Haque

Sanjay, I've troubled you a lot.

But before leaving, there is something I want you to do.

What are you saying?

There are some pages which hides the bitter truth of my life.

If possible, try to have them published.

So that the world may know why an Indian woman had to take up arms.

I was born is such an environment. . .

where girls are taught to serve their husbands.

When I got married, I moulded myself in my husband's shadows with ease.

His joys were my joys ; his sorrows became my sorrows.

And then came the elections. The elections was in the air.

Why don't you tell me? Why do you need me all of a sudden?

Master, you taught me how to walk on the path of politics.

Now I've tired and fallen. Only you can lift me up.

What's the problem?

My opposition has the government's backing, money, police.

He can do what he wants. All we've have got are some workers.

Today, there were beaten up when they went to put some posters.

Tell me how can I win this election?

You are my disciple. And, I've always sent a hawk to hunt a sparrow.

How is that?

Have to think about it.

Easy! Bring it in carefully!

Did I not tell you to be careful? Saw! You dropped it!

What if it had broken? - Varsha, what's all this?

Look at our son's cradle. It's even got a rattle in it.

To hell with your cradle! We are busy discussing. . .

important politics here and all you care about is your stupid cradle!

Go into your room!

I am sorry!

You have won the elections. - How come?

I'll explain. It's politics, you know.

I am sorry to have yelled at you before all those people.

I know it's bad. I am sorry.

Now get ready. I've to attend a very important election meeting.

What's my business in your meeting? You go ahead.

Don't talk nonsense. I am waiting for you. Just come down.

Listen, I am pregnant and I don't like going out in this state.

Much better! If you attend meetings in your condition. . .

people will appreciate you for understanding politics.

Now, don't be late. I am waiting for you in the car. Get ready fast.

Hey, clear the path !

Down with Mr. Singh !

Stop!

Friends!

Today is the final day of election campaigning.

When me and my wife left home to attend this function,. . .

we were attacked by some henchmen from the Opposition Party.

They attacked the unborn baby of this new era.

And who has nothing to do with politics.

Do you see these stains on my wife's body.

These have splattered on the civilization of this country.

These have splattered on the women of your families.

So, what is your answer to this?

Show this nation that you not only worship peace and harmony. . .

but you also know how to respect the women in your society.

These stains have not splattered on my wife's clothes. . .

but shall nail my enemies in their graves.

But, don't you lose your hopes.

Good, you have come around. Do not worry!

You have suffered just slight bruises. You'll be better in no time.

My baby. . . !

You are young. You will get more chances to become a mother.

Doctor, my baby?

Mr. Singh has won !

The patient Mrs. Singh is complaining of breast pain.

She is lactating and the suckling baby is no more.

There is a baby in the maternity ward born just yesterday.

Give it to Mrs. Singh to suckle.

Where are you taking the baby? - To his mother.

Give the baby to me. I am his mother.

You go back to sleep. I'll bring him back tomorrow.

I say, hand it back to me! I am his mother!

Stop right there! Hand the baby back to me! I am his mother!

Stop! Give me back my baby!

I'll kill you all ! Give my baby back to me!

Let go of me! - What are you doing?

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