Bajirao Mastani

1

As incomplete as

the sun without rays...

And fragrance without breeze...

Is a ruler without

his Prime Minister.

The demise of our Prime Minister,

Peshwa Balaji Vishwanath...

Leaves us with

a pressing question.

Who here considers himself

worthy enough to be the next Peshwa?

I would accept the post of Peshwa

with great honour, Your Majesty.

Your proposal pleases me,

Panth Pratinidhi.

Does the court approve?

Your Majesty...

The only man that can protect...

the Maratha empire and preserve

the honour of the Peshwa's post...

is Bajirao!

Forgive me, Your Majesty

but this statement mocks the court.

You appear to be the

only one laughing, Minister.

Every man has the

right to prove his merit.

A son does not inherit his father's

wisdom simply by wearing his turban.

Even a sandalwood tree needs time

to age before it produces fragrance.

But even the youngest thorn can prick.

What say?

Never doubt the cheetah's speed, the

hawk's vision and Bajirao's sword...

They could outwit you at any moment!

I, Bajirao Ballad...

Son of Late Balaji Vishwanath,

consider myself fit for this post.

And for that,

I am willing to pass any test.

A test there shall be, Bajirao.

But I shall allow Panth

Pratinidhi to decide it.

Prove your marksmanship by splitting

that peacock feather into two, Bajirao.

Let your weapons speak of your wisdom.

Now let's see some of that

cheetah's speed and hawk's vision...

Your Majesty, the challenge was to split

the peacock feather into two halves...

And the court witnesses that

the feather is still intact.

But shorter than before.

Sift through the mud and

you will find the other half there.

That was proof of my marksmanship...

Now for the thought behind it.

That soil is India and that

peacock feather is the tree...

of the Mughal kingdom

with its roots in Delhi...

The arrow is...

The Maratha empire.

Strike at the root and

even the biggest tree will fall.

You have a brilliant mind, Peshwa!

Behold the pride of

the Maratha empire...

The righteous and dutiful...

Peshwa Bajirao Ballad!

Behold!

This story belongs

to an era in history...

When King Shahu Maharaj

held the reins of the Maratha empire.

And his Prime Minister

was Bajirao Ballad.

A sword as swift as lightening...

A will as immovable as the himalayas.

The radiance of his clan on his face...

And only one dream in his eyes...

To see the Maratha flag paint the

skies in Delhi, saffron with victory.

In ten years, Bajirao had captured

half of India with his leadership...

political prowess

and unmatched battle skills.

Stories of Bajirao's

valour made headlines...

from the Nizam in South,

to the Mughals in the north.

We shall fulfil King

Shivaji's dream...

Defeat the Mughals

and make India a hindu state.

Unlike the enemy's

jewels and wealth...

our treasury is rich with blood,

ready for sacrifice.

We owe our every breath

to the Maratha empire.

We are the thunder

in the face of any storm...

And we are a sea of

fire in the face of thunder!

Bajirao Ballad shall break

away all shackles of defeat...

and unfurl the

saffron flag in victory.

(War Cry)

While Bajirao was weilding his sword

to change the map of India...

A magnificent palace,

Shaniwar Wada,

was being constructed in Pune,

in his honour.

(Chants)

Kashi, where are you going in

the middle of prayers?

Bhanu has come!

Bhanu who?

A dear childhood friend...

I'll be right back with her.

Be back soon!

Yes, right away.

When will Kashi ever learn!

Bhanu, when did you arrive?

And why are you out here,

you should've come into the prayer service.

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