Act One: Scene Three
At home.
Zarina and Afzal. Arguing.
ZARINA: You did what?
AFZAL: It’s not that big a deal, behti.
ZARINA: How many times have you done this?
AFZAL: Twice.
(Beat)
Okay… more than twice.
ZARINA: How many times?
AFZAL: I’ve been doing it a couple of months.
ZARINA: How many guys have you met?
AFZAL: Five.
ZARINA: For the love of God!
AFZAL: Now wait a second. Just hear me out—
ZARINA (Underneath): I don’t believe this.
AFZAL:—He’s a good man. He’s intelligent. He’s someone who can understand you.
ZARINA: Do you have any idea how inappropriate this is?
AFZAL: A year from now, if you’re married to him, you’ll look back on this—
ZARINA: If we’re married? Dad. What are you talking about? Are you insane?
AFZAL: Just meet him.
ZARINA: No.
AFZAL: Please.
ZARINA: I am not having this discussion with you.
AFZAL: Zarina, behti. Listen to me. I met seven other young men—
ZARINA: So it was seven?
AFZAL:—all of them good-looking chaps, well employed, perfect son-in-laws…
ZARINA: Unbelievable.
AFZAL: I didn’t come to you—
ZARINA: You opened an account in my name.
AFZAL: I didn’t even try. Why not?
ZARINA (Continuing): You posted pictures. You wrote messages pretending to be me.
AFZAL:—Because I knew. They were not right. You could not be happy with any of them. None of them would ever understand you. This one’s different.
ZARINA: You’re a piece of work!
AFZAL: You should be impressed I pulled it off.
ZARINA: Dad!
AFZAL: Behti, meet him.
ZARINA: No!
Pause.
AFZAL: He says he knows you.
AFZAL: He says he met you before. At a talk at Georgia Tech. That black woman.
ZARINA: Ayaan Hirsi Ali.
AFZAL: Who should be shot, by the way.
ZARINA: Stop it, Dad.
AFZAL: What do you see in her?
ZARINA: We’re not getting into this.
AFZAL: You know she thinks Muslims should all convert to Christianity?
ZARINA: Well, I see her point.
AFZAL (Stunned): What point?
ZARINA: She’s just saying Christianity has been around longer than we have. It’s had more time to work out some of the kinks.
AFZAL (Snickering): Believing God can have a son is a sign of working out kinks?
ZARINA: I’m not talking about this with you—
AFZAL: You know what the Prophet said—
ZARINA: I know what the Prophet said—
AFZAL: Then why are you defending them?
ZARINA: Who?
AFZAL: Christians?
ZARINA: I’m not.
AFZAL (Sarcastic): Son of God. As if God could have a son.
ZARINA: Well, if he’s God he can do anything, right?
AFZAL: This is God we’re talking about. Not some guest on David Letterman.
ZARINA: So… random.
(Beat)
So this guy you met… He said he knew me from the Hirsi Ali talk?
AFZAL: He says you had a nice conversation.
ZARINA (Thinking): He’s not white, is he?
AFZAL: Yes.
ZARINA: Glasses?
AFZAL: That’s right.
ZARINA: What was his name again?
AFZAL: Eli.
ZARINA: Right. Eli.
(Beat)
He’s a convert—
AFZAL: Quite a tale. You know he runs a soup kitchen and a masjid on the Northside?
ZARINA: I remember now.
AFZAL: Making people’s lives better. He said he wanted to ask for your number, but he was too nervous. He was too impressed by you.
ZARINA: And what? He just saw me online?
AFZAL: Muslimlove.com. Your profile is amazing, behti. Your old father is not such a fool after all.
ZARINA: I never said you were a fool.
AFZAL: You don’t go from driving a cab—
ZARINA (Coming in, mimicking): To owning thirty percent of the taxis in Atlanta.
AFZAL: Don’t make fun of me.
ZARINA: I’m not.
AFZAL: You are.
(Beat)
All I care about is the two of you. Your happiness. Why do you think I’ve busted my butt out there for thirty-five years? To make sure the three of you were taken care of. There’s only two of you left. After that goddamn cancer took your mother.
ZARINA (Off Afzal’s sudden emotion): Dad, don’t.
AFZAL: The point is, at least you and your sister are taken care of. You and your future families. Many times over—
ZARINA: I know, Dad.
AFZAL: You wouldn’t have the freedom to be writing a book—
ZARINA: Dad. I know.
AFZAL:—and I encouraged it. When you got into Harvard, it was the proudest moment of my life. You wanted to study literature, philosophy? I encouraged it. You wanted to get an MFA in creative writing?
ZARINA: I know, I know…
AFZAL: You were the one who made me see that it’s important we don’t all become doctors and lawyers and whatnot. We need our own kind thinking about the bigger questions. But it takes money. Money, money, money. And it has to come from somewhere.
ZARINA: I know!
Beat.
AFZAL: You’re not happy. You think I don’t see that?
ZARINA: If I’m not happy it’s because I haven’t been able to write for months.
Pause.
AFZAL: Zarina. I’m sorry. I should not have stopped you and Ryan.
Forgive me.
ZARINA: I have.
AFZAL: No you haven’t.
Pause.
ZARINA: I didn’t have to listen to you.
AFZAL: That you did says something about who you are.
ZARINA: I don’t know that I like what it says.
AFZAL: I do.
Beat.
ZARINA: The kids were not going to be brought up Christian, Dad.
AFZAL: I know.
ZARINA: He’d agreed.
AFZAL: I know, behti.
Pause.
ZARINA (Emotional): I’m not sure I know what love is anymore, Dad.
Another pause.
AFZAL: Zarina…
Your mother, bless her soul—she was a saint…—I met that woman and the first thing I thought was, I don’t like her. I just don’t like her voice. I don’t like her nose. I don’t like her. But that didn’t matter. My father told me, That’s your wife, that’s the woman you’ll marry, and there it was.
ZARINA: What was wrong with her nose?
AFZAL: Nothing, behti. Nothing.
ZARINA: I have her nose.
AFZAL: I was an idiot.
You know what? I fell in love with that nose! It turned out to be the perfect shape.
My nose against her nose? A classic! And her voice?
That was the voice of my soul.
I grew to love it more than Mehdi Hassan’s.
ZARINA (Sarcastic): I’m sure Mom would be happy to hear that. “I loved you more than a has-been crooner…”
AFZAL: Mehdi Hassan was the bloody Frank Sinatra of Pakistan. He was not a has-been crooner…—I was too soft on you, Zarina.
ZARINA: Here we go.
AFZAL: You should have more respect for your old father—
ZARINA: Dad. I was kidding—
AFZAL: Here I am trying to tell you something important—
ZARINA: Okay, Dad.
AFZAL (Continuing): I’m trying to tell you what happened to me. Your mother was a gift, but I didn’t see it. For three years I didn’t see it!
Can you imagine that? Who would think you could wait three years in a marriage before finding love? Hmm? In this country? I fell in love. I am so in love. Here, when things start between two people, the water is already boiling. All it can do is cool off. Like your mother used to say, in the East, we start with a cold kettle, so it has room to heat up over the years.
(Beat)
You’re old enough to know, behti—we lacked for nothing in the bedroom.
ZARINA: Dad.
AFZAL: It was not an instant chemistry… but when we found our rhythm, we found our rhythm.
ZARINA: Dad.
AFZAL: Your mother was an adventurous woman.
ZARINA: I don’t need to…
AFZAL: I lacked for nothing.
ZARINA: I got it.
(Beat)
Why are you telling me this?
AFZAL: Context, Zarina. Context. I want you to understand the context of my choices.
If I made a mistake with you and Ryan it was because I had a different experience of love. My marriage was arranged. And it took time. Time. It was the only path to love I trusted.
(Beat)
Stop punishing yourself. Move on.
(Beat)
Meet the boy. Just meet him. If for no other reason, just to say to yourself: I. Am. Moving. On.
(Beat)
Meet him for your poor old father.
ZARINA: You’re not poor. And you’re not old.
AFZAL: For your lying and manipulative father.
Who only loves you. And who would gladly give his heart and his life for you to be happy.
Zarina considers him. Beat.