Original subtitles

Have you ever had the feeling

that you knew what someone was going to say

just before he said it?

Or have you ever walked into a strange room

and had the sensation that you'd been there before?

Well, if you have, you've taken a small step beyond.

Now, watch a giant step.

This is the Bombay-Calcutta mail

moving through the hot vastness of India.

Still remote, mystical, mysterious, even in the jet age.

India's teeming millions look upon life and death

in ways that are difficult for us to truly understand.

Like the young American couple in the next compartment.

You know where I'd like to be?

Where? Home.

In my own swimming pool with a cold beer in my hand.

Get the water for the salt tablet, dear.

It is kind of ugly, at that.

You'd better have two.

No visa, no passports, no cholera shots, no customs.

Are you really that sorry we came?

Well, it does seem kind of silly.

You know, we plan on this trip for 700 years,

and do we go to someplace like Paris, London,

or someplace sensible?

No, no. My girl's got to see the Taj Mahal.

Well, wasn't it beautiful?

Sure, it's beautiful.

I knew it was beautiful before we left...

Get out of here.

This is our compartment. Get out of here!

Len, the poor man must be lost.

I told you to get out!

What are you getting so excited about?

Go on, get out of here!

Len, you're frightening him. He doesn't understand you.

Get out!

Len, stop it!

Is there some trouble?

Get him out of here.

Len! Get him out!

I must plead for your indulgence.

He is an ignorant villager, his first time on a train.

He became confused.

So many of our people have never traveled on trains before.

It is difficult for them to understand

about the different classes.

Well, that's a fine way to act,

getting all excited over nothing, and in this heat.

Don't let that conductor fool you.

That old man wasn't confused.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

What?

Well, didn't you see it?

See what?

His face.

You ever see such a murderous expression in your life?

Murderous? That sweet old man?

Sweet old man?!

Why if we'd been asleep, that sweet old man

would have cut our throats for the baggage.

You're some judge of character, you are.

I think you'd better take a couple of nerve pills, too.

Don't act like I'm goofy.

I saw the look on his face.

I saw the look on your face.

Betty, will you knock it off?

I'm sorry.

You know, maybe it is the heat.

You'd better give me those pills.

What are we supposed to use for water?

What happened?

Oh, Len.

I did that?

I'll ring for the porter.

He'll get us some more water.

No, we've been ringing for that porter ever since Bombay.

I'll get it.

Len?

Hey, are you all right?

Yes.

Yes, I'm all right.

Sir.

Sir!

It is wiser for first class passengers

to remain in their own compartment, sir.

I was looking for the porter.

The porter is greatly occupied.

May I be of assistance?

Yes. We need another bottle of water.

I will tell the porter.

He will bring it to your compartment

at his earliest opportunity.

Wait.

Who is that old man in there?

Which old man, sir?

That old man right there.

The one who tried to break into our compartment.

Do you know anything about him?

I talked to him after the misunderstanding.

I assure you, he was only confused.

Do you know who he is?

No, sir.

You're sure?

Sir, we are a nation of hundreds of millions,

and most old men look quite the same.

Okay.

What are you staring at?

My, you're beginning to scare me.

Stop staring at him like that.

What's gotten into you?

Look at him. Look at him!

Honey, will you stop this?

If he tries anything, I'll kill him!

Leonard.

Len!

Len!

Did you see a man come by here?

I'm looking for my hus...

Len?

Len.

Oh, darling. Oh, God.

Oh...

Isn't there someone here who speaks English?

Is there anyone who can help him?

He needs a doctor.

Well, I am helping him, ma'am.

I'm not exactly a doctor.

I'm afraid you'll have to settle for a medical missionary.

I sent word to have my Jeep brought over.

We'll take him to the mission. There's nothing serious.

It's heat prostration.

Are you sure?

Oh, I think so.

Yes, his pulse is better already.

Are you the gentleman's lady?

Yes.

I am Constable Ghisi.

The people say he ran through the streets like one demented,

until he collapsed from the heat.

And not even to wear a hat at such an hour.

What help can I be, Mr. Graham?

Oh, it's quite all right.

Madam, we have no tourist attractions in our village.

Why, then, are you here?

What?

As the constable, madam,

there is certain information I must have.

My husband left the train unexpectedly.

But why?

I don't know why.

You're going to be all right, dear.

I've got to find him. I've got to find him!

Find who, madam?

Oh, it's nothing. It's the heat.

It-It's made him delirious or something.

Find who?

I don't know who.

There was an old man on the train.

My husband took a dislike to him.

But why?

Well, he thought he was trying to steal something.

And how does this concern our village?

Well, the old man got off here.

My husband followed him.

What did the old man look like?

Well, now, what difference does it make?

Madam, if we have a thief in our village...

I didn't say he was a thief.

But you said your husband...

My husband isn't feeling well.

What did the old man look like, madam?

He was an old man, that's all.

He was carrying a rooster. He had a terrible scar.

Like so? Yes.

With such a scar, that could only be Kumar.

And Kumar, madam, is no thief.

May I see your passport, please?

I left it on the train with everything else.

A certain report must be filled.

Oh... Wait a minute.

My husband kept his in his jacket.

Yes, there it is.

Thank you, madam.

I will return it to you at the mission when I finish my report.

Old Kumar. This is most strange.

I told you, my husband was ill and not responsible.

Yes, so you did, madam.

Now look a bit over towards your wife.

Ooh, too much.

Huh.

You've got the arteries of a boy of 20.

Yeah, and the brains of a three-year-old.

Boy, I feel like a jackass.

What was his name, anyway?

Come on, Len, now, forget it.

His name's Kumar.

I must have scared him half to death.

No.

Kumar doesn't scare so easy.

Well, I wish I knew

what was the matter with me anyway.

My wife will tell you.

I don't think there's a single person

that I really dislike.

And here we are, thousands of miles from home,

and I see an old man with a rooster

just standing there in the doorway to our compartment...

but you'd think I'd seen Adolf Hitler or something.

Oh, it was an awful feeling.

There was fear, and there was hate,

and there was...

I had the craziest feeling that if I didn't kill him,

he was going to kill me. Len!

Mr. Barrett, you're just going to have to try to relax.

I won't even tell you how high your blood pressure is.

Yeah, you see?

What is this?

How can a thing like this happen anyway?

Who knows?

Perhaps it's the reverse of love at first sight.

People accept that readily enough.

It gives me the willies.

Well... you're going to live.

That's for sure.

Now, this part of India

is awfully hot this time of the year.

Or maybe you picked up one of our infamous bugs,

I don't know.

Do I intrude?

Oh, no. Come in.

Your passport, Mr. Barrett.

Oh, this is, uh, Constable Ghisi.

He's the one who found you and sent for me.

Oh, thank you very much.

Your health has improved, I am happy to observe.

Yes, I seem to be feeling a little better now.

Physically, anyway.

Then... embarking on a train tonight

will prove no hardship?

Tonight?

That's pretty quick.

You really should rest for a few days.

Besides, the only train tonight's the Calcutta Express.

It doesn't even stop here.

Tonight it will stop here...

In honor of Mr. and Mrs. Barrett of Westport, Connecticut,

12 minutes after the hour of 10:00.

It's a very fine train.

Well, yes, but if Mr. Graham thinks

that he should rest for a few days...

The arrangements have been made, madam.

Uh, look, if it's all the same to you,

I'd just as soon follow Mr. Graham's advice.

I do seem pretty tired.

12 minutes after the hour of 10:00, Mr. Barrett.

Boy, your Constable what's his name

certainly is no ambassador of goodwill.

No.

I don't know what's the matter.

I do... he's a self-important little dictator.

No, no, no, no, he's not like that at all, really.

Well, at least you'll get a couple of hours of bed rest.

That is, if you don't mind the accommodations.

Here's our combination schoolroom, storeroom

and, uh, guest room.

Quite a collection of odds and ends, isn't it?

This is the way some of the villagers say thank you.

Of course, no thank-yous are ever necessary.

Still, they're a proud people,

and I suppose I'll go on collecting it

until it crowds me into the street.

I wonder what happened to her.

It was slashed with a knife

when the clay was still wet.

How do you know?

It does look like knife marks.

I never thought of that.

She's charming.

You know, that's really very, very good,

what's left of it.

What does that word down there mean?

Oh. Pyari.

"Beloved."

Yes.

Well, I think you'd better lie down now, Mr. Barrett.

Uh, your wife will bring you dinner.

'Course I should warn you that

our food here is what is charitably called

"simple but nourishing."

Len?

Len!

Y... Are you feeling w-well?

I'm fine.

Boy, the next time I ask you to take a salt tablet,

will you please listen to me?

I'm sorry, honey.

I'm all right now.

I'm all right.

Okay.

♪ ♪

Len.

Kumar!

Kumar! Kumar!

Kumar!

Len?

Len... Oh! Oh... Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh.

Oh...

Oh, there's no time for this, Mrs. Barrett.

Help me with him, quickly.

Mr. Graham is doing all that is possible.

Why?

Why? Why? Why?

Why... why?

Kumar's wife asked a similar question:

"How can the same thing happen twice in one lifetime?"

Twice?

Pyari.

She was once beautiful as well as beloved.

Beloved by two men, unfortunately.

Kumar and Ranjib.

Ranjib?

A very gifted young artist in our village

but with a wildness in him.

The scar... across Kumar's throat

was put there with the same knife

that sliced this clay while it was still soft.

Leonard said that had been done with a knife.

Ranjib, in a fit of passion, attacked Kumar.

Kumar slashed back with his own knife.

The blade cut across Ranjib's eyes.

A blind artist is a very pathetic creature.

On Kumar's wedding night,

Ranjib went to the house,

broke in and attacked the man

he had come so passionately to hate.

In the darkness,

the blindness was no handicap

but Kumar had a gun.

What's that got to do with us?

Madam asked me why.

Perhaps I'm telling her why.

I feel as responsible

for the tragedy as anyone else.

Why?

Madam,

have you not questioned the apparent senselessness

of what has happened today?

When I first saw your husband's passport,

I should have stayed with him until he left our village.

The day Kumar killed Ranjib is very clear in my mind.

It was my first homicide.

July 17, 1925.

Go to him, Mrs. Barrett... now.

It's over.

Is it, Mr. Graham?

Look at the date of birth on Mr. Barrett's passport

and tell me if you think it is ever over.

July 17, 1925.

Leonard Barrett was born

on the same day Kumar killed Ranjib.

The last breath of one human being

becomes the first breath of another.

There are hundreds of millions of people that believe that.

And if, as in this particular instance,

the seeds of vengeance and hate survived,

then it follows that all that is good in the human spirit

also survives.

Now, for the millions who reject this concept,

well, there are words like, um,

fate, coincidence, destiny...

All very useful words

when trying to explain the world of the unknown.