I was eight years old,
living in Lahore in March of 1947,
when the British Empire in lndia
started to collapse.
Along with talks of lndia's independence
from Britain came rumblings
about its division into two countries,
Pakistan and lndia.
Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs who had lived
together as one entity for centuries
suddenly started to clamor
for pieces of lndia for themselves.
The arbitrary line of division
the British would draw
to carve up lndia
in August of 1947
would scar the Subcontinent forever.
Oh, God!
What have you done, Lenny-baby?
I thought Americans had dropped
another atom bomb.
Yousaf, come and see.
What will Madame say?
Good God!
My sweet!
What's one plate?
Break a hundred.
Nanny.
Madame.
Madame, I've heard before the British
give us independence,
they will dig a long canal.
One side, independent lndia;
one side, Pakistan.
If they want two countries,
that's what they'll do, right, Madame?
What rubbish, Shanta.
It's a sin to cut flowers after sunset.
They're sleeping.
Just as well.
Imagine their pain if they're awake.
Here, have a roti.
No thanks.
Have one;
you need strength
to look after that rascal Lenny
and her cousin Adi.
He's a terror.
Don't be so hard on them.
They're asleep by now.
Mr. Singh.
He owns buffaloes.
Mrs. Buffalo.
Mr. Rogers, Head of Police.
Shut up, I know.
Shut up, you white man!
You son of a fool!
You white monkey!
Me too.
Let's go, Masseur.
Come, Lenny-baby, sit.
Did you know, Lenny-baby is afraid
of your lion in the zoo?
Don't worry Lenny-baby.
I'll hold on to his chain real t-t-tight.
He won't dare h-h-hurt you.
Don't be scared.
Nobody lets the lion out of the cage.
Besides, the cage is so strong,
even a hundred lions can't break it.
And I feed the lion a juicy goat each day.
So why would he want to eat
a stick like you?
Would your face were pockmarked
like the moon.
Sars your gentle beauty would festoon!
In beauty's grindstone,
one grain got stuck.
Why worry, Dil Navaz?
The one you love has better luck.
I've invented an oil that grows hair
on bald heads.
It has fish and mustard oil, pearl dust,
and many herbs.
Careful, Shanta.
It'll grow hair on your fingers.
Good God!
That's nothing, Hasan.
I've invented a fertility pill.
Really?
I'll try it.
I'm not that young anymore.
You idiot, it's not an aphrodisiac.
It's a fertility pill for women.
But it's so potent
it can make men pregnant.
What's the news
from the Viceroy's house?
I've heard Gandhi, Nehru, and Mountbatten
are really tight.
Really?
If they are that close,
who will champion us Muslims?
And who will help Jinnah Sahib?
Master Tara Singh
and his bleating herd of Sikhs?
Dil Navaz, who are you calling
b-b-bleating sheep?
Y-y-you!
Listen.
Unless you stop talking
about Hindus and Muslims,
I'll stop coming to the park.
This is just a discussion amongst friends.
But if you don't like it, we'll stop.
Okay, friends, God be with you.
Lenny-baby, you'll get tired.
Come ride on my bicycle.
The doctor says she needs exercise.
What does the doctor know?
You tired, Lenny-baby?
Ver-r-ry tired.
Listen, Shanta.
In the eyes of God,
we are all equal.
You're a Hindu; I'm a Muslim.
What's the difference?
Again Hindu-Muslim talk?
We'll stop coming to the park.
Nowyou'd better go.
I have work.
What work?
Washing and ironing
and dusting Madame's room.
I'll help.
I'm very good at dusting.
Are you crazy?
Mummy will kick you out
in one minute.
Let me be with you for a while.
Okay, but only for ten minutes.
Get lost!
You are totally shameless.
Don't be angry.
Go or I'll tell Madame.
I'm sorry. Please forgive me.
Why? You'll never change.
Why can't you be like the Masseur?
He's such a gentleman.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Of no use to the world, or to me,
this unfeeling heart God's given thee.
You rascal.
What are you doing?
You're so spoiled, if I dropped you,
people would thank me.
Put me down, you bastard!
I'm going to drop you on your face!
Someone save me! Help!
Put her down right now!
On one condition:
You have to come to my house,
or I'll drop your Lenny-baby.
Okay, I'll come. Put her down.
And you!
Why are you smiling at him?
Is he your hero?
Come on, you rascal.
So when are you coming to visit?
What?
Get lost before I beat the hell out of you!
We've come, lce Candy Man!
Welcome, welcome, happy spring!
You're beautiful.
Go on, you flatterer!
Come and fly a kite and
celebrate this spring festival.
Forget your creaking bones today.
You fly; I'll watch.
Look. Like this?
Careful, Shanta.
Don't break it.
I'll showyou howto fly it.
There are many types of kites.
See that one?
That's the king of all kites.
I didn't knowyou were such an expert.
It's just a hobby.
Even I want to fly it. Teach me.
Not so heartlessly.
Treat the kite like a lover.
Woo it.
When it acts difficult, let it go.
And when you have control,
bring it closer.
Rascal!
Look!
They are going to cut our kite!
No way!
Look carefully as I cut their kite.
You've cut it!
What!?
They have to, to survive.
He wouldn't let us enter lndia.
A bowl of milk with sugar inside.
Sweet but invisible.
Understand?
Papoo, quiet!
Would you like a ride?
Yes.
But...
Sit in front. It's safer.
Good God!
Please sit.
Have a long life, children!
Oh, my back!
I'll help.
Just push the car. Push it!
What are you doing, Papoo?
You're a sweeper's daughter.
Finish your own work.
Sop hitting her!
Papoo's mother is beating her again.
Is everything okay at work, darling?
Did you say that, my sweet?
You should not lie.
Long live Pakistan!
Long live Pakistan!
Did you go?
Yes.
Did you pee?
The park has really changed.
Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs
are keeping to themselves.
Only the group around you remains the same.
Yes, Shanta.
We all hover around you,
like moths around a lamp.
Some moths!
You Hindus eat so many beans,
it's not surprising your yogis levitate.
They probably fart their way to Heaven.
- Can I go?
- Yes, go.
So today he's become Allah's telephone.
Nobody has as many sidelines
as our Dil Navaz.
Thank you, Allah, for letting me
connect your followers to you.
Holy man,
we have three daughters.
My wife wants to know
if Allah will grant her a son.
Seven.
Eight.
Six.
Allah!
Do you hear me?
This poor woman wants a son.
She has three daughters.
Do you call this justice?
Allah's been very busy lately.
On one side, independence.
On the other side,
Muslims and Hindus fighting.
Allah!
There is no limit to your generosity.
For you, this son-less woman
is a queen
and will be son-less no more!
What happened?
Holy man,
telephone Allah and ask him,
after the British divide lndia,
what will happen to us?
Sorry, the line is cut off now.
Why is your Allah's line cut off
for the Sikhs?
You idiot, this is a private line.
If you want to ask questions,
telephone your own God.
Wait a minute.
I'll just ask Allah.
Allah, have mercy on us,
have mercy on us.
Allah says,
"When the time for division comes,
there is going to be a huge storm,
and you will all fight like animals."
I have to go.
I have an appointment
with our Muslim Leader, Jinnah.
Papoo is getting married.
Yes, Janoo.
Her Father's arranging her marriage
to a Christian.
Good God, it shouldn't be allowed.
Times are bad.
He's becoming a Christian.
Anyway, these days, his Hindu Gods
don't count for much in Lahore.
Okay?
Keep the box in your cupboard.
You look lovely.
Give this to Papoo,
not her mother.
Wake up, Papoo.
Wake up!
Lame-Lenny, will you ever find
a bridegroom?
Of course, stupid.
Ice Candy Man, Masseur,
Zookeeper, Hari, and even Cousin Adi.
Lenny-baby, come quickly.
Papoo's bridegroom is here.
Papoo's getting married
to a young boy.
In the name of the Father
and of the Son
and of the Holy Ghost, Amen.
Why are they marrying Papoo
to that old man?
Fear is making people do crazy things
these days.
Come here, Chotay!
And take Madam's order!
Two rotis, one daal,
one mattar paneer.
And make sure it is hot.
And what will Lenny-baby have?
Not here.
And what's that?
Bloody English pudding.
Do you Parsees think
you are English or what?
Shame on you!
Leave her alone.
Don't take your anger out
on the child.
Why express sorrow?
Why cast a tear
when stars are so far
but friends are so near?
Well said!
Come and eat.
Just like a Mughal poet.
Forget the Mughals.
Talk about today.
I feel that when the British divide lndia,
they will give Lahore to Pakistan.
There are more Muslims here.
Lahore will stay in lndia.
Hindus own most of the business here.
But Muslims are greater in number here.
So what?
People don't matter; money does.
Money or no money,
we'll put the fear of God
up your Hindu trousers.
It might just be the other way around.
Are you stupid?
Do you knowwhat I want?
The same?
No, not the same.
Bring me lamb chops.
Let him be.
You're too soft-hearted, Hasan.
Hurry up, or I'll break your legs.
W-w-what about us?
We Sikhs own m-more land
than the Hindus or Muslims.
Total lies.
Are you calling me a liar?
If you want to save your lands,
Sher Singh,
become friends with the Muslims.
Even the British say you Sikhs
are a headache,
a bloody nuisance.
We think you're bastards as well.
Listen.
Once lndia is divided,
all Muslims left on the wrong side
of the division line
will have their balls cut off.
Have you gone mad?
We've lived together like brothers
for centuries.
We share the same language,
food, and enemies.
The Sikhs are the fighting arm
of the Hindus,
and they are ready to use it
against us Muslims.
Behold the fighting arm
of the murderous Sikhs!
Don't fool yourself.
Sikhs have a tradition of violence.
Haven't you seen the paintings
of their Gods?
Holding severed heads,
dripping with blood?
You sister-fucker!
Don't talk rubbish.
Our holy Koran lies
in their Golden Temple in Amritsar.
The Sikh faith came about to bring Hindus
and Muslims closer.
So why fight amongst friends?
We'll stand by each other,
won't we?
Yes, we'll stand by each other.
Won't we, Tota Ramji?
Yes, why not?
Sit, Lenny-baby.
No.
Don't go too far.
Refugee camp to the right.
Keep right for the refugee camp.
Good afternoon.
Please come in and sit down.
A cup of tea?
No, thank you.
Even the Malhotras and Guptas have left.
When?
Two hours ago,
to Amritsar City.
How are you, Jaswant?
Good afternoon.
Have you heard the news?
Gurdaspur City has been given to lndia.
Playing God under the ceiling fans
of Lahore Hotel.
The bastards!
They break my country into two pieces
and hand it to us and say,
"Happy lndependence."
Could we leave some of our belongings
with you?
Yes, yes.
Bring whatever you want.
We'll keep them with the Kapoors' things.
Please don't worry.
Lenny-dear, go play with Ayah.
It's twelve hours late.
Any news about the train
from Gurdaspur?
Trust in Allah, brother.
Today on August 1 5th,
the eve of lndia's independence,
there are reports of bloodshed
in Gurdaspur City.
That means the Muslims there
are being butchered.
The real bloodshed will start now.
Millions of Hindus will run from Pakistan
and millions of Muslims from Hindustan.
The Apocalypse is here.
Sher Singh, if the situation worsens here,
you can go to Amritsar.
I'm not going anywhere.
Lahore is my home.
Whoever must go will go.
A train just arrived from Gurdaspur City
filled with dead bodies,
all the Muslim men in it butchered,
and four sacks filled
with women's breasts.
Our Dil Navaz's sisters
were on that train.
We now play for you Prime Minister Nehru's
speech given earlier today in New Delhi
on the auspicious occasion
of lndia's independence.
These politicians speak
with such twisted tongues.
Some independence they give us,
soaked in our brothers' blood.
Ayah?
Yes, Madame?
Some of our friends are leaving Lahore
for Amritsar.
You have relatives there,
don't you?
Yes.
Things might get out of control here.
We think you should go
with them.
But, Madame,
the Parsees aren't taking sides.
Everyone knows that.
As long as I'm with you,
I'm safe.
As you wish.
This is your home, Shanta.
Can I ask lce Candy Man
how his sisters got in the gunny sack?
No! Absolutely not!
Lenny-baby,
just ask him how he is.
Ice Candy Man.
Ice Candy Man!
Ice Candy Man, did you see your sisters
in the gunny sack?
Keep quiet, Lenny-baby!
It's all right.
How are you, Dil Navaz?
Are you okay?
That's the Delhi Gateway.
That's the Lahori Gateway.
And there' s the Mochi Gateway.
Hasan, don't you live there?
And that's Shalmi,
where the Hindus live.
What are these Sikh fuckers doing here?
Why don't they go to lndia?
It's not so easy to leave one's home.
Long live lndia! Death to Pakistan!
Kill the Muslim bastard!
I shouldn't have brought you here.
I want to go home.
Don't worry, Lenny-baby.
As soon as things quiet down,
I'll take you home.
Look, The Hindu tenement is burning!
There goes the arsenal
the Hindus had intended to use on us.
Thank God!
Where did these bastards come from?
They've sprayed the building
with petrol instead of water.
Great! The firefighters must
be Muslim.
Say here.
I'll see if I can help.
This is not only
about Hindus and Muslims.
It's about what's inside us.
Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs--
we are all bastards,
all animals,
Like the lion in the zoo
that Lenny-baby is so scared of.
He just lies there,
waiting for the cage to open.
And when it does,
then God help us all.
Marry me.
If you are with me,
then the animal that's within me
will be controlled.
You know how much I love you.
I'll marry you, lce Candy Man.
Let's go.
It's all right, my baby.
Are you banishing the demons?
Yes, my darling.
Ayah, sit with her.
Is Lenny all right?
Yes, she's fine.
Janoo?
Hmm.
Janoo?
Hmm?
Many, many congratulations.
The Masseur
can kiss Nanny better.
Come and see the refugees next door.
Yousaf says
they're fallen women.
Look, fallen women.
You, come here!
Was your mother raped?
When Hindus attacked our village,
they killed everyone.
I hid under the dead bodies.
They killed your mother?
Yes.
Are you Hindus?
No, Parsees.
Want to play marbles?
After the Hindus left,
I went to look for my mother.
She was in a mosque.
Her hair was tied to the ceiling fan.
She was naked.
It's my birthday.
Do you want some cake?
Cake? What's that?
Remember Kirpa Ram,
that miserly Hindu money-lender?
Well, we packed him off to lndia.
You knowwhat we found
hidden in the walls of his house?
What?
900 gold guineas.
Open your hand.
Keep it. It's for you.
No.
But I brought it for you.
Please keep it.
I don't want it.
Where is Sher Singh?
He seems to have disappeared.
Who's guarding the lion in the zoo?
Nobody.
After the atrocities the Sikhs committed,
it's good he's left.
Muslim refugees here want revenge.
And you, do you also want revenge?
What's it to you?
What kind of Muslim are you?
If you want to know, I'll tell you.
Yes, I've thrown grenades
at Hindus and Sikhs
who I've know all my life.
I want to kill someone for each breast
they cut off my sisters.
You're right, brother.
There are some things
that can drive one mad.
God preserve us now.
I've sent my family to Delhi,
and soon I'll join them.
And you, Hari?
Where will you go?
Where can I go?
I'm becoming a Muslim.
Good. A number of you Hindus
are converting.
While you're at it,
change your name.
Yes, when our friends want to kill us,
then we have few choices.
I should leave Lahore.
Madame says she'll send me
to Amritsar.
Maybe that's best for me.
You don't have to go anywhere.
Don't worry.
I'm here.
Lenny-baby, go to your room.
Don't cry, Shanta.
here.
Why don't we get married?
So what if I'm a Muslim?
I'm yours and always will be.
Let's go to Amritsar.
I'll become a Hindu.
Marry me, Shanta.
Yes.
Sher Singh,
it's me, Hasan.
These days,
one can't be too sure.
I didn't mean to scare you.
It's all right.
Even a sneeze is a cause
for worry these days.
I've made arrangements for us
to cross the border to Amritsar.
Will there be any danger?
No.
Ahmed Ali is doing good business
hustling Hindus and Sikhs out of Lahore.
He wants money in advance.
All of you should get some rest.
It's a long journey ahead.
Son, what you've done for us,
Have a long life, son.
How can we ever thank you?
Sher Singh is like my brother.
Have a long life, son.
May the ten Sikh Gurus bless you
Madame, he's becoming a Hindu.
Madame?
What is it, Shanta?
Madame, I'm getting married.
Really?
To whom?
Dil Navaz, lce Candy Man?
No, no, to Hasan the Masseur.
Madame, he's becoming a Hindu.
We'll leave Lahore and go to Amritsar
and get married there.
Madame, you're not angry,
are you?
Angry?
No, no, not at all.
This is very good news.
Does Lenny know?
No.
When are you leaving?
Hasan says really soon.
Don't tell Lenny,
or she'll come in your trousseau!
But Lenny-baby...
Don't worry.
I'll take care of everything.
Okay, Madame, I'll go now.
Shanta, wait.
Madame, but this is gold.
Keep it carefully.
This is for you too.
Make sure Hasan talks with us
before you leave.
Hari, why did you cut
your pigtail?
Lenny-baby, don't call me Hari.
My name is Himmat Ali now.
Where is Nanny, Hari?
Sorry, I mean Himmat Ali.
At home.
What did they do to you, my friend?
No.
Lenny-baby, let's go!
No.
Come on. Let's go!
We shouldn't be here.
But the Masseur!
He's dead.
Get inside! Hide in my bedroom!
Phone my husband!
Praise Allah!
Praise Allah!
The police are coming.
We are the police.
What are you bastards up to?
Where are all the Hindus?
Get them out.
There are no Hindus here.
This is a Parsee house.
Where is Hari the gardener?
Hari has become a Muslim.
Now his name is Himmat Ali.
Tell him to recite the Kalma.
There is no God but God,
and Mohammed is his prophet.
Let's see if you're a proper Muslim.
Undo your salwar.
Get away!
I vouch for him.
Why don't you ask the barber?
He circumcised him.
There's no barber here.
Great!
The barber did a good job
on his penis!
Bastards!
Using religion for private fun.
Shame on you!
Where's Moti?
Here he is.
He's become a Christian.
Yes, Mr. David Masih.
The priest married his daughter
to a dwarf.
I was there.
So he's become a black-faced gentleman.
Mr. Latrine Cleaner,
David Masih.
Now he'll sail off to England
and marry a white woman.
Where's the Hindu woman, that nanny?
She's gone.
She's gone nowhere.
I told you, she left Lahore.
He's lying!
Why are you lying, lmam Din?
If that is so, then swear by Allah.
Don't take Allah's name
and defile it with your dirty tongue.
So you're not ready
to take an oath, liar.
I swear by Allah, she's gone.
What the hell's going on here?
Get out of this place!
It's all right, Madame.
Don't be scared, Lenny-baby.
I'm here.
I knowwhat will make Lenny-baby smile.
Ice cream.
Tell me where Nanny is.
I've come for her.
She's here, isn't she?
You know I'll do anything for her.
Where is she?
She's inside in Mummy's bedroom.
She's hiding inside.
Ice Candy Man, lce Candy Man, I lied!
She's not here! She left!
I lied! She's gone to Amritsar!
Madame!
Madame, tell Hasan!
Two hundred and fifty years
of the British Empire ended in 1947,
but what's there to show for it,
except a country divided?
The massacres and kidnapping,
vendettas and more violence,
was it all worth it?
Fifty years have gone by
since I betrayed my Ayah.
Some say she married lce Candy Man.
Some say they saw her
in a brothel in Lahore,
others that they saw her
in Amritsar.
But I never set eyes on her again.
And that day in 1947 when I lost Ayah,
I lost a large part of myself.
Over one million people were killed
during lndia's division.
Seven million Muslims and five million
Hindus and Sikhs were uprooted
in the largest and most terrible exchange
of population known to history.