SCENE 7 — SOCIAL CONVERSATION AT THE TEA STALL
CHARACTERS
- HARIPADA — tea-stall owner (present, minimal lines)
- BABU-DA — oldest, traditional values
- PODDAR — practical, anxious today; lost his phone
- BAPPA — Gen-Z, quick, opinionated but not rude
- SURJYA — Gen-Z, calmer, analytical
SETTING
Neighborhood tea stall. Late afternoon.
SFX: street traffic, kettle hiss, cup clinks, cycle bell.
(LIGHTS UP. HARIPADA pours tea. BAPPA and SURJYA sit checking their phones.)
BABU-DA (arrives and orders tea)
HARIPADA – one tea.
HARIPADA
Babu-da—same—No sugar?
BABU-DA
Yes. And one biscuit.
HARIPADA
I made fresh Ghughni. Want to try?
BABU-DA
Later.
BABU-DA (pulls the newspaper, looks at the headlines)
Shah Rukh Khan is brand ambassador of Pepsi and now of Thumps Up.
But he doesn’t drink either. Too much sugar.
BAPPA
Brand doesn’t need his throat. Brand needs his face.
BABU-DA
And he makes money for this nonsense.
SURJYA (mild)
Not nonsense. Business.
BABU-DA (points at paper)
Do you know how much tax he pays?
HARIPADA (without looking up)
Tax? Rich people also pay?
BABU-DA
Paper says—crores and crores. Ninety-two crores.
BAPPA
At least he’s contributing.
SURJYA
Media likes it because it sounds like proof of morality.
“See? Rich man paid. Rich man good.”
HARIPADA (quiet truth, not a joke)
If rich man pays tax, things should be cheaper.
Tea leaf price increased again.
PODDAR (arrives, orders tea, looks around here and there, mostly under the table and bench)
One tea. Strong.
Haripada—did I leave my phone last night?
HARIPADA
No, I didn’t find any phone.
PODDAR (exhales—half angry, half helpless)
Gone.
Everything is gone.
BABU-DA
What “everything”? It’s a phone.
PODDAR
I came here thinking maybe I dropped it.
Now I have to buy a new one.
BABU-DA
Buy a simple phone. Call only. Finished.
PODDAR
Simple phone?
My office won’t even allow me to log in.
BABU-DA
What kind of office is this?
PODDAR
To log in to my office computer I need OTP.
HARIPADA (slips two cups of tea)
You ask a person – Oh, Dada? What’s the time now?
He will send you an OTP.
After you tell him back the OTP – then he will tell you the time.
SURJYA
Yes, that’s how it goes.
PODDAR
Don’t joke! My whole life is inside that phone.
Bank app, email, office, wife—
BAPPA (deadpan)
Wife also inside phone?
PODDAR
Not wife! But… her messages.
SURJYA
Bappa, be careful before you marry.
Wife = notification!
PODDAR
Without it—
I can’t call, can’t pay, can’t find, can’t track—
BAPPA
Without your wife!
SURJYA (gentler)
Uncle, why are you so panicked?
Phone is a thing.
PODDAR
Phone is not a thing.
Without phone, I feel… light.
Not peaceful—light like… missing.
BABU-DA
That’s another disease.
HARIPADA
Poddar-da, how will you buy for the new phone?
To pay for the new phone you need a phone and OTP.
BABU-DA
I am happy with my button phone.
And I keep cash in my pocket.
Phone is destroying society.
SURJYA
Actually, society is running on low battery.
BAPPA
Uncle, buy a phone with good camera.
PODDAR
Why?
BAPPA
So next time you lose it, you can take picture of where you kept it.
BABU-DA
This generation… no respect!
BABU-DA
Poddar do you know – why suddenly cities changed names?
Burdwan—Bardhaman. Trivandrum— Tiru Anando Purom.
BAPPA
It is – Thiru-va-nan-tha-pu-ram.
HARIPADA
British couldn’t pronounce then.
And now we can’t pronounce.
BABU-DA
These are government games.
SURJYA
No.
British changed names for their convenience.
Now people are correcting it.
PODDAR
What difference does it make?
BAPPA
It’s identity.
Starts with name.
SURJYA
It’s also what you do. Your signature.
World trusts labels more than the person.
(PODDAR takes out cash, counts slowly.)
BAPPA
Uncle, buy a phone with good battery.
PODDAR
Battery?
BAPPA
Yes.
At least your identity shouldn’t die by evening.
PODDAR (stands, pockets the notes carefully—like a man carrying a small defeat.)
Haripada—tea bill.
(He pays. HARIPADA nods.)
PODDAR (to all, half-smile)
Next time I’ll come with cash and a diary—
like Babu-da.
BABU-DA
Good.
BAPPA
Diary also can be lost, uncle.
SURJYA
But losing a diary doesn’t feel like losing a person.
PODDAR
See you.
(PODDAR exits. BAPPA sips. BABU-DA folds his newspaper.)
BABU-DA
Surjya… your generation talks too much.
SURJYA
Because your generation didn’t.
(BABU-DA almost smiles—almost.)
BAPPA
My girlfriend is coming.
BABU-DA
Always girlfriend! Study also!
SURJYA (stands)
I have to go.
SURJYA (to BAPPA, as they move, casual)
Tell Poddar-uncle—write his phone number on paper also.
BAPPA
He will write. Then he will lose the paper.
(SURJYA smiles—small.)
(LIGHTS FADE.)