DEVOID OF
PUDUCHERRY, PRESENT DAY
-Assalamu alaikum. -Waalaikumsalam.
Did Nawaz send you?
Those papers…
-What did you say your name was? -Farooq, madam.
Farooq.
Your signature, madam.
I have to read it first. Sit down. Would you like some tea?
Trust me, I’m good at it.
Will you make it, madam?
There’s no house help today, they have a day off once a week.
You know, I like my privacy.
Thank you.
Impressive calligraphy.
Do you know what’s special about this piece?
In the 10th century, there was a Persian calligrapher,
Ibn Muqla Shirazi.
He was the one who converted the straight Kūfic script
into a new format called Thuluth nugra, which was cursive.
He showed the world that you could make handwriting into a beautiful art form.
Mash'Allah!
So much about calligraphy, huh?
How do you know all this?
I did two years of Islamic Arts at Oxford University.
I always wanted to be a great calligrapher.
And then?
They say if your handwriting is good,
your fate is bound to be unlucky, in my town.
Ma’am, your signature.
What happened next?
Then…
Then my father died.
You know how it goes, middle-class family, compulsion…
I stopped my studies and came home.
That is so unfortunate.
It’s all fate.
What’s in our hands?
I have a room upstairs.
It’s empty.
We could fill it up with some pieces of art.
-I think you should check it out. -Sure, ma’am.
Yeah? And why don’t you help me pick up some stuff for the room?
-Of course, ma’am, I would love to. -Good.
In fact, ma’am, I’m off on Sunday.
If you’re free then, we could go shopping?
Why wait till Sunday?
We can go tomorrow. I’ll talk to your manager.
-You know, you can take a day off. -Okay, ma’am.
Anyway, it’s my luck, there's someone like you in our company.
Otherwise, who could I ever talk to about all this?
It’s this room.
In fact, I’m quite interested in Arabu-Tamil.
I’ve written a lot of haiku-style poetry in Arwi.
How about this, ma’am?
Let me calligraph the poems you wrote.
It’s been a while since I’ve done it, too.
Calligraphy.
Your beautiful lines.
Your beautiful handwriting.
Hello?
Waalaikumsalam.
Who did you say you were again?
Hello, I’m talking to you. Who are you?
Do you know how the culture of adding milk to tea came about?
In colonial times, when you added hot water to low quality cups,
they would crack open.
But they wouldn’t if you added the milk first.
So, to show that their cups were made of the highest quality,
the culture of adding milk to tea
came about from the elite.
Whether you added the milk or the tea first
became a status symbol.
Hello, why tell me all this now?
Take yourself, for example.
All this knowledge of art, literature…
You make people believe that you were born in a royal family.
But who you really are,
where you come from,
is known only to me.
Your hometown is Adhiramapattinam.
Your father was an ordinary salt vendor.
You remember, don’t you?
Wahida!
KEELAKARAI, A FEW YEARS AGO
What are you looking at? Change his shirt for him.
Looks like it’s gonna rain, keep it all inside.
Wahida! That’s enough of changing his shirt, get out.
Look at her, laughing uncontrollably. She doesn't know the hierarchy.
Sir, please let go!
-Sir, what if someone comes? -Come here.
Sir, I'll get in trouble.
-Don't fuss too much. -Jaffar will see.
-No, sir. -Don't worry about him.
Get out.
I’m calling security.
Hussein Hojja. Muthupettai.
Don’t tell me you forgot?
SOMEWHERE NEAR ADHIRAMAPATTINAM
How was I supposed to know?
The only reason I married the old man
is that the doctors said he would surely die.
But he survived.
It even looks like he’ll live another ten years.
Look at you, it seems like you’re enjoying your new life.
Why are you talking like that?
Yeah, right, you’ll live comfortably and leave me to rot,
even though I’m the one who let you in there.
Don’t say such things.
Don’t act. I’m not Maraikayyar to be fooled by you.
I don’t know how you’re going to do it. Maraikayyar must die in a week.
What are you talking about?
Hey, tell the truth.
Do you love me or…
Do you remember what Maraikayyar did to us?
But wouldn’t we get caught if we did something to him?
That man, Jaffar, is already suspicious of me.
There’s another way.
Hussein Hojja.
MUTHUPETTAI
-You don’t seem like a saint yourself. -Bhai--
Look, casting a spell is nothing new to me.
But do you know about the djinn?
Bhai, those people have come.
Djinn.
It’s like a demon in your religion.
So?
Shall I cast the spell?
No, bhai, let me consult with my family before you do.
I’ll be back.
That guy’s a fraud, look at him run. Didn’t I tell you?
Let’s leave. I’m really afraid.
Don’t tell me you believed what the Hojja said?
You naive fool.
That’s just to scare people away.
It’s a technique people like that use.
If the djinn really comes back, why would he have to tell you?
Don't believe him, just make him believe us, got it?
Hey, madam.
Do you know how many people like you I see every day?
Just one look, and I know those are crocodile tears.
Who else can I talk to?
My creator had this in store for me.
My own father, out of his greed,
sold me off to an old man!
But now I see, instead of coming here,
I should have just jumped into the Muthupettai sea!
What else can I do?
Bhai, isn’t she also a woman like us?
Fine, I’ll do it. Get the things ready.
The djinn will finish the job as instructed.
But if you think you’re fooling me, the truth is, you’re fooling yourself.
This djinn, he’s not to be trifled with.
No matter how many years it takes,
one day he will be at your doorstep.
Who are you calling? Your new husband?
I collected his debts before I came to collect yours.
Wait,
someone will tell you the news soon.
Hello?
Sir, it is nothing. Please lie down.
It is nothing, sir. Stretch your legs.
I'll be right back, okay?
What did you do to Anwar?
What did I do?
"He who sows the field will reap the millet."
"He who sows sin…"
What did I do to deserve this?
You were the cause of an innocent man’s death.
Maraikayyar wasn’t innocent, don't you know?
All that wealth was rightfully ours.
We just took it back. What’s wrong with that?
That man deserved to die.
If he was alive, do you know how many families would have suffered?
Actually, if you think about it, I saved everyone from him.
Not just that.
After Maraikayyar died,
I did the hajj pilgrimage twice.
And then…
whatever good I could do with the wealth,
I did it all.
I’m telling you the truth.
That man would have drank it all away if he had the chance.
That drunkard.
Tell me this,
if you perform umrah, doesn’t it wash away your sins?
I finished that, too, two years ago.
After that,
I didn’t commit a single sin.
Not just that.
In our religion,
we have to pay 2,5% zakat.
But I pay 10% to those in need.
What else…
What else am I supposed to do?
Isn’t it enough?
What should I do?
Leave me be.
You can try your best to be a good person.
You can do namaz as many times as you want.
But if what you said was a lie,
even Allah may forgive you.
But the djinn?
He would appear to be like a normal human.
He will sweet-talk you.
He will even be deceitful enough to fool you.
But if he comes into your life,
every moment will be like hell.
He will torture you slowly, making every day worse than the last.
Instead of living your life,
he will make you yearn for death every second.
So shall I cast the spell?
Ya Allah!
Madam,
you didn’t sign.
It’s all right.
I can do it really well.
Your signature, I mean.
You can believe me.
What, Mrs. Wahida,
you slit your throat just for this?
What if you knew the truth?
Maraikayyar had a cerebral glioma.
Surgery was not an option at his age.
So he was practically on his deathbed.
Meeting you and falling in love was a placebo effect.
He believed you had miraculously cured him.
But in truth, he was still sick.
His tumor just grew dormant because of the placebo effect.
It was then that Jaffar found the black magic spell you created.
-Look at this. -What?
His tumor grew malignant,
and his fears manifested as hallucinations.
Hey, nothing will happen! Go inside!
Maraikayyar believed what he was seeing was real.
And you encouraged his delusions.
Until he died,
the only one who knew the truth was Jaffar.
But you accused him of stealing and fired him.
That honest man couldn’t bear the shame of it.
Dad!
-What happened? -Dad!
Dad, what happened?
-Dad! -Dad!
He was the only earning member of his family.
And he left five daughters behind.
Not just them.
He had a son, too.
He had to stop his studies abroad and come home.
For those who do evil deeds
Ethics would be the destroyer
Such words of the wise Are never wrong
The king just by looking has lost
When the words of the lady
Fall into his ears
He lost his life
Immediately
My name is Mohammad Farooq Jaffar.
My father’s name was Mohammad Jaffar Sadiq.
That innocent man I was talking about…
was my father.
My father used to say,
"One day your handwriting will change people’s destiny, Farooq."
How could you make me change it like this?
Khuda haafiz.
WAHIDA