Dharam Karam Page #2

Come inside

Where did you learn

this old song from?

This song? I've learnt it

from my good old phono

When it sings,

I sing along with it

Phono? What do you mean?

Don't you know what's a phono?

A player

Player? You mean a gramophone?

Then that's my voice, son

Are you a phono? -Yes, I'm he

If you really are a phono

then sing like he does

Okay

What will remain behind

will be your words

Mr. Phono!

From today that will be your name

Really?

Let your words resound in

palaces and mansions

Let your songs be at home in

the by-lanes of the town

Whether King or his subjects

You make up all of mankind

No matter who strums the strings

it must be your voice

Become a theme for life,

then bid adieu to the world

One day you'll be sold

as cheap as dirt

What will remain behind

will be your words

Well done my boy.

Ranjit, see how beautiful he sings

What's your name? -Dharam

Oh? Very nice

Where do you live?

-In the slum colony

Really?

Who's your father?

-A greatly respected person

He's a don. -Don? What does he do?

Don't you know? The same old

knives, daggers, fights..

Give a few, take a few

But my father hates music.

-But you like, don't you?

Yes, I do.

Very much. -Will you learn?

Of course.

But behind my father's back.

-Fine. Come here daily.

I'll teach you.

Here's some money.

Buy yourself a new shirt

Take it. -l don't take alms

These aren't alms, son

You've earned it. Look,

when I sing, I get paid for it

Likewise, you sang for me,

so I'm paying you for it

Mr Phono,

you are a first class man

Mr Phono indeed!

You cur, give me the money.

-It's mine!

You bloody fool,

did your father give it to you?

One chocolate. Not this. A big one

My son goes to a good school.

And when he grows up..

He'll be the top brass!

Colour! Out with the dough

-Just a boy, but plays like a pro!

Here you are.

-Must be cheating -You cur.

Cheating must be your dad's

profession! Give the money

Whom are you cursing? -Let go!

Else, I'll break your legs!

You rogue, why hit a child?

-He's very rude to elders

Must be having a rascal's blood!

You cur, you abuse his bloodline?

-Why lose your shirt?

He's not your son, is he?

-His father's a rich man

I think his mother must've..

You're scared of me? Silly boy.

I love you, son

Take these chocolates

Blood! Murder! Murder!

It's a murder wrap, Bhim Singh.

But by God, it happened for best

May God help you, Shankar.

But I really pity this innocent

What about this mother-less kid?

-What about him?

He has you, Kale Khan, Mama..

And I'm not going to the gallows

I'll be back in just 14 years.

14 years only

Father! Oh, father..

Why are you crying like a girl?

Rate this script:3.0 / 1 vote