The Burqa Master by Cid Andrenelli

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This Play is the copyright of the Author and may not be performed, copied or sold without the Author's prior consent

CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY

Behdad Babai (old man)
Hamid Babai (son)
Faruzeh (daughter)
Abbas (son-in-law)
Hosro- (grandson)
Jamshid Mohamed
Zina Mohamed
Neighbour (at Jamshid's flat)
Mr Akbar
Mummy Akbar
Hafsa Akbar
Fatima Akbar
Uncle Aziz
Turpin-Cyrus (small dog)

The dog should be a real dog. (A Jack Russell or about
the same size.) The dog does not need to do anything,
other than sit still and eat biscuits when given.
The dog on entering or exiting the stage is always
carried and placed on a bed, a sofa or on the floor.
Therefore if it's impossible to have a 'real dog' a
prop/fake dog could be used in its place.

Act 1 Scene 1

Lights come up slowly revealing the two rooms of
the Babai Flat. On the stage right the bedroom is empty.
There is a partial screen with a doorway separating the
two rooms. On the stage left is the sitting room. Two
men are praying on the floor, an old man in a grubby
tunic and his grandson Hosro in pyjamas. The old man's
son, Hamid, sits at the dining table eating and watching
them while they pray; he's dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.
After several bows Hosro gets up and walks out the
sitting room door on stage left.

The cassette player on the dining table clicks off abruptly
in mid cry and the old man is suspended in mid
undulation. He crawls across the carpet on his hands
and knees and pulls himself to his feet by grabbing hold
of the table. He picks up the huge cassette player and
starts shaking it, then he bangs it down and pulls out the
tape which has unravelled.)

OLD MAN: (Looking at Hamid.) Finished already?
Stuffing your face! Where's Hosro?
HAMID: Gone back to bed if he's got any sense.
OLD MAN: Any sense? Like his parents still in bed
sleeping, it's a shame! (The old man goes to the door.
Hamid pours a second cup of coffee.) Get up you
lazy pigs! (Shouting into corridor.) Too lazy to pray!
Too lazy to give your son his breakfast!
HAMID: (Calling to his father from the table.) DAD! It's
only half past six. DAD!
OLD MAN: (Walking back to Hamid.) Half past six! Then
the corner store is open, go and get me the
newspaper and ask that thick thicko Salim if my
magazine has arrived.
HAMID: You only ordered it yesterday! (Hamid puts on
his leather jacket and starts to leave.)
OLD MAN: (Calling after him.) So what? And bring
home a tin of Okho Chi and some boxes of Gaz. I
want the ones that have the picture of the owner on
the lid.
(The old man is left alone. He turns and sits down at the
table and tries mending his cassette. His daughter
Faruzeh and son-in-law Abbas enter the room. They are
both dressed in jeans and Abbas is wearing a Kimono
jacket with his longish hair tied in a ponytail. The old
man stands up and looks at him in disgust.)
ABBAS: Ahh! Is there any coffee left in the pot? (He
shakes the pot, gets a cup from the shelf and pours
himself some coffee. He takes a biscuit from the plate
on the table and munches.)
OLD MAN: What a cheek! Look at you filling your guts!
Where were you?
FARUZEH: We prayed in the bedroom. Look, can you get
Hosro up at eight or I'll be late to open the shop.
OLD MAN: Why can't his father get him up? (Pointing at
Abbas.)
FARUZEH: Abbas is dropping me off at work and he's on
early shifts this week. (Abbas, his mouth full of
biscuits, nods and grunts in agreement.) We'll be
late.
(She and Abbas put their coats on and head out the
door.)
OLD MAN: (Sitting back down and picking up his
cassette, he starts unravelling the tape in a temper.)
Bloody idiot, praying in the bedroom my arse!
(The door bangs open and Hamid enters carrying a Jack
Russell dog in his arms.)
OLD MAN: (Jumping up.) What is this? Put it down and
kick it out the door, then wash your shoe seven
times. Oh my God you must wash all seven times!
Hands, jacket, everything! You halfwit! How many
times have I told you? Never touch a dog; you must
get rid of it!
HAMID: (Kicking the door shut behind him.) Dad listen,
I can't . . . I've saved him! Some bastard abandoned
him. He was tied to a lamp post outside the corner
store.
OLD MAN: I don't care what some other bloody bastard
did! You are not bringing a dog in the house. Oh
no! You tried many times as a boy and now you
think I am old and gaga? OUT WITH IT!
HAMID: I can't Dad, he won't do any harm.
OLD MAN: Everyone knows Angel Gabriel will not enter
any home with a dog inside!
HAMID: Angel Gabriel doesn't visit us, even if we don't
have a dog!
OLD MAN: How do you know what the Angel Gabriel
does? Dogs can't be in the house or he won't enter
and that's the truth! What is all this rescuing and
saving dogs? What is wrong with your brains?
(Snaps his fingers in front of Hamid's eyes.)
HAMID: Listen, I can't take him to the Dogs Home.
Salim told me if they can't re-home him he'll be put
down.
OLD MAN: What does thicko Salim know about it? He
can't even run the corner store!
HAMID: He has a sister who lives next to the Battersea
Dogs Home! Anyway I had to adopt him, he's a
great dog . . . he'll make a great pet.
OLD MAN: You can't keep it as a pet because that's the
custom of the bloody Kafirs and what is this
adoption rubbish? Adopt a dog? Nonsense! Is he a
human orphan? There's no reason to keep a dog as a
pet it's a waste of time!
HAMID: Why not? What's wrong with him? Look at
him! I've named him Turpin after the famous
highwayman.
(The old man takes a quick glance at the dog cuddled up
in Hamid's arms.)
OLD MAN: It is not permissible for a Muslim to keep a
dog. If people are praying and a dog walks within a
stones throw of them, their prayer is made null and
void. Listen Birdbrain! You can only have a dog if
you are blind or deaf. Who ever keeps a dog loses
the rewards for his good deeds! (Turpin lets out a
pitiful howl.) Unless of course the dog is used for
guarding a farm or cattle.
HAMID: That's it! We need a guard dog, rising crime in
the area and all that, he'll be useful. (Hamid holds
the dog out to the old man who recoils backwards.)
OLD MAN: Don't talk rot! Look at him! A guard dog my
arse! He's no bigger than a cat!
HAMID: He'll grow! He's intelligent. He'll bark if
robbers try and break in!
OLD MAN: At least he's not black, black dogs are evil!
The devil in animal form. All black dogs must be
killed, they are Satan. Hmm, he has a black patch
over his eye . . . bad sign!
HAMID: Kill Scooby Doo? Kill Lassie?
Old man: Of course not! (Throwing up his arms.) Are
you blind? I have seen Lassie myself on the telly and
that silly Scooby Doo, and they are not black!
(Hosro enters; he's dressed in his school uniform.)
HOSRO: WOW! A dog, where'd you find him? (He
reaches out to stroke the dog.)
OLD MAN: Don't touch it, come away! Come to the
kitchen and I'll get your breakfast. (The old man
pulls Hosro by his jacket sleeve out through the door
with him.)
HAMID: (He puts the dog down and takes a biscuit from
the table.) Here boy! (He throws him the biscuit and
the dog gobbles it up.) Oh, hungry eh? You might as
well have the lot! (He puts the plate of biscuits down
on the floor by the table and sits on the sofa
watching the dog with a soppy grin on his face. Then
his mobile phone rings.) Hello. Yes this is Reza
Mahammed Al Haj. Do you wish to speak to my
widowed mother about English lessons? . . . Yes I
will call her to the phone. (Hamid stands up and
puts the phone down on the table. He makes a quick
shuffling tap dance and picks the phone back up. He
then speaks in a high-pitched falsetto voice.) Good
morning! May I help you? (He purses up his lips and
flutters his eyelashes.) Does your wife speak any
English? (He nods his head wisely then raises his
eyebrows.) Oh yes, I believe in full immersion, most
definitely! I never speak in Persian, unless it's
absolutely necessary. Apart from general
grammar and learning our ABC, I also teach
passages from the classics, Shakespeare, Milton and
so on. Yes, it improves the vocabulary and
diction. (Pause, shaking his head.) Considering my
social position the lessons are absolutely private, I
prefer to teach undisturbed. Ah ha! (Eyes upward,
he simpers and pats into place his imaginary hairdo.)
I'm free on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons and
charge 15 pounds per lesson. (He narrows his eyes
and smiles.) Tuesday? Fine, could you give me your
address? (He scribbles it down.) Yes, thank you, four
O clock, Good-bye. (Hamid puts the phone in his
pocket, picks up the dog and leaves the sitting room.)

(The light slowly darkens on stage to black.)

[end of extract]

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