Children of War Page #3

Synopsis: Based on real events in Bangladesh, 1971. The film is about how rape and religion were used as war weaponry. The film deals with the birth of Bangladesh in 1971, focusing on the genocide and when 400,000 women were raped and 3 million people were killed. As the film progresses towards its climax, the three stories begin to intertwine with one another.
 
IMDB:
6.8
Year:
2014
160 min
45 Views


when you will return

amongst your people.

We will also come with you,

en route our village.

We will come together.

Come with us.

Good-bye Ro-ona aapa

You know that we are

going to Charghat, don't you?

The same place you had

promised your father to go to.

Said bye to everyone.

Alright.

Ok then,

may god be your guardian.

Kausar, why don't the two

of you also come with us?

Why do you want

to stay here alone?

Get up! Let's go.

Come on.

I will come along.

Rafiq! Come.

Please come.

In the darkness of our reality

we look for fragments of

our existence

In the darkness of our reality

we look for fragments

of our existence

With the touch of every breath

we hope for familiarity

We look for our reflections

and footprints in time

We look for our reflections

and our footprints in time

We are where we were

but our world

has drifted away

Our own shadows have left us

Our shadows have left us

to become one with the night

Would you extend a hand

and listen to the

woes of our hearts?

Soaked in tears

our faith is limp

In the darkness of our reality

we look for fragments

of our existence

The moon light

is drenched with

someone's sorrow yet again

The moon light

is drenched with

someone's sorrow yet again

Once again a lonely cloud

has wandered from its course

A song that was

not yet complete

A song that was

not yet complete

has lost its tune

along the way

A dream trickles from the eye

and shatters as it falls

Your memory is now

the only ray of hope

In the darkness of our reality

we look for fragments

of our existence

A part of my heart

still questions time

A part of my heart

still questions time

What disrespect did I show?

What was my sin?

The little story of our hearts

The little story of our hearts

still remains unfinished

Why was this sadness

forced upon our smiles?

Why does my heart

feel this piercing pain?

In the darkness of our reality

we look for fragments

of our existence

I 've said this

many times before,

I don't like filth!

And then...

what's wrong in

what I'm saying?

No.

Abstain from anger.

Anger is a sin.

Anger is the

work of the devil.

Would you like to kill me?

I don't appreciate threats.

And I'm not

one bit afraid of death.

But who can trust

you and your mood swings?

A little annoyance and

game over!

Just divulge this one secret,

getting annoyed

at every little thing

getting displeased,

getting irked

where have you learnt

all these traits?

Swear to the gods

I tolerate a lot

of your tantrums.

Isn't it?

All right,

as you wish

I'm but a slave

to your wishes.

No! Listen!

Now tell me,

what is it you like?

The waist?

Or would you like

to go through her heart?

Dirty

Dirty

Dirty

Happy?

Dirty

Dirty

Dirty

Open it!

They are ashamed of this,

not of what they

do in broad daylight.

You know Amir,

there are three breeds

of men who come here.

First, the kind that imposes

his manhood at gunpoint.

Second,

those pretentious 'god men'

who call themselves

Al Badr and Al Shams

and then,

that patriotic snitch

who with all his loyalty,

betrays the country!

The Pakistanis

call them Razakars.

- What's the news?

- The informer is here.

- If you say...

- Listen to me.

If you don't give

me good news...

I will kill you.

By creating them, the

Jamaat-e-Islami in Pakistan,

had made it certain

that while the Al Badir

makes every night darker,

the Al Shams will

make sure that

every morning is stained

with the colour of blood.

Kushtiya, Jinjira, Chittagong

It's the same

story everywhere.

Sure the Mukti Bahini

is fighting but,

how do we fight against guns

and bullets

with just sticks and sickles?

We can fight with the pen.

They attacked me because

they were afraid of

the power of my words.

Like me, they targeted

journalists, teachers,

professors,

scientists, thinkers

and all those who

they felt threatened by.

Why?

Because they knew these were

the real guardians of freedom.

We will have to instil this

fear within their ranks again.

We should take

out a newspaper.

We will tell the whole

world about their cruelty.

And what will the world do?

The same thing

that our friend,

Archer Blood's government did?

No one will listen, Amir.

The outside world

does not care

and will the people here,

read the newspaper

or save their lives?

The world is ignoring

us today because

we are not important to them,

but the day we kill

three or four of them

they will take note of us.

Our government

has been formed.

What?

Last night in Boidanathola,

the Awami League

formed the government.

- Really!

- Yes!

Just got this information,

- great news isn't it?

- Good news indeed.

Bongabondhu has been named the

first president of Bangladesh

and have called for

Boidanathola to be

named Mujibnagar.

Great!

Even Zia is with us now!

Now tell me Amir,

can you form a government

in such a short time

with your pen?

Mojid Sahb!

Mojid Sahb!

Mojid Sahb!

Why Mojid Sahb?

What conspiracy

are you plotting

behind these closed doors?

Mojid Sahb!

I have told you so many times

to support true Islam,

support Pakistan.

Thirty years ago,

when I picked you up

from a dumpster

in Chittagong,

it didn't occur

to me that one day,

you will teach me

the values of Islam.

Mojid Sahb!

Your understanding

of Islam is quite apparent

by the methods your Pakistani

friends have adopted.

Do you think you own Islam?

Or does Allah belong

only to Pakistan?

When night falls,

flocks of birds return home.

For us it was a journey away

in the darkest period

of our lives.

My eyes were witnessing this

exodus for the second time

in their seventy

years of existence.

Just a couple more hours

and we will reach Gopalpur.

From there,

it's just two more days

to Charghat.

India begins and

our journey ends.

Baba!

Baba!

Baba!

Pakistani!

Hide, hide here

behind the trees.

You fool!

Leave them here and hide.

Who is it?

It's been days

since I smoked.

Right.

Lets find a Bengali guy.

Look.

Oi!

Oi! Wait, wait, wait, wait...

Who is it?

Amazing!

Not a person in sight.

Where do you think

you're headed Mister?

Are you deaf?

Keep him quiet.

He doesn't say anything.

Speak up, devil's children.

Sir here, is a good man.

He will escort you home.

He will get us all killed!

Just look at his bones,

they are looking so weak.

Say! Milk and cream

is your wife's specialty...

I suggest you should

savor them every day.

Otherwise one day,

you might just disappear.

Disappear, my ass.

I bet they can still

run at a 100 miles per hour.

Are you wearing tin glasses?

100 miles per hour...

I don't think

they can even walk.

Then?

At best, they can crawl.

Really? Ok, let's bet.

For how much?

- 10 Rs.

- 10!

Oi,

I say you're a wealthy man.

Leave the wealth,

you also take it out.

Come on, take it out.

- Here.

- Give me.

Now that's what

I'm talking about.

Now see, they won't

run at a 100 miles per hour,

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    "Children of War" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/children_of_war_5464>.

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