THE BROKEN ROOF

SCENE 1: THE DRIP OF FAILURE

(The room is dim. The sound of rain is constant. There are three buckets on the floor catching water. Suresh is sitting on the floor, surrounded by books and newspapers, aggressively circling job ads. Ramesh is in the corner, trying to tape a plastic sheet over a crack in the wall.)

Mr. Suresh: (Without looking up) Did you fix it?

Mr. Ramesh: The tape won't hold. The wall is damp. I need cement.

Mr. Suresh: (Scoffing) Cement. We don't have money for milk, Baba, and you want cement. Just let it drown us. Maybe that’s better.

Mrs. Savitri: (Stirring a pot of watery dal) Suresh, don't speak like that. It’s bad luck.

Mr. Suresh: Bad luck? Look around, Ma! We live in a sieve! I have a B.Tech degree, and I am sleeping next to a bucket of sludge. What more bad luck is left?

Mr. Ramesh: (Wiping his hands on a rag) The degree didn't teach you patience?

Mr. Suresh: Patience doesn't pay rent! I went to three interviews today. Do you know what they asked? "What does your father do?"

(Ramesh stops moving. He stands very still.)

Mr. Suresh: I froze. I couldn't say "He carries bricks on his head." So I lied. I said you are a... contractor.

Mr. Ramesh: (Quietly) A contractor. That sounds big. Did the lie get you the job?

Mr. Suresh: No. They looked at my shoes. My torn shoes. And they knew. They knew I don't belong in their glass building.

Mr. Ramesh: (Walking to the cupboard) I told you to buy new shoes. I gave you 500 rupees last week.

Mr. Suresh: I used it to print resumes! Do you think 500 rupees buys dignity? You don't understand, Baba. You are happy being small. You are happy with this... this hole.

Mr. Ramesh: (Voice hardening) I am not happy. I am tired. My back feels like it is made of glass. My hands are sandpaper. But I wake up every morning and I go. I don't sit here and curse the rain.

Mr. Suresh: Because you have no ambition! You accepted your fate. I refuse to!

Mrs. Savitri: Suresh! Stop it! He worked double shifts to pay your college fees.

Mr. Suresh: And what was the point? I am educated, but I am useless. Maybe I should just join you at the construction site. Maybe I should carry bricks too. That’s all I am good for, right?

(Ramesh walks up to Suresh. He looks at his son with intense pain.)

Mr. Ramesh: Do not insult my labor. My labor built the college you studied in. My labor built the hospital you were born in.

Mr. Suresh: (Standing up, shouting) Then why are we still poor? If you worked so hard, why is the roof still leaking?

(Ramesh raises his hand to slap him but stops mid-air. His hand trembles. He lowers it slowly.)

Mr. Ramesh: The roof leaks because I spent the roof money on your books.

(Silence. The only sound is the water dripping: Plink. Plink.)

Mr. Ramesh: (Softly) I will get the cement tomorrow. Eat your dinner.

(Ramesh grabs his umbrella and walks out into the heavy rain.)

(Lights fade.)

SCENE 2: THE MIRROR ON THE STREET

(The next day. Outside a glass office building. Suresh is standing near a tea stall, smoking a cheap cigarette. He looks defeated. He watches executives in suits walking in and out.)

(A luxury car pulls up. A young man in a suit steps out. It is Vikas, Suresh’s college classmate.)

Mr. Vikas: Suresh? Is that you?

(Suresh tries to hide his cigarette. He straightens his shirt.)

Mr. Suresh: Vikas. Hey. Long time.

Mr. Vikas: Man, what are you doing here? I heard you topped the batch in Thermodynamics. Where are you working?

Mr. Suresh: I... I’m looking. Just came for an interview here.

Mr. Vikas: Oh, at TechCorp? My dad owns the building. Let me talk to HR. Come inside!

Mr. Suresh: (Backing away) No, no. I’m in a rush.

Mr. Vikas: Come on, don't be shy. By the way, look at that old man there. (Points to a construction site across the road).

(Suresh looks. He sees his father, Ramesh, carrying a heavy sack of cement on his back. Ramesh is struggling. He stumbles but catches himself. He doesn't see Suresh.)

Mr. Vikas: (Laughing) Look at them. No safety gear, nothing. These laborers are like ants, right? They just keep moving.

(Suresh stares at his father. He sees Ramesh wipe sweat mixed with rain from his forehead. He sees Ramesh smiling at a coworker, sharing a bidi.)

Mr. Suresh: (Whispering) He’s not an ant.

Mr. Vikas: What?

Mr. Suresh: (Voice shaking) That man... he isn't an ant. He is carrying 50 kilos so his family doesn't drown.

Mr. Vikas: Whoa, deep. Anyway, come in for coffee?

Mr. Suresh: (Looking at Vikas’s polished shoes, then at his father’s bare feet) No. I have to go. I have work.

Mr. Vikas: What work?

Mr. Suresh: Real work.

(Suresh throws the cigarette away. He walks across the street towards the construction site. He doesn't go to his father. He stands at the gate, watching him work for a long minute. He cries silently in the rain.)

(Lights fade.)

SCENE 3: THE REPAIR

(The Chawl. Night. The rain has stopped, but the house is damp. Savitri is waiting. Suresh enters. He is soaked, dirty, and holding a heavy bag.)

Mrs. Savitri: Where were you? Your father hasn't come home yet.

Mr. Suresh: (Putting the bag down) I know. He is doing overtime.

Mrs. Savitri: What is in the bag?

Mr. Suresh: Cement. And waterproofing sheets.

Mrs. Savitri: (Shocked) Where did you get the money? Did you steal it?

Mr. Suresh: No. I sold my phone.

Mrs. Savitri: Your smartphone? But you need it for job applications!

Mr. Suresh: I don't need a phone to apply for jobs. I need a roof so my father can sleep.

(Suresh opens the bag. He starts mixing the cement in a bucket. He looks determined.)

Mr. Suresh: Ma, give me the ladder.

Mrs. Savitri: Now? In the dark?

Mr. Suresh: Yes. Before he comes home.

(Suresh climbs the ladder. He starts patching the wall. He is clumsy but forceful. He works with a desperate energy.)

(Door opens. Ramesh enters. He looks exhausted. He sees Suresh on the ladder, covered in grey dust.)

Mr. Ramesh: Suresh? What are you doing?

Mr. Suresh: (Not looking down) Fixing the leak.

Mr. Ramesh: Get down. You will ruin your clothes. Those are your interview clothes.

Mr. Suresh: Clothes wash, Baba. The wall doesn't fix itself.

Mr. Ramesh: (Putting his tiffin box down) I brought the money. I did extra shift. I can buy the cement tomorrow.

Mr. Suresh: Keep the money. Buy new shoes.

Mr. Ramesh: What?

Mr. Suresh: (Turning on the ladder to look at his father) I saw you today. At the site.

(Ramesh freezes. He looks ashamed.)

Mr. Ramesh: You... you saw me? With the load?

Mr. Suresh: Yes.

Mr. Ramesh: (Looking down) I didn't want you to see me like that. Like a donkey.

Mr. Suresh: (Climbing down the ladder slowly) I didn't see a donkey, Baba. I saw a giant.

(Suresh walks up to his father. He takes Ramesh’s rough, calloused hands in his own.)

Mr. Suresh: I was ashamed of you because I was weak. I thought dignity came from a suit. I was wrong. Dignity comes from these hands.

Mr. Ramesh: (Tears welling up) Suresh...

Mr. Suresh: I’m sorry I called you small. You are the biggest man I know.

(Suresh hugs his father. It is a tight, desperate hug. Ramesh hesitates, then hugs him back, sobbing into his son’s shoulder.)

Mr. Suresh: Now help me with this sheet. I’m an engineer, but I don't know how to mix cement properly. You have to teach me.

Mr. Ramesh: (Wiping his eyes, smiling) Engineers know nothing. Move. Let me show you.

(Father and son stand side by side, mixing the cement. The rhythmic plink-plink of the leak stops as they patch the hole together.)

(FADE TO BLACK)