Original subtitles

Greetings, Father.

"Don't forget or let them forget."

That's what you have always said.

By labeling the First War of Independence as a mutiny,

the British brutally crushed it.

They annihilated Delhi, Kanpur, Jhansi.

They established the British Empire on Indian corpses.

They didn't leave any stone unturned.

But our soil witnessed everything.

All our wounds run deep.

Do you remember?

When you and your accomplices gathered in the dead of night to hatch your plans,

I used to secretly listen. You always said the same thing.

"The one who wins writes history."

I promise you that we will write the next chapter of this story.

We will write the end of the British Empire.

We will win tomorrow.

Your son...

Rash Behari Bose.

Apply turmeric paste, son.

Otherwise, the wound may heal, but it will leave behind a scar.

Attention, please.

The procession celebrating Delhi as the new Imperial Capital

will shortly pass along Main Street.

Papa, I need to pee! How much longer?

You want to see the Viceroy's procession, don't you?

Please take your places calmly and in an orderly manner.

-Bhaisahab (Brother), give me one kachori. -Attention, please.

The procession celebrating Delhi as the new Imperial Capital

will shortly pass along Main Street.

All members of the public

are requested to move towards the Main Street

and stand in an orderly manner.

The procession celebrating Delhi as the new Imperial Capital

will shortly pass along Main Street.

All members of the public are requested to move towards the Main Street,

and stand in an orderly manner.

Keep the roads clear!

-Please follow the orders. -Take it out.

But I had thrown this!

A symbol of our struggle to show the children, Dada.

Attention. Attention.

With the blessings of the King-Emperor,

His Excellency, Right Honorable Charles Hardinge,

India's Viceroy and Governor-General, is passing before you.

Look at the British Empire, in all its glory!

This is a historical moment!

Today marks the inauguration of Delhi as the capital of British India.

On the magnificent elephant sit the Viceroy and Vicereine.

Stand up, fill the air with applause!

All citizens must maintain discipline.

Keep the route clear.

Stand clear of the designated areas.

Get back.

Get back.

Morning, sir!

Good morning, Professor Bose!

Jai Bhawani (Glory to the Goddess Bhawani)!

The police were looking for you.

Why?

Because they thought you try to assassinate the Viceroy.

Did I get it right?

The Hindi.

Did I get it right?

Is it "try" or "tried"?

You try to assassinate the Viceroy.

It's neither.

It's, "You attempted to assassinate the Viceroy."

And was the thing about the police... sach?

"Sach"?

Truth.

I mean, was it the truth, or you made that up too?

No, that part was true.

Routine questioning.

The Director is, understandably,

up in arms over the break-in at the laboratory.

He's determined to find out the identities of the pranksters, but...

All the same.

Boys will be boys, right?

I'm sure no harm was meant.

Look who I am talking to!

I'm sure you've never broken a law in your life.

Actually...

I'll have you know, Ms. Rebecca O' Malley...

I have caused my fair share of mischief.

You see,

I've been quite notorious in my time.

Oh, do go on, Mr. Bose...

I can't abide secrets.

I once scribbled a naughty limerick

in my English teacher's notebook.

And that's it?

The most downright, awful thing you've ever done?

I'll insist they do question you, Mr. Bose.

The police, that is.

We both fully well know what they will find.

Absolutely nothing!

Because you are more British than the British themselves.

When Rash Babu took off his kurta,

his body was covered in wounds.

But his scars are a reflection of his commitment to the revolution.

Every mark carries a story of rebellion.

He calls me Chota Babu (Little One).

No hesitance, just complete trust.

-Like I'm his... -Right-hand man!

Right-hand man! That's correct!

None of you are even worthy of being men in this lifetime.

Did anyone do any of their exercises today?

Or will you only start on my count?

Sachin.

Wait.

You had a simple task.

Pick up the goods from here,

deliver them to Delhi, and return.

Yes, or no?

Yes.

Dada, those Brit dogs got what they deserved--

Hurry up.

Beyond that, every other action,

proves only one thing,

that you are not ready.

-But, Dada-- -Utter one more word,

and I'll have you do a hundred push-ups

before I let you finish your sentence.

-A hundred-- -Two hundred!

Go on. Get started.

Sachin is a reflection of you.

I know you feel that

he is still a little immature.

Father,

he will wash away four decades of sacrifice

with his immaturity.

You are underestimating him.

Dada!

What happened?

Oh, my Darling, Oh, my darling, Clementine

Bose, join us!

I know Tagore Sahab doesn't need a reason to--

What?

I know this man doesn't need a reason to celebrate,

-but-- -It's good news!

The Viceroy is going to recover.

Becky, let the bore brood! Come back!

You know, Becky,

one can be absolutely certain.

The culprits will be apprehended before long

and dealt with most decisively.

Bose.

Isn't it splendid news about the Viceroy?

Well, I think it's about time that you write one of those fiery pieces of yours!

You know, about this whole "Throw the British out" nonsense.

Young men of your character and caliber

should stand firm against these bloodthirsty anarchists.

Make it abundantly clear

that they do not speak for the rest of us.

Come, let us seek inspiration.

Walter Da?

Bose!

Lunatic!

Friends!

There's this young chap down in South Africa.

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi is his name.

His is a young career, presently...

but already,

it smacks of greatness.

He writes,

and I quote...

"We have to thank our stars

that the dastardly act of the bomb thrower

at Delhi did not prove fatal to Lord Hardinge's life,

and that Lady Hardinge had a miraculous escape."

Miraculous?

"We, as Indians, deplore that this nefarious institution

of cold-blooded, satanic murder should find its votaries in India."

The very people whose freedom we are willing to die for...

consider us their enemies.

How should we go on, Mula Bhai?

Half of us are in jail,

and the rest are defamed.

Veere (Brother),

if everyone shared our ideas...

do you think...

the British would have lasted even a day on our soil?

Veere, it is people like you

who are an inspiration to us all.

And don't forget...

Guru Gobind Singh ji's words,

"Fear not if years pass, keep fighting.

With a steadfast resolve, make victory yours."

Veere, you must understand that

your first strike did not miss.

The British are thoroughly humiliated.

On paper, Delhi may be the capital,

but in reality, Delhi lies deserted.

The shops are closed.

All houses will be checked.

Lock up this store!

-Close it down! -Close it! Close it now!

Shut it down!

Every street lies under curfew.

All the stations have been sealed.

Not a soul is in sight.

And my dear,

it is with an order of your arrest

that two top officers have arrived.

Want to see?

Look.

Michael Francis O'Dwyer.

Lt. Governor of Punjab.

But he isn't the one you need to worry about.

It is him, his most trusted officer,

who will stand in your way.

Lt. Col. Reginald Edward Harry Dyer.

A British army officer,

but his roots to India are even stronger than mine.

Born in Murree, Punjab.

He speaks six languages.

The British always made him feel that he was never worthy.

So, he decided he'd become more British than the British themselves.

Crossed every limit of savagery.

By the Third Burmese War, he was already an Officer.

Then, he entered Viceroy Curzon's inner circle,

and he gave this monster an even looser leash.

Frankly, it seemed that the more Indian heads he cut off,

the more medals he received.

Guards!

Attention.

Tell m-me...

once m-more...

what did you see d-during the Viceroy's procession

f-from your terraces?

Do you l-live here?

Yes.

Did you watch the Viceroy's procession from your terrace?

With whom?

Who else was with you?

My family. My wife and children.

A s-son?

I have two daughters, sir.

I hope they were not injured.

Good.

Good.

Maan Singh?

Take his daughters and throw them into the men's jail.

-Go on. -No, please! Don't do that!

Mom! Mom!

Dad! Dad!

S-speak up!

Forgive me, sir. Forgive me.

The face was covered,

their gait was a little stocky.

They were probably about six feet tall.

B-Bollocks.

W-Wire.

T-Tin can.

Picric Acid.

R-Rudimentary to a fault.

It's easy.

You can even make this b-bomb at home.

Any l-luck with the o-others?

Nothing helpful, sir.

The women's faces were covered.

But this piece of cloth

might have been left by one of the assassins.

Where can this cloth be found?

Check every shop in Delhi.

Shonku, what is this?

Maa!

What are these clothes doing with you?

If I hadn't picked them up,

they would be lying in a haveli in Chandni Chowk,

where the police would have found them.

If you all listened to me instead of scolding me,

you would realize that I think ahead,

and I wouldn't have to do all these push-ups.

"I can think ahead..."

Maa!

Having sense is not just about your intellect,

it's also about experience.

Abani Dada has a wealth of experience.

Everything he does is for your own good.

My good?

What good will come from my marriage?

He should understand that I am not like all of you,

that I have a different goal in life.

And no matter how much effort I put in, it will never be good enough for him.

He still thinks of me as a child.

Perhaps you should stop acting like one.

You only had to complete a simple task in Delhi.

-And did you do that? -But, Maa--

You didn't.

And why didn't you?

Because you refuse to understand

that our most powerful weapon is being a shadow.

Until you understand the strength of being in the shadows,

someone or the other will keep setting you straight.

Shonku, the legacy of our family is service...

not just to our own kin,

but to every revolutionary, as if they were our blood.

It takes just one man to throw a bomb.

But to reach that moment requires the entire Sanyal family.

Understood?

Come on.

The training has already begun downstairs. Go quickly.

-Maa... -You also have to go to the station later.

Maa, I cannot train today.

Fine. I'll tell Abani Dada...

No, no!

And the station?

I will go, Maa.

And get rid of these clothes, right now.

Come downstairs.

Maa...

-Downstairs! -But, Maa, this--

Attention, please, passengers.

Train bound to Delhi from Howrah

has arrived on Platform Number Two

-of Benares Junction. -Dada, that third box--

Platform Number Two...

Move your cow out of the way!

Bhaiya, the cow will not move!

She listens to no one!

It is Sunday, the street will be crowded!

Bhaisahab (Brother),

please move a little forward.

If he is saying then do it!

Alright.

It will be just a minute, Kaki (Aunt).

No worries, dear.

So, dear...

Sachin.

I heard you are quite the academic.

Are you planning on following your family's legacy

and becoming a doctor or lawyer, or--

I'm still thinking about it, Kaki.

Still thinking about it?

Oh, that's good. Good.

Our Pratibha here is also quite a sensible girl.

Aren't you, Putul?

You know, Putul's father

diligently made sure that she studied until the eighth standard.

In fact, at any given moment,

she can recite the entire 700 verses of the Chandi Paath chant.

All the 700 verses?

Yes, absolutely!

Go ahead, dear. Recite it.

Kaki... here? Right now?

-No... -Why not, Putul?

Let's hear it!

Don't argue with me. Recite it, now.

Your mother has given you too much freedom.

She's actually a bit shy.

Come on, recite it.

Allow me.

What happened to my bundle?

Pratibha--

Hey, Putul!

Where has this girl gone now?

I am tired of it.

Kaki, I did recite the verses.

I'm so grateful!

You haven't learned how to respect your elders.

Always arguing unnecessarily.

Don't forget you come from a reputed family.

But I have given my word to your parents

that I'll marry you off to a respectable household.

And I always keep my word. Understood?

Alright, cover your head and come downstairs.

Come and take Abani Dada's blessing.

Hurry, hurry!

Don't delay any further.

"Cover your head and come downstairs."

Putul!

Hurry up and come downstairs!

Sachin!

Abani Dada is calling you!

Sachin!

This type of work is called zardozi...

We searched all over, but such intricate craftsmanship--

This is Ravi, sir.

My nephew.

I had inquired about a job for him.

He's very reliable, sir.

He speaks some English too.

Go on, Ravi. Introduce yourself in English.

My name Ravi Singh.

My father name Dashrath Pratap Singh, sir.

I studied till standard eight.

You like tea? How much sugar?

No sugar.

What have you done?!

That was evidence, you fool!

-I'll slap the living daylights... -Calm down, Maan Singh.

This cloth is a dead end of yours, anyway.

I'm sorry, sir.

I mean, yes, sir.

Get on with it, Maan Singh.

You are absolutely right, sir.

Traders in the market told us that

this kind of handiwork will not be found in Delhi.

Only a few trained artisans can do work like this.

And where will we find this "trained artisan"?

Sir, they said that this kind of work

is done in Lucknow, Farrukhabad, Bhopal,

and Benaras.

REVOLT

Shailja!

Talk some sense into your friend.

She should be dressed appropriately for tomorrow's aarti.

Don't worry at all, Kaki.

I'll personally see to it that Pratibha is ready for the prayers tomorrow.

Shailja!

Pratibha, my dear,

tomorrow's prayers have been... canceled.

Because everyone here is mourning.

Mourning? Why?

Apparently, young Mr. Sanyal is no longer a bachelor!

The unmarried girls are inconsolable!

You really say anything!

I'm asking a simple question.

Have you agreed to the match, or not?

A smart person can know the answer from a simple glance.

Understood?

Don't tell me you never moved past unspoken signals.

You know,

Om Bhaisahab was telling me

that he's the strongest one in the akhada (training ground)...

Poor guy.

All that effort

and his future wife

could only spare him a glance.

Who told you...

that's where things stopped?

What is he doing here?

Shailja! Tell your friend to come down immediately.

-Go! Go! -I've been calling you two for so long!

Please handle Kaki and close the door on your way out!

-Yes, yes, Kaki! -What is she doing inside the room?

-I am coming up! -We were just preparing the clothes!

-What happened? -My bundle!

I...

Give me back my bundle!

You want your bundle or your contentious books?!

Books? What books?

-These books. -You read my books?!

Give me my bundle!

-First, tell me the truth. -I'm not telling you anything--

I have been calling out for her for so long!

What is she doing inside her room?

Shailja, get out of my way.

Why are you stopping me from going inside?

I'm not stopping you, Kakima.

Please, calm down.

Let me go upstairs! We will be down in a second!

This is mine!

-Let go! You're such a thief-- -No, I will--

-Wait, I'll-- -Hold on, one minute!

You're not trying to return this, are you?

Look, Sachin Babu,

I already told you these measurements are wrong,

but you didn't listen to me.

You may be from a family of lawyers,

but even I come from a long line of tailors.

You cannot give this back, Sachin Babu, please understand!

I am not trying to return this!

No sane person climbs through a window to give something,

only to take back what is theirs!

If I give you this,

what will I get in return?

Oh Lord, whatever you want!

This...

I want more of this.

Why?

Yes, why?

So, next time you break in,

you'll have something to give.

Understood, Krantikari Babu (Mr. Revolutionary)?

Let's go.

You, Mister! Are you blind? Can't see where you're going?

It's a call for revolt, Sachin Dada.

They have asked the akhadas to rise up.

Who all?

Lala Lajpat Rai.

Bipin Chandra Pal.

Atul Krishna Ghosh.

We need to fight back against these unlawful arrests!

They want to hunt us down like dogs?

We'll burn them all!

Say it again.

-We'll burn them all! -Say it again.

We'll burn them all!

Jai Bhawani!

Was the b-bomb the same?

Yes, sir.

The one with... picric acid.

He even had a French bomb-making magazine on him.

Has he been caught?

I always suspected that the bomb throwers

were men, not women.

I want us on the first t-train t-to Lahore.

Not Lahore, Reginald.

I am sending you to Dehra Dun.

At ease.

Dehra Dun is where the Viceroy has chosen,

in his wisdom, to complete his recovery.

-B-But, sir. -I have read the report, Lieutenant.

The assassin has been caught.

Put the word out that we have our culprit.

Sir, with all due r-respect,

catching one of the t-two isn't enough.

One of them is still at large.

All the more to reason to have you at the Viceroy's side then,

don't you think?

Prepare for our departure to Dehra Dun.

You. Go to Lahore.

Skin him alive.

Veere!

Veere, listen to me!

There is no need for this.

Veere, what is your intention, huh?

-Stay back! -First, give me the gun.

What are you planning to do? Rain bullets down on the Lahore police station?

-Let go. -Give it to me. Give me the gun!

Has he left me any other choice?!

It's all my fault.

I warned him...

the Brits are hounds, they'll sniff us out.

Veere, look,

Basanta knew the risks.

You and I both know he will stand tall.

He's one of us, he won't break.

Now listen,

your precious Viceroy

is walking right to your doorstep here, to Dehra Dun.

Yes.

To recover from the wounds, you and Basanta inflicted on him.

Veere, now it's time to finish what you started.

The bastard is throwing a ball.

He'll be surrounded by his allies.

And we all know who his most trusted "Brown Babu" is.

Due to the necessarily strict security arrangements,

the committee gathered here today will decide

which Indians are to be invited to the reception party.

Further to which, I have divided this committee

into various departments,

each of which will be headed by one of us present.

Becky will be in charge of decor.

Bose will look after the band and music.

The Honorable Commissioner of Provincial Affairs,

Sir Thomas, will be responsible for victuals.

And the Viceroy's A.D.C., Mr. Peterson,

will look after the guest invites.

And yours truly will be the proverbial "Eye in the Sky."

Let's get to work!

Ladies and gentlemen!

Pray rise.

His Excellency, The Right Honorable Lord Hardinge,

Viceroy and Governor-General of India,

Representative of His Most Gracious Majesty,

the King-Emperor,

accompanied by Her Excellency, Vicereine Winifred.

-Long live our invincible Viceroy! -Long live Britain!

Long live the King!

To your strength, sir!

All hail, Your Excellency.

May you live for a hundred years, Your Highness.

-Impeccable. -Long live...

-our invincible Viceroy! -Ladies and Gentlemen...

To his Excellency,

steadfast in courage,

unshaken in duty.

As Mr. Rudyard Kipling so rightly reminded us,

"If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs..."

His Excellency has done precisely that.

To the Crown itself,

which, as history has shown,

does not bend before fear.

To a rule that may remain strong,

and worthy of the King-Emperor's trust.

And finally,

to restored health.

To enduring union.

And, to a reign of service

that shall stand fast for King and Crown.

Hear, hear.

Hear, hear.

-Hear, hear! -Hear, hear!

Long live the Viceroy!

Long live Britain!

May I have your attention, please.

Considering the Viceroy's health, I would request all those present

to respectfully maintain a distance from him.

Kindly refrain from gathering around him or approaching him closely.

Enjoy the evening.

Let me introduce you to Lt. Col. Dyer.

Lt. Colonel, this is Rash Behari Bose.

He is making quite the name for himself at the Forest Institute.

Just an Assistant Professor of Chemistry, Lt. Colonel.

Becky is too kind.

That's quite the scar you have there.

I have a few myself.

Souvenirs from...

B-Burma.

Nothing as adventurous, I am afraid.

Just some angry oil in a frying pan.

Turmeric paste.

Apply t-twice a day.

Someone else had also given me this same advice.

My nanny.

In Shimla,

when I was g-growing up,

if I g-got hurt,

my nanny would apply turmeric paste.

I understood so much, and yet did not.

Rash is teaching me Hindi.

You're learning Hindi from a B-Bengali?

I am guessing Mr. B-Bose's charm

is far more impressive than his Hindi.

We have an agreement, him and I.

A favor for a favor.

He teaches me Hindi, and I tutor him in French.

Rash has taken to the language like a duck to water,

whereas myself...

Well, my progress has been somewhat slower.

Here you are.

Only the finest from France for the finest in Dehra Dun!

And to the finest from Shimla!

Sir.

Maan Chacha has brought Basanta.

The Viceroy is to be escorted back.

He's r-requested for us to leave.

Recovery demands r-rest.

True.

Milady.

I must take your leave.

It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. B-Bose.

And I am sure we will again.

Don't forget.

Turmeric paste.

Twice a day.

Son of a bitch.

Speak up.

Speak up.

Sir...

Sir, he's admitted to...

hurling the bomb at the Viceroy.

And his partner?

He is standing tall on that.

Said he did it alone.

"More shall follow. More shall follow."

He keeps repeating the same thing.

Even though I have passed the eighth standard,

I can't understand this much English...

Are you here to stand around?!

If you even take a breath around the evidence,

your fate will be worse than his!

Maan Singh!

At ease.

R-Ravi, this book is in French.

French?

Sir, his English is worse than mine.

-Quiet. -Maan Singh.

R-Ravi... what did you say?

Sir... all I'm saying is...

how can a man who speaks even less English than me,

understand French fluently?

Turmeric paste.

Maan Singh.

The Viceroy's attacker...

from whose clutches he barely e-escaped...

who the whole B-British R-Raj

is desperately h-hunting...

What if I say...

he was right there with us...

at the Viceroy's Ball?

He knows French too, Maan Singh!

And he's a Professor of Chemistry!

Let's go, sir,

and issue a warrant.

If you kill one mongrel on the street

the r-rest will disappear into the s-shadows.

Now, the chase has begun.

Your accomplice will lead us to every last one of you.

In war, there are only enemies and traitors.

And betraying the British Empire is the gravest form of treachery.

And revolution?

The very thought of it will be erased.

He doesn't stand a chance.

Mr. B-Bose forgets...

that the sun does not set on the B-British Empire.