Samrat Prithviraj (2022) Movie Script

The shimmer of blood boiling
The surge of strength glistening
A Chauhan, bright as the sun,
who defeats even elephants
Laying a trail of enemy blood
on the earth
His foes have no hope of victory,
a warrior with powerful arms
His arrow can pierce through
seven tree trunks in one go
Prathiraj is like
Mohan from Gokul
Prathiraj is like
Arjun from Kurukshetra
Prathiraj is like
Mohan from Gokul
Prathiraj is like
Arjun from Kurukshetra
Prathiraj is like
Dashanan from Lanka
Prathiraj is like
Ram destroying Ravan
Hail Prathiraj!
Praise to Prathiraj!
The shimmer of blood boiling
Hail Prathiraj!
Long live, Prathiraj!
The surge of strength glistening
Hail Prathiraj!
Praise to Prathiraj!
Hail Prathiraj!
Long live, Prathiraj!
Hail to the Emperor of Afghan!
Hail to the Emperor of Afghan!
Hail to the Emperor of Afghan!
Long live the King of Kings!
Long live the King of Kings!
Bring forth the King's prisoner!
Long live Goddess Bhavani!
Long live Goddess Bhavani!
Long live Goddess Bhavani!
Long live Goddess Bhavani!
Long live Goddess Bhavani!
Long live Goddess Bhavani!
Long live Goddess Bhavani!
A marksman like the mighty Arjun.
Powerful like the strong Bheem
Truthful like the honest Shivi.
Forceful like the roaring Lion
Loyal like the faithful Karn.
Sacrificing like the selfless Bali
Magnanimous like the
large-hearted Indra
Valorous like the brave Balram
Gods in all their excellence.
Imbibed with the wisdom of Ganesh
Prithviraj, whose aim is flawless
Prithviraj, whose aim is flawless
Counted among immortals
like Dhruv
Counted among immortals
like Dhruv
Counted among immortals
like Dhruv
The Sultan is giving you
another chance.
Bow your head before the Sultan
and in return you shall be free.
You shall kill.
Or be killed.
They say you have the special
gift of hearing.
You can attack your foe
by the sound he makes.
Show us your extraordinary skills.
If you escape death today,
then freedom is yours.
Pick up your weapon!
The Sultan will pray for your life.
What is it, Prithvi?
It's going to rain.
I cannot see a single cloud, Prithvi.
No, Uncle. I heard the sound
of a falling raindrop.
You've lost your mind, Prithvi.
Uncle! There's the raindrop!
Power to the mighty lion!
Look out, Your Highness.
A weapon is five hands away,
Your Highness.
Four fingers away,
Your Highness.
I thank you, Sultan,
for giving me the chance
to fight your lions.
But I would not call this a real
contest - to kill or be killed.
A true contest would be if a Ghazni
soldier was to behead Prithviraj,
then all the Hindustani prisoners
in Ghazni could be beheaded.
But if I behead that Ghazni soldier,
then all Hindustani prisoners must be
returned to their motherland.
The only condition I ask:
before every attack,
your soldier must challenge me
by making a sound.
Your Highness, wake up!
It is me, Chand.
Your Chand Vardai.
Wake up, Your Highness.
The breath that melts swords of steel
That breath is Prithviraj
The beating hearts of foes
await his arrow
That arrow is Prithviraj
Death stalks him like a shadow
That man is Prithviraj
That colour is Prithviraj
Princess, a Brahmin from Ajmer
has come.
Our respects, Honoured One.
God bless you.
The King of Ajmer has sent this,
Any message?
Tell the Ajmer King to meet her
without delay.
How long must we distract ourselves
with songs of his greatness?
Tell the King he must not forget love
in his many battles,
as love itself is a battle.
- Pray tell him...
- Stop!
That will do.
May I leave?
We shall see how the Ajmer King
defends himself against this arrow.
Attacking me with an arrow
inscribed with my own name!
'Send me a painting of you in colour
like the image described in verse.'
Chand! Send colour to Kannauj.
I want to see if the moon can be
painted by love.
'My respects, my lord.
'I have adorned my brow with
this mark of love.
'Even the Almighty cannot rub it off.
'I send you a perfume I have distilled
with my own hands.
'My lord, sprinkle it on your pillow.
'Your dreams shall be pleasant ones.'
Is this beauty a mirage,
or is it real?
Legends have it that it is real,
my lord.
But why is this painting incomplete?
Because the story of love
is incomplete.
You must complete it.
A gift from Princess Sanyogita.
Happy Holi, Chand.
Spring is here! Spring is here!
Spring is here!
Love has cast a spell on me
A river of colour flows
through my heart
A song rings out in my heart
The hermit's song of love
My lover is like Lord Krishna
He does not appear before me,
yet fills my eyes
He makes my heart brim over with joy
The world dances with delight
O beloved, let us cross
the boundaries...
...that separate us
O beloved, let us cross
the boundaries that separate us
Love has cast a spell on me
A river of colour flows in my heart
Colour us today, colour my body
and soul
Colour us today, colour my body
and soul
Colour us today, colour my body
and soul
From your name the colour red flows
Spring has turned red
Red is real. Red the mirage
Red is my heart's song
The ruby red of my lips
Is imprinted on the glass cup
Like your spell fills me
Neither asleep, nor awake
Since falling under your spell
The world has turned to shiny gold
O beloved, let us cross
the boundaries...
...that separate us
O beloved, let us cross
the boundaries that separate us
Colour us today, colour my body
and soul
Colour us today, colour my body
and soul
O beloved, let us cross
the boundaries...
Colour us today, colour my body
and soul
...that separate us
Colour us today, colour my body
and soul
...that separate us
O beloved, let us cross
the boundaries...
...that separate us
All boundaries crossed
What preoccupies the poet?
The looming calamity.
Your Highness,
the envoy of Mir Hussain,
Ghori's brother, wishes to see you.
Mir Hussain seeks your protection,
King of Ajmer.
Has he lost favour in Ghazni?
The brothers are sworn enemies now.
Mir Hussain has run off with
the Sultan's concubine.
Her name?
Does Chitrarekha love Mir Hussain?
Immensely, King of Ajmer.
Why does she not revolt?
What significance does a courtesan have
when compared to a sultan?
Sundardas! The King of Ajmer will
announce his decision shortly.
Till then kindly rest
in the guest chambers.
Why fight with the Sultan
over a courtesan, Prithvi?
Is a courtesan unworthy
of respect, Uncle?
You have forgotten Mehmood
of Ghazni's past deeds.
I have not forgotten, Uncle.
I am aware that Mehmood of Ghazni
destroyed the Somnath temple,
and placed the broken pieces
of Lord Shiv's idol
outside the Ghazni mosque,
so all who entered scraped
the dust off their feet on it.
Yet you will shelter Mir Hussain?
Why punish him for Mehmood's
I see no difference between
Mir Hussain and Mehmood.
Forgive me, Uncle.
But I cannot forget my Supreme Duty
for fear of war.
It is a Hindu's Duty to shelter
those who seek refuge.
I shall fulfill my Duty till the
last drop of my blood falls.
I have lived for Duty.
I will die for Duty.
Those who are not with me,
say 'no.'
Those who are with me,
say 'yes.'
At your command, Your Highness.
My child! Do not speak of dying
or of killing.
I await your command.
If I do not bring back the Sultan alive
from the battlefield,
I do not deserve to be called Kanha.
The shimmer of blood boiling
The surge of strength glistening
Prathiraj is like
Mohan from Gokul
Prathiraj is like
Arjun from Kurukshetra
Prathiraj is like
Dashanan from Lanka
Prathiraj is like
Ram destroying Ravan
Hail Prathiraj!
Praise to Prathiraj!
Rahman, prepare to welcome them.
The Lion of Hindustan is approaching.
Is it indeed him?
A man followed by a hundred warriors
and courtiers
ready to die for country and honour
can only be Prithviraj.
Hail Prathiraj!
Long Live Prathiraj!
Welcome to Hindustan,
Mir Hussain.
King of Kings, accept my salaam.
How unfortunate!
Were it the King of Delhi
who protected Mir Hussain,
I could have attacked
and won Delhi.
Qutub-ud-din Aibak!
You gifted Chitrarekha to me?
Yes, Sultan.
Now gift Ajmer to me.
Last call for all those who wish
to make a plea today.
Or the court will adjourn.
May I speak, my lord?
The Ghazni Sultan has a request
for the Ajmer King.
With your permission, this slave,
Qutub-ud-din Aibak,
would like to convey
the Sultan's request.
Permission granted.
The King has committed a crime
by protecting Mir Hussain.
Is love a crime?
A harlot's love is fickle.
If my lord so desires, you may keep
But you must hand over Mir Hussain
to the Sultan.
Your safety depends on this.
Tell the Sultan that Prithviraj
prefers to offer his head
than let anyone under his protection
come to harm.
As long as a warrior or soldier
of Prithviraj lives,
Mir Hussain will stay in Hindustan
with his head held high.
Then the King must pay heed
to the Sultan's message.
If Mir Hussain is not returned,
your warriors and soldiers
will meet their end.
It will be the end of your kingdom
and Hindustan itself.
The Sultan should not entertain
such dreams.
His dreams will be destroyed
and those eyes that covet Hindustan.
Tell the Sultan - if he wants
to wager war, I am ready.
We shall meet next
on the battlefield.
The festival of battles is here
Ghori's luck has turned
The festival of battles is here
Ghori's luck has turned
The festival of battles is here
Ghori's luck has turned
- Long live Mohammad Ghori!
- Uncle!
It is not time for Ghori to die.
Be seated, Uncle.
O Bhatt!
Yes, Uncle?
Is it time for me to remove
my blindfold?
The blindfold will be removed, Uncle.
But why sing Ghori's praises?
You are not even drunk.
You fools! It is thanks to you
that I must wear this blindfold.
Only when I confront Ghori
can I untie it,
so naturally I will praise him.
Come now, Uncle!
The blindfold was your punishment
for killing Solanki, the King's guest.
Do not blame us.
Solanki dared to twirl his moustache
arrogantly in front of Prithvi.
And you did nothing.
- What could we have done?
- Killed him.
As I did.
Then we would all be blindfolded.
I will kill anyone who dares
to challenge Prithvi.
It's my vow.
So how could I break it?
Prithvi wanted to put out my eyes
that day.
But since I am his Uncle,
he ordered me to be blindfolded
for the rest of my life.
Prithvi is very fond of me.
So, he said during battle or if I am
making love to a woman,
he will let me untie the blindfold.
Now your wife is no more,
the blindfold stays where it is.
Prithvi did not say I could
make love to my wife only!
The war bugle has sounded.
But you have not removed
your blindfold.
Glory to Mahakal!
Ghori, you shall witness
Uncle Kanha's might!
Hail to Bhavani!
Hail to Amba!
Command us, Prithvi.
Patience, Uncle.
The infidel has come to leap
into the jaws of death.
He erred by making his cavalry
take position at the front.
Chamund! Hada!
Jai Har Har!!
The shimmer of blood boiling
The surge of strength glistening
A Chauhan, bright as the sun,
who defeats even elephants
Laying a trail of enemy blood
on the earth
His foes have no hope of victory,
a warrior with powerful arms
His arrow can pierce through
seven tree trunks in one go
Hail Prathiraj!
Jai Har Har!!
Long live, Prathiraj!
Your Highness,
Chitrarekha wishes to be buried
alongside Mir Hussain.
She spoke of your women
committing sati...
The King has sent me to ask
how you are, Sultan.
Why did your King spare me?
Why did he not behead me?
- Is there anything you want, Sultan?
- Death.
It is death I want.
Can you give it to me?
Can your King give me death?
There is no glory if Prithviraj
slays you once he has defeated you.
His victory lies in beheading you -
despite losing the battle.
Nonsense, slave of Prithviraj!
You will be answered
when we next meet.
When I am there and you.
And death.
Your name, rascal?
Prithvi Chand Bhatt.
Also known as Chand Vardai.
The Sultan is approaching.
Blindfold your eyes. Or the poor man
will turn to ash if you look at him.
Do not mock, child!
Today I will first chop off his head,
then blindfold my eyes.
Do the stars predict the Sultan's death
at Uncle's hands?
Anyone who stops me will die.
Well, Chand?
Why are you silent, Bhatt?
Compose yourself, Uncle.
The Sultan is not destined
to die now.
What nonsense, Chand! I shall
kill him with my bare hands.
Speak, Bhatt.
Ghori cannot die as long as
Prithviraj's courtiers live.
So, I shall kill him today.
Do not challenge death, Uncle.
If you trust your astrological powers,
then tell me when Ghori will die.
The day I die.
When will you die, Bhatt?
If you do not answer me,
then you shall die now.
The day Prithviraj dies.
You have lost your mind, Chand!
The Saviour of Hindustan!
The Sun of Hindustan!
Son of King Someshwara
who has attained Heaven!
May the reign of Prithviraj
be everlasting.
Subjects! Pronounce your judgement
on the Sultan.
Courtiers, your judgement?
Tell me what punishment befits you.
Death is only granted
to the brave, Sultan.
A man who does not respect women
is not brave.
So why must I grant you death?
Today you have the chance,
so slay me.
- You shall not get another chance.
- You are mistaken, Sultan.
Very well. I shall give you
another chance.
You will live to see that chance
does not govern me.
Do not spare me.
You will regret it.
Next time show bravery, Sultan,
not cowardice.
Your Highness.
Give the Sultan a sword, a horse
and provisions, then bid him farewell.
See, Bhatt?
You won, I lost.
Do not be sad, Uncle.
The time to untie your blindfold
is approaching.
Long live!
King of Kannauj!
Ask anything you desire and make
a sacrifice to the Goddess.
What do you still want, father?
Pardon me, Your Majesty.
An envoy from Delhi has come
with an invitation.
Prithviraj shall be crowned
on the throne of Delhi.
Why Prithviraj, King of Delhi?
Without a paternal grandson,
an aging king
must entrust his kingdom
to someone.
But we are closely related to you.
And I am his elder.
So, why not me?
A successor is not chosen
for his lineage,
but for his competence, Jaichand.
What competence do you see in him
that I lack, grandfather?
I did not want to say it.
But listen.
Prithvi is better than you in his sense
of bravery, valour and justice.
Could you fight Ghori to protect
a man seeking shelter?
Having captured Ghori,
could you free him?
You may believe freeing an enemy
is courageous, grandfather,
but not I.
Give Delhi to him if you so choose.
But mark my words, it shan't be his
for very long.
I will take Delhi from him.
'Enough wars!
'Do not forsake love for war.
'Come to Kannauj with your
brave warriors without delay.
'Ask for the hand of the King
of Kannauj's daughter.
'Fulfill your Duty.'
What about our marriage?
To whom?
The Ajmer King must have
young courtiers.
When he comes,
ask him yourself.
What else did you write, Princess?
'I send sacred Ganges water.
'Mix it with the holy water
for the coronation.
'Congratulations on Delhi's throne.'
Glory to Mahadev,
husband of Goddess Parvati!
Glory to Mahadev!
Glory to Mahadev!
Glory to Mahadev!
Glory to Mahadev!
Glory to Mahadev!
Glory to Mahadev!
Glory to Mahadev!
You and Prithvi were born
on the same day and time.
How did your stars go so wrong?
Prithvi is now the Delhi King,
while you remain a humble poet.
Do not think the pen lesser
than the sword, Uncle.
Thanks to Valmiki,
we know of Lord Ram.
Because of Vyas, we know
of Lord Krishna.
Because of Chand,
we know of Prithviraj Chauhan.
Speechless, Uncle?
Pardon, my lord.
The King of Kannauj's brother,
Baluk Rai, is here.
Chand! Does he bring another
invitation for war?
Well, Baluk Rai?
What message do you bring?
An invitation for the Delhi King
to attend
the Kannauj King's
Rajasuya Yagya.
No one challenges Prithvi
while I live.
Quiet, Chand!
Do you know what a Rajasuya Yagya is?
I know, Uncle.
To increase their glory, powerful kings
performed this ritual in ancient times,
demanding taxes from weaker kings.
Those who paid without fuss
were treated like friends.
War would be waged against
the kings who refused.
They were then forced to pay tax.
Do you mean our king must pay tax
and regard Jaichand as the
Supreme King?
Exactly what it means, Hada.
Right, Baluk?
Bowing before the Kannauj King,
will increase the Delhi King's prestige.
Is that all?
Your Highness, you must know
that many of your foes
will attend the Yagya and accept
Jaichand as the Supreme King.
- So, what does your king want?
- Half of Delhi!
You must give half the Delhi kingdom
to its rightful owner.
And then attend the Yagya.
What if our King will not concede
half his kingdom?
Then he must prepare for war.
Glory to Jaichand!
Baluk Rai, forgive my warriors
for any errors committed.
Kindly tell the King of Kannauj
that I accept his invitation.
To war!
If he wants war, so be it.
I asked Prithviraj for half of Delhi,
- Now I will take it all.
- Your Highness.
Announce the Princess's
Swayamvar ceremony.
A Swayamvar now,
Your Highness?
A Swayamvar is the best way
to befriend enemies.
Send an invitation to all friends
and foes of Prithviraj.
One arrow, two targets.
First the Swayamvar,
then the Rajasuya Yagya.
Pardon me, Your Highness.
A Yagya? Without defeating
And why not?
It cannot be held without defeating
the man who refused the invitation.
That is the tradition.
The sacred texts give us ways
to overcome every obstacle.
This is the outcome of challenging
the King of Kannauj!
The Delhi King has become a gatekeeper
at the Kannauj palace.
He is under my command now.
Why is his statue made of gold?
Why not iron?
So everyone who rubs the statue can tell
if the golden warrior is real or fake.
Hejam! The Princess.
Why is this here?
The Princess asks why this statue
stands here.
A Yagya cannot be held unless
the man refusing the invitation
is defeated in war.
But the sacred texts permit it,
if his statue is erected.
That is why Prithviraj Chauhan's
statue stands here, Princess.
Princess Sanyogita's Swayamvar
will be a success.
But the stars...
May I speak in private,
Your Highness?
What is it, Princess?
Why is the Delhi King's statue
at your gate, Your Highness?
All those who attend the Yagya must
serve me as their Supreme King.
The Delhi King disrespected me.
So, I consider him only fit
to be my gatekeeper.
Why insult him so, my lord?
Why does that worry you?
Forgive me.
Statues of warriors stand in temples,
not at palace gates.
If the Delhi King guards anything,
it is Duty.
Do not talk nonsense!
How are you tied to him?
Like the Ganges is tied
to purity.
Like water tied to thirst.
Like eyes tied to light.
- Like fire tied to heat.
- Quiet!
Like flowers tied to fragrance.
Like breath to life.
So kindly have the statue
removed from the gate.
Why such high regard for my enemy?
I lov...
I'll chop your head off! But I will not
allow your desires to be fulfilled.
The statue will remain there till
I make Prithviraj stand in its place.
This is my oath.
Then hear my oath, father.
If I marry anyone in this lifetime,
it will be the King of Delhi, Prithviraj.
- Or I shall remain unmarried.
- Princess!
Forgive her. She is naive.
Restrain her.
Or she will die at my hands
before that gatekeeper.
- What is your wish, my warriors?
- War!
- War.
- War.
I'll be happy if you were insulted
many times,
and that your statue guards
many gates.
Uncle, this is no time to jest.
You are a fool, Chamund.
Insults give warriors the chance
to show their valour and bravery.
Not war.
Bhatt, now I know.
Bravery only laces your poetry.
You are right, Uncle.
But I cannot tolerate anyone
insulting my master.
Your Highness,
allow me to place Jaichand's head
at your feet.
Your Highness, declare war!
I said nothing when you went
against your father.
I have spoilt you.
I gave you your own palace
with no questions asked.
Why do you show contempt now?
You love his enemy and you
oppose your father?
You insult your father and love a man
you have never met.
Why, Sanyogita?
I hear people can get besotted
by the glimpse of the other.
They can become enamoured
in the company of the other.
But I have never seen him.
Do you still think I have committed
a crime?
How can I choose a man in the
Swayamvar whom I do not know?
While I have no right to choose
the man I love.
Do women have no right to love?
Do only men have the right
to love?
Princesses do not marry for love.
You have time for that.
You know the King of Delhi will not
be invited to the Swayamvar.
And his coming here without
an invitation is against tradition.
Forgive my impunity, Your Highness.
But it is my father who goes
against tradition.
This is not a Swayamvar
but a declaration of war.
And I'm being used as a pawn.
Must my wedding be political?
A princess's marriage is political.
I will not allow this shadow to cast
over my marriage, Ma.
Do not be stubborn, Princess.
In our world, it is courageous
to fight for a woman.
A girl obeys her father
before marriage.
After marriage,
she obeys her husband.
And after he dies,
she obeys her son.
This tradition is centuries old.
What if your father marries you
in anger to a common warrior?
What will you do then?
This is a fight for my rights.
I will fight for them,
even if I die fighting.
Then you shall lose this fight.
Even God will not be able
to help you.
When God needs help, even He calls out
to His mother, Your Highness.
You have taught me
where there is Duty and righteousness,
victory will follow.
Then follow your Duty,
and I shall follow mine.
But if you do not partake
in the Swayamvar,
how will you fight for your rights?
Call him here, Ma.
Or I will jump into the
Fire of Sacrifice.
People live for love, Sanyogita.
Rarely do they die for love.
If he loves you truly,
then he will come to uphold
your oath.
If he does not come,
then you shall know
it was not love. But a mirage,
an illusion.
With God as our witness,
let this Swayamvar begin.
Princess Sanyogita!
This Swayamvar is a ceremony
celebrating your choice of husband.
Poet laureates who represent
all the invited princes
will describe the caste,
lineage, gallantry
and other qualities of their princes.
You will then garland the prince
of your choice
and be married to him.
The Gods, Duty and this court
will bear witness to your decision.
Are religious morality and the court
bound by my decision?
Yes, Sanyogita.
Then may this gathering
hear my decision.
I wish to choose the King of Delhi,
Prithviraj, as my husband.
You have no right to choose a man
who was not invited today, Sanyogita.
What tradition allows you to hold
a Yagya by erecting his statue?
And deny I choose him
in the Swayamvar?
I reject such a tradition.
Your Highness, stop!
Your Highness, stop!
- You are a blot on our family name.
- Your Highness.
You betrayer!
Your Highness.
Forgive me, Your Highness.
You gave her the right to choose.
She respected your word
by making her choice.
I will not let you commit this sin.
Take us with you, my lord.
We swore never to leave her side.
If you trust us then come.
Jaichand! I am Uncle Kanha.
Stop us with love in your heart.
Or even death cannot stop us
from taking Sanyogita.
Delhi is far away, Chauhan!
Forgive me, Your Highness.
I am taking my wife away.
Anyone who says he's a man -
attack me face-to-face.
Not in my back.
Keep my daughter happy,
my son-in-law.
Shower them with gold
and silver coins.
Hold on tight, Princess!
Even death cannot loosen my grip,
my King.
If the Princess did not want
a Swayamvar, why invite us?
This is no time to show
your anger, Jaichand.
Say a gracious farewell to all
the princes here.
Any misunderstanding may lead
to bloodshed.
Uncle, he has run away
with my daughter.
Will you fight him in the streets?
Compose yourself, Your Highness.
He behaved like a true warrior
and did not enter the Swayamvar.
He took the Princess away
after she garlanded his statue.
And in the presence of all.
If he did not fight
for a woman's honour,
what kind of a warrior would he be?
Heed my advice. Call him back
and let the Princess marry him.
I will die but I will not allow it,
My oath or my life.
Lose your life!
And put your oath aside.
Accept this insult, my lord.
Your Highness, the army is ready.
Let him go.
It will tarnish our valour
if we let him ride away.
I shall give you the chance to prove
your valour,
but not at this time.
My lord, stay still.
Will you turn me into a statue too?
Let me look at you -
have my heart's fill.
A princess's dream woven on stories
of a prince's valour -
that one day the prince will come riding
on a horse and carry her away.
Dreams do not usually come true,
my lord.
But my dream has.
Why are you looking at me
like that?
Let me look at the poem
that has stolen my heart.
Those poets are liars.
What do you mean?
You are more beautiful
than any poem.
No poet or poem could ever
describe you.
Is it my beauty that you love?
Your passion.
Praise to King Prithviraj Chauhan!
Praise to Princess Sanyogita!
Praise to King Prithviraj Chauhan!
Praise to Princess Sanyogita!
Praise to King Prithviraj Chauhan!
Praise to Princess Sanyogita!
Princess, all the members of
the Chauhan family are here.
Paternal and maternal uncles,
brothers, nephews.
So, show modesty and respect.
And Kanha! Stay silent.
My lord, you're not the only Chauhan.
There are others no less brave.
That is why we shall not allow you
to sully our honour.
You have had your way.
Now you must listen to us.
Return the Princess to her parents
We shall talk to Jaichand and arrange
a traditional wedding.
If girls now choose their husbands
by garlanding them,
and then men whisk them away,
it is the end of all moral order.
Princess, you must never forget:
A bride leaves her father's home
in a palanquin,
and her husband's home
on a funeral bier.
Forgive me, my lord.
Why are the chains of servitude
for women only?
Forgive my speaking boldly, Princess.
Must we watch our daughters
gallop away
and keep our swords unsheathed?
My lords, my family are devotees
of Krishna.
I was raised listening to songs
eulogising Him.
Who can convince my father that
Krishna took Rukmini away?
The same Krishna helped Arjun take
Subhadra, his own sister.
And with Shiv, Sati...
Princess! You dare argue
with the Royal Council?
Your Highness! Silence your wife.
Prithviraj Chauhan is not one
to silence a woman, Uncle.
My lord, you make matters worse.
This does not bode well.
Respected Uncle!
Thousands have sacrificed their lives
in the name of Duty.
So another Chauhan will do
the same.
This is the first time
I encounter
A half-crazed evening
With you by my side, O beloved
Grains of sand feel
as soft as velvet
This is the first time
I encounter
A half-crazed evening
With you by my side, O beloved
Grains of sand feel
as soft as velvet
Stepping out of a painting
You appear
Stepping out of a painting,
you appear before me
These skies, these rivers
these paths to our hearts
These skies, these rivers,
these paths to our hearts
Soft as velvet
Soft as velvet
Your love is as soft as velvet
Soft as velvet
Soft as velvet
Your love is as soft as velvet
O this heart's longing
and yearning
With you by my side,
fireflies twinkle like stars
With you by my side,
sweet water fills every well
With you by my side,
I feel a better human being
This gift has been granted to me
I am love's shadow
And you are love's body
Body and shadow, we are lost
in one another
To hear you breathing
Till I breathe my last
Till I breathe my last.
I now feel complete
Soft as velvet
Soft as velvet
Your love is as soft as velvet
Soft as velvet
Your love is as soft as velvet
Bhatt, why do I sense that
you are staring at me?
Untie your blindfold. Before we go
to Sambhar, look at Prithvi and me.
What do you mean, Bhatt?
Yes, Uncle.
We are not fated to meet again.
We must all die one day.
But how can I abandon Duty?
I have never untied my blindfold,
even in secret. How can untie it now?
Will I die of old age
or as a martyr?
A martyr.
To die by the sword on a battlefield
is salvation for a warrior.
What boon shalI I ask Goddess
Shakambhari to grant you?
The first to die for my motherland
and Prithvi,
should be my right.
In place of this statue,
I want Prithviraj alive.
Who will bring him to me?
Your Highness,
I await your command.
Allow us to break all codes of war.
If a warrior like Prithviraj can break
with tradition and deceive us,
then you have the right to break
the codes of war.
- So why hesitate?
- Pardon me, my lord.
I hesitate because the Delhi King
is your son-in-law now.
In Kurukshetra, did a father
not slay his sons? A friend
not slay a friend? A brother not slay
his brother?
Where there is victory,
therein lies Duty.
GAUDPUR FORWhat is it, Kaimas?
A messenger from Gaudpur
has come.
Jaichand's army have attacked
Gaudpur Fort.
How dare he!
Command us, Uncle.
Chamund, we must wait for the King's
return from Sambhar.
War waits for no one.
Prithvi has taken his bride
to our ancestral temple.
They will not return soon.
Prime Minister, we can retake
Gaudpur Fort,
but he will not stop there.
He will attack Delhi.
A hundred of us went to Kannauj,
so why not Gaudpur?
Because the King is not with us.
You insult Prithvi's warriors, Kaimas.
Prithvi's warriors are no less
than Prithviraj himself.
Never mind the Gaudpur Fort,
if anyone dares take a twig
from Gaudpur,
Prithvi's warriors will bring it back.
We will not shut the Delhi gates
for fear of Jaichand.
We shall defeat him at the border.
I cannot allow this, Uncle.
Who is asking for your permission,
Uncle Kanha is not a man to stay
blindfolded just to save his skin.
It's either death or this blindfold.
I shall now confront the hordes
of Kannauj.
Wait, Uncle!
Kaimaas, send a message to death,
tell him Chamund is on his way.
You cannot go alone, Chamund.
I vowed to give you company
in death. Not in life.
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
Hail Bhawani!
Hail Amba!
Hail Bhawani!
Hail Amba!
GAUDPUR FORPraise to Bhawani!
Praise to Amba!
Praise to Bhawani!
Hail Amba!
Praise to Bhawani!
Praise to Amba!
Praise to Bhawani!
Praise to Bhawani!
Praise to Bhawani!
Praise to Amba!
Praise to Bhawani!
Praise to Amba!
Compose yourself, Your Highness.
Causing the death of sixty-four
warriors, who does she mourn here?
Uncle. Hada.
Forgive me.
Your Highness.
Delhi is in your charge.
I leave for Kannauj.
Pardon me, my lord.
As Uncle lay dying, he asked me
to give you this message.
Tell Prithvi to apply my ashes
to his brow.
And to forgive Jaichand.
Tell him not to mourn the death
of his warriors,
but to celebrate it.
Tell Chand he must never leave
Prithvi's side.
O brave warriors,
I bid you a final farewell. Ram!
Ram Ram.
Ram Ram.
Your Highness.
Warriors choose death,
death does not choose warriors.
So why mourn?
Do not tarnish the name
of our fathers, brothers
and uncles by mourning
their passing.
Time to celebrate.
Not to mourn.
Our warriors fought to defend Duty.
Now we fight for Duty.
Tie the saffron turban
on our heads.
Amazing, O Lord!
Mysterious are Your ways!
You turn mountains to dust
and dust to mountains.
The King of Kannauj awaits you.
King of Men, King of the Cavalry,
King of the Royals.
Master of many arts, great thinker
and learned lord.
O King of Kannauj! May your reign
be everlasting.
How are you, merchant of Delhi?
Pardon me, Your Highness.
But I'm a merchant of all Hindustan.
Borders are for sultans and kings,
not for merchants.
Merchants follow the clinking
of gold coins.
Tell me.
Why has the King of Kannauj
summoned me?
No king has struck
a deal with you before.
Time to change that.
A deal, Your Highness?
You have a house in Ghazni.
Then go to Ghazni.
Strike a deal with the Sultan.
A deal? With Sultan Mohammad Ghori?
Just name your price.
My lord, you must attend the court,
or I shall be blamed.
That did not worry you before
the Swayamvar.
Leelavati, help my lady to get ready.
Get ready, Your Highness?
From today you shall attend
the royal court with me.
What are you saying, my lord?
Do you know what people say?
'This girl has caused the death
of sixty-four warriors.'
My sixty-four warriors, courtiers,
and thousands of soldiers
did not sacrifice their lives
for women to live in submission.
They fought for women's honour.
They were martyred opposing old ideas
perpetuating the slavery of women.
Pardon me, my lord. I cannot sit
in attendance with you.
Attending the court is not the point,
the point is equality.
Our rights are the same.
Our duties are the same.
Our status is the same.
The Queen will hold court from today.
Kindly address your requests
or pleas to her.
If there are no pleas,
adjourn the court.
If there are no pleas or complaints,
the court shall be adjourned.
I have a complaint, my lord.
I have a complaint.
Are you able to hear the truth,
O King?
A man who cannot hear the truth,
or protect men who speak it,
has no right to be called a king.
Then hear me, O King.
Everyone here believes
it is better that the Queen stays
in her chambers.
What business do girls have in court?
If you want to share the throne,
then share it with Jaichand.
He wanted only half the kingdom.
Pardon me, my lord.
Are women not consulted
within the family?
Yes. Then consult her in the privacy
of your palace. Why here?
Pardon me, Your Highness.
The Elder is right.
If this is what our people believe,
then we must remove all
the statues in our temples.
Because I hear
where women are not respected,
the gods do not reside there.
So, you're saying a woman
will now rule over Delhi?
Forgive me, my lord.
But I had heard the throne should be
governed by Duty.
That administration is run by Duty,
not by a man or woman.
Even the gods do not accept offerings
without a woman's presence.
Am I nothing more than
a woman?
Is a woman only for the pleasure
of men?
Does she exist only to give birth
to your children?
Look at history and you will see
women have always followed Duty,
while men have violated it.
Are there any women here?
Do women not suffer?
Or do they not have the right
to make a complaint or plea?
Pray, hear me.
To protect her rights, a daughter
disobeyed her own father.
To protect her self-respect that same
daughter shall disobey her husband.
Even if the King desires it,
I will not sit on the Delhi throne.
Wait, my lady.
It is not a question of disobeying me.
It is Duty you disobey.
His Highness is right.
We have raised our swords
to sever heads till now.
Today I raise my sword to uphold
the honour of women.
Those who agree that women
have the right to sit on the throne,
raise their swords!
- Praise to Goddess Bhavani!
- Praise to Goddess Amba!
- Praise to Goddess Bhavani!
- Praise to Goddess Amba!
You heard the verdict of
my courtiers and subjects.
All women can make a plea
before the Queen from today.
I will not make the final decision,
the Queen shall.
If anyone objects, speak now.
Respect Duty and Justice.
- Praise to Bhavani!
- Praise to Amba!
Praise to Amba!
Praise to Amba!
Praise to Amba!
May the Sultan show me benevolence.
If you permit, may this humble servant
make a request?
I bring a message of friendship
from Jaichand, the Kannauj King.
The King asks if you capture
Prithviraj alive,
you must hand him over to Jaichand.
Just name your price. Forget your
enmity with him for now.
Why does Jaichand not capture him
and kinship prevents him, Sultan.
That is why Jaichand wants to shoot
two targets with one arrow.
Show mercy and humiliate.
It is the same treatment
that he inflicted on you.
So, I fight for a reward now?
Forgive me, Your Highness.
I know the Sultan would much prefer
to fight Prithviraj,
but Jaichand is not paying you
to fight.
He will reward you for handing him
Prithviraj alive.
How did Jaichand have this noble idea?
The enemy of an enemy is a friend,
We all know of your old enmity
against Prithviraj.
Think it over.
You have an army,
soldiers and dreams.
And now you will have a friend
in Hindustan.
Let me think it over.
Your humble servant awaits
your decision.
Why do Hindustanis not walk together
in unison?
They do, my lord.
But only when carrying another
Hindustani's casket on their shoulders.
I bring salaams from the Sultan,
King of Delhi.
What is his message?
The King once spared the Sultan's life.
Now the Sultan wishes
to spare yours.
If the King wants to live, he must
give Delhi to the Sultan
and accept his sovereignty.
The King shall continue to rule,
but as the Sultan's slave.
The Sultan summons the King
to his court.
I will not give a grain of my motherland's
soil in return for my life.
But I will give the Sultan enough soil
to mark his brow with.
The future shall be decided
on the same battlefield.
Qutub-ud-din Aibak!
Tell the Sultan I can smell his
impure plans in his message.
The future shall be decided
on the same battlefield.
Victory to you!
Glory to Mahadev!
Glory to Mahadev!
Glory to Mahadev!
Glory to Mahadev!
- Tatar.
- Sultan?
How many did the infidels lose
last week?
Eight thousand, Sultan.
- And we?
- 16,330.
But victory still eludes us.
I did not imagine the battle
would carry on for so long, Sultan.
If we do not win soon, we will
run out of supplies and soldiers.
I cannot understand how to defeat
the Hindustanis, Sultan.
They are emotional about their country
and consider it their mother.
The Motherland!
That is their greatest strength.
We do not need to be emotional.
Emotions do not win kingdoms,
swords do.
No mistakes this time.
If we lose, Prithviraj will not repeat
his blunder by sparing me.
Pardon me, Your Highness.
Why do you believe you will lose?
Because we have no valid reason
for our aggression.
We think of Hindustan as a bit of land,
to them it is their motherland.
What we consider the spoils of war,
to them is their honour.
What we consider a stone,
to them is God.
So, we must win this war,
even if we resort to devious methods.
My lady.
We have lost the battle.
The King has been taken prisoner.
There's no time.
Ghori's army is on its way to Delhi.
You must escape.
- Prime Minister.
- Your Highness.
With fire as my witness, I took my vows
and married His Highness.
I shall renew my vows today.
Go, prepare the holy fire.
My lady.
I have brought you
your wedding garments.
The royal wives are ready to
sacrifice themselves.
Go! Bring me the attire worn
by warriors in battle.
And listen.
Tell the wives of all the courtiers,
we are wives of warriors.
We are wedded to their courage
and their swords.
Fire must fill our eyes, not tears.
We shall offer our souls
to our warriors, not our weeping.
Now we shall celebrate
the sacrifices of our brave.
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
The falling rain of your love
O beloved
Has strengthened my resolve
On this path
Every speck of me
So ready now
With the bow of an ascetic slung
across my shoulder, I stand tall
I have become a warrior
Mixing the colour of fire
in my every breath
Abandoning wealth,
body and heart
I have become a warrior
My mind is like burning embers
The courtyard is my battlefield
The Lord of Death too will have
to look away
So enraged am I
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
The wise have said
The world is an illusion
A lying enemy is this body
of ours
If your honour is whole
Then you will live
The sun must shine
for a shadow to fall
Storms and hurricanes
may break out
But I shall cross the seas
Dancing to the echo of conches
So dazed am I
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
I have become a warrior
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
Praise to the Lord!
I have become a warrior
Praise to the Lord!
My beloved daughter has jumped
into the Fire of Sacrifice.
Your Yagya has borne fruit.
My child has sacrificed herself
because of your need
for vengeance.
Who will you replace Prithviraj's
statue with? And kill?
Delhi will never be yours.
Nor will Ajmer.
Ghori has refused to give us Prithviraj.
What did Ghori say?
Ghori asked me to tell you:
'I can take the jewels and pearls
from the infidels at any time,
'but a diamond like Prithviraj will
never come into my grasp again.
'The deal is off.'
You are a merchant.
See how you can destroy yourself
with one deal.
Ghori understood the true value
of Prithviraj.
But I did not.
See what happens to you
when you disobey the Sultan.
Now bow before the Sultan!
The Sultan shows mercy,
even to his enemies.
Sultan's lackey!
My head only bows before ascetics
and elders.
Or the brave. It does not bow before
any sultan.
Impudent man!
Lower your eyes when you
address the Sultan.
My eyes speak of humility and truth.
It is the Sultan who must lower his
treacherous and dishonest eyes.
If you have the courage, look me
in the eye when you speak.
Tell your subjects you are not
a warrior, but a murderer.
You murdered my soldiers
while they slept.
This rascal does not merit
your forgiveness.
Put him to death!
Sentence him to death!
Sentence him to death!
Sentence him to death!
Sentence him to death!
All enemies who dare to look me
in the eye have their eyes put out.
Your head will bow, Prithviraj.
This head will bow.
- Tatar!
- Sultan?
'His dreams will be destroyed and those
eyes that covet Hindustan.'
Aren't these his words?
Yes. Sultan.
Put out his eyes.
Keep him alive
until he begs for death.
Kill the infidel.
Shame on him!
Kill him!
How are you, slave of Prithviraj?
Remember what you said to me
when I was in your prison?
I remember every word, Sultan.
I said:
'There is no glory for Prithviraj
'if he slays you after he has
'defeated you in battle.
'Prithviraj's victory lies
'in beheading you despite losing
the battle.'
His glory has been crushed.
It is still night, Sultan.
Fireflies gloat, thinking they have
imprisoned the sun.
But the sun has yet to rise
in the land of fireflies.
Prithviraj is the mighty sun.
All others are fireflies.
My King has not yet shown
his great bravery.
He has just been cheated.
Prove it.
Prove what you claim.
If the Sultan wishes to see
my King's bravery,
the Sultan's warriors must
challenge him to fight.
The only condition:
Before every attack your warriors
must make a sound.
And at that time, I, the poet
Chand Vardai,
must be allowed to sing his praises.
Ask your master.
If he agrees, I will too.
- Sultan.
- Tatar!
Rather than Prithviraj's eulogy,
Chand shall recite an elegy.
Sultan, my king will strike
when he hears a sound.
And all of Ghazni
will witness the meaning
of true bravery.
Your Highness.
Let the Sultan know that
I am still alive.
Your Highness, Tatar Khan is here.
Poet Chand! Should I consider
the challenge over?
Shame on your Sultan for sending
voiceless lions to their death.
The challenge is not over.
I have taken lives.
But I have not given mine.
Will your King be able to fight?
Till my last breath, Tatar.
I will fight till my last breath.
Tomorrow's sunset
will be my last. And the last sunset
of your warriors.
Good night.
The honour for which Bhishma
accepted a death wish
The honour for which Dadhichi
gave his bones to Indra
The honour for which Duryodhan
waged war
The honour for which Lord Ram
was exiled in a forest
There is no one
There is no one immortal on this earth.
Death swallows them all
This honour is a unique and
priceless gem, preserve it
Prithviraj salaams the people
of Ghazni!
Salaam to the King of Delhi!
We salute your bravery!
Salaam, King of Delhi.
We salute your courage.
We salute you!
Salaam, King of Delhi.
We salute your courage.
We salute you!
We salute you!
We salute you!
Do you hear them?
Ghazni respects the brave.
That is why the Sultan has accepted
your challenge.
The Sultan has agreed
to your condition.
Prithviraj, you have seven arrows
to aim at seven horsemen.
The Sultan has given you not one,
but seven chances.
If you succeed in killing a single
you shall be freed along
with your soldiers.
Prithviraj, are you ready?
Your challenge is unworthy.
Seven arrows,
seven soldiers, seven chances.
And Prithviraj needs to kill one soldier
to save his life.
A greater challenge would be -
one arrow and one chance.
And one Prithviraj.
And one Sultan.
If you dare, then take my life.
Or give me yours.
Sultan! One arrow.
And one life.
I accept your challenge.
Long live the Great King!
Long live the King of Kings!
Long live the King of Kings!
Long live the King of Kings!
Long live the King of Kings!
Well done, Prithviraj.
I salute your courage.
But this is your one and last chance.
I am ready.
Shoot, Prithviraj!
'With one arrow, Chauhan,
Ram destroyed Ravan.
'With one arrow, Chauhan,
Shiv slayed Tripurasur.
'With one arrow, Chauhan,
'Arjun slaughtered Karn.
'With one arrow, Chauhan,
'Meghnad was slain by Lakshman.'
Shoot, Prithviraj.
'One aim.
'One life.
'Do not miss, Chauhan!'
My lord!
I asked for a warrior's death.
Why ask for it, too, Chand?
I have lived by your side
since I was born.
We have played together.
In happiness and in sorrow,
I have been by your side.
As you breathe your last,
how can I leave you alone?
There was only one Bhishma.
One Bhim,
One Arjun,
and only one Prithvi.
Chand. Chand.
Come, Prithvi. We will challenge
even Indra, the King of Gods.
Listen to what Uncle says, my lord.
You are free.
Long live Prithviraj!
Long live Prithviraj!
Long live Prithviraj!
Long live Prithviraj!
Long live Prithviraj!
Long live Prithviraj!
Long live Prithviraj!
Long live Prithviraj!
Long live Prithviraj!
With the martyrdom of India's
mighty son Prithviraj,
the Hindu reign over Northern India
came to an end.
With the loss of the great
Hindu Emperor,
the fire to awaken the spirit
of national self-respect began
and ended with the Independence
of India in 1947.
India fought a long battle
of 755 years
against foreign attackers
and invaders.
And finally, Delhi once again belonged
to Mother India.