'Man chanting Shloka'
Sanskrit chants
Panditji what are you doing??
Sanskrit chants
This is my family.
I'm putting them to rest.
Peace be upon them.
In November, the Indan Prime Minister
toured the world
to explain again the gravity of the situation
In capital after capital, she pleads the Bengali cause
In London she has asked what can be done
to stop the refugee accidents
Well surely that the massacre there stops the rape stops
The burning of villages stop.
Can it not be fair to put to you
that you are contributing in a way
to the exodus of the refugees by
your support of Pakistan Guerillas.
And mustn't you, in effect...
face the question of having to reduce your support
for the Guerilla army which is operating in East Pakistan.
Well, that means we allow a massacre to continue?
What happened first?
How many people were killed according to
your correspondent of British Newspapers?
Of American Newspapers? Of French Newspapers?
Canadian Newspapers, Arabian Newspapers.
The massacre began long before there was a single Guerilla.
But if the contribution to quietening
of the situation as I say--
No, what does quietening mean? Does it mean
that we allow, we support the genocide?
And do you think it can be stopped?
Do you think people are going to sit aside
and watch their women raped in front of them?
And say that, no, we are going to quieten the situation.
That's not quietness.
That is the worst possible type of war
It is the worst possible type of violence.
But how then without something done to control
the Guerilla activity in return for
greater discipline by the Pakistan Army
can we secure this first step?
When Hitler was on the rampage
why didn't you say let's keep quiet
let's have peace with Germany
and let the Jews die or
let Belgium die, let France die! Would you say that was quiet?
- Joi Bangla! - Joi Bangla!
But why Joi Bangla?
Why not Joi Bengali ?
Speak up.
Bengali is our language, Islam is our religion.
But Bangladesh is our everything!
Joi Bangla!
And that is why, I am first a Bangladeshi,...
then Bengali
and then a Muslim
- Joi Bangla! - Joi Bangla!
This may be my final message.
From this day onwards...
Bangladesh is independent!
I call upon the people of Bangladesh!
Wherever you might be
and with whatever you have
to resist the army of occupation till the last.
Your struggle must go on
until the last soldier
of the Pakistani occupation army is expelled
fro in the so of Bangladesh
Final victory is ours
Joi Bangla!
From this day onwards
Bangladesh is independent!
I call upon the people of Bangladesh...
How many times are you going to listen to it?
Just a little while longer. I am almost done.
Please play it or else I won't be able to write.
You'll go mad!
See' the boy has already come to take the article.
Bangladesh... Wherever you might be...
and with whatever you have...
to resist the army of...
He won't come inside.
Say's he is in a hurry.
Your struggle must go on!
He's coming.
Last night' the president' the Pakistani army..
The 'bindi' really suits you'...
now you can listen to whatever you like.
Here.
- Go quickly. - Yes.
Were you expecting someone?
No.
Let me check.
Don't go.
Ok go!
These people forced me to...
It's so noisy in here.
Turn on the lights.
Now we can talk in peace.
Thank you.
What do you want?
Nothing!
But you seem to want freedom'...
isn't it?
You can do whatever you want'...
but you can't stop Bangladesh from becoming a free nation.
Do whatever you want?
These are strong words...
do whatever you want
and yet you use them so carelessly...
I have a big house in Lahore
where my parents' my brothers' sisters'
my two aunts' uncles and their children
by god's grace its a big family
and all of us live under one roof
but if one day my brother comes to me and says
divide this house into two
then I will divide him into so many pieces'
that he will forget how to count.
See?
The mere mention of a divide
has brought tears to your eyes.
- Scoundrel! - Amir!
How had that child wronged you?
How have we wronged you?
Not me
but yes
you have wronged Pakistan!
We haven't done anything to anybody,
we have nothing to do with your Pakistan!
'Your Pakistan'?
Then you will say 'your I slam'
'your Allah'.
There is only one Allah!
Islam is also one
and so is Pakistan!
That's why not yours, not mine,
but ours.
You only explain to him...
You fool!
If only we had continued this tête-à-tête...
you would've been in a better position.
Remember, you are the one to have ended it.
Hey!
You have a lot of love for your Bangladesh isn't it?
Now watch,
while I disrobe your love.
Scoundrel!
Leave her alone you animal.
Abbu, please play a song.
Open your mouth!
Abbu, he's looking at me!
Kausar...
- Kausar! - Yes?
Where are Abbu and Ammi?
They have gone to get food,
must be on their way back.
When did they go?
While you were sleeping.
Will they come soon?
Is there anything to eat?
Eat a guava.
They have worms in them.
So what?
Not all of them are spoilt,
should I find you one?
Yes.
- Can you see them? - No.
Look properly.
I can't see them,
can't see anyone.
You come down, let me climb.
Come down, let me see.
Do you think they heard me?
Lets go and look for them.
What if they come here while we are gone?
They told me to wait here.
It will be scary at night.
Why?
You're not a child.
Not like you are an old man.
Lets go find them!
No.
They will come back here.
Rafiq!
Your Radio!
What else did your teacher tell you about demons?
That they are
made of fire...
And what does fire do?
It burns!
Has everything burnt to ashes?
Everything!
Torch.
Open it.
Take all these women and wash them'
I don't like filth.
Yes Sir!
Get up.
Get up! Make everyone stand!
Move!
Where is everyone!
Take them!
Move!
Stand here!
Move!
Clothes off, everybody.
Name?
Fatima. Age?
What's your age?
Forty.
Come here.
Come here!
Forty.
Urdu...
Bloody Bengalis.
Forty.
That side.
Name?
Sarah.
Age?
17.
That side.
Name?
Shahnaz.
Age?
29.
That side.
Name?
- Fida. - Fida.
Age?
32.
That side.
- Name? - Nikhat.
Take them away.
Move.
Stand behind her. Go!
Move.
Mehrunisa, Twenty Seven years old.
Thirteen.
Zeenat, Eighteen years old.
Fourteen Sir.
Haseena Khatun, Thirty Two years old.
- Fifteen. - Wow!
Splendid Sir, god has willed it.
Sanober, Twenty Four years old.
Almost!
Sanober, Twenty Four years old.
Fourteen.
Fida, Twenty Nine years old.
Fifteen.
Fifteen?
Yes Sir!
These women are not here for you...
they are here to serve our nation!
- Saleha... - Hey!
The children that are born from their wombs...
will be theirs as well as ours.
God willing, they'll dissolve the difference between
West and East Pakistan.
Yes Sir.
They will be Pakistan's children.
Yes Sir.
So fifteen or sixteen?
Fif.. fif..
- Sixteen Sir. - Tofail!
Yes Sir.
Fifteen? Or Sixteen?
Sir, I think...
sixteen.
You think?
The difference between fifteen and sixteen
is not a mere number.
It's the difference of an entire generation.
Yes Sir.
- Doctor. - Sir.
Make sure all these women...
can have children.
And if possible' more than one.
And those who can't
have no reason to live.
Understand?
Yes Sir!
Then why the hell are you still standing here?
Go.
Yes Sir!
Listen!
Come here.
- Ok go. - Okay.
Marvelous!
Dirty.
Where are we?
Dirty.
Where?
Didi where am I?
In Hell.
They couldn't even find Fida's body?
It's so dark in here.
Your friends are here to see you.
I'll call them here.
Amir, It's good to see you are recovering well.
Brother Amir, we were just telling Mohsin
that he must move out of this house.
We have already discussed this matter,
why do you need to talk about it in front of him...
Listen.
I am not like an Ostrich
which buries It's head in the sand
and thinks that the danger has passed.
Amir is very lucky
that he is still alive.
You, him or I
might not be able to survive the next attack.
And you know
that they are going to attack again.
So you mean,
we should run every time we see danger?
We can run,
but what about those who can't?
We are not social workers.
We are journalists!
Our job is not to stop these brutal crimes,
but to write about them.
Only if we are alive' will we be able to write.
No,
that's not the way.
If we write only then will we be alive.
Otherwise our bodies might live on,
but our conscience will surely die!
Amir you have no idea what has
has been going on here for the last three days.
You were unconscious...
- During this... - I was unconscious,
but I am awake now.
I know
what we must do...
we must gather,
not just journalists,
we will include every one.
Munawar bhai, Selina, Rashid Sahb,
Scientists, Students, Teachers,
we must come together and form a strategy,
and we will write,
we will report things.
I will be the first to write
and tell people what I have gone through.
What?
Am I not making any sense to you?
Amir, wasn't I telling you, in the last three days...
I couldn't even recognize Selina's body.
Munawar, Rashid Sahb,..
Mannan, Zahirul,...
Chakraborty...
all of them have been...
I thought
I was the only one.
Even Fida wasn't the only one.
I know what I have to do.
Where is the phone?
The school children sang songs
and the principal praise
the efforts of the American government.
One moment.
Hello?
They are waging war.
Only you I know can do something about it.
Amir, I understand.
But please realize, our powers have been taken away.
I'm really in no position to...
It will give me a sense of pleasure
if you let me see her body please.
Please do something.
I overheard they've let some women live.
Please, help me find Fida.
I'll be indebted to you for the rest of my life.
Are you listening?
Can we meet?
I can come to Dhaka if you want.
Hey, get out!
Get of the bus. Old man!
Get of.
I will kill you!
Silence!
Look here' this is 'pul-e-sirat'.
The bridge over hell.
H ell on this side and heaven on the other.
Will you run?
Run!
Run now.
Run!
Rafiq!
- What is it? - Come quickly!
Coming.
Come now!
You want to see something?
There is more here.
- So much! - What?
So much rice!
Kaki knew so many stories.
We've buried everyone...
Uncle Rasool, Batulan,
brother Kamrul,
brother Akbar,
- Moulvi Sahb, Master Sahb... - Only Abbu and Ammi...
...and we have cremated Kaki.
Now we can go.
Where?
Anywhere'
we've buried everyone,
our job is done.
...but Kaki doesn't have a grave.
Where should we write her name?
Should we write it on her house?
There, on that wall.
I'll write it.
Kausar!
Pakistani!
No there are women too.
You go and hide.
Let me check.
Who are you?
What are you doing here, alone?
This is my village!
Then where are the rest of the villagers?
There.
We are travellers,
we need a place to stay.
There is no place here.
- Listen... - Let me handle this.
We are all very tired,
even the animals.
We all need rest.
Just one night?
Yes,
we will leave with the first light.
What will we get?
What will you get!
What can you get from us?
Then you can't stay.
Alright.
We have rice...
He has eaten, just a handful of rice after two long days.
I am his sister,
It's just the two of us in this village.
We were afraid, the Pakistanis were approaching.
We are like you son.
Whatever we have, is all yours.
Come on! Set the stove,
we have two guests with us tonight.
This is Mariyam.
I am Kausar and this is Rafiq.
Come.
- Who was that boy? - My brother.
Sister, sing a song.
Bengali Folk Song
Okay.
Baba.
What is this dear?
There is a tradition in our village,
when a child is born, we eat 'ladoos'.
...but so much rice!
Kaki left it behind...
...she will not mind.
Come, come.
Why are you crying?
Well done Rafiq. I think he likes the song.
Our government has failed to denounce
the suppression of democracy.
Our government has failed to take forceful measures
to protect its citizens.
While at the same time, bending over backwards
to placate the West Pakistan dominated government.
And to lessen any deservedly negative
international public relations impact against them.
Our government has evidence what many will consider
moral bankruptcy.
But we have chosen, not to intervene.
Even morally, on the grounds that the Awami conflict,
in which unfortunately
the over-worked term genocide is applicable,
is purely an internal matter of the sovereign state.
Private Americans have expressed disgust.
We, as professional civil servants express our dissent
with current policy
and fervently hope that our true and lasting interests here
can be defined and our politics redirected.
You know, I would really love for you to stay here.
I know.
Thank you.
But I can't.
I need to write what I have seen and
it might put you into trouble if I write sitting in your house.
Thank you for understanding.
You know I will not give up that easily.
I'll cause a ruckus in the corridors of power.
There is hope, Amir.
Take this.
Meet him. He'll know what to do.
Good-bye Kha-mi-da bibi
Good-bye Ba-arsh-in
You know son,
these people will always be here,
in their own village.
You will be able to find them whenever you want.
They don't need you anymore.
But we do.
Mariyam has a lot to learn from you
Yes.
And Razia also needs you
to help calm her baby.
Then a day will come, when you will return
amongst your people.
We will also come with you,
en route our village.
We will come together.
Come with us.
Good-bye Ro-ona aapa
You know that we are going to Charghat, don't you?
The same place you had promised your father to go to.
Said bye to everyone.
Alright.
Ok then,
may god be your guardian.
Kausar, why don't the two of you also come with us?
Why do you want to stay here alone?
Get up! Let's go.
Come on.
I will come along.
Rafiq! Come.
Please come.
In the darkness of our reality
we look for fragments of our existence
In the darkness of our reality
we look for fragments of our existence
With the touch of every breath
we hope for familiarity
We look for our reflections
and footprints in time
We look for our reflections
and our footprints in time
We are where we were
but our world has drifted away
Our own shadows have left us
Our shadows have left us
to become one with the night
Would you extend a hand
and listen to the woes of our hearts?
Soaked in tears
our faith is limp
In the darkness of our reality
we look for fragments of our existence
The moon light is drenched with
someone's sorrow yet again
The moon light is drenched with
someone's sorrow yet again
Once again a lonely cloud
has wandered from its course
A song that was not yet complete
has lost its tune along the way
A dream trickles from the eye
and shatters as it falls
Your memory is now
the only ray of hope
In the darkness of our reality
we look for fragments of our existence
A part of my heart still questions time
What disrespect did I show?
What was my sin?
The little story of our hearts
still remains unfinished
Why was this sadness
forced upon our smiles?
Why does my heart
feel this piercing pain?
In the darkness of our reality
we look for fragments of our existence
I 've said this many times before,
I don't like filth!
And then...
what's wrong in what I'm saying?
No.
Abstain from anger.
Anger is a sin.
Anger is the work of the devil.
Would you like to kill me?
I don't appreciate threats.
And I'm not one bit afraid of death.
But who can trust you and your mood swings?
A little annoyance and
game over!
Just divulge this one secret,
getting annoyed at every little thing
getting displeased, getting irked
where have you learnt all these traits?
Swear to the gods
I tolerate a lot of your tantrums.
Isn't it?
All right,
as you wish
I'm but a slave to your wishes.
No! Listen!
Now tell me,
what is it you like?
The waist?
Or would you like to go through her heart?
Dirty
Happy?
Dirty
Open it!
They are ashamed of this,
not of what they do in broad daylight.
You know Amir,
there are three breeds of men who come here.
First, the kind that imposes his manhood at gunpoint.
Second, those pretentious 'god men'
who call themselves Al Badr and Al Shams
and then, that patriotic snitch
who with all his loyalty, betrays the country!
The Pakistanis call them Razakars.
- What's the news? - The informer is here.
- If you say... - Listen to me.
If you don't give me good news...
I will kill you.
By creating them, the Jamaat-e-Islami in Pakistan,
had made it certain
that while the Al Badir makes every night darker,
the Al Shams will make sure that
every morning is stained with the colour of blood.
Kushtiya, Jinjira, Chittagong
It's the same story everywhere.
Sure the Mukti Bahini is fighting but,
how do we fight against guns and bullets
with just sticks and sickles?
We can fight with the pen.
They attacked me because
they were afraid of the power of my words.
Like me, they targeted journalists, teachers,
professors, scientists, thinkers
and all those who they felt threatened by.
Why?
Because they knew these were the real guardians of freedom.
We will have to instil this fear within their ranks again.
We should take out a newspaper.
We will tell the whole world about their cruelty.
And what will the world do?
The same thing that our friend,
Archer Blood's government did?
No one will listen, Amir.
The outside world does not care
and will the people here,
read the newspaper or save their lives?
The world is ignoring us today because
we are not important to them,
but the day we kill three or four of them
they will take note of us.
Our government has been formed.
What?
Last night in Boidanathola,
the Awami League formed the government.
- Really! - Yes!
Just got this information,
- great news isn't it? - Good news indeed.
Bongabondhu has been named the first president of Bangladesh
and have called for
Boidanathola to be named Mujibnagar.
Great!
Even Zia is with us now!
Now tell me Amir,
can you form a government
in such a short time with your pen?
Mojid Sahb!
Why Mojid Sahb?
What conspiracy are you plotting
behind these closed doors?
Mojid Sahb! I have told you so many times
to support true Islam,
support Pakistan.
Thirty years ago, when I picked you up
from a dumpster in Chittagong,
it didn't occur to me that one day,
you will teach me the values of Islam.
Mojid Sahb!
Your understanding of Islam is quite apparent
by the methods your Pakistani friends have adopted.
Do you think you own Islam?
Or does Allah belong only to Pakistan?
When night falls, flocks of birds return home.
For us it was a journey away
in the darkest period of our lives.
My eyes were witnessing this exodus for the second time
in their seventy years of existence.
Just a couple more hours
and we will reach Gopalpur.
From there, it's just two more days
to Charghat.
India begins and our journey ends.
Baba!
Pakistani!
Hide, hide here behind the trees.
You fool! Leave them here and hide.
Who is it?
It's been days since I smoked.
Right. Lets find a Bengali guy.
Look.
Oi!
Oi! Wait, wait, wait, wait...
Who is it?
Amazing! Not a person in sight.
Where do you think you're headed Mister?
Are you deaf?
Keep him quiet.
He doesn't say anything.
Speak up, devil's children.
Sir here, is a good man. He will escort you home.
He will get us all killed!
Just look at his bones,
they are looking so weak.
Say! Milk and cream is your wife's specialty...
I suggest you should savor them every day.
Otherwise one day, you might just disappear.
Disappear, my ass.
I bet they can still run at a 100 miles per hour.
Are you wearing tin glasses?
100 miles per hour...
I don't think they can even walk.
Then?
At best, they can crawl.
Really? Ok, let's bet.
For how much?
- 10 Rs. - 10!
Oi, I say you're a wealthy man.
Leave the wealth, you also take it out.
Come on, take it out.
- Here. - Give me.
Now that's what I'm talking about.
Now see, they won't run at a 100 miles per hour,
they'll run at 200!
- Is it? - Do you want to see?
- Show... - Come,
Come, come, come...
make sure to run, yeah?
Look now
Somebody stop them!
Where did they go?
Run, you fools...
Run!
You lose every time.
Oh no!
What have you done?
I lost because of these animals.
You!
Let them be.
There are many more, where they came from.
Lets go!
Raziya!
My parents house
no longer exists.
My hushand's house
burnt to ashes,
and my son died before knowing what a home is.
Where are we going in search of a home now?
Baba says, we will come back.
Come back and stay where?
Next to my son's grave?
Or my parents?
- Joi Bangla! - Joi Bangla!
Son, go and call them quickly.
Okay.
After spending the night in Gopalpur, we thought
we would leave for Charghat...
...but that ill-fated morning our hopes
were to suffer yet another blow.
- Raziya! - Raziya!
Between those merciless beheadings,
squirting blood and wailing women,
I saw innocence, die an innocent death.
Rafiq!
True to his word,
he did not let anything happen to his sister.
These muted pathways
wailing walls
and shutters to a window without a view
On annulled earth
He quivering gates
to the stench of burnt souls
The blood that flows
from a mother's breast
now lies lifeless
It will run through the gutters
and eventually clot
Blood is after all blood
it will eventually clot
Words dripping with blood
and tongues that brand these words
Whichever language it speaks
whatever faith it follows
blood is after all blood
it will eventually clot
The predators were our very own
their faces and their god our own
but where was this Lord?
Beyond the horizon
riding the clouds
making it rain blood
Blood!
Oh Lord, what have you created?
The earth is soaked in blood
Whose path is this?
Whose domain is this?
Where is that place where my home used to be?
Where is that place?
Why have we lost so many innocent lives?
Because of you!
I haven't done anything Mojid Sahb.
I'm right here.
But your allies are all there!
It's a shame.
I can't believe that people like you live in this country.
I had no one in my life,
I knew only you
and then, the teachers in the Madrasa.
It was you, who put me in the Madrasa, Mojid Sahb
I learnt whatever they taught me!
What else could I have done Mojid Sahb?
But after what happened in Gopalpur...
Allah will never forgive me...
Mojid Sahb, he...
If this malingerer wasn't like a son to me,
I might have even forgiven him.
Mojid Sahb...
If you help us, innocent lives can still be saved.
Give us the names of all your allies...
Bhitika! My child!
What are you looking at?
Help me.
In about two hours,
two Pakistani officers will pass by Kharkharia Mor,
and I have brought some flowers
to welcome them.
It will take about an hour to reach there.
Where? The camp?
Kharkharia Mor.
Oh! That means we've lost this opportunity.
No, not yet.
But we will... if your men don't hurry.
But you will not go alone...
Ashraf!
These three will go with you.
Joi Bangla!
I've never heard about you before.
It's best if you don't.
You are Amir, isn't it?
You know of me?
I used to read your articles very fondly.
You write well.
Used to write... I don't anymore.
If I hadn't read your articles,
I would never have had the courage to do this.
Where have you come from?
Hell.
Don't mind.
I really have come from hell.
My father was also very fond of your writing.
That day, he was making breakfast
and I was reading out the newspaper to him
when suddenly the door bell rang and...
anyway.
My father was a professor at the university
and very fond of fish.
Watch your step!
Where is your father now?
In heaven.
Oh! I am sorry.
Why?
I am the one who has come from hell.
Heaven is a good place, isn't it?
Amir! I feel no shame in sharing my story.
This is not just my story.
This is the story of every woman in Bangladesh.
From here on, we are going to write our story ourselves.
Will you pen our story?
Anyway...
I heard about you,
it distressed me.
Fida...
her name was Fida.
She's alive.
Dead!
Alive?
I must go back.
Tell Mojid Sahb,
I will be back with more ammunition and information.
Bhitika, stop!
Where have you seen her?
Somewhere in Dhaka!
She was nothing more than a living corpse.
Hope is a good thing Amir,
but it's best to let this one go.
Done with your bath?
Can I go?
Ok go.
Don't bathe so much, you'll grow old.
What? What are you looking at?
Bury her now,
and you'll do it alone.
She kept trying to wash the stains off her body,
without water or soap.
She had forgotten that
the stains were not on her body,
but had seeped through to her soul.
How could they be cleansed!
Her soul could only be cleansed with blood.
Just like the soil of Bangladesh.
Come, eat something.
It's been two days, since they've given us food.
Hurry up or it'll be over.
Here, eat this stale bread.
Go, get lost.
What will you eat love?
This is my food.
Here.
Do you want to see how they fight over bread?
Want to see?
Leave it!
Leave!
Leave it!
- It is my bread! - Leave it!
What about you?
I have eaten.
Eat a little more.
I saw your photograph today.
Keep eating.
We killed two Pakistani officers today.
Really!
I haven't lost my mind.
No, not at all. It's all right. Eat.
Look there.
The razakar at that gate,
stands watch every night.
Please him a bit...
and... he lets you go to the river to bathe.
Ok.
Yes,
but only the cleaning women like me.
I steal arms and ammunition from the armoury.
I haven't lost my mind Fida!
How do you know my name?
Amir told me.
Amir?
He is the one who showed me your photograph.
Amir is alive?
Thank God!
Amir is alive!
He is with the MuktiBahini.
It's for them, I took the ammunition.
Pakistan's days are numbered...
Does he know that I am here?
Everyone is fighting for Bangladesh
and he is fighting for you...
Fida.
He will surely come.
Will you meet him again?
I don't know. Maybe.
Maybe not.
Get up.
Haven't you eaten enough?
Meal time is over.
I felt like screaming my heart out.
We hadn't lost yet.
We were fighting.
Aamir was alive...
and looking for me.
What the...
You seem to be very happy.
Have you lost your mind?
Teacher used to say, all Muslims are brothers.
Why don't you check another guava?
I always knew he was lying.
No son, teacher never lied...
and not only Muslims, all men are brothers.
He must have told you the story of 'Adam and Hawa'.
We all are their children.
Not them.
They were demons, disguised in flesh and blood.
And teacher said that good always wins over evil.
I will fight them.
After the Bangla music presentation
on the 1st in America,
people are concentrating on the situation of Bangladesh.
That is all for today.
Stop.
Look back
and see.
If you don't look back, then how will you learn?
Look at what is happening.
See what is happening around you and learn.
Otherwise, time...
will repeat itself.
Stop!
Didn't I tell you to stop!
You think I am blind.
I can't see...
but don't forget who I am.
I am Durga. Durga!
My eyes
can see what you can't.
A shadow of doom...
Change it!
While you can...
Change it.
Who are you? What do you want?
Change it.
Why do you need to show a gun for that?
Who else is there?
Guests!
What did you say is the name of your village?
Rasoolpur.
Why don't you speak?
Yes, you.
How will I recognize you when we meet again?
I have to go to Charghat.
Go in the morning.
Eat properly.
Slowly.
Today marks an important date in world history,
because on this day,
our forefathers had
laid the foundations of a beautiful nation.
It is very sad,
that a few of our own people conspired
against our beautiful nation.
What can be more tormenting
to the souls of our forefathers
that today, we are forced to raise arms against
our own people, in our own country!
But remember,
conspiring against the nation will not be tolerated!
Remember,
we had sworn,
that even at the cost of our lives,
we will not let any harm come upon our pure motherland.
And today, we reiterate our vows,
that till the last drop of blood flows through our veins,
the people who conspire against this country,
the people who betray our country
and the enemies of our community and country
will never be allowed to succeed.
By the grace of god, victory will be ours!
Long Live Pakistan! Long Live Pakistan!
We will be victorious!
- We will be victorious! - We will be victorious!
We will be victorious,
because victory is our right!
Because justice is our right!
We will win undoubtedly,
because we have won before.
Raziul
Ghulam Mohammad
Sultan
Ali
Rehman
Quadir
Speak!
Ashraful
Shamsuddin
Imtiaz
Ansari
Rehman
Razizu
Khadir
Sultan
Abdullah...
I hope Malik's name is on that list, Mojid Sahb.
This is now your responsibility.
- Greetings, sir. - What is it?
Go away!
What?
Who are the Dhaka Guerillas?
How many members do they have?
Who all are involved?
Scoundrel!
You can't even find out one name!
No, sir!
No, sir.
Idiot!
Anger is a sin.
Joi Bangla!
- Did he say something? - No Sir.
Joi Bangla!
Who is your leader?
Bongabondhu, Sheikh Mujib.
Bongabondhu.
Your Bongabondhu is rotting in our jail!
(Making fun of Bengali)
You neither understand us, nor our language.
Who are you? Why are you here?
You fool!
Why are we here!
We are here, to show you your rightful place.
It's your time today,
but tomorrow, it'll be ours.
The day we Bengali's
stand on your border
and urinate,
all of Pakistan will be flooded!
Speak in Urdu!
Speak in Urdu...
Then tell your Jamaatis to go swim in it.
Don't be afraid,
these people are losing.
Bangladesh is coming!
Goodbye.
A forest on the other side of the river,
and Charghat just beyond that.
Baba!
It's not too far now...
Charghat.
Why Charghat?
Who? Who are you?
Bangladesh!
Bangladesh?
We are all Bangladesh. All us women!
And if Pakistan thinks it can ravage Bangladesh,
the way they ravaged our bodies...
then they are wrong!
We must get to India, son.
India.
Charghat.
Bangladesh is everywhere.
Beside the river of pain,
and
beyond the boat of hope.
The Bangladesh of tomorrow,
this
young soldier's Bangladesh.
Have you lost your mind?
Stop screaming.
We have reached.
I hope no one saw you coming here.
No.
I'll go outside and keep an eye.
Will Amir be there?
Maybe. If he is then what should I say?
Don't tell him you met me.
Why?
I don't want him to accept me out of pity.
What has happened with you, me or anyone else,
is not our fault.
If he acts pitiful or does not accept you,
then he was never worthy of you.
Take my hair out.
Come back soon.
Stop.
Sir.
What are you doing?
Go on.
Stop.
This is Pakistan growing in your wombs.
You used to go on about your Bangladesh.
Now tell me if your Bangladesh will...
how do they say it in English?
What is it?
Yes.
Accept.
Even your family will not accept you now!
Let's go. - Yes Sir.
Move along.
You want to go again?
Why are you in such a hurry to grow old?
I'll come soon.
By then you would have grown old.
You are young now, just right for me.
Let's go inside.
Won't it be better if I am clean?
Don't throw tantrums. Come inside.
- Let me go... - Come on!
- You fool! - Come here!
Who are you?
Get up!
- Bring him. - Sir.
I didn't do anything.
Bring him here.
- Sir? - Move!
Move!
What did I do?
What have I done?
What is going on here?
I didn't do anything Sir.
In fact, I am the one who caught her.
I didn't do anything Sir.
I didn't do anything Sir!
Sir I didn't do anything!
Sir!
Bring them all out,
let them learn.
Come on out everyone!
Hey, come on.
Do demons come from hell?
Yes,
they had come from hell.
They,
had come to rob us of our freedom.
If they ever come in front of me,
I will free them forever!
No son!
Don't think like that.
In a few days,
we will reach Charghat.
If anything happens to me on the way,
don't stop.
Keep walking.
Don't ever leave your mother and sister, all right?
What will happen to you Abbu?
Nothing will happen to you,
I am not a child anymore.
I won't let anything happen to you.
Why don't you talk to me?
We are almost about to reach India.
Do you think we will be happy in India?
Baba had said...
I know what Baba had said.
H e used to say that every girl gets married
and has to leave someday,
I have had to leave before getting married.
I am with you.
I will get you married.
Where?
In India?
Why?
Who says we cannot come back?
You wait here,
I'll just come back...
Where were you?
Are you all right?
What will happen to me?
Should we leave?
Find out about these Dhaka guerillas.
We don't have a single name!
How many members are there,
who are the people involved?
I am repeating my orders.
Shoot the rebels at sight.
Yes, sir.
Not even one person should be left alive!
Where is everyone?
Go and check.
You are making a mistake.
Mr. Journalist!
You are still alive?
We will ask the questions today.
I will let you go.
Just tell me where my wife is.
In the same place,
where your Bangladesh is.
Neither will you get your wife,
nor your Bangladesh!
Your reign is over.
You have lost.
MuktiBahini and the Indian forces
have reached Chandpur.
Nothing has changed.
Who will save you from your own people?
Islam,
Allah,
and the people of Pakistan,
have nothing to do with your barbarity!
Don't you heartless people understand,
that your power hungry leaders Yahya, Tikka and Bhutto
planned all of this!
You thought you will scare us into submission,
but the methods you chose to use,
forced a journalist like me to pick up arms!
You will surely be punished for your crimes.
Nothing will happen.
The whole world will stop you.
You cannot punish every soldier for the orders
given by a superior officer!
A soldier only follows orders.
Hitler's soldiers also tried to
hide behind the same plea.
But even today, they are being condemned!
Hitler did not have the support of
the American Government.
Come out of your dream world.
Let's say,
your Bangladesh comes to existence,
then?
What will you gain?
In a few years, your own leaders
will fight each other for dominion.
In the race for power there will be lobbying, politics,
bribery, corruption
will you be able to stop it?
Even if you catch the small fish, so what?
What about the real crocodiles?
That are hiding amongst you.
How will you find them?
What about our Al Badr and Razakars?
They will continue to do what they are doing today.
The bribery and the corruption that you are talking about,
exists in every country in some form or the other.
But we will make sure to uproot the very seed
of moral corruption that you tried to sow here.
For the last time,
tell me where Fida is!
Forget about her.
Don't you remember
two held her hands
and two held her thighs.
How she cried,
how she screamed.
But she was good
and many more after me...
Malik was right.
Even today,
forty-two years after our independence,
we are not free.
Even today,
disguised amongst us in flesh and blood,
the evil roams free.
Even today,
we live in hell.
And the gatekeepers of this hell
are the same razakaars that stole our paradise
from us forty-two years ago.
Chandipur, Jessore, Chittagong have been liberated.
Tomorrow night at 9 o'clock,
One contingent of the MuktiBahini
will attack the cantonment from the front.
We will attack them from behind.
What happens next, will be decided there itself.
Your tea is getting cold.
I don't feel like it.
Are you still with us?
Or did your war end this morning?
What do you think?
Amir, I understand what you are going through.
This is the last push.
The last fight.
Once we have won,
we will all look for your Fida.
We will surely find her.
The Bangladesh of tomorrow will not wield weapons,
but a pen.
That will be our real Bangladesh!
Then, let's go.
Dark clouds
are getting ready to adorn the horizon.
Heart in hand,
steer your boat with utter care,
o boatman...
so the boat sink not,
in trying to reach the bank.
The river bank could not be reached.
Dark clouds
are getting ready to adorn the horizon.
In the city of Dhaka
at the Rangbazaar,
where buying and selling of colours takes place,
we are the financiers of
Madangunj today.
Tie not the boat on those banks
we couldn't reach the river banks.
Dark clouds
are getting ready to adorn the horizon.
- O Radharaman. - Sister, let's go.
- I went to the river, - Sister.
thinking I would cross the river today.
I had made up my mind.
But my day went past.
I couldn't find
- the other shore. - Joi Bangla!
- Joi Bangla!
O Radharaman.
I went to the river,
thinking I would cross the river today.
I had made up my mind.
But my day went past.
I couldn't find
the other shore.
Dark clouds
are getting ready to adorn the horizon.
Dark clouds
are getting ready to adorn the horizon.
Stop!
Dark clouds
Stop!
Are getting ready to adorn the horizon.
Dark clouds
are getting ready to adorn the horizon.
Abu, he's looking at me!
Dark clouds
Joi Bangla!
Run!
Didi!
Its not about an eye for an eye.
It's also not just about revenge.
This is about justice.
The society, which does not punish the guilty,
suffers the death of innocence.
Till the murderer is not punished for his misdeeds
every nook and corner of humanity will suffer.
I'm sorry,
but this is also not just about murder.
This is about brutality,
This is about conspiracy,
betrayal and treachery with the country!
These people have trampled
over the very concept of motherhood.
These people have stolen the dreams of the innocent.
They have divided us by language.
They have even divided our Allah,
into their god and our god.
Why should we not punish them?
Till the time we don't punish them,
we will not be free.
Malik might have been right in his belief...
but now, it is time to prove him wrong.
H e had said that their blood would flow
through this generation's veins,
but he was wrong.
I...
I am a Birangona's grandson
but their stale blood does not flow
through my veins.
My blood is as red as it gets for Bangladesh...
and my Bangladeshi blood
is screaming out for justice.
It wants unconditional freedom.
The kind of freedom.
I have seen in my grandfather's eyes.
And today I repeat to you what he taught me,
I am first a Bangladeshi,
then a Bengali
and then a Muslim.
- Joi Bangla! - Joi Bangla!