tonight…
I will go home and sleep like a person.
Not like a machine.
SWAYAMPRABHA (picks up her handbag. Her face glows—calm, satisfied, quietly happy.)
Thank you.
BODHISATWA
For what?
SWAYAMPRABHA
For being brave… for one minute.
BODHISATWA (eyes shine. He doesn’t reach again—lets the moment stay pure.)
Go carefully.
SWAYAMPRABHA
I will.
SWAYAMPRABHA (starts to leave, turns back once—just a look. Grateful.)
Good night, BODHISATWA.
BODHISATWA
Good night.
(SWYAMPRABHA exits. Light holds on BODHISATWA for a moment—alone, touched and restrained at once.)
(Lights fade.)