PROJECT ON DRAMATIZATION OF THE STORY "THE LOST CHILD" BY MULK RAJ ANAND

 

  

Dramatization of the story

The Lost Child

by

Mulk Raj Anand

CHARACTERS

The lost child 

His Parents 

A sweet-meat seller 

A flower seller 

A juggler 

A man.

Output of the Project: 

Time           :         A spring morning.

Place          :         A village fair ground

 

(It is the festival of spring. From the wintry shades of narrow lanes and alleys emerges a gaily clad humanity. Some walk, some ride on horses, others sit, being carried in bamboo and bullock carts. Suddenly a little boy runs between his father’s legs, brimming over with life and laughter.)

 

Parents:               Come, child, come otherwise you will be lagged behind. Don’t look at the toys in the shops.

 

(The child hurries towards his parents, his feet are obedient to their call, his eyes still lingering on the receding toys. As he comes to where they has stopped to wait for him, he cannot suppress the desire of his heart, even though he well knows the old, cold stare of refusal in their eyes.)

 

The Child:          (With keen plead) I want that toy, Father. (His father looks at him red-eyed, in his familiar tyrant’s way. His mother, melted by the free spirit of the day is tender and, gives him her finger to hold)

 

Mother:             (Cajoling him) Look, child, what is before you! Look at the beautiful flowering mustard-field, pale like melting gold as it swept across miles and miles of even land. Look, A group of dragon-flies were bustling about on their gaudy purple wings, intercepting the flight of a lone black bee or butterfly in search of sweetness from the flowers.

 

(The child becomes sad and begins to follow them in the air with his gaze, till one of insects will still its wings and rest, and he tries to catch it. But it goes fluttering, flapping, up into the air, when he has almost caught it in his hands.)

 

Mother:             (With caution tone) Child, come, come on to the footpath.

 

(He runs towards his parents gaily and walks abreast of them for a while, being, however, soon left behind, attracted by the little insects and worms along the footpath that are teeming out from their hiding places to enjoy the sunshine.)

 

Parents:               (loudly send a call to their son from the shade of a grove) “Come, child, come!” (He runs towards them. A shower of young flowers falls upon the child as he enters the grove, and, forgetting his parents, he begins to gather the raining petals in his hands. Sweet cooing of doves is heard in the background. The child runs towards his parents.)

 

The Child:          (Shouting) “The dove! The dove!

 

Parents:               (In warning tone) Come, child, come! (But the child is running in wild capers round the banyan tree, and gathering him up they took the narrow, winding footpath which leads to the fair through the mustard fields. As they near the village the child can see many other footpaths full of throngs, converging to the whirlpool of the fair, and feels at once repelled and fascinated by the confusion of the world he is entering.)

 

(A sweetmeat seller enters hawking)

 

Sweetmeat seller:      (In professional tone) Gulab-jaman, rasagulla, burfi, jalebi,” (Immediately crowd presses round his counter at the foot of an architecture of many coloured sweets, decorated with leaves of silver and gold. The child stares open-eyed and his mouth waters for the burfi that is his favourite sweet.)

 

The Child:                   (With a plead, in murmur tone) I want that burfi. (No answer comes. Without waiting for an answer, he moves on.)

 

(A flower-seller enters hawking)

 

Flower-Seller:             A garland of gulmohur, a garland of gulmohur!

 

The Child:                   (Going to the seller) I want that garland. (No answer comes from his parents. Without waiting for an answer, he moves on.)

 

(A balloon seller enters holding a pole with yellow, red, green and purple balloons flying from it. The child is simply carried away by the rainbow glory of their silken colours and he is filled with an overwhelming desire to possess them all. But he well knows his parents will never buy him the balloons because they will say he is too old to play with such toys. So, he walks on farther.)

 

(A snake-charmer is seen stood playing a flute to a snake which coils itself in a basket, its head raises in a graceful bend like the neck of a swan, while the music steals into its invisible ears like the gentle rippling of an invisible waterfall. The child goes towards the snake-charmer. But, knowing his parents has forbidden him to hear such coarse music as the snake- charmer played, he proceeds farther. There is a roundabout in full swing. Men, women and children, carry away in a whirling motion, shriek and cry with dizzy laughter. The child watches them intently.)

 

The Child:                   (With a bold request) I want to go on the roundabout, please, Father, Mother. (Again, there is no reply. He turns to look at his parents. They are not there, ahead of him. He turns to look on either side. They are not there. He looks behind. There is no sign of them. A full, deep cry rose within his dry throat and with a sudden jerk of his body he runs from where he is standing)

 

The Child:                   (Crying in real fear) Mother, Father! (Tears rolldown from his eyes, hot and fierce; his flushed face is convulsed with fear. Panic- stricken, he runs to one side first, then to the other, hither and thither in all directions, knowing not where to go.) “Mother, Father (loudly wailing. His yellow turban comes untied and his clothes become muddy. Crying. He tries to look intently among the patches of bright yellow clothes, but there is no sign of his father and mother among these people, who seem to laugh and talk just for the sake of laughing and talking. He runs quickly again, this time to a shrine to which people seem to be crowding. Every little

inch of space here is congested with men, but he runs through people’s legs.)

 

The Child:                   (Sobs near the entrance to the temple) Mother, Father! (The poor child struggles to thrust a way between their feet but, knocks to and fro by their brutal movements. He shouts in very high-pitched voice) Father, Mother!

 

(A man in the surging crowd, enters, hears his cry and, stooping with great difficulty, lifted him up in his arms.)

 

A man:              How did you get here, child? Whose baby, are you?”

 

The Child:          (Weeping bitterly) I want my mother; I want my father!

 

A man:              (trying to soothe him and taking him to the roundabout) Will you have a ride on the horse?

 

The Child:          (Sobs and shouts) I want my mother; I want my father!

 

(Then They headed towards the place where the snake- charmer still playing on the flute to the swaying cobra.)

The man:           (Showing him the snake-charmer and in requesting tone) Listen to that nice music, child!

 

The Child:          (The child shuts his ears with his fingers and shouts his double-pitched strain) I want my mother; I want my father!

 

(The man takes him near the balloons,

 

The man:           (Trying to cajole him) Would you like a rainbow-coloured balloon?

 

 The Child:         (Wailing) I want my mother; I want my father!”

 

(The man, still trying to make the child happy, bears him to the gate where the flower-seller sat.)

 

The man:           (Indicating the flowers) Look! Can you smell those nice flowers, child! Would you like a garland to put round your neck?

 

The Child:          (Refusing his request, begins to wail again) I want my mother, I want my father!”

 

(The man, to humour his disconsolate charge by a gift of sweets, took him to the counter of the sweet shop.)

 

The man:           What sweets would you like, child?

 

The Child:          (Sobbing) I want my mother; I want my father!

 

 

********* Curtain falls **********