Shahid You haven’t read it yet.
Deedee Give me a few years.
Shahid Thanks. (Quickly, referring to the spliff.) I want it.
Deedee Sure?
Shahid takes it, draws mightily and passes it on.
Shahid What is this?
Deedee Moroccan.
Shahid takes his leather jacket off.
What’re you doing?
Shahid Feeling good too.
She starts laughing.
What?
Deedee If my friends could see me now …! Kids, mortgages, this would not even register in their dreams! What do you want to do when you grow up?
She turns up the music while Shahid takes another long draw.
Shahid (affecting a Chili-like nonchalance) Whatever you want me to do, babe.
Deedee Yes, call me baby. Baby, baby, baby.
She starts moving to the music, slowly, while Shahid watches her dance.
Can’t wait to get a place of my own.
Shahid Why are you splitting up?
Deedee For years I was involved with his politics. Too involved. It all makes you feel guilty. It limits the imagination.
Shahid What d’you like now?
Deedee (holding up the spliff) This. Teaching. Music. When I can, I do a lot of nothing. And make stabs at pleasure. (Pops open a pill box.) Want one?
Shahid What are they?
Deedee E. Ecstasy. It’ll make you see around corners.
Shahid Is this why you invited me over?
Deedee No. Because you’re lonely and I like the way you look at me.
Shahid pops a pill. She offers him a bottle of water to swig with the pill and resumes dancing, after popping one herself.
You’ve got café-au-lait skin.
She recites.
A savage place! As holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon lover!
Shahid (continuing the rhyme from ‘Kubla Khan’)
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced!
Deedee, impressed, acknowledges Shahid’s participation. She listlessly flicks through his manuscript.
Deedee Tell me your story …
Shahid draws more on his spliff and pops another pill.
Shahid Everybody’s free, everybody’s free with Prince on the gas!
Deedee Cold, wet and worthy — that’s all Greenham Common amounted to.
Shahid I read Shelley to her, sitting by the pond. Papa was so mad.
Deedee Dress like a punk and leave home …
Shahid pops another pill while Deedee resumes dancing.
Let’s go to the end-of-decade party!
Shahid The decade hasn’t ended yet.
Deedee It will feel like it has! See how the under-classes are fighting back against Thatcher’s greed.
She grabs Shahid and they rush out of the door. Strapper is seen dealing drugs to some students on the road. Shahid and Deedee go along with them, shouting ‘End-of-decade party!’
Rave music. Shadows coalesce into a rave scene.
SCENE SIX
Shahid’s digs. Shahid returns. Preparing for bed, he retches and falls.
Riaz, disturbed by the noise, comes into his room, and is alarmed to see Shahid choking on his vomit. He picks him up and lays him to bed. Pulls down his trousers and covers him with a blanket.
Confused, Shahid calls out Riaz’s name. The latter hushes him to sleep.
When he sees Shahid finally asleep, he recites a prayer, cleans the room and slips out.
SCENE SEVEN
Shahid’s digs. Morning. Shahid’s lying on his bed, groggy. Chad enters, excited. Riaz is a pace behind, carrying a folder bearing his manuscript, with Tahira in tow.
Chad You’re definitely the lucky type. The brother asked for you particularly.
Shahid mumbles incoherently.
Riaz How are you feeling, Shahid?
Shahid continues to mumble.
Chad Shahid!
Shahid Huh? What is it?
Riaz Please.
He places the folder in Shahid’s hand.
Chad (bending over Shahid and reading the cover page) ‘The Martyr’s Imagination’ …?
Riaz Yes. It is my little book.
Tahira (excited) It’s finished?
Riaz Pen-written only until now.
Tahira Is it an attack on that blaspheming writer?
Riaz (continuing, to Shahid) Please, would you do one thing for me?
Shahid Whatever you want, Riaz.
Riaz Will you convert it to print?
Shahid Of course.
Riaz Many others have volunteered but you are the right person for this task.
Shahid listlessly looks through the manuscript.
I am from a small village in Pakistan. They are basically … songs of memory, adolescence and twilight. But perhaps they will change the world a little too.
Shahid I didn’t know you –
Riaz It’s God’s work.
Shahid With your name on the title page.
Riaz (laughing) Yes, I am entirely to blame.
Tahira (to Riaz) What message does the book have, brother?
Riaz (holding her face tenderly) The message — and all good art must have a message — is of love and compassion.
Chad Beautiful.
Shahid Brother Riaz, thank you, thank you for everything!
Riaz No, no.
Riaz and Tahira leave.
Chad Wow, that’s incredible! I offer you one warning — you must be strictly confidential about this.
Shahid Are you saying I’m not trustworthy?
Chad No, no, brother. But many important people in the community wouldn’t like him being too creative. It too frivolous for them. Some of those guys go into a supermarket and if music playing, they run out again. Why don’t you enjoy some rest before you begin such important work?
Shahid lies down, Chad reads the manuscript.
(Reading.) Magnificent, ‘Gibreel’s fragrant green sword will veil the unveiled …’
Shahid sits up and reaches for the bowl beside his bed.
‘Wet bodies and captivating tongues reek of Satan’s hot breath, Gibreel’s fragrant green sword …’