EXTERIOR - SKY - DAY
The camera is moving toward an Indian city. We are high and
far away, only the sound of the wind as we grow nearer and
nearer, and through the passing clouds these words appear:
"No man's life can be encompassed in one telling. There is
no way to give each year its allotted weight, to include
each event, each person who helped to shape a lifetime. What
can be done is to be faithful in spirit to the record, and
to try to find one's way to the heart of the man..."
And now we are approaching the city, the squalor of the little
shanty dwellings around the outskirts, the shadows of large
factories... And as we move nearer, coursing over the parched
terrain, the tiny fields of cultivation, strands of sound
are woven through the main titles, borne on the wind, images
from the life we are seeking:
"Who the hell is he?!", lower class British: "I
don't know, sir."... "My name is Gandhi. Mohandas K.
Gandhi."... A woman's voice, tender, soft: "You are my best
friend, my highest guru... and my sovereign lord."... A man
"I am asking you to fight!"... An angry aristocratic
"At home children are writing 'essays' about
him!"... the sound of massed rifle fire, screams...
EXTERIOR - CITY - DAY
And now we are over the city, coming in toward a particular
street in the affluent suburbs of New Delhi... there are a
few cars (it is 1948), and we are closing on a milling crowd
near the entrance to one of the larger homes.
We see saris, Indian tunics, a sprinkling of "Gandhi" caps,
several tongas (two-wheeled, horse-drawn taxis)... the shreds
of sound continue -- American woman, flirtatious, intimate:
"You're the only man I know who makes his own clothes."
Gandhi's laugh... The sound of rioting, women's cries and
screams of terror... An American voice: "This man of peace"...
And as the titles end we begin to pick up the sounds of the
street... an Australian and his wife, a BBC correspondent...
all in passing, as the camera finally closes and holds on
one young man:
BIRLA HOUSE - EXTERIOR - DAY
Godse steps from a tonga as the crowd begins to move toward
an entrance-way at the back of a long wall.
HOUSE SERVANT'S VOICE
He will be saying prayers in the
garden -- just follow the others.
In contrast to those about him, there is tension in Godse's
face, an air of danger in his movements.
He glances at two policemen who are talking casually, absorbed
in their own gossip -- then he looks back at another tonga
that pulls up just behind his. Two young men (Apte and
Karkare) meet Godse's gaze, and again we get the sense of
They descend and pay their driver absently, their eyes
watching the crowd.