THE CHAIR NO ONE WANTED

SCENE: THE VACUUM OF POWER

(The stage is dimly lit. The meeting has been going on for hours. Water bottles are empty. Everyone is exhausted. Mr. Shyam stands near the empty chair. Mr. Dinesh sits far away, trying to be invisible. Mr. Keshav is scrolling on his phone. Miss Pallavi is standing, looking angry. Mrs. Rekha is knitting aggressively. Mr. Raju stands by the door, holding a tray of cold tea.)

Mr. Shyam: (Voice hoarse) Ladies and gentlemen, it is 11:00 PM. We have been here for four hours. The agenda was simple. Elect a new Secretary. I am stepping down. My heart condition does not allow me to manage your water leaks and parking fights anymore. Who will take the chair?

(Silence. The fan whirs: Wobb-wobb-wobb.)

Miss Pallavi: This is ridiculous. A society of 200 families, and not one man has the guts to lead?

Mr. Keshav: Why "man," Pallavi? Why don't you take it? You have so many opinions.

Miss Pallavi: I work 12 hours a day, Keshav. I am barely home. Leadership needs presence. You are a freelancer. You are always in the compound smoking. Why don't you take it?

Mr. Keshav: (Laughs smoothly) Ah, no. I am a consultant. I advise. I don't execute. Besides, the Secretary’s job is a thankless curse. Look at Shyam Uncle. He aged ten years in one term. I value my youth.

Mr. Shyam: (Dryly) Thank you for the compliment, Keshav. So, no volunteers? In that case, according to the bylaws, we have to nominate someone based on seniority and availability.

(Shyam looks around the room. His eyes land on Dinesh.)

Mr. Shyam: Dinesh.

(Dinesh jumps. He knocks over a plastic cup.)

Mr. Dinesh: Me? No, Uncle. No. Impossible.

Mr. Shyam: You work from home. You are calm. You have no criminal record. You are perfect.

Mr. Dinesh: I have anxiety! I can't handle conflict! Last week, the vegetable vendor yelled at me, and I cried. Rekha had to go negotiate the price of onions!

Mrs. Rekha: (Without looking up from knitting) It’s true. He paid 80 rupees for tomatoes. He is not a leader. He is a donor.

Mr. Keshav: (Smirking) See? Even his wife agrees. Dinesh is a follower. We need a lion.

Miss Pallavi: A lion? Or a wolf, Keshav? We know you want the chair. You just want us to beg you so you can act like a savior.

Mr. Keshav: I am offended. But... if the society insists...

Mr. Shyam: No. Keshav, you owe 6 months of maintenance. You are ineligible.

Mr. Keshav: (Angry) That is a clerical error!

Mr. Shyam: That is a disqualification. So, it comes back to Dinesh.

Mr. Dinesh: Why me? Why not... Raju?

(Everyone turns to look at Raju, the watchman. Raju freezes.)

Mr. Raju: Sir? I am just staff.

Mr. Dinesh: No, really! Raju knows everything. He knows whose car leaks oil. He knows who throws garbage in the wrong bin. He is the real leader!

Mrs. Rekha: Dinesh, stop hiding behind the watchman. It is pathetic.

Mr. Dinesh: I am not hiding! I am empowering the working class!

Miss Pallavi: You are delegating your duty because you are scared. This is the problem with our generation. We want the rights, but we run from the responsibilities. We want clean water, but we won't fix the pump.

Mr. Shyam: Speaking of the pump... Raju, what is the status?

Mr. Raju: (Hesitant) Sir, the water level is low. The motor is making a sound. If we don't fix it tonight, tomorrow morning... no water.

Mr. Keshav: (Standing up) See? Crisis! We need a decision! Shyam Uncle, you stay for one more month. Fix the pump. Then leave.

Mr. Shyam: (Slamming his hand on the table) No! I resigned yesterday! I am a free man! If you don't pick a Secretary tonight, the water stops tomorrow. And it will be on your heads.

(Panic sets in. The residents look at each other.)

Mr. Dinesh: Rekha... what do we do? No water means no shower.

Mrs. Rekha: Then take the chair, Dinesh.

Mr. Dinesh: I can't! What if I make a mistake? What if I hire the wrong plumber? What if people hate me?

Mrs. Rekha: (Putting her knitting down) People will hate you anyway, Dinesh. If you take the chair, they will hate you for your decisions. If you don't, they will hate you for your cowardice. Which hate can you live with?

Mr. Dinesh: Neither! I want to be liked!

Miss Pallavi: Leadership is not a popularity contest! It is a service! Look at Raju. He stands at the gate for 12 hours. He takes abuse from delivery boys, residents, police. He does it for 10,000 rupees. You are being asked to sit in a chair and sign checks, and you are sweating like a pig!

Mr. Keshav: Easy, Pallavi. Don't shame the poor guy.

Miss Pallavi: I will shame him! Because he is capable! He is honest! He is just lazy!

Mr. Dinesh: I am not lazy! I am... cautious!

Mr. Shyam: (Voice quiet but firm) The tank is emptying, Dinesh. While you are being cautious, the water is draining. In real life, doing nothing is also an action. And it has consequences.

Mr. Raju: (Softly) Sir... my family lives in the servant quarters. If water stops... my baby...

(Dinesh looks at Raju. He sees the genuine fear in Raju’s eyes. He looks at Keshav, who is grinning, waiting for Dinesh to fail so he can manipulate the bylaws. He looks at Pallavi, who is judging him. He looks at Rekha, who is waiting.)

Mr. Dinesh: (To Rekha) Will you help me? With the accounts?

Mrs. Rekha: I will handle the accounts. You handle the people.

Mr. Dinesh: (Taking a deep breath) Okay.

(Keshav laughs.)

Mr. Keshav: Oh, come on. Dinesh? He will faint at the first committee meeting.

Mr. Dinesh: (Turning to Keshav) Maybe. But at least I pay my maintenance, Keshav.

(Keshav stops laughing.)

Mr. Dinesh: (Walking slowly towards the empty chair) Raju, call the plumber. Tell him to come now. Emergency rates approved.

Mr. Raju: (Smiling) Yes, Sir! But... who signs the work order?

Mr. Dinesh: (Standing in front of the chair. He touches the leather. It looks heavy.)

Mr. Dinesh: I do.

(He sits. It is not a triumphant sit. He sinks in. He looks small in the big chair. But he is there.)

Mr. Shyam: (Smiling) Recorded in the minutes. Mr. Dinesh is the new Secretary. Good luck, son. You will need it. Here are the keys.

(Shyam slides a heavy bunch of rusty keys across the table. They make a loud clinking sound.)

Mr. Dinesh: (Picking up the keys) Pallavi, you want change? You are the Joint Secretary.

Miss Pallavi: (Shocked) Me? I didn't volunteer!

Mr. Dinesh: Leadership needs presence, right? You said it. Join me. Or are you just talk?

(Pallavi looks at him. She smirks.)

Miss Pallavi: Touché. Fine. I accept.

Mr. Keshav: This is a disaster. The blind leading the loud.

Mr. Dinesh: Keshav, your check is due tomorrow. Or we cut your parking access.

Mr. Keshav: You can't do that!

Mr. Dinesh: Read the bylaws. Section 4, Clause B. I read them while I was hiding in the corner.

(Rekha smiles. She picks up her knitting.)

Mr. Dinesh: Meeting adjourned. Raju, get me a tea. Strong.

Mr. Raju: Yes, Secretary Sir!

(Raju runs out. Shyam pats Dinesh’s back and walks away, looking ten years younger. Dinesh sits in the chair, clutching the keys. He is terrified. But he is the Secretary.)

Mr. Dinesh: (To Rekha) I’m going to throw up.

Mrs. Rekha: Throw up later. Sign the plumbing order first.

(Dinesh picks up the pen. His hand shakes, but he signs.)

(FADE TO BLACK as the sound of the fan continues: Wobb-wobb-wobb.)