Children of War Page #4

they'll run at 200!

- Is it?

- Do you want to see?

- Show...

- Come,

Come, come, come...

make sure to run, yeah?

Look now

Somebody stop them!

Where did they go?

Run, you fools...

Run!

You lose every time.

Oh no!

What have you done?

I lost because

of these animals.

You!

Let them be.

There are many more,

where they came from.

Lets go!

Raziya!

Raziya!

My parents house

no longer exists.

My hushand's house

burnt to ashes,

and my son died before

knowing what a home is.

Where are we going

in search of a home now?

Baba says, we will come back.

Come back and stay where?

Next to my son's grave?

Or my parents?

- Joi Bangla!

- Joi Bangla!

- Joi Bangla!

- Joi Bangla!

- Joi Bangla!

- Joi Bangla!

Son, go and call them quickly.

Okay.

After spending the night

in Gopalpur, we thought

we would leave for Charghat...

...but that ill-fated

morning our hopes

were

to suffer yet another blow.

- Raziya!

- Raziya!

Between those

merciless beheadings,

squirting blood

and wailing women,

I saw innocence,

die an innocent death.

Rafiq!

True to his word,

he did not let

anything happen to his sister.

These muted pathways

wailing walls

and shutters to a

window without a view

On annulled earth

He quivering gates

to the stench of burnt souls

The blood that flows

from a mother's breast

now lies lifeless

It will run through

the gutters

and eventually clot

Blood is after all blood

it will eventually clot

Words dripping with blood

and tongues that

brand these words

Whichever language it speaks

whatever faith it follows

blood is after all blood

it will eventually clot

The predators

were our very own

their faces and

their god our own

but where was this Lord?

Beyond the horizon

riding the clouds

making it rain blood

Blood!

Oh Lord,

what have you created?

The earth is soaked in blood

Whose path is this?

Whose domain is this?

Where is that place

where my home used to be?

Where is that place?

Why have we lost

so many innocent lives?

Because of you!

I haven't done

anything Mojid Sahb.

I'm right here.

But your allies are all there!

It's a shame.

I can't believe that people

like you live in this country.

I had no one in my life,

I knew only you

and then,

the teachers in the Madrasa.

It was you, who put me

in the Madrasa, Mojid Sahb

I learnt whatever

they taught me!

What else could I

have done Mojid Sahb?

But after what

happened in Gopalpur...

Allah will never forgive me...

Mojid Sahb, he...

If this malingerer

wasn't like a son to me,

I might have

even forgiven him.

Mojid Sahb...

If you help us, innocent

lives can still be saved.

Give us the names

of all your allies...

Bhitika! My child!

What are you looking at?

Help me.

In about two hours,

two Pakistani officers

will pass by Kharkharia Mor,

and I have brought

some flowers

to welcome them.

It will take about an hour

to reach there.

Where? The camp?

Kharkharia Mor.

Oh! That means

we've lost this opportunity.

No, not yet.

But we will...

if your men don't hurry.

But you will not go alone...

Ashraf!

These three will go with you.

Joi Bangla!

Joi Bangla!

I've never heard about you

before.

It's best if you don't.

You are Amir, isn't it?

You know of me?

I used to read your articles

very fondly.

You write well.

Used to write...

I don't anymore.

If I hadn't read

your articles,

I would never have had

the courage to do this.

Where have you come from?

Hell.

Don't mind.

I really have come from hell.

My father was also

very fond of your writing.

That day,

he was making breakfast

and I was reading out

the newspaper to him

when suddenly

the door bell rang and...

anyway.

My father was a professor

at the university

and very fond of fish.

Watch your step!

Where is your father now?

In heaven.

Oh! I am sorry.

Why?

I am the one

who has come from hell.

Heaven is a good place,

isn't it?

Amir! I feel no shame

in sharing my story.

This is not just my story.

This is the story of

every woman in Bangladesh.

From here on, we are going to

write our story ourselves.

Will you pen our story?

Anyway...

I heard about you,

it distressed me.

Fida...

her name was Fida.

She's alive.

Dead!

Alive?

I must go back.

Tell Mojid Sahb,

I will be back with more

ammunition and information.

Bhitika, stop!

Where have you seen her?

Somewhere in Dhaka!

She was nothing

more than a living corpse.

Hope is a good thing Amir,

but it's best

to let this one go.

Done with your bath?

Can I go?

Ok go.

Don't bathe so much,

you'll grow old.

What? What are you looking at?

Bury her now,

and you'll do it alone.

She kept trying to wash

the stains off her body,

without water or soap.

She had forgotten that

the stains were not

on her body,

but had seeped

through to her soul.

How could they be cleansed!

Her soul could

only be cleansed with blood.

Just like the soil of

Bangladesh.

Come, eat something.

It's been two days,

since they've given us food.

Hurry up

or it'll be over.

Here, eat this stale bread.

Go, get lost.

What will you eat love?

This is my food.

Here.

Do you want to see

how they fight over bread?

Want to see?

Leave it!

Leave!

Leave it!

- It is my bread!

- Leave it!

What about you?

I have eaten.

Eat a little more.

I saw your photograph today.

Keep eating.

We killed

two Pakistani officers today.

Really!

I haven't lost my mind.

No, not at all.

It's all right. Eat.

Look there.

The razakar at that gate,

stands watch every night.

Please him a bit...

and... he lets you go

to the river to bathe.

Ok.

Yes,

but only the cleaning women

like me.

I steal arms and ammunition

from the armoury.

I haven't lost my mind Fida!

How do you know my name?

Amir told me.

Amir?

He is the one who showed me

your photograph.

Amir is alive?

Thank God!

Amir is alive!

He is with the MuktiBahini.

It's for them,

I took the ammunition.

Pakistan's days are

numbered...

Does he know

that I am here?

Everyone is fighting

for Bangladesh

and he is fighting for you...

Fida.

He will surely come.

Will you meet him again?

I don't know. Maybe.

Maybe not.

Get up.

Haven't you eaten enough?

Meal time is over.

I felt like

screaming my heart out.

We hadn't lost yet.

We were fighting.

Aamir was alive...

and looking for me.

What the...

You seem to be very happy.

Have you lost your mind?

Teacher used to say,

all Muslims are brothers.

Why don't you check

another guava?

I always knew he was lying.

No son, teacher never lied...

and not only Muslims,

all men are brothers.

He must have told you

the story of 'Adam and Hawa'.

We all are their children.

Not them.

They were demons,

disguised in flesh and blood.

And teacher said that

good always wins over evil.

I will fight them.

After the

Bangla music presentation

on the 1st in America,

people are concentrating on

the situation of Bangladesh.

That is all for today.

Stop.

Look back

and see.

If you don't look back,

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