India Song

produced by Marguerite Duras
with Geoges Peyrou
Atelier de création radiophoniqe, France Culture, 1974


(Ed. note: I asked Kaye Mortley, who presented India Song to us on the first day of the conference, to explain why she'd chosen the piece to share. Thanks to Kaye and to Laurent Marceau of the the European Broadcasting Union for helping this excerpt arrive on the Third Coast site.)

"I first heard India Song light years ago, or so it seems (was it before I read the book, saw the film?) and it has stayed there, somewhere behind the eyes, as a perfect example of what radio can do when it decides what radio is: a space for standing still and watching the sound of the rain...."
- Kaye Mortley


Music: Piano

Marguerite Duras (MD):
India Song again, slow, far off.
At first we do not realize that something has started to move, from the very first note of
India Song.
It is the woman in black and the man sitting beside her.
They come to life.
Their footsteps are silent.
They stand up.
Move towards each other.
What are they doing?
They are dancing.
Dancing.
We only realize this after they have been dancing for some time.
They dance slowly.
Dance on and on.

Where are we?

The French embassy in India...

That rumble, is it the Ganges?

And that light?

The monsoon.

She died in Bengal...

Not a breath of wind.

So much dust...

The heart of Calcutta.

Can I smell flowers?

Leprosy.

On and on they dance.

At night they used to dance.

They melt into the dance, into each other, barely moving.
Then are still.

Why are you crying?

MD:
The music has stopped.
In the distance, the sound of a city.
Calcutta.
Then, other sounds.
They stand quite still in a circle of a silence drawn by sound.
Joined.
Still.
For a long time.

I love you beyond
seeing
hearing
dying

Music: Piano

MD:
India Song comes back, from afar.
Slowly the couple moves apart, comes to life.
As the sound of the outside world becomes louder, the sky clouds over in the garden.
A leaden sky.
No wind.

- They separate, turn to face the garden. They look out onto the garden, without moving.
The sound of Calcutta stops.
A time of waiting. More waiting. It is almost dark.
Suddenly the waiting stops.
The sound of rain.
Refreshing.
Cool.
Rain is falling on Bengal.
They all stand there, watching the sound of the rain.
Rain is falling on Bengal.
An ocean of rain ...