Malayalam Monoact Script <Chrome>

(Stands up, takes off his glasses, looks directly at the audience) ശരിക്കും പറഞ്ഞാൽ, We are all benches. Waiting for someone to sit. Waiting for someone to notice. Waiting for that one file to close. But nothing closes. Nothing moves. Except time. And time just filed a note: "Chandran, retired. Pending further action."

(He laughs. Then silence.) എനിക്കൊരു വിളംബരമുണ്ട്. (clears throat, stands straight) "I, Chandran, clerk, do hereby announce—I am shifting myself. From this desk. To life."

(Picks up a newspaper, reads aloud) "Man dies waiting for pension." (folds paper slowly) That could be me. But my headline would be smaller. Page 7. "Clerk expires between files. Bench remains unmoved." malayalam monoact script

(Suddenly, the phone rings. He picks it up.) "Hello... yes, speaking... WHAT? Exam? Which exam? Not again! I told them—I am fifty-three! I don't want any more departmental exams!" (slams phone down, then immediately picks it up again, dials) "Hello, Amma? ... Yes, I'm fine. No, not shouting. Just... the exam again. Hm? No, I don't want tea. I want a transfer. To the park bench. At least there, pigeons talk to me."

A slow, humid Monday afternoon. [Script begins] CHANDRAN (sitting, adjusting his glasses, staring at a file) "File number 124/23... Regarding the shifting of a bench from the east side of the veranda to the west side." (laughs dryly) ഇതിന് രണ്ടു വർഷമായി. Two years. This bench hasn't moved. But the file has travelled—section to section, table to table. Like a pilgrim. A bench pilgrim. (Stands up, takes off his glasses, looks directly

(Blackout.) Would you like a shorter version, a comedy version, or a female monologue adaptation of this?

(Gets up, walks to the front of the stage) I am Chandran. Fifty-three years. Twenty-nine years, seven months, and eleven days in this department. My only promotion: from 'bench-sitter' to 'bench-file-handler'. Waiting for that one file to close

(Sits back down. Opens a file. Reads.) "Action initiated. Pending further action." (closes file slowly) My autobiography. Same title.

(Long pause. Then, softly) But today... today something is different. I can feel it. Maybe it's the humidity. Maybe it's that dream I had last night—I was the bench. People sat on me. I didn't move. I didn't complain. I just... held them.

(He picks up the phone, dials, speaks in a monotone) "Sir, bench shift file... athu... yes. Waiting for your approval. Hm? Hm. Hm. Yes, sir." (keeps the phone down) He said, "Do the needful." What need? Whose need? The bench doesn't need to move. The bench is happy. I am not.