“Smoke everywhere “Just smoke everywhere “Smoke everywhere “Just smoke everywhere “In these winds of conspiracies “In these storms of intrigue “This hallowed earth of the gods “has been bloodied “We hear no more
the sacred call of the conch “And no more the call to the faithful “Alas, my land is cursed “Why are these people fleeing? “Why are these homes burning? “Smoke everywhere “Just smoke everywhere “Who set fire “to these tender fields of grass? “A desperate longing for life “is written on every corpse “This is a battle for power “A war between politicians “The blood of innocents “is the colour used “to draw borders “between our hearts” Stop, Gurdeep. Don’t move, don’t breathe. What’s wrong, Sir-ji? Look, look ahead.
Do you see anything? Dead bodies, anything? – No, Sir-ji.
– Somebody blew up an empty shikara. Idiot! What are you standing on? – On a plank, Sir-ji.
– What’s under it? – Some wires, Sir-ji.
– Want to know what it is, “Sir-ji?” You’re standing on an IED. Know what will happen if you move?
You will be blown to bits. – Head there, legs here.
– I’m sorry, Sir-ji. Fool! You run ahead of your wits. – Avinash, everyone out. Out!
– Come on, out! – Avinash, out!
– Yes, sir. – Scared, Gurdeep?
– I’m remembering my God, Sir-ji. – Sir-ji?
– Yes. I need to pee. So, pee. Without moving. – Done?
– Yes, Sir-ji. – Feel lighter?
– Yes, Sir-ji. Good. Now jump so fast
that before the bomb bursts… …you hit the water.
– I can’t swim, Sir-ji. – Then you’re done for, “Sir-ji.”
– Really, Sir-ji? – I can’t save you.
– What are you saying, Sir-ji? – No way out?
– None whatsoever. – Avinash.
– Yes, sir. Tell all these men to step back. – If something happens, sir…
– Take care of this. It’s not police property,
it’s my own. Now, move. Move! Down! Come, Gurdeep. You’re great, sir. No talk of my greatness to Nilu, okay? – Yes, sir.
– Go. Why must you always be the hero?
If something had happened… What could I do? Let my man die? If not of yourself,
think of Neelima and Irfan. If Neelima finds out,
she’ll hang you. Not me, friend. You’re the one in trouble. – Me? Why?
– Why weren’t you at Irfan’s birthday? You know what a doctor’s life is. With this new spate of firecrackers
in Kashmir… …a dozen or so like you
show up to be treated daily. Present this defence to Neelima.
You are to come to Sunday lunch. That’s her fatwa. Yet another fatwa to be observed. This is the season of fatwas in Kashmir. There’s one issued by Malik-ul-Khan: “Any doctor who treats a policeman
will be transferred directly to God.” I’ll kill Malik-ul-Khan a hundred times
before he dares to touch you. For now, protect yourself
by being on time for Sunday’s lunch. Good-bye. – Good-bye.
– Come, Avinash. Allah! Your heart is going, boom-boom. Pardon my insolence, Madam Doctor,
my heart isn’t there. It is here. Where is this sound coming from? My stomach growling with hunger. As if I’m keeping you hungry.
Dinner is ready. You go eat. I’ll tell the patients that
Doctor-saab will be with them shortly. No, it could be an emergency. – Greetings, Dr. Akhtar.
– Please come in. Would the patient sit here, please? What’s the problem? What can I say, Doctor-saab?
A strange passion has overcome me. I know neither hunger nor thirst. Only one word rings in my ears: Freedom, freedom, freedom. Look, I’m a doctor.
How am I to help you in this… You could have… …but you didn’t. I am saddened
that educated people like you… …treat Kashmir’s independence
with such indifference. Sorry, have we met before? – You don’t recognize me?
– No. You don’t recognize me? Look! Saw? He’s Malik-ul-Khan, you traitor. It’s his home. Let it be. So you didn’t recognize me
but you knew of my fatwa. Then why did you treat SSP Khan? I’m a doctor. To treat the sick is my duty. Duty, is it? God have mercy! See what Dr. Akhtar made me do? I walked 40 miles to meet him. If I took no action… …then people would say: “Malik-ul-Khan just talks… “…the way politicians do.
He doesn’t act.” What could I do? Kashmir’s independence demands martyrs. Irfan! Yes, Mrs. Khan. What are you doing up there?
Come down. – Okay, I will.
– Irfan, what are you doing? – I’m coming down.
– Not that way. Go inside. You told me to come down,
so that’s what I’m doing. – From inside! Irfan, please.
– Don’t worry, Ammi. I’m strong. – You’ll fall, Son.
– I won’t, Ammi. No, Son, go in. – Ammi!
– Irfan! – Irfan, open your eyes.
– I’m all right. – Talk to me, Son.
– I’m fine, Ammi. Are you okay, Son? The patient’s condition is serious. Khan-saab. Khan-saab. He’s fine. It’s just a bruise.
The doctor will tend to it. How? The doctor refuses
to even touch him. – Doctor, my son Irfan.
– I’m sorry. Malik-ul-Khan’s fatwa… You’re safe. I’ll see that
the whole police force protects you. Please treat my son. You know Dr. Akhtar’s fate.
I can’t take the risk. Malik-ul-Khan… Before Malik-ul-Khan gets to you,
I’ll kill you myself! Go ahead. Kill me.
At least my family will be saved. They don’t even spare wives and children. Irfan, open your eyes. Irfan! What are you doing? – Where’s the ICU?
– Straight ahead, first right. He’s not opening his eyes! Nobody is here! Where are the doctors? Nurse! Nurse! – Where are the doctors?
– Nobody’s on duty. – Please do something.
– Nothing will happen, nothing. Doctor, my son is badly hurt.
He fell from a window and injured his head. Please check him. Sir, the fatwa? Everything will be fine. I’m sorry, Mr. Khan. – What happened?
– Nothing. What has happened to my son? Why did you turn off the light? Nurse, put on the light! Put the lights on! Khan-saab, wake him. Please. “Sleep, my lovely moonchild
Sleep, my prince “Come to the world of dreams “The sleep fairies are here “wearing anklets on their feet “They’ll waft you away “on their soft wings “for a stroll in the land of sleep” Our informer says Malik-ul-Khan’s men
were seen near Hazratbal last evening. Today, not long ago,
they moved north in shikaras. There’s a wedding in this village. If he stops there tonight, we can cover him
from here, cordon him off… …approach over the water and get him. I’m certain that Malik-ul-Khan
will spend the night in this village. “Bumblebee, dark-hued bumblebee “What garden do you come from?” – Where is Altaaf?
– Over there. “Bumblebee, dark-hued bumblebee “What garden do you come from?” Altaaf, you here alone? I’m dancing
over there and you are painting over here? The song will be over soon.
Come on, Altaaf. Or I won’t talk to you. Come on, you can paint anytime. Come on. What are you looking at, son? The guns? Who is this drenched prince? My son, Altaaf. Altaaf. I’m Sufi, Sufiya Parvez. What’s your name? You don’t know me? Malik-ul-Khan is my name,
soldier for Kashmir’s independence. – You’ve heard of me, yes?
– Sufi, go home. It’s late. – But Altaaf and l…
– Listen to your elders. Go. Child, come here. Come to me. Come. Sit. What are you looking at? It’s called a Kalashnikov, child. These are all toys.
There’s great fun in this game. Want to play? You won’t play? Come, play. No? – Come here, kids.
– What is it? Come quickly. – Here, firecrackers.
– Give me some. – Me, too.
– Sure, here. – I’ll set off the first one.
– No, I will. Let’s all do it together. The food is really tasty. Did you cook so well out of love for us
or in fear of our guns? It’s the wedding.
They’re setting off firecrackers. We are at a feast, too. Except we are uninvited guests
at Nazir Hassan’s. – Ammi, can we go out to play?
– Absolutely not. Let them, Madam. In the joy of children
we hear nature’s laughter. Go, children, play. Brother, I forgot my doll. I just blindly killed
whoever came in my way. Who was a militant, who was not,
I couldn’t see anything. You didn’t do it knowingly. In your place,
maybe I’d have done the same. I sometimes think: “Why did I pull on that vine?” If I had let him play… …today Irfan would be here, with us. I was the one who took his life. I killed him. Not knowingly, Nilu. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Where is that boy? Can’t we bring him to our home? He didn’t see you. He was staring at me. Your face was covered by a mask. It could be anyone behind that mask.
Anybody. Not you. Listen. God has given us an opportunity.
He’ll have a home and… …we’ll find our son. We’ll get a son, but how?
Through a lie? Through deceit? By hiding from him that I killed
his mother and father? That I robbed him of everything? – What are you saying?
– We’ll only have to lie if he asks. At least bring him home. What he’s lost, I’ll restore to him.
I’ll love him more… …than I loved Irfan.
More than his own parents did. He won’t lack anything. And we won’t deceive him. When he’s older, able to understand… …we’ll tell him the truth. Everything. Please. Bring him here. The child’s traumatized,
hasn’t spoken or eaten for two days. He has no surviving relatives. He’s in deep shock.
It seems like he can’t hear anything either. – Where’s the boy?
– Locked in the cell. You hold a child in a cell, you fool? Sorry, Sir-ji. Altaaf. Let’s go, son. What’s your name? If you don’t tell us,
you think we won’t find out? Altaaf is your name, right? Come, I’ll show you your room. Altaaf, eat some coconut biscuits. Khan-saab brought them. He used to bring coconut biscuits
every day. He loved them. He’d run to the door and grab them
from Khan-saab. He’d play cricket in the garden.
Morning to evening… …not stopping even when I scolded him. I’d call him for dinner.
He’d say, “I’ll eat later.” He’d say,
“Ammi, let me play or I’ll run away.” Now he’s run so far away… …that he’ll never come back. I’m hungry. Let’s eat. Here, let me. What was his name? Irfan. Is this his shirt? Did he sit here? No. Here. Next to me. “Sleep, my lovely moonchild
Sleep, my prince “Come to the world of dreams “The sleep fairies are here “wearing anklets on their feet “They’ll waft you away “on their soft wings “for a stroll in the land of sleep “These beauties who dazzle heaven “In their land you’ll be a guest “And they’ll tell you new stories “and dance and sing with you “Sleep, my lovely moonchild
Sleep, my prince “Come to the world of dreams “The sleep fairies are here “wearing anklets on their feet “They’ll waft you away “on their soft wings “for a stroll in the land of sleep” Then? Then, I don’t remember when I fell asleep. We aren’t able to forget Irfan. Altaaf is a child.
How can he forget what happened? He won’t until we put aside our grief. – It’s not that easy, Nilu.
– Maybe, but… …it’s not forgotten. It’s just hidden. Sweet, isn’t he?
He was just 5 months old. However much I combed his hair,
it never stayed in place. Madcap! “Far from this earth
somewhere across the seven seas “Amidst distant skies
is the world of dreams “That is the land of love
where there is love, only love “My darling moon, go there
The fairies are waiting for you” I kept this for you to see. Sweet, isn’t it? A snow-covered field,
a wooden bridge, a pink house. Why is your name Neelima? Why not? My mother gave it to me. – But it’s a Hindu name.
– Yes. She is a Hindu. Then how did you get married? Like everyone else. Come here. If her name wasn’t Neelima but Salma,
would she be different? I loved her and I married her,
not her name or her religion. Was I wrong? – Did I do something wrong?
– No. You’re out. Go and bowl, kid. Abba is cheating, Ammi. You’re out. Give me the bat. You’re out. – What did you say?
– You’re cheating. – Before that.
– You’re out. Let go! – What did you tell Ammi?
– To Ammi? – That you’re cheating.
– Before that, Altaaf. Why do you keep asking? Let go. Abba, bowl! Abba, whose face are you gawking at? Abba, bowl! I’m not out! Do you know anything about cricket? I’m not out. I’ll tell Ammi. – You’re out, Son.
– I won’t talk to you anymore. Ammi, tell Abba to bowl. Are you dreaming? Altaaf has been asking you to bowl. Abba, bowl. Go on! Today he called me Abba. Six months after calling me Ammi. So what? At least he said, “Abba.” You know, when he said that,
I remembered Irfan. And then? You came. Then? Then what? Then… This is the first time
we’ve left Altaaf alone. I wonder if he’s eaten or not. – He must have. Don’t worry.
– We were out too late. Maybe he’s sleeping. Next time, we’ll take him with us. Nilu, my revolver? What are you doing? Hilal. Hilal Kohistani. – And he is Hamid.
– Rampuria. No, sir. I’m from Muradabad. Both are in India, anyway. They say that in Afghanistan… …when the Soviets heard your name,
they fled their tanks? Never mind names. Let’s talk about work. Mission Kashmir. – This task…
– Will be done. – Price?
– Don’t worry about money. You execute our mission and
we’ll pay any price you demand. Since 1947, all the attacks on India
have been government-organized. We owe allegiance to no government.
We’re an independent group. We are soldiers for freedom. More Muslims live in India
than in Pakistan. Once our mission succeeds,
they too will join us in our jihad. And our unknown group will become… …the most illustrious of mujahideen militia
the world over. In 1971, India changed the map of Asia.
Now, we’ll change the shape of India. A great victory entails a great sacrifice. The reward is great too, God willing. Ten million… …dollars. Twenty million. To give money for jihad
is as virtuous as giving alms. But even the name of this mission
can’t go beyond these walls, Hilal. Secrets buried in a Pathan’s heart
don’t emerge even on Judgment Day. You take care of your people. We’ve organized arms and ammunition. TV camera, tapes and technical support
will be provided as needed. If you need anything else… I need a companion
who isn’t afraid of death. Who so despises his own existence… …that I can fire him like a missile… …to destroy the target and himself. – A man like that…
– I have such a man. My child… …Altaaf. And where is your Altaaf now? Crossing the border into India. Don’t take my life. I don’t want your life,
only your Jeep and wireless. And, yes… …thank you. I’m from the BSF check post
to meet SSP Khan. You mean IG, saab? Upstairs, to the right. Thank you. The STF Army coordination meeting
is postponed. Go to Kothibag station
and meet the officer there. – I’m here to meet IG Khan.
– Yes, sir. – Who was he?
– A BSF guy, sir. They’re ten years behind the times.
Came to meet SSP Khan! SSP Khan? Stop it! Stop it! – You okay?
– Double-okay. Just a scratch, Sir-ji. Why are you sitting in the dark?
What happened? Altaaf is back. Altaaf? Where is he? How is he? He must have grown up.
How does he look? – I didn’t see him.
– Why? He was wearing a mask. Mask? He was the man… …who shot at me today. How do you know it was Altaaf? His eyes, the same eyes. He’s a child, blinded by anger. – His heart is broken.
– I know, Nilu. I’m the one who broke it. Stand straight, all of you. You all look like you’re real Indian soldiers.
Kabus, you look good. Cut the jokes. Can’t you see I’m working? Later. – Hey, Number-man.
– Yes? Change vehicles, not just number-plates,
or you’ll get caught one day. Kahvah? No, thank you. Bilal, kahvah? – Sadiq, kahvah?
– Don’t want any. Altaaf-bhai, kahvah for you? It’s not from Muzafarbad.
Ghafoor made it. Drink it and be renewed. – Muhammed, kahvah?
– Later. Mushtaq, got a letter? First, they shamed my mother.
So I picked up a gun and came here. Now across the border
they have done the same with my sister. – Courage, Mushtaq.
– Bashir, kahvah? No. Hashim, kahvah? – I don’t want your kahvah!
– You like nothing, man. Sadiq, why do you keep weeping? Instead of boring athletics,
watch some song and dance. Khan is on TV.
Altaaf-bhai, Khan is on TV. I want to tell those misguided
young men just this: Throw away your guns… …and return to your homes. Because we don’t want
any Kashmiri mother… …to suffer the loss of a son again. But the uniforms of the police are
stained with blood too, Khan-saab. If our police force picks up guns,
it is only to save Kashmir. On June 23, 1989, at Dalgate… …your task force killed a whole family
to nab one militant. A 6-year-old girl was also killed.
Do you recall that, sir? When bullets are flying at you,
you are forced to fire back. That’s all I have to say. Thank you, Mr. Khan. We were talking to Kashmir Police’s
IG Inayat Khan… …who was recently the target
of a terrorist attack. From Kashmir Today,
I am Sufiya Parvez. Sufi. This is the Srinagar Centre
of All India Radio, and I am Sufiya Parvez. Altaafl What are you doing there?
The program is starting and you… If we are all in the program,
who’ll watch? All right, don’t comel Forget itl Today, on our musical program… …you’ll hear the Kashmiri folk song
Bumblebee. “Bumblebee, dark-hued bumblebee” I’ve come to meet Sufiya Parvez. “What garden do you come from?” Take off the jacket. “Bumblebee, dark-hued bumblebee “What garden do you come from?” Take off your jacket! “Bumblebee, black bumblebee “You bring happiness with you “On this wedding night
you come bearing gifts “You bring the colour of kohl
to ward off the evil eye “From gardens you bring flowers
to adorn our lanes “Yes, you bring the colour of kohl
to ward off the evil eye “From gardens you bring flowers
to adorn our lanes “Come, let’s sing
in the shadow of the henna tree “Let’s sway and dance,
play music, celebrate! “The henna has bloomed red
like flowers on these fair palms “Yes, the henna has bloomed red
like flowers on these fair palms “This is the colour of sunlight
the colour of shadows “This is not the colour of henna
It’s the colour of a mother’s blessing “The colour of this henna is true
All others are false “May this colour never fade
from your hands “Bumblebee, dark-hued bumblebee “What garden do you come from? “Bearing the wishes of the heart
in the palanquin of the moon “This night of henna has come
lit by a heavenly light “Bearing the wishes of the heart
in the palanquin of the moon “This night of henna has come
lit by a heavenly light “On the faces of the bride’s friends
is the glow of dreams “They all asked for blessings
which the Lord gladly gave “Is this henna on our hands
or the red glow of evening? “Bearing the wishes of the heart
in the palanquin of the moon “This night of heaven has come
lit by a heavenly light “On the faces of the bride’s friends
is the glow of dreams “They all asked for blessings
which the Lord gladly gave “Is this henna on our hands
or the red glow of evening? “This wondrous night comes
bringing the moon and the stars” – Who are you? Why are you here?
– You called me. Me? Are you crazy?
When did I call you? Some nine or ten years ago.
How quickly you forget. Nine or ten years ago? I said, “If we are all in the program,
who’ll watch?” Forgive me, Sufi, I’m a little late in coming. Altaaf? This is Sufi Parvez’s office. Like it? Lovely, yes? Srinagar TV’s director was chief guest
at my college’s annual function. Like everyone, he loved my dancing. On stage, when he handed me
the first prize… …I started chatting with him.
And he said: “Sufi, you have as much zip in your talk
as zap in your dance.” I said, “That’s true.” He said, “Why not work at our TV station?”
I said yes, so here I am. From that day on,
Srinagar TV is Sufiya Parvez! Stop staring at yourself and look at this. Abba and Ammi. They looked all over for you. When they couldn’t find you,
they told me that… But I never believed them.
I knew that as long as… …Shankracharya and
Hazratbal were intact… …nothing could happen to my Altaaf. Still standing? Why don’t you sit? Sir, this is Sufiya Parvez’s chair.
Tell me, where did you go off to? I didn’t go anywhere. The police took me. To jail? An orphanage. Then a police officer took me home
as his adopted son. Why didn’t you visit me? I was going to, but that very week
he was transferred to Assam. Why didn’t you write to me? I did. I wrote many letters… …some on paper, some in my heart. But I couldn’t mail them. Why? No post office in your Assam? I was afraid. What if there was no reply? Then? I’d have thought that you… That Sufi had died and gone to heaven? Even if I’d gone to heaven,
I’d have left you my address. There’s another place people go
besides heaven… To hell? I’d never go there. You worry about yourself.
Show me your hand. My hand? I won’t bite it, I’ll just read it. Don’t read it. Do you fear your future tomorrows? No, my desolate yesterdays. My hell. Why talk like that? Now that
you’re here, I’ll take you back… …to our childhood in a shikara.
And heaven will return. You also used to run, Sadiq? Cross-country. No one was faster
than me in the entire valley… …perhaps in all of India.
But I couldn’t run for Kashmir. Why? Because… …I couldn’t run faster than a bullet. Stop it, guys, it’s midnight. Sorry, Zubair-bhai,
I was watching the race. Patience. I’ll shoot your face,
put it on the winner’s body. You can watch that endlessly
and be happy. Now be quiet. Zubair-bhai, you sleep
with your camera beside you? Why not? Don’t you sleep
with your missile? You’re an expert at missiles.
I’m expert with films. Wars aren’t won only by missiles.
They’re won by cameras, too. How? You’ll see my miracles
when we win our great victory. Now let me sleep, buddy. – Good night, Altaaf-bhai.
– Good night, Sadiq. Altaaf! What’s wrong? Nothing. – You’re hiding something from me.
– Hiding? No. Sir, my name is Sufiya Parvez and
nobody can hide anything from me. Sufi, believe me, I’m not hiding anything. Oh, go on, tell me. Give your tragedy to me, sir. You know, Sufi… …after ten years you are sitting
in front of me… …you’re near me… …but I can’t feel your presence. After ten years, I am in a shikara… …but I don’t feel anything. There is such beauty all around… …but I can’t see it. What do you see? I see smoke, Sufi… …all around me. And in the smoke, bullets fired blindly. People dying. Their screams. Corpses, shards of flesh and bone.
A disembodied head… Look with my eyes, Altaaf. Listen with my ears. Listen to the sound of the oars. “Listen quietly to the beat of this moment “In this moment is life
All of it “The world of dreams is right here “Look with my eyes “Listen quietly to the beat of this moment “In this moment is life
All of it “The world of dreams is right here “Look with my eyes “The dense smoke is parting “The fog is lifting “Look, now the light of heaven “falls everywhere “The glowing earth, the blue sky “A shikara floating on the waters “The world of dreams is right here “I saw it with your eyes “Listen quietly to the beat of this moment “Love has worked its strange magic on me “My gaze doesn’t move from your face “Nobody is here but us “Only this feeling of love “A sudden gust of fragrance perfumes us “And we know nothing, nothing but us “Far away the wedding music sounds
and memory becomes a bride “And on your chest I rest my head
I rest my head “The world of dreams is right here “I saw it with your eyes “The dense smoke “is parting “The fog is lifting “Look, now the light of heaven “falls everywhere” Time, jihad and death wait for no man. – Day after tomorrow.
– Not day after, but tomorrow. Tomorrow is IG Khan’s birthday. Yes. And this is his present? Yes. Sadiq, hold this. Now we have to get this map
to IG Khan… …so that he assembles all his forces
down here at Chinar Baug… …and our work up here will be easy. A good plan, child.
But how will you get there? I’ve taken care of that. I even went there today. How? With the help of a friend. During jihad, a warrior only has
friendships with men, child. Women are soft-hearted.
They can’t keep secrets. – That girl…
– She’s ignorant of our plans. Five men will accompany me. Apart from Ali and Ghafoor,
you, you and you, Zubair. That girl loves you. You use her like this? He who walks the path of jihad
leaves all relationships behind. God is great. He is our ruler. If those infidels find this map
on the body of a dead militant… …what will they think? They’ll at once believe the map. Where will we find such a body? We’ll manage. Anyway, with this missing leg
how far can you walk with us? With warriors like Sadiq… …we cannot lose this war. Sadiq said, “If this map is found
on a dead militant’s body… “…the soldiers won’t suspect us.” He picked up the gun
and sacrificed himself for our jihad. We won’t let his offering go to waste. Your friend gave his life for jihad.
You must win this war. Before his body becomes cold… …take it, with the map, to Anantnag. Be careful! You’re late! The concert is about to start. Sorry, Sufi, I was delayed. The last time I called you to a program,
you were ten years late. Glad it wasn’t 20 this time!
Where were you? – My friends heard I was coming…
– You should’ve brought them along. I did. Security won’t admit them. Good! Let them stay out there.
You’ll look like a fool. – But you said…
– Bring your friends? We’ve a problem, Altaaf. New rules. Now you have to pay
fees to admit your friends. – Fees?
– Yes, fees. How much? – How many friends?
– Five. Five? Why not ten? For five the fees will be… And you. Six. This is for being ten years late. I love you so much, Sufi.
Come what may, I’ll always love you. – Forever.
– Forever? Come what may? Sufi, time can change… Altaaf, we can’t talk about time now.
The concert is about to start. If you’ll let go of me,
I’ll bring your friends in. – Hello.
– Hello? TV tower? I’m at the centre, extension 22. The live concert is about to air,
but there’s a wiring problem. We’ve sent engineers. But time’s running out.
Please hurry up the repairs. Thank you. Give the phone to IG Khan-saab, please.
Tell him it’s urgent. He’s praying. I’ll hold on. – Open your mouth.
– Why? – You don’t remember?
– Remember what? – Yes, it’s your birthday!
– Wonderful, you remember everything. How could I forget? How could I think you would?
You! Forget? Impossible. 23rd September, my birthday?
How would you forget? What’s the date today? June 5th. Whose birthday? Whose? Mine? Congratulations! Your memory is improving day by day.
Should we get help? We could go to Lucknow
to your father’s for some… Remember? Never mind that. What a beating you got
from my dad because of this ru-ba-ru. Of course I did.
After all, I’m a simple Kashmiri. Without thinking,
I jumped out of your window. Got badly hurt, didn’t you? And you gave me the medicine.
See, it still hurts. Really? Two hard slaps
and it’ll clear right up. – Some Lucknowi treatment?
– Medicine? Sorry, sir, Altaaf on the line. Where are you calling from, Altaaf? IG Khan-saab. It’s your birthday today
and we are celebrating. Where are you, Altaaf? Be at Shankracharya at 10:00 sharp.
We’ve arranged fireworks for you… …the kind you’ve never seen before.
Good-bye. Altaaf, quick. The concert is starting. Where are my friends? In the canteen, eating samosas. Who are you? How did you get in? What are you doing? Last night the BSF killed a militant.
They found this in his pocket. “Flowers will sweetly scent the air
once more “The seasons of fragrance will come
once more “On the branches of the chinar tree
once more “Birds will build nests “And those who have fled from these paths “will return “And again in these bylanes of heaven “Everyone will sing this happy song “Let the sweet notes of harmony mingle “I’ve come to sing a song of love “To embrace the whole world
with one melody “To wipe out hatred in every heart “Come, friends, sing with me “I’ve come to sing a song of love “To embrace the whole world
with one melody “To wipe out hatred in every heart “Come, friends, sing with me “To win over people “To win over hearts “Sing a beautiful song “Play the music of friendship “Let go of hatred “To win over people “To win over hearts “Sing a beautiful song “Play the music of friendship “Let go of hatred “Come, friends, sing with me” Move! Move! Move! Come on, quickly. “Music is a sweet rain “That turns dying autumn into spring “No wall can hold back music “Music leaps across borders “Music is a sweet rain “That turns dying autumn into spring “No wall can hold back music “Music leaps across borders “Music knows no caste and creed “Music contains the whole universe “Music has no language “Music has within it the truth
of the Gita and the Koran “Music has in it Allah and Ram “Music has in it all of creation “Music knows no caste and creed “Music contains the whole universe “Music has no language “Music has within it the truth “Music has in it Allah and Ram “Music has in it all of creation “Music turns away storms “Music mends broken hearts” Khan-saab, come in, Khan-saab. – Altaaf?
– How did you like my painting? – Altaaf, where are you?
– I’m not like you, Khan-saab. I don’t kill children. – Where are you, Altaaf?
– Look towards Shankracharya. Your birthday firecrackers
are about to go off. Happy birthday. Abba! – Pahalgam calling Gulmarg, over.
– Yes. – Pahalgam calling Gulmarg, over.
– I’m getting you. Mission Kashmir’s first phase is over. Carry on, carry on. Mission Kashmir’s first phase is over.
Are you listening? Yes, I am. The TV tower is blown to bits. I want to see India shattered into pieces
the same way. God willing. Fragments of the tower fell
as far as Nishat Baug and Char Chinar. If you need anything, tell us. The mission will end in victory,
God willing. A thousand thanks to God… Keep depositing the money in the bank. Leave the rest to God. Over and out. Over and out. Congratulations… …on Mission Kashmir’s first victory. Nothing can stop us now. What is your next target
after the TV tower? Is this why you worked
at the TV Centre? No, Khan-saab. You think you’ll get away? We know where you two used to meet. We also know you went out
in a shikara with him. And you smuggled him into the TV Centre
knowing he would kill the guards… …and blow up the tower and escape. Tell me, who gives you orders? Nobody. Please believe me. Who will believe you? Will the widows of the dead
believe you? You’re one of them, Sufi. You breached security
and brought him to your office… …and let him use your intercom.
What is he to you? Nothing. I love him. He returned after ten years and… He had changed. I know. After his parents were killed,
he came with me to my home. My wife also loves him
as much as you do. I have no link with him. But what can I do? I love him. Take her home. – Did she reveal anything, sir?
– She doesn’t know anything. – But, sir…
– Leave her alone, Avinash. Is he mute from childhood? No. Najibullah’s men tortured him.
They wanted Hilal. He stuck out his tongue and… Our information is correct, child. Day after tomorrow… …lndia’s Prime Minister
will come to the valley at noon. I’m ready to welcome him, sir. Please look carefully. This is a picture of a deadly terrorist
named Altaaf Khan. 21 years old, fair-complexioned… …green eyes, 6 feet tall. If you see him, please
inform the police immediately. That’s not good. Now all of Srinagar will recognize you. Leave at once… …for Krishna Raina’s old house
in Kunjar village. It’s far, but secure. Go now. – Hello, Number-man.
– Thanks. Altaaf-bhai,
kahvah from Ghafoor. Is there a phone close by? There’s one near Rainawari Square.
It’s far. Have kahvah first. No, Abba, I’m fine. I’m not upset. Abba, please understand. Don’t come now. Then throw away those tickets! What does it cost anyway,
Jammu to Srinagar? Why don’t you understand?
Altaaf has gone back. Please give the phone to Ammi. Ammi. You were right. My Altaaf is dead. – Hello, Ammi, l…
– Sufi, this is Altaaf. – Altaaf?
– I want to see you. Don’t call me again, ever. Why did you hang up on me, Sufi? Answer me. I don’t ever want to talk to you. And so you put a picture of me on TV
to get me killed. What about the people you’ve killed? Sufi, why don’t you understand?
I’m doing all this for my religion. I’m a Muslim, too. Islam doesn’t
permit the murder of innocent people. You’re taking revenge for the death
of your parents. That’s all. Stop, Sufi. Sufi, I said stop. Madam, for you. You used to love this dish. I still do. You should have come home once
to eat food from my hands, just once. How could I, Ammi? I’d think of it. Then that face… Your Abba’s face? No. The face of that murderer
hiding behind that mask. The face of that butcher rising
from behind a rain of bullets. – And smoke and showers of hot blood…
– You mustn’t talk like that, Son. I’m here now! Don’t be afraid. I’m not afraid, Ammi. For ten years
that face hasn’t let me sleep. Whenever I try to sleep,
those eyes start staring at me. All the burning villages
that I’ve seen in these ten years… …start to blaze in my head. All the screams I’ve heard
begin to shriek in my ears. All the corpses I’ve seen
appear behind that face and taunt me. I will have no peace
until I wipe out that face… …nor will I have sleep. What shall I do, Ammi?
What shall I do? Whoever fires that fatal bullet,
it’s my heart that it will pierce. But this war is not
between you and Khan-saab. On one side is love,
on the other, hatred. On one side is compassion,
on the other, terror. You have to choose. Good or evil, brutality or humanity… …Kashmir or holocaust,
what will stay alive… …you have to decide, Altaaf. Only you. So think hard
before you fire that bullet, Son. Think very hard. Tomorrow, I will survey
the whole area by helicopter. This area near Pari Mahal,
where the PM’s helicopter will land… …is a sensitive one. I’ve arranged for a thousand children
to welcome the PM… Excuse me. Hello? Okay. Sir, for his welcome… Mr. Khan, you discuss the PM’s security. While your wife has dodged
her own security and disappeared. Can you tell me where she’s gone? I’ll ask Neelima, sir. What you do is a personal matter. Our intelligence bureau tells us… …that you deliberately let go
of the terrorist who attacked you… …because of your old association with him. Look, Inayat Khan-saab… …we’ve lost one Prime Minister… …in the name of religion,
murdered by her own security people. Under the circumstances,
I don’t consider it appropriate… …to entrust the Prime Minister’s
security to you. Mr. Deshpande… …it is not the misfortune of Muslims only
but of the entire country… …that a soldier who has braved bullets for
21 years must keep proving his loyalty… …because his name is not Deshpande,
but Inayat Khan. – Look, Mr. Khan…
– You look, Mr. Deshpande. My blood is in this Kashmiri soil.
My nine-year-old son is buried in it. My love for this country needs
no certificates from a bureaucrat. – Listen, Mr. Khan…
– You listen to me, Mr. Deshpande! I am the state’s IG. The PM’s security is my responsibility
and will remain so… …till you dismiss me. Where did you go? – You’ve returned early today?
– Answer me. Where were you? I was out. Wearing a burkha?
Answer me. Where were you? If you know, why ask? Why did you go to meet him? Answer me. To plead with him?
To beg him not to kill your husband? You think I’m scared of him?
That I tremble at his name? Nilu, I’m getting angry.
Answer me. Why did you go? – You’ve never questioned me like this.
– I am now! Why did you go? Do you know what he has endured
these past ten years? The horrors he’s seen?
How many deaths he’s witnessed? Not as many as the corpses
I’ve carried on my shoulders. Answer me! Why did you go? – He can’t sleep.
– So let him shoot himself. I didn’t tell him to pick up a gun. I didn’t want to bring him home. You did. “One day he’ll understand.
We’ll tell him the truth.” He understands now. You told him
the truth! Answer me, why did you go? I went to see him
because I am his mother. And what am I to you? Answer me. You are my husband. Husband. Do you know
what a husband’s honour is? Do you know what happened
to my honour because of your action? What I had to listen to? – There’s blood on your hand.
– To hell with my hand, Nilu. Blood will be spilt now,
mine or Altaaf’s. Whose blood do you want it to be? Your husband’s or your son’s? Tomorrow I leave Kashmir for good. But before I go,
I want to ask you something. By what right?
As the friend who betrayed me? Or as the terrorist
who killed innocent people? As that 11-year-old Altaaf
whose 6-year-old sister Najjo… …and mother and father were murdered
in front of a 9-year-old Sufi? Don’t talk about that other Altaaf. I cradled him in my memories
with such tender love… …but you killed him. You are the murderer of that Altaaf. It’s true that I lied to you, Sufi. But it’s also true that I have loved you. My only regret is that I hate Khan… …as much as I love you. It is my sorrow, Altaaf… …that your hatred is much stronger
than your love. I truly love you, Sufi. I know your answer but will still ask: When this storm ends… …will you go with me again
in a shikara? I’ll never be able to see you. But I will dream, Sufi… …of those moments… …we spent together. And also of those moments… …which we could not spend together. Share that dream if you can. “Look, look “What shall I look at? “Dream, dream “What shall I dream? “Dream a city of lakes “And our house upon the waves “Dream a city of lakes “And our house upon the waves “Dream that all the sweet dreams “That we weave will come true “Just this, nothing more “Dream a city of lakes “And our house upon the waves “Dream all the sweet dreams “That we weave will come true “Just this, nothing more “Let the floor be made of love
Let fragrances suffuse the walls “of our home as we live our days in peace “Let the floor be made of love
Let fragrances suffuse the walls “of our home as we live our days in peace “My eyes close and open “but hold you in their gaze “Dream a city of lakes “And our house upon the waves “Bumblebee, dark-hued bumblebee “What garden do you come from? “Let snow cover all in the winter season “As we warm our hands by the fire “Let snow cover all in the winter season “As we warm our hands by the fire “And I sit in your embrace “My head on your shoulder “Once there was a small city of lakes “And our house upon the waves “Once it was you and me “Without these sorrows “Once it was so “But now there is “only desolation” Come in, Avinash. Yes, sir. Go ahead, sir. – There’s a clear gap on the left.
– Avinash, look to the left and back. Move up, to the left. – Avinash.
– Sir. Move them back, cover the right flank. To the right, boys. Right flank! Move those riflemen to the left.
More to the left. Move, move, left, left!
Cover that flank. I want two LMGs on that parapet.
No gaps in the fields of fire. I can see a gap. Up there.
Yes, up, and also to the right. – I’m going back to the base. Okay?
– Okay, sir. Khan-saab, come in, Khan-saab. Go ahead, Altaaf. Remember this day ten years ago? June 23rd, at Dalgate. When, by murdering my whole family,
you gave birth to a new Altaaf. Today is the tenth birthday
of that new Altaaf. Do you know what my birthday gift is? You! Hide anywhere, Khan-saab,
but today you won’t escape me. Altaaf, stop this craziness. Come home… …before a bullet from the police…
– Good-bye. We heard him on the wireless, Sir-ji.
Please take this threat seriously. Keep extra security for yourself. Gurdeep, I’m going home for lunch.
Your extra security wouldn’t let me… Sir-ji, in 15 years,
you’ve never eaten lunch at home. In 15 years I’ve never
broken even a glass at home. Never broken a glass?
What does that mean, Sir-ji? May I go home, “Sir-ji?” – Okay, Sir-ji.
– Thank you, “Sir-ji.” Guard! At Ease! Sir, SP-saab phoned. Sir, Madam hasn’t eaten anything. Sir, please try and coax her or she’ll fall ill. She’s not had a sip of water today. “Forgive me, love “Forgive me, your lordship “Forgive me, love “Forgive me, your lordship “You’ve got anger surging “And I feel only love flowing “Please forgive me, love “Forgive me, your lordship “Come on, forgive me, love “Forgive me, your lordship “You’ve got anger surging “And I feel only love flowing “Forgive me, love “Forgive me, your lordship “We shared dreams of flowers
but your words were like thorns “How can I heal my heart?
How can I forgive? “We shared dreams of flowers
but your words were like thorns “How can I heal my heart?
How can I forgive? “Let it go, let it go
Let go of this obstinacy “Darling, don’t break my heart “No, no, no, I don’t give in
You’ll have to beg “You’ve got anger surging
and all I feel is love flowing “Please forgive me, love
Forgive me, your lordship “Please” “Come, forgive me now
Come, let me win you over “Don’t be so angry “Please don’t withdraw so “Come, forgive me now “Come, let me win you over “Don’t be so angry “Please don’t withdraw so “I forgive you,
I forgive you my love “I forgive you, I forgive you” Sir-ji. We caught the man who placed
the bomb in the briefcase. He’s not alone, sir.
There are two others. Where is Altaaf? Sir, I’ll tell you everything. Maharaj Krishna Raina’s house
in Kunjar village. Where is Altaaf? Where is Altaaf? Avinash, what are you doing?
They’re all dead. He was running off with this camera
and these cassettes. They’re up to something, sir. “Mission Kashmir”? Tell me, what is Mission Kashmir? Stop! Go back. Right there! This man… I killed this terrorist in Kunjar village. How did he reach Hazratbal mosque? – And in a police uniform?
– Khan-saab, Hazratbal is so crowded. – They took these shots on a Friday.
– My God, today is Friday. How long will it take? There are a lot of tapes to transfer.
It’ll take time. I don’t have time. Figure out what
these images mean. Then contact me. We don’t have time. Why do you act like this? Had I been hit above
the bullet-proof jacket, I’d be dead. The bullet hit you today.
I’ve known you for years. You go mad when you see militants. – You wouldn’t understand.
– Why? Because I’m a Sikh? No. Because you’re not a Kashmiri.
You’re an outsider. You never saw how, instead of prayers,
loud-speakers rained abuses on us. They said, “Hindus, leave Kashmir
if you want to stay alive.” While all the Kashmiri Hindus fled… …l, a policeman, watched helplessly. – I can understand, Avinash.
– You understand nothing. How can you know what it is
to live in a refugee camp? What it is to watch your home
burn down before your very eyes? How can you know what it is
to be separated from your family? No, I will never understand
because I have no family left at all. They were all killed in 1984
in one single day, in Delhi. They put a tire around my father’s neck
and burnt him alive. Know who did it? A crazy Hindu. Asshole. Who shall I blame? Shall I kill you, Hindu? Sir, IG-saab has sent for you. It’s urgent. No, I can’t kill you.
Not because you’re my friend. But because we’re not killers.
We’re here to protect. We must safeguard humanity.
We must save Kashmir. We won’t let the martyrdom
of 20 boys go to waste. These innocent children have been killed… …by those responsible
for your mother’s death, child. Allah has chosen you for this work. Allah has chosen you
for this mission, my child. India’s PM should not leave
this valley alive. This is our Mission Kashmir. Do you know why Allah
called your mother to Him? So that, when you kill IG Khan along
with the PM, your hands won’t tremble. Understand, child? Good boy! Now rise. Tell me, how and where you will blow up
the PM’s helicopter? Somebody open the door! Help! Open the door! Hurry up! Douse the flames.
Sir-ji, he’s out. Okay, Sir-ji. Okay. Follow him, Gurdeep. Avinash, do you see him? Yes, sir. He’s heading
towards Kukar Bazaar. I’ve got him, Avinash.
He’s going through Pakki Lane. Exactly at 2:45,
the PM’s helicopter will land here. As the rotors stop, the chief minister
will step forward to garland him. – And then, the first blast.
– Idris will fire. At this blast, IG Khan
will move from the police cordon… …with his men, to enter the helipad. Then, the second missile. – Specially for IG Khan.
– You’ll fire it, Altaaf. Your quest and my mission,
both victorious, God willing. How long have you waited
for this moment, child? A thousand years! He’s crossing Amirkadal bridge.
You cover him now, Avinash. Security is very tight
because of the PM’s arrival. We cannot all move together. We’ll go in three units
to Rainawari via different routes. – The first unit from here.
– Idris. The second, with me, from here. The third, from here… …with me. Sir, he’s crossing Chinar Baug. He’s crossed the wooden bridge,
heading towards Dalgate, Sir-ji. Child… …don’t forget your innocent sister,
your mother and father. IG Khan butchered them all
in front of your eyes. Don’t forget, Allah sends
such an opportunity just once. Allah is your protector.
Your target is IG Khan. Go, my child, and destroy that infidel. Before the launch, when the missiles
turn towards the real target… …this child may panic. Calm him down. If he doesn’t consent… …shoot him through the head.
Don’t cause him pain. He’s my child. Sir, he’s taking the lane
towards Khyam Chowk. He’s crossing the Jhelum.
We’ll take him at the other end, Sir-ji. Pahalgam calling Gulmarg, over. Gulmarg’s getting you loud and clear, over. – Gurdeep, cover the house.
– Okay, Sir-ji. – Avinash, you cover me.
– Yes, sir. – I’m entering the house. Okay?
– We’ve surrounded it, sir. Move it, move it! Stop the car. We’re leaving this place.
The mission proceeds as planned. – Are you ready?
– Ready for the telecast, over. Over and out. Don’t fire, don’t shoot him! Greetings, Khan-saab. What is Mission Kashmir? Where is Altaaf? – Mazar-e-Sharif.
– What? 1987. The Russians cut my neck. For seven days, I held my head
to my slashed neck. No food, water, sleep, nothing
or my head would have fallen off. For seven days I held up my severed head.
I didn’t tell them anything. And you, what can you do to me
in 37 minutes? Want to try? Go ahead. 37 minutes? 36 minutes now. My child Altaaf
must have begun the mission already. – In 36 minutes, your India…
– 36 minutes? 10 seconds! In 10 seconds, I’ll blow your brains out
if you don’t talk. Talk! Ten, nine… …eight, seven… …six, five… …four, three, two…
– Sir. – One
– Sufi. Khan-saab, this is Mission Kashmir. I’ve joined all the pieces
of this picture together. And it’s terrifying. Sir, our army commandos are ready.
As soon as you order, they’ll attack. Where will you attack?
Do you know where the missiles are? In 36 minutes
you’ll search all of Kashmir? No commandos, no army, no police
can do anything now. We’ve lost Kashmir. – But I’ll blow Hilal’s face to bits.
– Stop, Khan-saab. Only he knows… …where the missiles are.
– But why would he take us there? He’ll take us. I’m sure he will… …if he believes that my love
for Kashmir is less… …than my hatred for Altaaf. If he believes that I’m so blinded
by my thirst for revenge… …that I’ve forgotten India. If he believes that he will be saved… …and I will die. But I’ll have to go alone with him. – We will give you cover, sir.
– No wrong move! One wrong move
and Kashmir will be destroyed. No one will follow me.
Is that understood? But, Khan-saab, you alone? Either I will die or Kashmir will be saved. Sufi, go with Avinash and Gurdeep.
Take Nilu’s ashes… …and immerse them
in the Ganges at Haridwar. Perhaps she’ll forgive me. Everyone out. Out! I’ve lost, Hilal. My men were following Altaaf. I’ve just been told that they’ve lost him. Now only you can take me to him. Here. If you want, finish me off.
But give me Altaaf. Give you my child Altaaf? No, Khan. He is no longer your son. He is my child. – Through him, we will destroy India.
– Let India rot and Kashmir go to hell. I only want Altaaf. You love him dearly. But our entire mission depends on him. You can have your mission, Hilal. But give me Altaaf. With my own hands
I’ll give him such a death… …that no son will ever again
dare kill his mother. You are a Pathan, Hilal.
You know what revenge means. I beg you to let me
avenge my wife’s murder. If you are a true Pathan,
then understand my hatred. A Pathan knows only two things… …boundless love and limitless hatred. Then fulfil your duty, Pathan. Give me Altaaf. You will get Altaaf. They will
get Kashmir. What will I get? Your life. My men will escort you
past the Line of Control. Nobody will touch you. Your hatred is truly worthy
of a Pathan’s praise. I accept. Khan, you’ve reached your destination. – Idris!
– Sir. You’re late, sir. Is all well? I had stopped to get you a gift. This pistol belongs
to the same infidel police officer… …who orphaned you as a child. Khan? Yes, Khan! I told you, execute my mission
and I’ll take you to your goal. A Pathan honours his word
even when given to an enemy. And you, you are my child. Here, take it.
Go and complete your mission. These are the eyes that
haven’t let me sleep for ten years. Kill me, but listen to me, Altaaf. I’ll give you such a death… Like the death you gave Neelima? Look. This is all that’s left
of the woman who loved you as her son. The same will happen to Kashmir.
And you will be responsible. You want to know
what Mission Kashmir is? It has nothing to do
with the PM’s visit. Today is Friday. Thousands of people
will gather at Hazratbal for prayers. As they kneel, your missile will hit. The innocent blood of Muslims
will turn that white mosque red. And you will be responsible. The missile is ready, sir. The Indian army will be blamed
for blowing up Hazratbal mosque. They’ll say that the Hindu
security forces blew it up. Think, Altaaf! Your men were filmed
wearing Indian army uniforms. – This isn’t true.
– That’s not all, Altaaf. Remember, Nilu took you
to Shankracharya temple as a child? Today, your second missile will land
on the kneeling pilgrims at Shankracharya. The child is taking too long. Come, Kohisha. They’ll say that Muslims destroyed
the temple in revenge for the mosque. This is your Mission Kashmir. They destroyed our TV tower
to spread this lie… …so that on their TV they could
broadcast those faked images. Your Sufi saw this apocalypse
with her own eyes, Altaaf. Think of the riots
when Babri mosque was destroyed. Of the carnage,
they fired at the Golden Temple. Think, if Shankracharya
and Hazratbal are both… Our world will be doomed.
A bloody plague will claim us. Human beings will become
maddened brutes, Altaaf. My one mistake destroyed
your entire life, Son. But this mistake of yours
will destroy all of Kashmir, Son. You’ve never been able to forgive me. Kashmir too will never forgive you, Son. Because Mission Kashmir
is the death of Kashmir. This infidel talks too much.
Finish him off, child. Kill me, Altaaf, but save Kashmir, Son. Kill him, child. These eyes haven’t let you sleep.
Put your bullet between them. Kill him, child, kill him. But for your mother’s sake,
save Kashmiriyat, Son. – Kill him, child.
– She used to take you to Hazratbal. Altaaf, don’t think. Kill him. You’ve forgotten Shankracharya? – Shoot me!
– Kill him, child. Good or evil, brutality or humanity… …Kashmir or holocaust,
what will stay alive… …you have to decide, Altaaf. Only you. So think hard
before you fire that bullet, Son. Think very hard. Don’t kill him, Altaaf.
He’ll take us to the missiles. Stop. Nobody shoots. Lower your guns. Stop or I’ll spill Hilal’s brains
into the lake. Child. “Smoke everywhere “Just Smoke” God is testing you. He’s watching
if you’re straying from His path. Pick up your gun
and finish off this enemy of Allah. “Who wrote strife into our lives “Using the name of God?” My child, remember? I took care of you.
I put a carbine into your hands. I showed you the path of jihad. “This oppression, these crimes “Who calls it jihad?” I’m thankful that today
you are carrying me yourself… …on the path to paradise,
on the path to the merciful. Do you understand, child? “When will these storms cease? “Thousands of tender buds “Have been torn unblossomed
from their branches” To kill infidels is your goal,
your duty, your only destiny. It is Allah’s will that you kill the enemy. “Who is laying waste our paradise?” This is your faith, child.
This is your only religion. Out! Out! For spreading death instead of life
in the name of religion… …for placing carbines instead of crayons
in the hands of innocent children… …for turning Kashmir
from a paradise into hell… …I sentence you to death. Blow up Shankracharya! Quickly! Blow it up! Hurry up. An operation,
code named Mission Kashmir… …to destroy the holy shrines,
Hazratbal and Shankracharya… …was foiled by timely and intrepid
action by the Kashmir Police. Sir. What happened? Our failure of Mission Kashmir
must be kept a secret. We’re lucky that nobody knows
of this mission except us. Yes. Except you. Come on, Altaaf. Come on, Khan-saab. Out! Altaaf’s out! I’m not out. You’re cheating. Altaaf, give me the bat. Let it be, Khan-saab. – Nilu, you too!
– Altaaf is home, after so long. – I wasn’t out, was I?
– No. Altaaf, what happened? A snow-covered field… …a green cricket pitch… …a wooden bridge… And a pink house. Today, after ten years… …I saw a dream, Abba.
– What did you say? – After ten years…
– No. After that. – I saw a dream.
– After that, Altaaf. Abba. Abba.