The Supper of 69

Myth
The Supper of 69

The myth, mythology, folklore, folktales whatever it is has reached us in this present age through various hands – the hands of white colonisers (inter-perspective) and the hands of comprador class (intra-perspective) which should be doubted by questioning overtly through wh-words to reveal the covertly lying authoritative mechanisms disguising the truth. This is a never-ending process and thirst of breaking each wall of these concentric encirclements is never going to be satisfied. A play by Sayan Das

A man and a woman are sitting at a distance apart both facing in the opposite directions.
Suddenly they stare back at each other and then scream, cry and laugh out loudly.

Man

[Approaching the woman – minutely invigilating her body]

Scream for crisis, cry for existence.

Woman

Laugh out loud – have explored multiples of trinity.

Man

[Slightly touches her and shockingly]

Ah! Smooth and soft. Silk and shine.

Woman
Dare to see the otherwise?

Man

No not really. But Ah! The difference.

Woman

Difference! Differance your highness.

[Gazing upward]

Sexually.

Man

High seems low to higher – then the legacy of ness and ends with a mess.

[A long silence]

[Both of them together pointing to each other] Captivated! Captivated! Captivated!

Woman

Birds are born to be embraced by the endless sky, not to scream for liberation within the cage. Hope a nation whose nationality does not get confined within the capital letter and full stop of a national anthem – then I would be thirsting for captivation .

Man

[Stares at her quietly and suddenly start clapping]

Well said. Where are you from/ nation?

Woman

Terra nullius, womb, breaking the barricade.

Man

Oh! Really! Can you please uphold your skirt and loose your inner – haven’t seen the ruptured border perforated to infiltrate from illusion to reality yet.

Woman

Shut up! Motherfucker – barricade broken by the paternal one and by the filial one have many betweens in between.
Man

Captivation rolls on itself since the selective mating.

Woman
And your conscientizacao?

Man

Dead in the face of bullets of baltagis- an artist’s death.

Woman

And where are you from?

Man

Deprived of land or maybe deprived of origin – terra nullius – an aboriginal or a nomad.

Woman

Unnaturally poetic. Poetic not in the sense of poetry but in the essence of mystery.

Man

Yes, sure mystery of womb.

Woman

Why is he dead? Blurred / distinct?

Man

Trapped in the eyes of spectators….Ask the audience?

Who am I to decide?

Woman

Mean eyes of society.

Man

Maybe declension of society. Can I fuck you!

Woman

Can’t you think ‘other ‘than a hole?

Man

I want to have a share of the secret.

Woman

Part of the whole or hole of the part?

Man

Macabre laughter – morbid explosion – broken bars of imprisonment.

Women

Liberation?

Man

Through Circumcision of a rendille woman.

Woman

[Both moving close towards each other in an irrevocable manner]

Commodification?

Man

Common- identification.

Woman

Demarcation.

Man

De market _ I _ nation.

Woman

[Hurriedly strips down his zip and grasps his sexual weapon and starts rubbing and squeezing it.]

Let’s take your body as an organic factory ….your organs are colonised labourers’ under your authoritative psyche, your big brother and are working for production of semen. The bayonet of sta[lin]tist gun is dictating the alteration of history[she lifts up her palm with the thick whiteness the causality of redness]the generations altered ………no connection with past…….language is power [newspeak6]……world bank dictating the land rights of third and fourth world……..language is power[newspeak9]…..movimento sem terra……..fight of zapitastas……fight under the shelter of tent embassy ……..struggle of the Maoris ……language is power[6– — 9].

Man

I am the first one born on the land.

Woman

I am the first other born on the land. Nothing like nation prevailed. From your rib I was born out of a man and I am a wo_? Man.

Man

I was the key.

Woman

And I the lock .The conflict began with fit – in.

Man

I craved a lot to have the o (fruit) in my grasp like your boobs. I was banished as an artist rather an instructor who would never know the secret of the hole but design the ways in which the keys would fit in the locks.

Women

I was excommunicated and sent in exile in the hellish brothel where gods came to enjoy gang rape and the white experiments on the blacks …..i was the naked model of the hymns of the racist preacher.

Man

I designed 69. I the revolt designed the reversal of power.

Woman

You are a theorist and I am a terrorist. You were doing it theoretically and I practically. The 6 and the 9.

Man

[holds her tightly in his arms and rests his head on the partition of her swollen breasts] Eve?

Woman

[Pressing his head tightly]

Adam I know surely you will count my heart beats , minutely examine the difference what makes me a producer and you a consumer , what makes in me stand in the naked lane and bargain your hol-y hunger …………but you know you will never find the difference – we are all meta structures …..Keep the hope Adam maybe tonight or some night else whatever it is, it is the conflict the dilemma of 69. Don’t forget I am the role model of the experiment.

[The halo cuts off].

The Beginning

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