The Breadwinner

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Anything written,

anything read.

Pashto and Dari.

Beautiful items for sale.

Anything written, anything read.

Pashto and Dari.

Beautiful items for sale.

I saw you serve a woman!

I saw you with my own eyes!

- No, I... I... I didn't...

- You were! I saw you!

- Anything written,

anything read. Pashto and Dari.

Beautiful items for sale.

Parvana...

...it's the only thing of value

we have left.

I never wore it.

Not even once!

Where would you

wear it, Parvana?

Let's continue

your studies, all right?

- Yes, Baba.

- Now, what can you tell me

about the Silk Road?

The Silk Road...

Baba, I can't remember

about the Silk Road.

Maybe if we think of it

like a story, huh?

Stories remain in our hearts

even when all else is gone.

Our people have

always told stories

from our very beginning,

when we were Parthia

and Khurasan.

A fractured land

in the claws

of the Hindu Kush mountains,

scorched by the fiery eyes

of the northern deserts.

Black rubble earth

against ice peaks,

our land

was the petrified skeleton

of a monster.

We were Auriana,

the land of the noble

and honorable.

We were a pathway

to everywhere,

carrying goods

from east to west.

We studied the stars and began

to see order amidst the chaos.

We were scientists,

philosophers and storytellers.

Questions sought answers

and then more questions.

We began to see

our place in the universe,

but we were at the edges

of empires

at war with each other

as borders were defined

and redefined

over thousands of years.

Of these mighty rulers

came Cyrus the Great of Persia,

then Alexander the Great

of Macedon,

then came the Mauryan Empire,

Genghis Khan, and so on

and so on. Each time

there was bloodshed,

and each time

there were survivors.

The pattern

repeating itself endlessly.

When I was young, Parvana,

I knew

what peace felt like

here, in this city.

Children went to school,

women went to university;

all the empires

forgot about us...

for a while, at least.

But it did not last.

The ground became weak

under our feet,

always uncertain.

First came a coup d'tat,

then an invasion,

then a civil war.

In the chaos,

some looked to those

who might restore order...

but at a great cost.

We have determined

specific dignity for women!

Women should not go outside

and attract

unnecessary attention!

If a woman shows herself,

she will be cursed

by Islamic Sharia

and should never

expect to go to heaven.

Everything changes, Parvana.

Stories remind us of that.

Parvana?

Were you listening at all?

Yes, Baba.

Why don't you tell me

about our nomadic ancestors

and their hills of gold?

Well?

2,000 years ago...

Yes?

2,000 years ago...

there was a Bactrian princess

who had a crown...

- And?

- And...

- Parvana?

- Away!

Keep away from my things!

Go away!

I said go away

you silly dog!

Hey! Hey, you!

What do you think you're doing?

Why is this girl shouting?

She is only a child.

She meant nothing by it.

She's drawing attention

to herself!

She should be at home,

not displaying herself

in the market.

- I have no son at home

except an infant. I need

my daughter to help me.

Stand up when we talk to you!

I said stand up.

I know you.

- Yes, Idrees.

I was your teacher once.

You were a good student.

You wasted my time,

teaching me things of no worth.

I have joined theTaliban

and now I fight

the enemies of Islam.

Well if I am an enemy,

then for my sins,

God has taken my leg.

Are you making fun of me,

old man?

I lost my leg in the war.

The war we fought together.

How old is the girl?

- Idrees...

- She is a child.

She's old enough to marry!

I'll be looking for a wife soon.

She's already been

promised to someone.

Well, she should

cover herself properly!

Maybe you should

stop looking at her.

- What did you say to me?

- I said, "Stop looking at her!"

- I can have you killed!

- Idrees...

- You watch what you say!

- That's enough! Come on!

Are you all right?

Yes, Baba.

That's my girl.

Let's go home now.

Parvana?

You told that boy

I was promised to someone.

Am I getting married?

Of course not!

You are still a child.

I want you playing

and telling stories.

I'm too old for that now.

Too old for stories?

You've always loved stories.

What's the use?

I'll have a word with Mama-jan

and we'll sort it all out.

Please don't

mention the dress.

...then I'll never

hear the end of it.

- The end of what?

- Nothing, Mama-jan.

We're not selling

Parvana's good dress!

Baba! That's not what I meant.

We need

the money, Baba.

Well, we'll hold off for a bit.

I think business will pick up.

If business picks up,

then we won't have to sell it.

Sure, when the sky

is fallen and the earth is hard.

We will have to sell it soon.

Well, what about

a little story

before dinner and we'll forget

all about dresses for a while?

Maybe Parvana would like

to read something for us.

Not right now, Mama-jan.

I'm tired.

- She's not a child anymore,

she tells me.

So, she doesn't like stories.

Don't be in such a hurry

to grow up, my sweet girl.

It might not be

all that you expect.

We're out of water. You didn't

bring enough this morning.

There's half a bucket

by the door!

When I was young enough

to fetch water,

the buckets were never empty.

- Hey!

- Girls, stop it!

- Either you go out

and get more water after dinner,

or you can wash

Zaki's dirty diapers.

How are you feeling?

Better...

now that you're here.

Maybe if you didn't wash

your hair so much, we wouldn't

run out so quickly, eh?

- Parvana...

You should

have some respect.

Why don't you eat?

Hm? Things always look better

when your belly is full.

- Yes, Mother.

Zaki! Zaki!

Wait 'til

I pull up your sleeves!

No, Mama-jan! No, Mama-jan!

There. There you go.

Don't eat all the

raisins, Parvana.

Leave them for Zaki.

- Why don't you give him

that big raisin

on your chin, Soraya?

Oh, but it's not a raisin.

It's a big, hairy mole.

Parvana...

Apologize to Soraya.

Parvana.

He's in there!

I saw him!

If there are women present...

- Baba?

...cover yourselves now!

That's the man!

An enemy of Islam!

He's got forbidden books and

he's teaching the women

with them!

Nurullah Alisai! You must

come with us quietly, or it will

be worse for you!

Baba!

- You can't take him!

- Baba!

Mama-jan!

Where is he being taken?

To prison.

They'll teach him a good lesson

in Pul-e-Charkhi.

Baba!

Mama-jan?

Can I light the lamp?

Hush, Parvana.

You'll wake Zaki.

But if they let Baba go,

he'll need the light

in the window to see home.

How could he come home?

He doesn't even have his stick

to walk with.

Now, go back to sleep.

It will be all right.

How do you know that,

Mama-jan? How do you know?

Be quiet, Parvana. She has

enough to worry about.

Hey! Zaki! Stop it!

Get up, Par vana.

Stop laying around.

- Why? What's going on?

You and I are going

to find Baba.

The boy said he was being taken

to Pul-e-Charkhi prison,

so that's where we are going.

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