The King's Great Great Grandson and I

CHARACTERS

THE BRIGADIER, the great great grandson of the King of Afghanistan

MARK, an American in Pakistan – a perpetually-worn bandana hides bad hair

BCC DIRECTOR, the head of the Boy Scout Cadet College in Badrasi.

TIME AND PLACE

Early November, 2005, about a month after the earthquake in Kashmir. The action of the play all occurs on the serpentine mountain road between Islamabad and Muzaffarabad in Pakistan.

SCENE AND SET DESIGN

[THE BRIGADIER is driving MARK into the Hindu Kush mountains so that he might get an idea of the scope of the earthquake damage. It is MARK's first time back in the mountains since his 1998 India trip and he is euphoric.]

[The stage design is identical to that of 'Angel Burgers' with a white, compact Datsun sedan replacing the Nissan 4x4. Again, the simulation of motion is achieved by projecting video of a receding road behind the car. The mountain scenery is punctuated by occasional villages, school vans and uniformed children walking roadside.]

[THE BRIGADIER and MARK enter stage right and get into the car. THE BRIGADIER squeezes his hulking frame behind the driving wheel while MARK sits in the passenger seat.]

THE BRIGADIER: Before we start I must offer you a hat like the locals wear so you will blend in. You wear it like this. [THE BRIGADIER puts a flat, donut-rimmed wool hat on MARK's head and with some difficulty wiggles it into place.]

MARK: [Looking at himself in the rearview mirror.] Pure American Taliban.

THE BRIGADIER: You are looking quite dashing, sir. Tomorrow we will get you a real kurta to go along with the hat. So, I trust you had a good rest and some breakfast?

MARK: Actually, going to the hotel took longer than we thought it would. I just got back a few minutes ago. Your son was showing me around the house a little bit.

THE BRIGADIER: I hope you are finding Pakistan to your liking? [THE BRIGADIER puts his hand on the back of the passenger seat and twists his torso around to back the car out of the driveway.]

MARK: I only got in the night before last and flew directly to Islamabad so I haven't seen much. Actually I was surprised how much the road from the airport to the hotel in Rawalpindi resembles some parts of industrialized Illinois.

THE BRIGADIER: Illinois? I had a very interesting encounter in Chicago a couple years back.

MARK: So you've been to the States?

THE BRIGADIER: Yes, I just traveled by myself all across the US for six months in a rental car. You see, I like to get to know a country and I've found that at least four months is necessary for this. I like to meet people and have friends to stay with wherever I travel. I don't care for hotels.

MARK: That's definitely the way to do it. Total immersion into the culture. Hotel life is so homogenous the world round.

THE BRIGADIER: But of all my meetings in America, the one in Chicago had to be the strangest.

MARK: Okay, the suspense is killing me.

THE BRIGADIER: So I was eating at a truck stop on the south side of Chicago. You know just to grab a bite before hitting the road again. A lot of interesting characters were coming through there for lunch, but one particular fellow really caught my eye. He was this very tall, thin Texan with cowboy boots and white hat – what is it called? A ten-gallon hat? And he has a very distinctive mustache curling up at the ends, like some of the Panjabis wear. A real striking guy, you know. Anyway, I decide to try and capture some video of him and he starts to stare at me and really get nervous. You see Mark, I have long had the ability to size a man up very quickly and I could tell this chap was just shaking in his boots. Something just wasn't right with him.

MARK: You mean other than the fact that some stranger is video taping him? I would freak out too if you just started filming me. You're an intimidating looking hombre.

THE BRIGADIER: [Chuckling.] What, me? I hope not. Well at least not too much. Anyway this Texan certainly thought so. He was looking so terrified I felt I just had to go over and try and talk to him. When I told him I was a tourist from Pakistan he really settled down. You see, I was wearing a shirt that a friend in the LA police department had given me that had SWAT written on it. The reason I had asked for this shirt was that my family owns a lot of land in Swat here in Pakistan. But this guy had actually thought I was a policeman and was going to bust him or put him on America's Most Wanted.

MARK: There's a place called Swat?

THE BRIGADIER: It's a very popular place actually – a sort of hill station. But the story gets better. The Texan fellow starts to get comfortable with me and tells me he is coming from California in a large camper van, but he's not sure where he is going to go next. Turns out I had just talked to my friend a few days earlier who is a director in LA. He mentioned to me that his camper had been stolen, so we might have to postpone our hiking outing that we had planned. It doesn't take me long to figure out that I'm having lunch with the thief of my friend's vehicle.

MARK: Wait, you have to be kidding me. You're saying the Texan guy stole your friend's camper in LA and drove it to Chicago and you just happen to meet him in some greasy spoon?

THE BRIGADIER: Only because he thinks I am a policeman! It keeps getting better though. I am able to talk him into heading back to California and taking me along – I end up leaving my rental car at the airport in Chicago. So over the next several days I take turns driving with the Texan and we drive the camper the two thousand miles back to Los Angeles on Route 66. It is two thousand right?

MARK: Something pretty close to that. So the Texan guy doesn't know all this time that it's your friend he stole the camper from?

THE BRIGADIER: No, I figured first I would just get him headed back in the right direction, then I'd worry about the details. I had all those miles to try and convince him to give the camper up and find some lawful means of making money.

MARK: So what happened when you got to Los Angeles?

THE BRIGADIER: I talked the fellow into handing the keys to the camper over to me and bought him a bus ticket for Texas. I drove up to my friend's place and his face just drops. We had a good laugh. I'm telling him I'm ready to go hiking and we end up going to Yosemite a few days later.

MARK: That is simply the craziest story I have ever heard. You just ask the Texan for the camper back? For quite a few years now I have been getting people I meet to share with me the weirdest story they've ever come across, but this just takes the cake.

THE BRIGADIER: But, I'll tell you Mark, I don't believe things happen by coincidence. Even my meeting with you. You know what's even more fun? We picked up Jesus hitchhiking outside of St. Louis and he came the rest of the way to Los Angeles with us.

MARK: Yeah? Jesus is a fairly popular name with Latin Americans.

THE BRIGADIER: But this was a white fellow and he really thought he was Jesus. He even interviewed the Texan and I for possible discipleships. Jesus didn't stop talking the whole way to California.

MARK: [Smiling.] He sounds like the real deal then. [Suddenly serious.] It's too bad this couldn't have all been captured on film.

THE BRIGADIER: I did! I shot over eighteen hours of video. I have it all the tapes in a box in my basement. I even have Jesus issuing the new Ten Commandments.

MARK: I wonder what Moses would have to say about that? That's just crazy. Have you ever considered having all this made into a documentary? It's such a natural.

THE BRIGADIER: I really haven't had the time. I'm busy twenty hours a day and sometimes more than that.

MARK: It would be a surefire Academy Award winner.

[The video screen shows Michael Moore introducing the award for Best Documentary Short. Clips from 'Two Thousand Miles to Los Angeles: The Brigadier, the Texan and Jesus.' are shown.]

THE BRIGADIER: You haven't had anything to eat yet today, sir. We have to let you sample some of the best fruit in the world. Let's stop here.

[THE BRIGADIER and MARK disembark at a very colorful road side fruit and flower stand which is wheeled onto stage left. The vendor is a very old man with red woolen cap.]

THE BRIGADIER: You must try a couple of oranges and an apple.

MARK: Sounds good. [Tries a slice of orange.] Oh, wow. It's really sweet.

THE BRIGADIER: Still even these are nothing compared to what comes from my orchards at Swat.

MARK: What all do you grow there?

THE BRIGADIER: There is no fruit on earth that we don't grow. Everything you can imagine. I tell you Mark, Swat is really heaven on earth. If you go there you won't ever want to leave.

MARK: Sounds good. When do we leave?

THE BRIGADIER: We have a little business to take care of with this earthquake thing and then we will most certainly go. You know Stephen Hawking was on my orchard for six months and I didn't think he would ever go back to London.

MARK: You mean the 'Brief History of Time' guy?

THE BRIGADIER: The very same. I'll tell you though, Mark, he is an extremely headstrong fellow. He absolutely loved the serenity of Swat – it took everything in my ability to convince to go back to his family. There really seems to be no correlation between intelligence and peace of mind.

MARK: Take me for example.

THE BRIGADIER: [Smiling.] Yes?

MARK: I'm a complete idiot, but I'm happy as a lark.

THE BRIGADIER: I rest my case.

MARK: I was just reading the other day how much Hawking despised the speech synthesizer that the Americans had made for him, because of its "bloody accent." It's funny because I never think of Americans having an accent, but clearly it's exactly proportional to the degree I detect accents in others. My French girlfriend always thought Americans sounded like robots [MARK in overly robotic voice] just like Hawking's synthesizer.

THE BRIGADIER: [Momentarily perplexed by MARK's attempt at hi-tech humor.] You do a pretty good robot. I've always rather liked the American way of talking. Not so much the accent, but the straight way people have of talking.

MARK: [Continuing in robot voice.] Thank you for the kind words. I have 20K hard disk space remaining and can speak seventeen percent Urdu. Must find oil. Must find oil.

THE BRIGADIER: [Smiling.] We have some doctors in the next village that can take a look at you. In fact, that reminds me I must buy some flowers for them.

[THE BRIGADIER buys some flower bouquets and bananas before he and MARK get back in the car and continue toward Muzaffarabad.]

MARK: So as a military man how do you feel about America's actions in the Middle East?

THE BRIGADIER: Well, I'll tell you sir. Four things. First, I think George Bush made a grave mistake in invading Afghanistan and I'll tell you why. In all of history no invading country has been able to last there. The British were thrown out, the Russians were forced out, and in a matter of time the Americans will be. Secondly, the American troops have not been trained well and their bad behavior is souring the perception muslims have of your country. I have heard of no army before that does not pay shopkeepers for their goods, but in talking to many of my friends in Afghanistan they said this happens time and time again with the American soldiers. Complete disdain for the people and if you aren't making friends on the ground you are asking for real trouble. Lastly, I think the American people are most wonderful, but they really have very little idea what the government is doing abroad in their name. And this is too bad, because I don't think they would approve. But I don't think the governments have any power these days. The world is largely being run by multinational corporations without reference to borders and profits are valued above all else. There is almost no sense of social responsibility.

MARK: And the fourth thing?

THE BRIGADIER: Fourth thing? No, that's it.

MARK: Even the idea of democracy seems to be a bit of a sham to me now. It was a real revelation for me to see what happened in the 2000 presidential election in the US. I guess I was pretty naive and probably still am. I mean, I always knew that political action committees had undue influence and politicians could be bought, but I didn't think vote counting could be so suspect. At least not in America. How do you feel about the government here?

THE BRIGADIER: I don't think anyone is rejoicing. But there is some amount of stability. The army knows how to run things smoothly – that's what they excel at. You know, keeping things orderly. But I try to avoid all things political these days and just focus on the things I can do. And I get a quite a lot done if I may say so myself sir. [Pats MARK's shoulder affectionately.]

MARK: You may, and I'm sure you do. I think it's sound policy to focus on what you, yourself, can do, rather than worry about what the government is or is not doing. I was obsessed for quite a time with the perceived injustices that were being meted out by the governments and corporations of the world. I was a pretty satisfied as an angry young man, until I realized that my anger itself, was either a part of the problem or the whole problem.

THE BRIGADIER: I've seen anger and self-righteousness devour men's lives. People just lose all perspective when they let their anger control them. I had a dear friend that lived not so far from Swat who left his farm for a couple of weeks to do some business in Karachi. When he came home his prize hunting dog was missing and he came to learn one of the hired men had hit it with a tractor and it had died. He was just overcome with anger and started searching for the man with the intention of flogging him, but the servant had gone into hiding. He called me for my advice and I told him flat out to let it go. I told him I would buy him two new dogs and have them sent immediately to his farm, but he should forget all about what had happened. You know, it was done and over with. It was an accident and nothing he was going to do would bring his dog back. You see, when you suffer a loss it is critical to focus on all that you do have rather than that thing which was lost. I warned him he was going to lose a lot more than just the dog if he continued to obsess about hunting this man down.

MARK: There's the proverb: For the want of a nail the war was lost.

THE BRIGADIER: Well, my friend's nail was venting his anger on the hired man. Eventually that servant's body turned up in an abandoned well and it didn't take long for the police to figure out who had killed him. My friend went to jail and lost the farm.
The hired man's family lives there now as part of the court decision. You see, Mark, I am capable of giving good advice and do so freely to anyone who should ask for it, but I am not troubled if they fail to follow it. Even I do not always follow my own advice – how can I hold it against someone if they choose to go their own way? When my friend called me from jail what could I possibly say to him? To this day I am the only one who visits him and sends cards. Once I am someone's friend there is no turning back.

MARK: True friendship – that's good stuff.

THE BRIGADIER: And, you sir, I consider a friend.

MARK: And vice versa. And your advice for me?

THE BRIGADIER: Mr. Mark, I would like to see you marry a very level-headed and beautiful Pakistani girl and open a number of schools for orphans in the mountains.

MARK: I will leave all the arrangements in your hands, sir.

THE BRIGADIER: Done. You have probably noticed that the Pathans have perfectly flawless skin. The women are very fair in complexion and blond hair is not uncommon. They say that God spent a whole extra day in creating the Pashtuns after noting the flaws in the other races. You can see the difference even between your skin and my own.

MARK: Of always been kind of partial to my corpse-like pallor. What about your wife? How did you meet her? Was it a love marriage?

THE BRIGADIER: Well, sir, she had been coming to my parent's house since we were children, so some of my earliest memories are of her. The marriage was decided early on, but she is the only girl I ever wanted to marry. So you might consider it an arranged love marriage. Her father is a very intimidating man, so I had to always be on my best behavior.

MARK: Your son was saying that her father is a chieftain in the North West Territory?

THE BRIGADIER: Yes, he comes from a long line of what you would call tribal warlords. Unfortunately, he is a very ruthless man and has probably killed well over one hundred men. Some for very trivial things.

MARK: He has actually killed men himself?

THE BRIGADIER: Yes, it's a sad thing. He is almost never without his sword. But you have to understand that it is a very different world than you are accustomed to. There is no law in the North West and these things happen – bodies are simply disposed of and forgotten. It's a very different life style.

MARK: And death style.

THE BRIGADIER: I imagine it's something like your wild West from years back. My father-in-law will treat his dogs better than the villagers that he gets cross with.

MARK: So is your wife at all like him?

THE BRIGADIER: No. She is very much her own woman. I really married the best, so there has never been any cause for second guessing. I have only one rule in my house which is not to oppose me in anything I do and she accepts this. You can join me, walk by my side or get behind me, but do not try to stand in front or you will be run over. I am stubborn that way, but it is one of the very few conditions I have put on my family. And now if you will direct your attention over here you will see we have arrived at the hospital where I had Fidel send the first team of Cuban doctors.

[Video shows entrance to parking lot through security booth.]

MARK: Fidel as in Castro?

THE BRIGADIER: Yes, he has been a good friend for some years. I really don't understand why your country insists on giving him such a hard time. After the earthquake I kindly requested him to send four teams of doctors and he immediately agreed – without hesitation. The first batch has arrived and I sent them here until I can get some more field hospitals established. So, with your permission, I want to check in with the Cubans and gift them each a bouquet of flowers. You see, Mark, I have real difficulty with the way the disaster relief has been managed here in Pakistan. Musharraf called me to a forum on the matter and the first thing I told them is that whenever volunteers are known to be coming to the country they should be greeted at the airport with a bouquet of flowers and driven to their hotel. Why should a volunteer have to struggle just to get settled? At the hotel they should be given a care package and a detailed dossier on the current situation in the field.

MARK: That's really a fantastic idea. Show people right from the get go that they are appreciated. When I was doing moving jobs in the States I remember how affected I was when a customer would tip my friend and I before the job even began. It demonstrated a trust and appreciation that we became motivated to live up to.

THE BRIGADIER: This is exactly the thing. If volunteers are treated with disdain the quality of their help will suffer accordingly, but treat them with real respect and they will work without end. We must show them up front that their contribution is invaluable. But I also am a firm believer in making sure people take breaks to enjoy themselves. I've seen too many suffer from burnout because they think they must do everything at once – you know, everything becomes an emergency. My first advice to everyone that comes to help is to relax. Then have a thorough look around. Really come to understand the situation. Make a flexible plan and only then act. And take breaks. Shall we? [THE BRIGADIER puts his hand on the car door handle preparing to exit.]

MARK: [Opening his door.] We shall. [THE BRIGADIER and MARK exit the car and gather up the half dozen bouquets from the back seat.]

THE BRIGADIER: How would you like to be introduced, Mr. Mark?

MARK: As a tenacious florist from the US.

THE BRIGADIER: [Laughing.] Done. I think we need a good localized name for you as well. Something with real flavor. Do you know what Hansaab means?

MARK: [Mistakingly thinking the name to be the Hindi equivalent of 'Yes, sir.'] Yes, sir?

THE BRIGADIER: [Misunderstanding MARK's reply to mean he understands the meaning and approves of it as a moniker.] Good, then Hansaab it shall be.

[THE BRIGADIER and MARK exit stage right. Lights dim on the Datsun and video shows THE BRIGADIER and MARK entering the hospital where they are greeted by a doctor from the UK.]

THE BRIGADIER: [Shaking the UK DOCTOR's hand.] It is a real pleasure to meet you sir. Allow me to introduce you to Hansaab, the Love Doctor from Delhi.

UK DOCTOR: [Looking a bit confused while shaking MARK's hand.] Nice to meet you.

THE BRIGADIER: If I may do so, Doctor, I would like to present you with this bouquet of flowers as a small symbol of a the great appreciation the citizens of Pakistan have for your selfless service. I would also like to humbly offer you my modest services should you need anything at all during your stay here.

UK DOCTOR: We are ready to take on new patients, so any you can send...

THE BRIGADIER: Excellent. We have a number of cases up in Muzaffarabad that we can't handle with our facilities at the hospital there. I will have them immediately referred here. The Cuban team is adjusting well here.

UK DOCTOR: Actually, we have all been learning from them. They are able to do the most advanced surgeries with what we thought was less than adequate instrumentation. They are real artists and have none of the attitude that most in my profession unfortunately acquire. It has been a great experience working alongside them.

THE BRIGADIER: I am most pleased to hear it.

UK DOCTOR: Let me show you around the facilities.

[The three enter a room with some twenty bed-ridden patients. A small girl limps over to MARK who crouches down to her level. Smiling, she places her badly misshapen foot in his hand. He massages it while returning her smile.]

MARK: [Turning to the UK Doctor.] Is there anything you can do for her?

UK DOCTOR: Unfortunately, she's had the club foot from birth. To correct it we would have to break the bones and perform multiple, painful surgeries. [MARK grimly continues to smile, strokes the girl on the head and returns her foot to the floor.] It looks like a couple of the Cubans have just got out of surgery. Come, I'll introduce you. [The UK DOCTOR leads THE BRIGADIER and MARK to the hallway where two Cuban doctors are removing their surgical masks.] Doctor Sanchez and Doctor Marquez this is the Brigadier and... and a therapist from Delhi.

THE BRIGADIER: [Motioning to to a bemused MARK.] He is the Love Doctor. His work with children is known throughout India and America and he has come to Pakistan to educate us in the ways of love. If you get the chance you must sit down with him and share notes. Hopefully there are no women in your group or they most certainly will fall hopelessly in love with Hansaab and be most tempted to leave their husbands to spend time with him. [The Cuban doctors look as bewildered as the UK DOCTOR, but shake hands with MARK while studying him intently.] On behalf of myself and the many patients who have benefitted from your considerable expertise in the medical sciences, I would like to offer you each a bouquet of freshly cut Pakistani flowers. [The doctors modestly accept the token of appreciation.] And now I must beg leave of you as the Love Doctor has requested a tour of our operation in Muzaffarabad and we still have other stops to make.

[THE BRIGADIER and MARK are shown exiting the hospital where the doctors see them off. They enter stage right and reassume their positions in the Datsun. The video shows the hospital receding in the distance before they turn back onto the road for Muzaffarabad.]

MARK: [Laughing.] The Love Doctor from Delhi?

THE BRIGADIER: Hansaab, I must tell you life can get very dull when you are engaged in endless organizational meetings. You must find whatever ways you can to spice things up. Like yourself, I like to have fun. Taking things too seriously can really make matters burdensome.

MARK: I entirely agree. Speaking of Delhi, what about relations with India? What do you see happening in the future? I was really surprised when my friend and I began our friendship letter writing campaign in India and so many students there expressed interest in having the countries merge. I wasn't even aware that the sentiment existed.

THE BRIGADIER: [Furrowing his brow with concentration.] Three things. Number one, there really is no India even today. The British drew lines in the sand, but they had no historical or cultural relevance. They tried to make one country out of what was a number of very distinct princely states. Even now you have Panjabis wanting their own country, Kashmiris wanting their own country, and the states in the northeast wanting autonomy. So there really is no unifying idea of what India is. Number two, we could never agree to join with India because there is so much bad blood between the countries. They interfered in East Pakistan and even now they are meddling in Baluchistan. So there is a considerable trust deficit.

MARK: Ah, yes. The paradoxical two-way trust deficit. I think the enmity was there with the generation that went through partition and perhaps even their children, but the kids today genuinely seem to want bygones be bygones and to make a fresh start. There are so many cultural ties between the two countries.

THE BRIGADIER: Well, that's true of Pakistan east of the Indus river – Lahore especially. The western half really has nothing in common with India and draws its inspiration from Afghanistan. It's all Pathans and Pashtuns like myself. We really don't mix well at all with the Indians. To be quite frank with you, I find the people over there to be kind of scrawny characters – rather shiftless and not very healthy. I remember when I was posted at the border we used to look over at the Indian troops with our binoculars and feel sorry for them. They looked to be a sad lot.

MARK: Still you gotta love the scrawny buggers. I'm one myself.

THE BRIGADIER: [Laughing.] Sir, we will amend your weight on some real Pakistani mountain food.

MARK: That's what I'm afraid of. There will be nothing left of me to send back to India.

THE BRIGADIER: So tell me exactly what you were doing over in India. How did you find them?

MARK: What? You haven't read up on the Love Doctor? You really have to attend one of my seminars. No, seriously I love the country and its people, its diversity. The hospitality is world class, much like I'm finding it to be here. I think it must be a South Asian thing. People with next to nothing will offer everything just for the pleasure of having you dine or stay with them. It's very instructive for an American. I think India's spiritual tradition is unmatched. But I came to India a year back with some friends to try some experiments in service and to meet inspirational people along the way. It's been a really interesting time and I have no regrets. I love working with the children especially. Just a single smile from one can recharge my batteries when I feel like I am starting to wear out.

THE BRIGADIER: Children can have that effect. You will have plenty of them to tend to in Muzaffarabad.

MARK: I would love to get some schools set back up in the mountains. Most recently I was in Delhi working with a group of doctors on starting an NGO for street and slum children. As frustrating as India can be, I think I will always be in love with the place.

THE BRIGADIER: Even so, and in spite of my introductions at the hospital, I must recommend that you never let anyone here know where you are coming from. Both India and America do not sit well with a few people here and the army in particular may become suspicious of your motives in Kashmir.

[The video screen shows fast cutting clips of a wide variety of Pakistanis asking MARK where he is from. He answers 'America', 'India', or 'I'm coming from India, but I'm originally from America.']

MARK: So what's the next stop?

THE BRIGADIER: Before Muzaffarabad I would like to stop briefly at the Boy Scout Cadet College in Badrasi. It's the only one of its kind and was damaged considerably in the earthquake. As a former scout I am keenly interested in helping them rebuild.

[THE BRIGADIER slows the car to a stop as he peers intently ahead. Behind the audience hundreds of children dressed in goat costumes begin to file into the theater until the aisles are dense with kids. They work their way up onto the stage and throng the car before exiting stage left and right. Occasional bleating is heard. A lone shepherd tends the flock with a smooth wooden walking stick.]

MARK: I didn't realize the Boy Scouts were in Pakistan too. It was started in the United States, right?

THE BRIGADIER: In Britain by Sir Robert Baden-Powell. I still have my manual and merit badges at home.

MARK: I guess maybe it was the Girl Scouts that was founded in the United States.

THE BRIGADIER: [Laughing heartily.] That, my dear Hansaab, is something only the Love Doctor would know.

[Curtains close as the last of the children clears the threshold.]

INTERMISSION

ACT 2

[THE BRIGADIER and MARK sit with the director of the Boy Scout Cadet College on wooden chairs in front of the Datsun and a collection of neatly arrayed tents. Boy scouts enter and exit the stage engaged in various cleaning chores. The video screen shows towering pine trees and patches of brilliantly-colored mountain flowers.]

THE BRIGADIER: [To the director.] Sir, I would like to request of you one copy of the Boy Scout manual for my friend Hansaab, the Love Doctor. He is very intent on introducing Lord Baden-Powell's mental, moral and physical development teachings into his lectures.

BSCC DIRECTOR: Oh, really? That is nice to hear. [Motions a light-brown-haired, blue-eyed, scout over and gives him inaudible instructions. Scout exits stage left. BSCC DIRECTOR turns to MARK.] So where are you from?

MARK: I am from America, but I came to Pakistan from India. [THE BRIGADIER noticeably cringes. MARK motions toward the departing scout.] So you have Britishers going to school here?

BSCC DIRECTOR: [Laughing.] Oh, no. We are all Kashmiris here. I think everyone that comes here for the first time gets that shock.

MARK: He really looks more American than I do.

BSCC DIRECTOR: So you are a doctor?

MARK: I'm not a doctor, but am looking for any way I can help out with earthquake relief.

BSCC DIRECTOR: [Confusedly to THE BRIGADIER] But you said something about a Love Doctor...

THE BRIGADIER: Hansaab is notoriously reticent about his professional qualifications. The Love Doctor has administered his special brand of medicine to children living in the slums and on the streets of India and now plans to start a number of schools here for the children. I think you must have seen some of the stories of his exploits on television?

BSCC DIRECTOR: I actually haven't had a chance to see any television for quite some time.

THE BRIGADIER: [Winking to MARK.] But certainly you will have seen his picture in the newspapers.

BSCC DIRECTOR: I'm afraid I have not, but then I must confess I don't see the newspaper often here either. [The scout returns and whispers something to the BSCC DIRECTOR, before handing him two blue scarves with gold-colored fasteners, a a copy of the Boy Scout manual.] I have to apologize that we don't have any extra Boy Scout manuals in our library right now, but you may have a look at my copy while you are here. [Hands the Boy Scout manual to MARK.] And I would like to present you both with our official scarves.

THE BRIGADIER: [With grandiose solemnity.] Hansaab, sir, today you join the storied ranks of the Boy Scouts. [THE BRIGADIER lifts his chin while the BSCC DIRECTOR fastens the scarf around his neck, and then, in turn, does the same for MARK. The effect on their appearance is quite comical as they appear as two grotesquely oversized children. MARK begins to leaf through the manual while THE BRIGADIER converses with the BSCC DIRECTOR.] So, how have you been holding up since the earthquake?

BSCC DIRECTOR: We were shaken up pretty good. Two of the older buildings had the roofs cave in, but, thanks be to Allah, the scouts were all outside at the time. We can no longer use the dormitories, so all the boys have had to stay in their tents for the past month. But that's what scouts are good at, right? We've also had the opportunity to do some relief work with the local villages.

[A page from the manual stating that every scout should do one good turn per day is projected on the video screen.]

THE BRIGADIER: With your blessing sir, I would like to offer the services of the Global Disaster Relief Agency to rebuild the Scout College and also construct a new masjid on the grounds. Inshallah.

BSCC DIRECTOR: We would welcome any aid you can provide.

THE BRIGADIER: I am proposing to take on the entire project of rehabilitation of your campus. I'm not sure if I told you last time we visited, but I am also planning to start the world's first university of disaster-management studies. We have seen the same mistakes being made time and time again with each new disaster that strikes around the world. Just in the last year with the tsunami in the Indian Ocean, the hurricane in New Orleans and now the earthquake here, the need for organizational expertise has been clearly demonstrated. Mr. Hansaab, what do you think?

MARK: [Looking up from the Boy Scout manual.] It really sounds like a great idea. You know, it's kind of amazing to me that with all the high and low tech designs for shelters there are, that the best for each type of situation haven't been identified and stockpiled for emergency use. People are still arguing the merits of tents in Kashmir, and meanwhile people are sleeping outside on the rocks. I think a university specializing in disaster management is long overdue.

BSCC DIRECTOR: Even America with all of its technology seemed to have real trouble in responding to Hurricane Katrina. It would be very beneficial for good minds to sit down and study what has worked and what has gone wrong in the past.

THE BRIGADIER: So, it is decided then. We will rebuild your campus and also find a suitable location for the University of Disaster Management. And now, we must beg of you permission to be on our way as the Love Doctor has an important speech to give at my hospital in Muzaffarabad.

BSCC DIRECTOR: I won't keep you any longer, but I would like to request one picture of you and the Love Doctor with our troops.

[The boys are called from their chores and form a neat pyramid in front of the THE BRIGADIER, MARK and the BSCC DIRECTOR. Three of the boys are indistinguishable from 'All-American' youth, with blond or light-brown hair and blue or brown eyes. The pictures that are snapped appear on the video screen. MARK and THE BRIGADIER shake hands with the troops before getting back in the Datsun and pulling away from the campus. The tents and troops are moved off the stage toward the back, right and left. Video screen shows them waving goodbye.]

THE BRIGADIER: [Shaking his head with disbelief.] There is simply no excuse for the world's only scout cadet college not to have extra copies of the Boy Scout manual. Really quite pathetic, don't you think? I mean it carries the whole essence of the Boy Scout philosophy and they don't have one available for guests. People really don't take pride in their work these days and that's just tragic.

MARK: I was amused that you asked for a manual on my behalf. I've always wanted one and just never got around to tracking a copy down. I was looking at the page that said a scout should attempt to do at least one good turn a day exactly when you offered to help rebuild the college. It seems you continue to be an exemplary scout. Now I feel challenged to find my good turn to do.

THE BRIGADIER: I'm sure you will find no shortage of opportunity where we are headed.

MARK: You know, it's interesting, because as the year has gone on I'm becoming more and more convinced that you really don't have to go looking for opportunities to serve. That chance is always right in front of you wherever you are. The trick is developing the capacity to remain open to what's happening in the moment and recognizing the highest possibility for action in that context. If your mind is on the NGO you are building down the street you end up walking past the child at your feet.

THE BRIGADIER: And if you find no child at your feet?

MARK: Right. Then you can work at fine tuning your awareness such that you aren't unnecessarily stepping on the ants. Or you start picking up the bits of litter you come across. Or in the absence of ants and litter you start looking metaphorically for these things in yourself. The highest service you can offer the world is your own serenity. The latticework of vibratory energy that connects us with all manifestation starts to be infected with our quietude. You start rapping like Amitabh Bachchan during the closing credits in Bunty Aur Bubli.

THE BRIGADIER: Sir, I was following your line of reasoning until that last bit when you lost me with the movie reference. I almost never have time to sit in front of the television.

MARK: Amitabh lip-syncs the words to the title song from the movie. He is no longer the angry young man of his earlier films or even the dignified patriarch he has played in his more recent career. He is a rapping detective, singing the praises of his elusive prey – Bunty Aur Bubli. It really doesn't make a lot of sense, but Amitabh throws himself into the song and so it works. It's not Shakesphere, but it flows because he has aligned himself the character. I think we have a strong tendency to look for our Shakesperian moments, and in doing that we lose sight of the potential of the right here and now. Ironically, I think we are always in the right place at the right time. It's just our attitude that can be wrong. You know, the idea that I deserve better than the conditions I find myself in. Look for the silver lining instead and you can go solid gold.

THE BRIGADIER: It sounds like the Love Doctor will pen a metaphysical addendum to the Boy Scout manual someday.

MARK: [Mirthfully.] Or at least to the advice section of Cosmopolitan. You know when I first heard about you last night I was expecting a very pompous, overblown character. When I saw the very calm and sometimes humorous approach you took, I realized that this is where you had earned your reputation and not from some self-aggrandizing horn blowing. You basically took the material that had been given to you and started rapping.

[Video plays of THE BRIGADIER coming to Farhan's office and rapping about earthquake relief, the sidelined truck drivers, etc. The tune is stolen from Bunty Aur Bubli.]

THE BRIGADIER: I didn't realize I was rapping. But it's interesting you should say what you did because I have long had this notion of tension-free living.

MARK: Something you read in a book?

THE BRIGADIER: No, it's a philosophy for living that I have pieced together over the years.

MARK: Oh, this is great. This is the kind of stuff I love to hear about. So what are the tenets of tension-free living?

THE BRIGADIER: Well, four things, Hansaab.

MARK: Is it really four or just three?

THE BRIGADIER: Why?

MARK: No, nothing. I was just kidding. Go ahead.

THE BRIGADIER: Well, the first thing is not to take yourself too seriously. This causes a lot more harm than people realize. We can spend inordinate amounts of energy projecting and protecting an image of ourselves for others. This energy can and should be used toward other tasks.

MARK: [Deadpan.] I feel like your belittling me.

THE BRIGADIER: What? Why? I didn't mean to...

MARK: [Slapping THE BRIGADIER on the shoulder.] No, I'm just being a goof ball. Please continue, this is good stuff.

THE BRIGADIER: Okay, the second thing, sir, is to let go of worry. If you are confronted with a problem, first just take all the parameters into consideration. Assess the situation from as many angles as possible. Try to exercise your creativity in every way you can to address the issue. Then act or just let it go. No worries. Things will happen or they will not regardless of your worrying about them. Try instead to develop a fearlessness in approaching whatever may come down the road to greet you.

MARK: Now you're scaring me.

THE BRIGADIER: [Concerned.] Why? [Smiling.] Oh, now I get it. I think your devilishness is matched only by my own, Mr. Hansaab. Lastly, for real tension free living we must give freely of our time and possessions to help those who are less fortunate. Have enough to be reasonably comfortable and then look to aid others with whatever excess comes your way. This is the real key to happiness. You know I could have used my money to buy a new car, but this Datsun is perfectly adequate for travel. Now I'm paid back daily by seeing the people treated at the hospital I invested in instead. You see, life becomes very suffocating when we spend too much time catering to our selfish desires.

MARK: You are sounding like a dyed-in-the-wool Sufi, my friend. But that really is only three things, and you said there are four components to tension-free living.

THE BRIGADIER: No that's four.

MARK: No, there was, was, what? First, not to take things too seriously. Second, not to worry. Third, to give away as much as possible. That's three. I would hate to think I was missing the fourth key to tension-free living.

THE BRIGADIER: Well, the fourth thing... [Thinking, then breaking into a grin.] The fourth thing is not to keep an accounting of everything. Stop counting.

MARK: [Laughing.] Damn. I can feel the tension rising. One, two, three...

THE BRIGADIER: Now I remember, sir. The fourth thing is actually to practice the art of forgiveness. You know my friend I told you about who killed a man for the death of his dog? He carried so much tension and still does because to this day he has not been able to forgive. I mean he killed the man and still can't forgive him. His death didn't release him from his anger and grief. If anything it solidified it. Forgiveness should be taught at home, in schools and on the streets from young age to old age and all hours of the day. Letting something go is a real art, one that I have still yet to master, but I am becoming more proficient at in bits and pieces.

MARK: Any personal anecdotes?

THE BRIGADIER: Well, for a time I was appointed to the most powerful position in all of Pakistan – the head of the Anti-Corruption Office. I was given power to indict any official in the entire country and I sat down and made a list of several hundred people I knew had been engaged in wrongdoing. You see, Hansaab, I had been involved with so many people in the military and government over my career that the President knew I had unmatched knowledge of who was involved in what. But you know what I did next, before submitting the list? I called every single person on it to let them know what was coming. Many were long time friends, but I just phoned them and said you know what you have done is wrong and a price has to be paid.

MARK: How did they react?

THE BRIGADIER: Of course some were very indignant and others were very upset with me personally – at least initially. But they knew that I knew what they had done. They couldn't deny it to me, because I had been there on the inside. But the key thing I let them all know is that I myself had forgiven each and every one of them and held no grudges. To me they were still friends. I even invited Benazir Bhutto to my house for dinner after sending the list in with her name on it. That thing forgiveness has amazing transformative power. Immediately after making the list and submitting it I resigned my post and shut down the office. It existed for all of seven hours and did more to transform the government than the previous thirty years of effort.

MARK: Tension-free living.

THE BRIGADIER: [Grinning affectionately.] I really feel that the people we meet is orchestrated by a higher power.

MARK: Or a least by mid-level bureaucratic jinns.

THE BRIGADIER: You know, sir, I haven't enjoyed traveling with anybody this much since I met my friend David in America. We made just an unlikely pair as the two of us. He was a marine that had fallen on hard times after the Gulf War and I ended up spending a number of weeks on the road in the Midwest with him. He was what you would call... what do you call people that live in trailer parks?

MARK: You mean white trash?

THE BRIGADIER: That's it. I just find that expression to be the funniest thing. I like to mix with the widest possible range of people to get as many different perspectives on life. David and I became quite close and he even took me to visit his father who had left the family when David was just two or three years old. His father was living out of a rusted pickup truck in the backwoods of Indiana. He had set up some sort of liquor distilling vat there and was drunk all the time. I'm there in a three-piece suit, David's in oily jeans and a ripped tee-shirt and his father is just in boxers. Really a ridiculous group.

MARK: Being comfortable with all manner of people is a great asset I think.

THE BRIGADIER: Let me tell you, Hansaab. A month after I had met David I am staying at the Beverly Hills Hotel as a guest of the Leadership Council. David calls and says he is in town with his mother and wants me to meet her. What can I say? He comes over to the hotel dressed as usual in rather scrubby clothes and his mother is in some awful miniskirt and tank top. They meet me in the lobby just as the head of the Leadership Council recognizes me and comes over. We get on the elevator together and this guy just can't stop looking between David, his mother and myself. You can just see him thinking how did these characters ever come together. Later David and his mother are sitting in my room and smoking some hashish, or what is it they smoke in America?

MARK: Marijuana?

THE BRIGADIER: Yes, or you call it pot, isn't it? And so my room completely fills with this smoke and I have dignitaries visiting with me there and wondering if I had been getting high. But David was my friend and I really value that. He and his mother even ended up spending an extra day with me. You have ex-presidents and current world leaders staying in that hotel for the conference and then these scrubby folk.

MARK: It really sounds like the makings of another documentary.

THE BRIGADIER: Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera with me at that time.

MARK: You have so many great stories, are you writing them all down somewhere? You should really be penning your memoirs. What about your experiences in the army? Your son was telling me you earned quite a reputation there.

THE BRIGADIER: Well, not always for the smartest of things. But I have been talking too long, Hansaab, and I am most eager to hear your stories.

MARK: You can't leave me hanging. At least share one story from your time in the army.

THE BRIGADIER: Well, okay. There is one incident was literally pounded into my memory. Every Friday the troops would gather from the different regiments and nominees would be put in the ring to battle for top boxer honors. I was always my company's selection as I was quite a bit bigger than everyone else and had especially large hands. Well, for a few months I was winning these bouts pretty easily and one of the superior officers didn't care to see this continue. So after I had had three fights one Friday he orders that I stay in the ring and then calls this Panjabi into the ring that I had never seen before. He was at least as big as I was and just solid muscle through and through. A real tough guy. We stand across from one another and just start knocking each others brains out. [The video screen shows Rock'm Sock'm toy robots superimposed over the receding mountain road. The robots methodically alternate punches.] I was seeing so many stars, but just willed myself to stay conscious. [Stars circle the head of one robot.]

MARK: You had had boxing training?

THE BRIGADIER: No, we really had no sophistication at all. We would just stand perfectly opposite from whomever we were fighting and exchange blows. It was considered cowardly to try to block or dodge a punch. We had never heard of Muhammed Ali, or George Frasier, and there was absolutely no artistry to what we were doing. You hit me. I try to hit you harder.

MARK: So what happened with the Panjabi?

THE BRIGADIER: Well, losing really wasn't even an option, because more than my company, I felt like I was representing the Pathans, and it would bring dishonor to be knocked out. I was fully prepared to die, but under no conditions could I allow myself to fall unconscious and it was only that determination that kept me upright. But punching this fellow was like hitting a brick wall and his fist felt like a battering ram. Anyway he decided to alternate working my midsection with my head, while I just focused on pounding him in the face. Really brutal, primitive stuff. Eventually the blood flowing from his nose was coming so fast that it cut off the oxygen to his mouth too and he went down to the canvas choking. [One robot head pops up on the video screen signaling a knockout. The superimposed robots fade from view.] For a week after that fight I could only eat soup because my jaw hurt so bad. To this day I am not particularly keen on facing off with another Panjabi.

MARK: [Pointing forward.] Do you see that man by the side of the road?

THE BRIGADIER: You think we should pick him up?

MARK: Could we? With your track record it would probably be good for a story. Let's do it. [A neat and trim man of maybe forty-five years enter stage right and motions at the car as the road on the video screen stops moving. THE BRIGADIER leans out the driver's side window and motions for the stranger to sit in the back. The new passenger is extremely grateful and continues to smile for the duration of his appearance in the play. THE BRIGADIER and he talk in Urdu for half a minute.]

THE BRIGADIER: He's also traveling to Muzaffarabad and would like to offer you an orange from his package. Apparently you remind him of his son.

MARK: His son must be a good-looking brute. I'd love an orange. [THE BRIGADIER takes two oranges from the man and hands them to MARK who begins peeling them.]

THE BRIGADIER: [Pointing to the road ahead.] Shall we, Hansaab?

MARK: We shall, sir.

[Video screen shows the road starting to recede again. The effect of sunlight being filtered by the branches and leaves of overhanging trees is simulated by stage lights on the Datsun. 'Road Trippin' by The Red Hot Chili Peppers plays with the lyric 'USA' replaced with 'Pakistan.' THE BRIGADIER, MARK and the new man continue to talk, eat oranges and share laughs while the song plays to completion. The car stops again and all disembark. The man shakes hands with THE BRIGADIER and MARK and walks off stage left. He appears on the video screen where he pats two young mountain girls on their heads and offers them a few rupees. He turns once to wave goodbye, before walking completely out of sight.]

THE BRIGADIER: [Still standing outside the car.] That was quite a gentleman. He has offered for you to stay in his tent and have dinner if you should choose to do so tonight. He lost his entire family in the earthquake – his wife and six children. He had gone out to pick up an order for his shop when the quake struck and it brought down his building crushing everyone inside. Now he's helping others keep their spirits up.

MARK: [Overwhelmed.] Hmmm.

THE BRIGADIER: If you look here, sir, you will see quite clearly the awesome power of the earthquake.

[Video screen sweeps 180 degrees to show a wide-expanse of a mountain range. One-half the width has been completely sheered away exposing chalky white rock.]

MARK: Oh, my gosh.

THE BRIGADIER: You are seeing only a small fraction of its impact. This goes on for over one hundred kilometers.

MARK: It's mind boggling.

THE BRIGADIER: In the valley below is Muzaffarabad.

[The video screen sweeps 180 degrees again to show a bus filled with children passing. MARK waves enthusiastically, causing the children to erupt in laughter.]

THE BRIGADIER: Hansaab, you have a real gift with the young ones, but I must recommend that you never interact directly with the girls because of the sensitivities many have here. Certainly you must never touch any female.

[The video screen shows fast cutting clips of Mark interacting directly with girls and boys in a number of situations – shaking hands, demonstrating hand games, dancing and so forth. It culminates with him running down an embankment with three young girls on his back screaming with delight.]

THE BRIGADIER: [Getting back in the car along with MARK.] Next stop is the hospital just down the road.

MARK: I'm ready if you are.

[The video screen shows an increasing number of cracked buildings and activity along the road leading to the city. The car passes trucks carrying rubble, medical vans, army vehicles, and numerous UN utility vehicles.]

THE BRIGADIER: [Disgustedly.] No organization in the world does less with more money than the UN. These guys have been driving around in their fancy trucks for the past five weeks doing absolutely nothing. Just abominable. My eldest son has just been promoted to overseeing UN development programs for South Asia, but it hasn't done anything to change my opinion. The UN is world-class corruption.

MARK: [Pointing out the window.] Could we stop here for just a bit so I could help load rubble?

THE BRIGADIER: Hansaab, I realize that you enjoy jumping in wherever you go, but there are some who's skills are best fit for this type of labor and your skill set is needed at the hospital.

MARK: [Crestfallen.] Thik hai, sir.

[The buildings visible by the side of the road now are virtually all badly damaged or completely flattened. The car pulls up to the hospital which is revealed in another 180 degree pan by the video screen camera. It occupies the first three-floors of a four-star hotel that had been under construction when the quake struck and was largely spared of any damage.]

THE BRIGADIER: Well, Hansaab, we have arrived. I would suggest you do what the Love Doctor does best and interact with the patients while assessing the situation around the hospital. We can meet back up later in the night and you can brief me on your findings at 2400 hours.

[MARK exits stage left and reappears entering the hospital on the video screen. An extended version of the New Radical's 'You Only Get What Your Give' plays. The camera follows as he tours the building and adjacent tent camps providing shelter to displaced locals. Reaction is initially cool, but thaws as a growing number of kids fall in line behind the stranger in the funny clothes with the funky walk. The crowd of children swells and Western doctors can be seen in the background marveling at the growing spectacle. MARK eventually enters the hospital's ward by himself and the occupants of the cots look on in wide-eyed terror as he demonstrates the removal of his thumb. A wiggling walk and b-boy snake of his arms puts them somewhat at ease and some on the verge of smiling. Finally a poorly enacted 'mime in a box' routine triggers laughter the whole way round. He takes up a seat on a double amputee's cot and attempts to make conversation in Urdu with the young boy. 'You Only Get What Your Give' momentarily fades.]

MARK: Mera naam Mark hai. Tumhara naam kya hai?

OFFSCREEN VOICE: His name is Tariq. He had to have his lower arms removed because they had become infected.

MARK: Kitne bhai behen tumhare hai?

OFFSCREEN VOICE: He lost his two brothers and three sisters in the earthquake.

MARK: [Shocked.] Oh. Tumhare mata-pita-ji kahan hai?

OFFSCREEN VOICE: They were killed too. He is all alone.

MARK: [Further shocked both by the scope of the loss and the inappropriateness of his questions.] Oh. [Recovers.] But he isn't alone. We all are here isn't it? [MARK pinches the boy's cheeks, pokes him in the belly and pops his fingers against his cheeks. The boy's face breaks into a wide smile matched only by MARK's own.]

['You Only Get What Your Give' fades in again and plays to completion. MARK is shown in a time-lapsed sequence sitting by the river that cuts through Muzaffarabad as twilight turns to night and the stars appear overhead. The myriad lights of dwellings on the mountain sides create the impression of a complete sphere of stars surrounding MARK who appears suspended in space. Camera revolves around his position while stage light is diffracted by a mirrored ball to sparkle on the stage and audience. The children dressed as goats spill onto stage, into the audience and out into the lobby creating a carpet unbroken movement throughout the theater.]

But when the night is falling
You cannot find a friend
You feel your tree is breaking
Just bend...

You've got the music in you
Don't let go
You've got the music in you
One dance left
This world is gonna pull through
Don't give up
You've got a reason to live
Can't forget
We only get what we give

This whole damn world can fall apart
You'll be ok
Follow your heart
You're in harms way
I'm right behind
Now say you're mine...

[In the lobby, a booth is set up offering THE BRIGADIER's 4-point tension-free living program. Each point is followed by an idea for implemented the advice in one's life including a listing of local hospitals and orphanages that welcome volunteers. Caricatures of THE BRIGADIER in scouting attire accompany the brochure.]