What follows is the result of an idea to connect the field of philosophy and thought with the world of drama. Let us choose sentences to ponder from the statements of the members of the philosophical group, which are archived in the “Chistiha Blog” (http://chistiha.blogfa.com); and after manipulating the concepts of those statements, and doing a brief exercise and editing, let us create a dramatic idea that will continue to form another dialogue, another concept, and another thought.
In the principles of drama writing, “ideation” and “drafting” have a specific method; but we tried to be one step before the idea and the plot. At the same stage of mental spark or, in our own words, the “study” stage, where the writer’s hand is open to writing down any image, concept, or point. Here, we have not limited ourselves to not mentioning the technical instructions, performance arrangements, dialogue, staging, and other matters, and left them for more detailed plans; on the contrary, we have completely written down whatever came to mind at the moment.
During our group meetings, we came to the conclusion that it was not necessary to obtain refined and precise plans from our conversations. It was only necessary to immediately edit and record everything that came to mind in an instant as a “study.”
And now we share the same with you. May these exercises and sketches be the beginning of a path to step on a bridge between philosophy and drama.
Ideas on the Bridge from Philosophy to Drama: Etude One Hundred and Fourteenth
Note: These sketches have been registered with the Islamic Culture and Guidance Department. And the intellectual property belongs to the author.
These sketches are only allowed to be republished on the “Chistiha” site.
Idea number one hundred and fourteen
Etude 114
Short film
A couple of rooms nested together, resembling the attic of an old, dilapidated house. Scattered cartons and unorganized items suggest a move and a new arrival in this place. Of course, there are nothing more than a few small, compact items that are the beginning of a simple, homely life. Here and there, folders and papers overflow from the cartons. Behind the window, a view of a village or a small town in one of the peripheral provinces. Perhaps the sloping roofs and gables of old, relatively abandoned houses. With a depressing atmosphere; perhaps cloudy weather and fine-grained rain.
Just a few meters away, across this narrow alley, is the wall of the courtyard of a boys’ elementary school. It is visible from both the kitchen window and the kitchen balcony. And occasionally, the sound of slogans from the students in line can be heard.
One of the cartons is placed on top of the other, and Sarah’s hands pull out the items inside from under the two yellow covers. Unfortunately, something like “breast milk” seems to have been spilled and ruined all these papers and they are all yellow.
Sarah runs some papers under the kitchen tap. It doesn’t make much difference. It just makes the paper wetter. These papers are all Khaled Fakuri’s promotions and encouragements. Khaled is Sarah’s husband. The phone rings. Sarah’s hands are sticky from the breast milk that has been spilled on the papers. So she taps the speaker chassis with the back of her hand. Khaled’s voice echoes in the room. He is saying how much work has not progressed since morning at the Department of Education. And how much he is still waiting and that Sarah should not be waiting for him so soon. And we learn that the couple has been transferred here from another city. And they arrived yesterday evening. And now it is the first day and Khaled has gone to the Department of Education to do his transfer work. He is an employee of the ministry. And he is supposed to continue in the same job. But apparently all the job ranks are filled and so he has to wait for the boss’s opinion. Who has not yet come to the office.
Sarah hangs up the phone and goes to the kitchen window to wash her hands. The yellow color of the breast milk is difficult to remove. There, her eyes fall on the schoolyard. The children have gone into their classrooms. But one child seems to have been punished and has to stay behind the classroom door in the yard. A small boy. His thin body is pitiful. Sarah herself is also slender and has a small face. And it seems that he suffers from extreme thinness.
Sarah gets to work. Everything in this kitchen, which is not really a kitchen, has to be fixed. She brings a picnic stove. And lights it with a match. She fills a kettle with water from the tap and puts it on top and gets busy with the cardboard boxes.
Circulars that have those yellow stains one after the other. She arranges these on the balcony. And puts a glass or mug on each one. The balcony of this room is maybe seventy centimeters by one and a half meters. That’s about it. Sarah looks at that child every time. Farash the schoolboy comes into the yard with a broom. He turns from the direction he intended to go and walks towards the boy. Sarah sees that the boy and Farash are having a conversation.
Sarah is busy cleaning up the circulars. Circulars that sometimes contradict each other. And we recognize the phrase “Can’t be applied retroactively.” Or the phrase “It can’t be applied retroactively.”
Anyway, there comes a moment when Sarah realizes while working that the schoolboy has left the yard door open with a special trick and gone. And the boy, at first with fear, shame, and hesitation, but then very suddenly with a special intelligence, comes to the yard door and looks both ways and runs away.
Sarah bursts into laughter at this scene. And it’s as if her heart has cooled down. Her face opens. She comes. The tea is brewing. A cup of tea and Sarah’s hands sitting on the floor on the papers and folders and staring at her cup with the remnants of that smile. And that’s it.
Author: B. Khosravani
It is recalled that any copying and extraction of these ideas, from an ethical and legal perspective, is only possible by mentioning the address, and use for performance will only be possible if the author’s written consent is obtained.