SALESMAN
Are you hard of hearing, Nathan? I said Darius: D-A-R-I-U-S.
(A crowd gathers)
NATHURAM
No, Mr. Darilal. I am only 23 and my eyes are getting poor. Bad diet, they say. But my ears are perfect; I can hear everything, Mr. Darilal.
SALESMAN
You god-damn. . .
(Crowd closes in)
Oh, never mind. Customer is always right, right Harry? Say--I didn't catch your name--
MOKSA
Moksa.
SALESMAN
Yea, say Harry tells me you get something like a religious kick out of making pottery.
NATHURAM
Ha! He's getting one right now, Mr. Darilal.
(Some laughter in the crowd)
SALESMAN
Your stuff is pretty nice. Does it have some special uses--like, do the Arabs use it in their temples? You know, is it special religious pottery?
MOKSA
Eat. Drink.
NATHURAM
Defecate. I believe you call them toilet bowls, Mr. Darilal. The little ones are for very small children.
