A Monsoon in a Sari

Last summer I worked in Kolkata,India with my friend Abanti. She is a director and performer. We designed and produced "Mourning Becomes Electra". O'Neill in Bengali. It was monsoon season. Our car used to flood and I could feel the water surrounding my sneakers. One time she left me in the car and I put my feet on the seat and started to hum. Every morning she would play this loud Indian music. One song had a good beat and I thought it would fit a great fight scene in an urban,Bengali Romeo and Juliet. The other song sounded like a swan that needed to be shot in a dumpster. She knew I did not fancy the dead swan song. I usually popped some Radiohead or Coldplay into her computer. Moshe would show up to feed us each morning and move things in my room. She did not speak English. We had great conversations.Moshe use to laugh at the hoop skirts that I was sewing in my room for the play. She asked if I could take her to New York so she could be my servant. I told her if she came to New York I would be her servant. Abanti translated this and Moshe left the room. Abanti told me later that Moshe was moved by my suggestion. I never got sick in India. Sometimes people have bad stomaches. I was good. So Abanti may come to New York. I am working on a one-woman show for her about the use of Indian textiles in the Western fashion world. We might see the Lion King. Who knows ?