Chai
by Anoushka Sharma
Lights up in a Starbucks. Two girls walk in from differing directions, staggered and at their own pace, but still in similar time. Both are wrapped up in separate conversations: ZOYA is on facetime, and ADITI on a regular voice call.
ZOYA:
Ya, I’m here, do you want me to pick yours up?
ADITI:
Yes, the chem test is today.
ZOYA:
Wait, you said how many pumps of vanilla?
ADITI:
What do you mean you didn’t know, she told us last week.
ZOYA:
Four pumps is kind of a lot don’t you think?
ADITI:
Well, that’s your fault for not asking.
ZOYA:
Actually, I read an article that said too much vanilla in your coffee leads to cancer.
ADITI:
There is no way in hell she’s gonna move the test just for you.
ZOYA:
Okay, fine it was a tiktok, but still!
ADITI and ZOYA begin to talk over each other as they engage in arguments with their respective phone calls until…
ADITI and ZOYA:
Look I’m just trying to help you out, friend to friend. I don’t understand why you can’t just believe me!
Beat.
ADITI:
You know what, I have to go.
ZOYA:
Our drinks are ready, we'll talk later.
Both sigh in unison as they hang up their respective phone calls.
Neither of the girls' drinks are actually ready. They stand around awkwardly, smiling to passersby here and there, both separate and unsure of themselves. They end up standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder by the pick up counter. Neither one is aware of the other’s presence.
Lights change as both characters turn to speak to the audience.
ZOYA:
I’m not crazy, right? Four pumps is just unnecessary. But, hey, to each their own, I guess.
ADITI:
Personally, I would never forget about something as big as a test, but clearly people have their own priorities, am I right?
Beat.
ZOYA:
Oh, by the way, I’m Zoya, but don’t ever call me that– only my mom ever calls me that. Y’all can just call me Zoe like everyone else.
ADITI:
Aditi. (Beat). That’s my name– Aditi. No short form, no nicknames, I’m just… Aditi.
Lights return to their original state as the voice of a barista can be heard offstage.
V.O. OF BARISTA:
Two venti iced chai lattes.
ZOYA goes to grab her drinks. ADITI notices.
Beat.
ADITI:
Really?
ZOYA turns around
ZOYA:
Excuse me?
ADITI:
Iced chai latte… Really?
ZOYA:
Uh, is there a problem?
ADITI:
Oh no, well it's just…
ZOYA:
it's just…?
ADITI:
You know…
Beat.
ADITI:
Well, you ordered chai! from Starbucks! And you’re… we’re…
ZOYA:
We?
ADITI:
We’re brown!!
Beat.
ZOYA:
(unamused) We’re brown.
ADITI:
Yeah… I mean doesn’t it feel like… like a… betrayal??
ZOYA:
A betrayal?
ADITI:
Yeah! I mean don’t you feel a little, I don’t know, weird? Guilty, even?
ZOYA:
I’m sorry let me get this straight— ordering a chai from starbucks– while brown– is a betrayal…? May I ask who exactly I’m betraying here?
ADITI:
C’mon, you know this stuff isn’t chai, it's just… a bunch of sugar and ice. You’re just giving your money to an already rich corporation so that they can continue stealing your culture.
ZOYA:
I’m sorry, are you not also here giving your money to said corporation?
ADITI:
I mean… yeah. But you ordered a CHAI. That's just, like, salt in the wound or something.
Beat.
ZOYA:
Do I even know you?
ADITI:
Wait, you don't remember me? (Beat). Zoya, seriously?
ZOYA:
No I don’t…? and its Zoe.
ADITI:
Okay, Zoe. We’ve gone to school together since, what, Pre-K?
Beat.
ADITI:
We were lab partners? Freshman year?
ZOYA:
Not ringing a bell…
ADITI:
(matter of factly) You wanted to be my partner because you figured the only other brown girl in class would know how to do the lab, which I did but that’s besides the point because you then spilled chemicals all over your white top and told our teacher that I did it so that you wouldn’t get in trouble for not knowing the procedure?
Beat.
ZOYA:
Ohhhh! Andi!
ADITI:
Aditi.
ZOYA:
That was you! Thanks for that, I guess. Did you ever get out of that detention?
ADITI:
…nope!
ZOYA:
Oh… wow that sucks! I’m like, sorry about that.
ADITI:
…thanks.
Beat.
ADITI:
(under her breath) It's good to know that you haven’t changed at all!
ZOYA:
What?
ADITI:
Oh. well uh, you’ve just, you’ve always been one of those brown girls.
Beat.
ZOYA:
One of those brown girls?
Lights change as ZOYA turns to the audience
ZOYA:
See I happen to know exactly where this is going. She’s about to say a bunch of fun little buzzwords that some of you have probably heard before, others of you probably haven’t, and some of you may have even been called them yourself! Uncultured, whitewashed, always seeking validation from boys. Oh! And of course, my personal favorite– oreo! Of course that means, brown on the outside, white on the inside! She’s probably one of the many people who heard that one rumor that that one girl started about me and that one boy and just like everyone else at this school she thinks she knows exactly who I am because of it! How great! Oh! But don’t worry, I’ll just pretend I have no idea what she means by that! See, watch…
Lights change and everything unfreezes.
ZOYA:
I have no idea what you mean by that!
ADITI:
You know what actually, forget it. That came out wrong anyways.
ZOYA:
No really! I’d love to know what you meant by that!
Beat.
ADITI:
Well, uh, you know… you kinda have… a reputation.
ZOYA:
(sarcastic and dry) Reeaaally? A reputation? What exactly is it that the people say?
ADITI:
Well, y’know, that you’re not… the brightest.
ZOYA:
Ah! What else?
ADITI:
And that you’re, kind of,
ADITI is struggling to find the words
ADITI:
Well uh, that you’re–
ZOYA:
A slut.
Beat. After a long silence…
ADITI:
Well… you said it not me.
ZOYA scoffs.
ZOYA:
Well, you know what, at least I'm not your type of brown girl.
ADITI:
My type of brown girl?
Lights change as ADITI turns to the audience.
ADITI:
See, I don’t know if you guys caught that but when she says “my type of brown girl” what she really means to say is nerd, boring, model minority myth personified! I’m sure she wants to rub in the fact that she has SO many friends and talks to SO many boys or whatever it is she thinks makes her SO much better than everyone else. And she’s probably gonna say something about how I’m just another South Asian girl on a pre-med track, as if I don’t already have to deal with enough pressure to be different. You know what, she’s probably just jealous that I actually have goals in life, so she can nerd-shame me all she wants because at the end of the day, one of us is gonna be somewhere in 10 years and we all know that it WON'T be her. But of course, I would never say that to her face, so instead I’ll just say…
Lights change back as everything unfreezes
ADITI:
What exactly is my type of brown girl?
ZOYA:
Oh you know, the type that harrasses random people in Starbucks because she doesn’t agree with the politics of their drink instead of dealing with whatever issues she has in an actually healthy way.
ADITI:
Oh, you’re an expert on my issues now? Five minutes ago you couldn’t remember who I was.
ZOYA:
Well I’m just saying, you’re not the only one who knows how to psychoanalyze someone in the middle of a coffee shop.
ADITI:
Psychoanalyze! I’m sure that’s a big word for you, isn’t it?
ZOYA:
See this is what I mean! You people are so pretentious! You think just because you have a
perfect GPA that you can just shit on everyone else that is sooo far beneath you!
ADITI:
Well at least I try! At least I focus on shit that is actually important! That will actually matter in a year's time! Instead of worrying about being liked.
ZOYA:
Oh for god's sake! Are you really gonna stand here and tell me that you don’t care about being liked? Really?
ADITI:
I care more about integrity.
ZOYA:
Integrity? Oh so I don’t have integrity then?
ADITI:
Well you said it yourself, people think you’re a slut.
Beat.
ZOYA:
Is that what you think?
ADITI does not respond. ZOYA is crushed.
ZOYA:
Well. So much for being woke about coffee, now I'm getting slut-shamed by another woman.
Beat.
V.O. OF BARISTA:
One tall Mocha cookie crumble frap.
After a pause, ADITI shyly grabs her drink. ZOYA chuckles.
ZOYA:
By the way, that drink is gonna give you a stomachache.
There is a long silence. Neither one knows how to continue this conversation. After a while…
ADITI:
I– I don’t think you’re a slut. Or, I mean, I didn’t mean to say– I just, I feel like you shouldn’t care so much about these people. You could– you could do so much better than them.
ZOYA does not respond.
ADITI:
Look, I’m sorry, okay?
Long silence
ZOYA:
Who are “these people”?
ADITI:
What?
ZOYA:
You said I could do so much better than “these people,” who’s “these people”?
ADITI:
I don’t know, I guess, the people who don’t actually care about you as a person? The people who only want you because they think you’re “pretty enough for a brown girl” and that you won’t stand up for yourself– that you’ll just give them that power over you that they already think they have.
ZOYA thinks for a long time.
ZOYA:
I think you should heed your own advice.
ADITI:
What do you mean?
ZOYA:
Well, I think just as much as you pretend to care more about “integrity'' than being liked, you want that attention, too. You, just as much as me, want someone to say you’re pretty, even if it is just “pretty… for a brown girl”. Don’t you? Because you, just as much as me, are tired of the mold that everyone has placed you in. You’re tired of being seen as that kind of brown girl.
Beat. Aditi takes a long moment to think to herself. Zoya can tell that there is something she yearns to say but can’t quite explain.
ADITI:
I just… I’ve spent so much of my life building up this version of myself, you know? Perfect grades, perfect athlete, perfect daughter– someone who does it all, and does it all well, and still has enough gas left in the tank to run the extra mile. But… I’m getting so tired of running. I’m just so tired, of perfect. I just wish everything would slow down. Just for a bit. And I could try being someone different, try being… imperfect. So that maybe people wouldn’t just see me as, I don’t know, their pushover lab partner, or the “know-it-all”...no one likes a know-it-all. I don’t know, maybe I’d even try being… your type of brown girl. (Beat.) But I can’t. I can’t slow down. I can’t stop running. “Girls like you can’t afford to be lazy.” “Girls like you can’t afford to make mistakes”-- you tell that to a little kid and they’ll listen. Hell, they’ll do more than listen, they’ll live by it. For a long time. “Girls like you can’t afford to slow down, or the world will pass you right by, leaving you in the dust.”
Beat.
ZOYA:
Hey, you have every right to slow down.
ADITI:
When?
ZOYA:
Whenever you want. It’s your life and no one else’s.
ADITI:
Is it really that simple?
ZOYA:
No. But believing in it is a good place to start, I think.
Beat. ADITI and ZOYA share a glance and a soft smile. They seem to have reached an agreement. They sit in silence for a bit, living in this bittersweetness. They both take sips of their drinks, then finally…
ZOYA:
Y’know my mom actually makes the best chai. Every morning, she makes it in a pot on the stove, never any other way. No matter how late she is or where she’s going, she starts her day with fresh, straight-off-the-stove chai. When I was little, she wouldn’t let me have any, so I would sneak around her in the kitchen and drink from her cup when she wasn’t looking. Eventually she noticed that her chai would disappear rather quickly every morning, but she never said a word about it. Then, one morning I woke up to a cup of chai and a little post-it note sitting on the kitchen counter– with my name written on it. My mom would always leave for work before I woke up, but I found the same thing on the counter the next morning, and the next, and every morning after that. Oh! And she would always remember to put honey in mine because she knew I liked it sweet. I guess that's why I’m stuck on this “sugar and ice”. It's always… on the sweeter side. Though I do wish they would use… cinnamon or haldi or–
ADITI:
Cardamom?
ZOYA:
YES, cardamom! (Beat). I guess I just, I don’t know, being away from home the small things keep me…sane, calm? And, in my own way, a cup of chai every morning, no matter how far from home I am or how “real” it is, is kind of a…
ADITI:
Ritual?
ZOYA:
(with satisfaction) Yeah. A ritual.
Beat. There is a long silence.
ADITI:
Can I try some?
ZOYA:
What?
ADITI:
Your chai, I mean (does air quotes) “chai”– can I try some?
ZOYA:
Oh uh su-
ADITI:
I mean just because you were saying you like it sweet, I mean, me personally, I could use a little kick to mine and yours is probably cold anyway but like I'm, you know, kinda curious…
ZOYA:
Yeah… sure.
ZOYA hands ADITI her cup. A slowly takes a sip and then sits in deep thought.
ADITI:
It's…
ZOYA is on the edge of her seat.
ADITI:
It's… pretty good.
ZOYA:
YES! I TOLD you it was good and you didn’t wanna believe me because you're sitting so high and mighty on your horse of authenticity and wokeness or whatever.
ADITI:
Alright, alright, I said pretty good, not great…
ZOYA is grinning from ear to ear.
ADITI:
It could do with a little less sugar in my opinion but whatever.
ZOYA:
Says the girl with the mocha cookie crumble frap.
ZOYA reaches over and grabs ADITI’s drink. ADITI gives her a look.
ZOYA:
What? You tried mine, now I’ll try yours!
ZOYA takes a sip and almost instantly begins to gag.
ZOYA:
Oh yeah… that’s definitely gonna make your stomach hurt.
They both start smiling at each other and slowly start to laugh. ADITI takes a breath as if about to speak but just as she does so, an alarm goes off. It's ZOYA’s phone.
ZOYA:
Oh shoot. Class starts in 5 minutes.
ADITI:
Hey, it's okay. I should go too, not that I’m counting down the minutes to take this wonderful chem test or anything.
ZOYA:
You’re gonna do fine, just trust yourself.
ADITI:
Yeah you should too– trust yourself.
ZOYA gives a “yeah okay” kind of look
ADITI:
I mean not like because you have a test, I meant like, life-wise.
ZOYA:
Uh-huh yeah I got it.
ADITI:
Okay, bye.
Both start to walk away in opposite directions. Suddenly, they both stop abruptly and turn around.
ADITI: Wait, I took your drink ZOYA: Wait, I took your drink.
Blackout.
END OF PLAY