Midnight's Children Page #4

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Well, absolutely, Mr Methwold.

Well, as you say in Hindustani,

Sab kuch ticktock hai.

Everything is tickety-boo.

Absolutely.

And another small detail, Mr Sinai.

Nothing in the house must

change until Independence.

It must be bought complete

with its entire contents.

Janum, everything?

Not even a spoon can be thrown?

And this lamp... for two months?

Well, Mr Sinai?

Yes sir, Mr Methwold?

One other little condition.

We will take a cocktail here,

in the grounds of Buckingham Villa,

every evening until

my departure from India.

Very well.

Good night ladies,

good night, ladies...

This is Wee Willie.

Local tramp and his wife, Vanita.

You'll be seeing a lot of them.

farewell ladies, farewell ladies...

farewell ladies...

...we're going to say goodnight.

Good night ladies...

Good night ladies...

Sings well, your Wee Willie.

Damn silly name, though.

But you gave it to him.

So I did. Amongst other things.

Good night ladies...

...good night ladies...

we're going to leave you now.

We're going...

...to say good night!

Very good, Willie.

Wee Willie Winkie is my name;

to sing for my supper is my fame.

I hope you are com-for-table

...or are you come-for-tea?

Oh, joke-joke ladies and ladahs!

Bottoms up.

Fix you another one?

How kind. Thank you, Mr Sinai.

Pretty girl, that.

Must be due around

about the same time as you.

Sab kuch ticktock hai.

Everything is indeed, tickety-boo.

Tickety-boo...

I think, Madame,

you're going to have a baby boy.

Joe! My God!

What are you doing here?

You and your politics!

Against the rich.

The rich need to become poor,

and the poor rich.

Understand, Mary?

You need money?

- No.

Pakistan and India were born washing

themselves in one another's blood.

The empire on which

the sun never sets.

But I will not describe it.

I will avert my eyes

from the violence.

Selfish perhaps,

but excusably so in my opinion.

After all,

one is not born every day.

Long years ago we made

a tryst with destiny.

And now the time comes when

we shall redeem our pledge...

...not wholly...

...or in full measure,

but very substantially.

Busy night!

Joe!

I need to get out of Bombay.

They're after me.

We need to do it now, Mary.

The real revolution.

Say you love me.

Say it once.

At the stroke of the midnight hour,

when the world sleeps...

India will awake

to life and freedom.

A moment comes,

which comes but rarely in history...

...when we step out...

...from the old to the new.

When an age ends,

and when the soul of a nation,

long suppressed, finds utterance.

At the precise instant of

India's arrival at independence.

On the stroke of midnight,

as a matter of fact,

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