(tram sound)
(mysterious music rising)
(dramatic music building up)
(knife slashing through flesh)
(knife stabbing repeatedly)
Sir?
Yes?
I have to go home next week.
Why? What about the work here?
Monsoon will arrive early this year.
I must go to my farm.
Monsoon clouds? I don’t see any…
Don’t try to bluff me.
But we know for sure. Better keep a watch.
Or else the rains will flood the tunnel.
Sir?
They’re saying that the rains will arrive early this year.
-Hmm.
-Yeah, go on...
Yeah...
George
-Missing Easter? -Ah. If wishes were horses…
The heat, the humidity here is relentless!
Soon. The rains are coming.
The horses won’t be grazing for too long.
We just can’t miss this deadline, George.
Alight. Double shifts then.
Yes.
So...
-Feeling like a film star? -Shoo!
In this rickety coffin?
They should've arranged a limousine for you, eh?
I'm worried about the luggage up there.
Is this a bus or a wheelbarrow?
They're paying for the mistake made 23 years ago. Serves them right!
Move it!
Imagine the turn of fate.
It’s we who had to come here seeking help.
-Stop the bus! -Halt!
These swines are always on the hunt.
Why would anyone carry a gun on a bus?
It’s our songs they fear more than guns.
Tagore’s songs,
Kazi sahib’s songs,
Azam brother’s songs…
Excuse me... Who is Azam brother?
The voice of the revolutionaries and rebels!
-I see. -Hands up!
-Here they come. -Move it!
-Will they search us? -Move!
What are you doing? You'll spill all the grains!
Shut it!
-Will they check passports? -Just calm down!
-Name?
Mujibur Rahman.
Your name, not your daddy’s name!
Joy Bangla!
Who dared to say that?
(scoffing)
Two words make these soldiers tremble, they call this an army?
Joy Bangla!
-Who said it?
Come out!
Joy Bangla!
-Brother.
I've been tolerating these idiots for three hours.
I assure you they are useless.
-And you are?
Zakir Hussain from the Lahore Secretariat.
And this is my secretary, Abdul Sattar.
Our car broke down, we had to board this wreck of a vehicle.
The revised pay commission has come.
We came to East Pakistan to deliver the news.
(soldier smirking)
Situation has worsened here, sir.
Some rebels hurled a bomb at the convoy yesterday.
Apparently, a music band. But swines of the first order.
If this'll take time, shall we have the headquarters send a jeep?
Oh, it’ll just take a minute.
Also, can you please tell your men to be careful on the roof?
There are imported gifts for senior officials up there, you know.
Would you like one?
-Thank you.
Here, take it.
Thank you.
Let’s go, nothing here.
(bus ignition starting)
Who on earth is this Zakir Hussain?
Thank you.
-Welcome to Intercontinental.
Hello...
-Yes, ma'am? -Which room is Mr. Roy staying in?
-Who? -Um, sorry.
Mr. Abdul Bukhatir... from London.
Oh, one minute.
Will you tell him, Kaberi is here?
Yeah, sure.
Um, hello, sir.
Kaberi is here to meet you.
Yeah.
(soft piano playing)
-I'll have my guests over tonight. -Okay, sir.
-So, you think Mujib will win?
Look around…
It’s only you intellectual types who care.
All these moneybags... they seem happy.
-(scoffing) Yes.
They are so engrossed in their balance sheets
and fancy family lunches at five-stars, how will they care?
-Hmm.
-People starving, people dying without medication,
people beaten to death in broad daylight...
-Hmm...
-They don't have time for this.
A bunch of millionaires don't make a nation.
-True, true
-Dying patients at the hospital, imprisoned revolutionaries,
murdered martyrs; they are the soul of a nation.
-Hmm!
That swine Hanif killed our Suman da.
We stood there, watching; couldn’t do a thing.
Even Shamsur sir's death; happened at your club, right?
Thanks a lot for bringing sir’s luggage to us.
Now, we'll get going.
Well, it's true.
Something’s amiss in this hotel's food.
Why don’t you invite us over to your mess house sometime?
Why would you eat at the mess?
Come to my house, I’ll cook for you one day!
Just like your sister!
We'll leave now.
-Hmm.
-Bye. -Hmm.
Let's go.
(clears throat) He's not there, I called up the medical college.
Gone back?
No. He’s on a field visit.
Near the border. At a medical camp.
Near an army cantonment.
Must be crawling with soldiers there.
We should set out immediately, Jimmy.
Hmm.
We should.
High security...
Army camp...
Excuse me, sir, tonight, there's a special dinner.
There will be a buffet and cocktails for the guests.
-It's the Major General's birthday. -Wonderful.
It's complimentary for all our foreign guests, sir.
The dress code is formal, sir.
Okay. Thank you.
-May I? -Sure.
Have a great time, sir.
-Hmm...
Thank you.
(uptempo party music)
Music playing
What are you drinking?
It’s fresh lime and…
Salt and sugar?!
So...
you seem to be in high spirits!
I would've never thought they would be serving premium scotch over here.
Genuine.
-Hmm...
Brutal for sure.
Will the readers like this?
Sir, you realize?
A brothel, a sex worker, burglary;
a bone chilling mystery…
It's like our good old Troilokyo is back in an all new avatar.
Calcutta’s very own serial murderess!
-A solid theory.
But how are you so sure, Mr. Mittir?
Are you Mittir or Mitter?
I'm not maligning the forces by spilling tales.
Ordinary people have suffered violence.
I’ll put it in writing, Zaihur sahib.
The army won’t allow your film.
You used Tagore’s song in it.
You used real shots of Dhaka without permission.
So, you agree, those shots used in “Jibon Theke Newa” are real?
The film has already been censored. How can the army ban it now?
Brother Zaihur,
the same way the martial law can allow them to shoot.
Faiz sahib... you should try and talk sense into him.
This isn't just about Maghribi or Mashriqi Pakistan.
There are graver sorrows in this world, than those inflicted by politics.
Don’t demand such things from my wise old bones, General.
They remember their days in the jail, also in exile…
This nation needs you, Zaihur.
The regime can steal an election from Jinnah’s daughter,
then what are you and I?
East or West, Army is the Pest.
You are taking advantage of Bhutto's friendship, be careful.
Yes, sir?
-Didn't I tell you not to let them come inside?
-How can we refuse entry, sir, to a poet of his stature?
He is a government official, sir.
At least you have people-to-people connect.
I mean, back in London…
do you really think the Admiral or even the Queen,
would party in a hotel
with rank commoners like us?
What did you think…
Oh...
I am Abdul Bukhatir from London. An investor.
(tense music builds)
-Are you sure the murderer is a woman?
The throat has been ripped open.
Both the murders had cracked bones.
Wrist, elbow, shoulder socket…
And the second body, which was found at Sonagachi?
-Hey, I'm a cop! Please!
For academic purposes, I've had to study the non-pictorial Kamasutra.
There’s this position in it.
It's called Paravrttaka. I’ll show you.
Wait.
Kind of...
-Ugh!
It requires you to spin the waist at 180 degrees.
That's when the shoulder, elbow and wrist can crack.
We need more information to print a book.
I’ve started going to Sonagachi frequently.
For the sake of my job.
I’m not leaving this case, madam.
Sir... sir, number 3!
Told you so?
Let's go!
Let's go. Please pay for me.
(uptempo music starts)
Music playing
You see, I found all this quite amusing, honestly.
While the world is busy in discovering oil & gold & trade...
Pakistan is just being pulled back.
Pity...
Well, sir...
We are also going to open up like India.
-Hmm? -Elections are coming, and...
Excuse me, sir... excuse me.
Also, we are on better terms with America.
-Hmm. -As you probably know well.
Come to Lahore. You’ll find a lot of opportunities.
Yeah. Of course. But...
you see, for my business, I trade in medical equipment and research.
And it’s very difficult for me
to get to someone who is well versed in both,
the American way of thinking and based out of the subcontinent.
I tried all I could over here,
but now I think it’s better I go to Calcutta and…
Oh, I’m sure someone can help you here.
Ramiz...
Sir.
What's the name of the American doctor at the cholera labs?
David Palin.
Hasn’t he gone back to America?
No, sir. He is still here. At our SEATO lab.
Thanks to him, cholera deaths have been actually reduced to
-less than one percent. -Hmm!
Whether it’s a blessing or a curse, that’s a different story.
Excuse me?
These Bengalis are useless.
Just reproducing like rabbits…
It would’ve at least led to some natural population control!
They're just good at being bandmasters.
Dr. Palin and our SEATO team...
They are presently at Bagerhat... Khulna.
Ah...
God!
Khulna...
How to get there?
I am going there tomorrow. If you want to come with us,
the jeep can pick you up in the morning.
That's lovely!
Thank you!
Bartender, can we have a drink for Mister...
-Ramiz! -Ramiz! Please!
Thank you very much, I appreciate it!
-Welcome, sir. -Thank you. The band is too good.
(ominous music fading in)
A haircut or a shave?
-Just a massage.
-A third body, Major-- -Shh!
It’s been a year!
Still don't understand sign language?
When will you stop saying this “Major, Major”!
-Our men are getting killed-- -Shh. They want revenge too, right?
Didn’t I tell you to go into hiding?
But why are they killing them off?
-Why not make arrests? -They are not after the pawns.
Surely, the boys did not say a word about you.
The IB has become quite vigilant.
We'll have to be way more careful.
The backup agents have arrived.
I’ll let you know if required.
-Don’t worry.
We’ll do something soon.
Till then...
go somewhere else.
Go where?
-Half plate at table seven... -Uh, telephone?
-20 paisa, can't you see it written there?
And for incoming calls?
Does this look like the telephone exchange to you?
Okay?
Order for a plate of toasts & tea.
Let that keep you busy. Don’t take a lot of time though.
Many people come here, don’t they?
Have you seen these two?
Everyone from the thieves to the cops, come here.
How can I remember everyone?
Are you a cop?
No. They borrowed money from me and ran away.
You can’t trust anyone these days.
Anyway…. hurry up. The queue is getting longer.
(phone ringing)
Yes?
Hmm.
-Thank you.
Hello?
A lot of people come here to receive calls.
Difficult to pinpoint one person in particular.
Still, try.
Outstation calls have a different kind of ring.
You’ll know when you hear one. Showed him the photo?
-Hmm. -Uh, he doesn't recognize them.
-Do I pick him up for questioning? -No, don't. That’ll tip them off
Okay. Let me know.
Okay? Bye.
Thank you for the intimation, sir.
You’re most welcome.
Regular phone calls from a Dhaka number to a Pice Hotel…
And on the same day, at the same time…
It seemed a bit fishy to me.
Then I saw that the number is Dhaka’s Eastern Command’s.
-Hmm.
-I did the math.
There must be more such hotspots.
-Hmm. -They will get activated now.
Please let me know if you notice any patterns.
-Sure. -I'll take my leave.
-Bye. -Bye.
Oh, can I make a phone call?
-Sure. -Thank you, sir.
Is my English good enough for London?
Decent enough.
I can put in a word for you there.
But you own a car here.
Things look good for you here in Dhaka...
-Oh, no, sir.
The government is not doing anything here.
And the big jobs in Lahore... they only go to the children of army men.
-Hmm... what's the news?
They’re going towards Khulna.
-Hmm. Follow them, keep me posted.
-Dr. Palin is over there.
They will probably be back by evening.
They went in an army car.
In the Pak Army car?
-He talked his way in.
-Let me know as soon as they return.
(pensive music swelling)
(children crying)
-He needs to rest
and drink lots of water.
Most importantly, boil the water.
(in Bangal) Take rest, and drink lots of boiled water.
-You understand? -How will I boil it?
No oil, no pots. If I use up all that I have left
how will I cook?
-Sir...
The Major is on his way.
And... can you wait before you administer the rest of the shots?
We wanted to have you and the General in the same frame.
For the paper. This is for The Tribune
-(sighing) Okay, let's go.
Ramiz… can you stop here once?
-I need to... -Stop the car.
(birds chirping)
(goat bleating)
You can go behind the bushes.
(nostalgic earthy music)
(people screaming)
Run!
But this boat is all you have...
Don't worry about me.
Just go now!
If I'm alive, I'll get another boat!
-Sir? -Yes?
I have to reach before the General comes.
-Okay. -Please call him.
Jimmy?
Jimmy...
(smirking)
Jamini...
My name is Jamini Roy.
(uplifting tune swelling)
-Into the light, sir.
Yes, yes... perfect!
Thank you.
-Thank you, Dr. Palin, but...
I don’t understand why you had to drag me all the way till here.
All this could've been done in Dhaka.
For you to realize the extent of the suffering.
And as a practitioner at SEATO, it's imperative,
that we also reach out to other nations.
Absolutely not.
Hmm!
Sir!
-This way? -Yes...
-Hey, isn't that Zakir Hussain?
Sir!
Oh no!
Remember me? The bus?
Yes!
-How are you? -Great!
-What about you? -Great!
-You've a visitor? -General Hanif.
Where can I meet Dr. Palin?
What’s the point of these photographs then?
For the readers of East Pakistan to realize who their true saviors are.
So... the lives have value
as long as they help a purpose, right?
The level of nutrition in the poor is abysmal,
and even if they survive cholera, the malnutrition will kill them.
Dr. Palin,
the dead don’t vote!
Only the fearful ones who stay alive, do. Hmm?
(ominous music)
-Hello.
I'm Dr. Patranabis.
I've come from Calcutta.
-Nice meeting you.
It’s kind of amazing that you’ve come to me
all the way from the city of my spiritual guide...
Dr. Hemen Chatterjee.
He had written about this more than a decade ago.
And we’ve just implemented it.
Sir...
Is it okay?
-Hello, General. -Hi.
I met General Farid at the Intercontinental yesterday.
He was talking about you.
-Another friend of Faiz? -Oh, no…
I am just a businessman. My family is from Lahore.
But they shifted to London
-What are you doing here? -Uh, business.
I deal in medical equipment, on-ground paramedic support,
training; you know, the backbone of the infantry.
Can I have 15 minutes?
Meet me at the Dhaka office day after. Let's see what we can do.
Sure, thank you.
Thank you.
-Mr. Zakir, spoke to him? -Yes!
-Great!
(mysterious music)
You know Bukhatir?
-Who? -Bukhatir.
-13.5 gm of glucose.
2.6 gm of sodium chloride.
2.9 gm of trisodium citrate.
And 1.5 gm of potassium chloride.
A sachet of this powder
diluted in one liter of clean water.
-Okay. -Four teaspoons table salt,
and three of baking soda and a lot of commercial glucose.
Okay...
-So, basically salt, sugar and water.
-Shikanji? -Huh?
What?
No...
This is it then?
We came this far to get the recipe we already know?
It’s just fresh lime!
Yes, but... the measurement has to be exact.
-Yes. -Add extra salt,
and that's a lot of sodium.
Seizures and coma.
And if you put in more sugar,
it'll lead to frequent urination, blurred vision, maybe diabetes.
Don’t mind him, Doctor.
This hotelier is more a jazz-man than a fieldworker.
-Hmm, I love jazz too.
-A Charlie Parker fan? -Yeah.
Okay, keep this.
-Keep it. -Sir?
-One photo? -No...
-No. -I think it won't be appropriate.
-These gentlemen have to leave. -Yes...
Thank you. Thank you very much!
-You're welcome. -Thank you very much!
Thank you.
(tense music)
Have you lived in London all your life?
Yes, mostly.
Then you must only speak Urdu and English?
Just like you.
It must’ve been difficult in Dhaka, since you do not know Bengali.
Thankfully, I did not need it.
You’re from London too?
-Huh? -You're from London too?
Yes, yes.
(clearing throat)
Uncle, two men in suits riding in an army jeep.. Seen them?
-Yes, they went that way. -Okay.
Come.
Ramiz...
Why have you brought us here?
If the army needs to see our documents, then they are...
-Sit! -Easy!
-Name?
Abdul Bukhatir.
You said a different name on the bus.
-What was that letter you showed? -Come on, man.
I was stuck in that bus for hours. Lied to get out of the situation.
That's all.
Your name?
-Wait a second.
The army has questions? Come to the hotel & check our documents.
If you're from London, why were you on that bus?
Were you coming from the airport?
(exhales)
Brother, we reached Dhaka three days ago.
Our car broke down during a field visit.
So, I showed him the papers, hoping that he'll give us a lift.
But maybe he didn’t understand my English.
-Shut up! Sir, he told me he is from the Pay Commission!
I lied! So?
I was in a hurry!
I thought an imported cigarette would be enough.
You’ll shoot a foreign investor for this?
Huh? Fine, shoot!
-Joy Bangla!
-What’s that? -Found it while raiding the bus.
-A**hole. -You’re in trouble.
Until we check your papers…
How was I supposed to know you stop people on the road like this?
Huh!?
This is not how you will land any business in London.
If you're done insulting us, can we eat something?
Or will you starve us?
Oh!
I’m sure dollars don’t work here?
You see, sir, it is our job to check everyone...
-Yeah, right. -Excuse me!
Will you give the bird back? Its master was looking for it.
Master? Where?
He was right here… just now.
-I'm feeling sick.
(gasping nervously)
(bomb explodes)
Comrade!
Move.
Hey...
-Run! -Let's go!
Get going.
No!
No, no, no!
-Hey, move aside! -Take the guns!
-I deal in medical...
Bengali lives aren’t worth anything in this country!
But foreigners are worth a fortune, eh?
-Brother.
All we do is carry out orders from higher-ups in exchange for a salary.
Just pawns… not the government.
You draw salaries to shoot down poor & needy farmers?
Pay me to not shoot you.
-In notes of a thousand each. Do not try anything funny.
-Sir, I deal in medical equipments. -Otherwise...
Get up!
Otherwise your government
will keep explaining to the world what happened to the tourists here.
Find them! Find them!
Let's go! Move!
Move it!
-Sir, medical equipment... -Move!
Move!
Feeling sick, eh? I'll make you feel sick!
-Move it! -Start the car!
-We must complete it today, sir.
-Risking so many lives...
and our resources...
for that upstart, Mr. Shashi?
When they won't lure you
with materialistic things
Thank you, sir.
When they can't lure you anymore
They won't insult your language & culture for being different
They won't distance themselves
When will we create
such a human society?
When Hindus & Muslims
When Hindus, Muslims, Buddhists & Christians
Such differences won’t be made anymore
When will we create
a society like that?
You cost me ten thousand, Roy sahib.
Now, tell me...
How do I make up for this, Doctor?
I’m just a doctor. I don’t deal well with money.
-I didn’t recognize you in the bus.
Things would’ve gone south had Tapan da not told me.
Tap...
Who is Tapan?
Wait, he’ll be coming.
And, why guns?
Have you lost faith in Mujib?
Faith in Mujib, Mujib in faith.
The outpost where we just encountered a romantic scene,
you think they'll set up an election booth there?
Have some tea.
-Oh, thank you. -Thank you.
Really needed this!
-Here.
-Nice tea.
Amreen...
Why are you hesitating? Go on, ask.
Have you seen Uttam Kumar for real? You know him?
I do in fact. Quite well. He’s your favorite?
Yes. He lives at Moyra Street, right?
My father had a shop there before the partition.
Oh!
Very interesting... Who else do you have there now?
Nobody.
Amreen.
-You can go now. -Hmm.
-All of us...
have lost someone or the other.
All of us left something behind. The root of all the hatred & rage.
-Hmm...
-And the regime wants that.
The English left, the divide-and-rule policy remained.
It is easier to rule people
with fear than with love.
So, you...
love Mujib or fear him?
-Bongobondhu?
Bongobondhu evokes love.
But Pakistan?
Pakistan wants fear!
(ominous music swelling)
(Mujib's speech on radio)
-Sir.
They've made him into a messiah.
They swarm in like flies to listen to his speeches.
Bump up Bhutto’s speeches on the radio.
Those are in Urdu.
Compared to Mujib, Bhutto seems… kinda bald.
Have you seen Mujib’s hair?
That fish oil they take, must have something in it…
Sir.
Hey! Ramiz! What happened?
-There are no leading officials in the Pakistani army.
Imagine what will happen if they don’t do well in the elections?
-Hey! Take the jeep out!
-Whether an artist or a student...
unless you bow down to the West
no one is safe.
You talk about rights?
They respond with sticks & bullets.
They just understand one language.
Bloodshed.
Brutal!
Horrifically brutal!
Brutality is the coward’s spectacle.
(car draws close)
-Hey! Hey!
-Yes? -Were you urinating?
Well, sir...
Seen an army jeep pass?
A tall bearded man, two other men, and a woman?
If you see anyone, report at the police station. Got it?
-Hmm.
Take care, Azam.
A ship is safest in its harbor.
Get it?
(jackal howling)
That doesn’t mean the boatman can stay put on the shore.
Compared to the adventurous life of riding the sea waves,
being stuck on the shore seems rather... worthless.
(bike draws near)
Huh? What... What happened?
-Put everything inside! We don't know who this is!
Go inside!
Who is it?
Seems like Tapan!
-Tapan, is it you? -Azeem?
-Tapan, come. -Come.
-Come! -Jimmy Roy, I'm Tapan from India.
We have to go the other way.
-Hop on. -Hop on, hurry!
-Be careful. -You too.
-Bye. -Go!
Let's go!
Joy Bangla!
(suspenseful music)
(people screaming)
-Come! -Everything's over!
Go on! Run!
Come on, take my hand!
-This boat is all you have, Humayun da.
Don't worry about me. Now, just get going.
If I live, I'll get a boat again.
People have turned barbaric.
Better run away, Shyamal da.
I'll be relieved to know that y'all continue to live safely somewhere.
Get going. Leave…
Come, sister, get in.
(dramatic music building)
Any valuables?
Well, a couple of ties & shirts in the almirah.
Oh! The tweed jacket!
Wait, take this, it'll be useful.
It’s okay, never mind. I have what I had come for.
-Thank God... -Where are we going?
Hey, are we going towards the river?
-Come, careful. -No, we'll take a different route.
Come.
(digging tool strikes rock repeatedly)
Hey!
Move aside! I'll do it!
(rain pelting down)
-Let's see where he takes us!
-You know him?
-How will I know him? Let's just follow him...
Where are we going?
-What... -Go on, help me.
-We have to get in here? -Just come!
Hurry up!
(dramatic music swelling)
Lightning flashes The rain pours down
(suspenseful music)
Can't see anything!
-Come -Go ahead!
Keep walking
-Torchlight, Jimmy! -Yes, come.
Follow me...
Come on.
(muffled voice) Where?
Hey... this... we've hit a wall!
Harder! Harder!
Help! Help!
Hey...
-The rainwater pouring in! -Come on, break it!
-It's flooding in! Move aside! -Hell with it...
Sir!
-Oh, you? -Wait!
Wait...
-Move! -Can you ever act normal?
-I'm breaking it down, step aside!
Come!
Pull!
My pants are ruined! Damn it!
-Sir, careful.
Careful...
-Easy, hold his hand. -Take the torch.
-Give me the torch. -Come on.
(slow, relieving music)
You can’t tell a soul about this, Doctor.
-Please. -No, of course.
And I truly apologize for this.
Why? It was an honour for me!
So kind of you!
Matches?
Who am I asking...
Sanjeeboni.
-Hmm...
(triumphant music soaring)
(phone ringing)
(triumphant music resuming)
(cloud rumbling)