Original subtitles

YASH RAJ FILMS PRESENTS

EMPEROR PRITHVIRAJ

EMPEROR PRITHVIRAJ

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!

GHAZNI, AFGHANISTAN, 1192 CE

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

Prithviraj!

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?

Uncle!

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.

Three.

Two.

Four fingers away, Your Highness.

Sultan!

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.

Sanyogita.

KANNAUJ, FEW YEARS AGO

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, Princess.

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?

Bhairavi!

PRITHVIRAJ

We shall see how the Ajmer King defends himself against this arrow.

AJMER

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.

Colour?

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.'

Chand.

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.

Saffron.

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.

Why?

Mir Hussain has run off with the Sultan's concubine.

Her name?

Chitrarekha.

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 crimes?

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!

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 Chitrarekha.

But you must hand over Mir Hussain to the Sultan.

Your safety depends on this.

Aibak.

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

Uncle!

- 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!

Uncle!

Uncle!

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!

TARAIN BATTLEFIELD

Command us, Prithvi.

Patience, Uncle.

Tatar!

The infidel has come to leap into the jaws of death.

He erred by making his cavalry take position at the front.

Ready!

Aim!

Attack!

Chamund! Hada!

Uncle!

Jai Har Har!!

Uncle!

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?

Sultan.

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.

Uncle!

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.

Uncle!

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!

Uncle.

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.

Death!

Courtiers, your judgement?

Death!

Sultan!

Tell me what punishment befits you.

Death!

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?

Prithviraj!

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.

Stop!

Next time show bravery, Sultan, not cowardice.

Kaimaas!

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.

Bhatt!

Long live!

KANNAUJ

King of Kannauj!

Ask anything you desire and make a sacrifice to the Goddess.

What do you still want, father?

Delhi!

Delhi!

Pardon me, Your Majesty.

An envoy from Delhi has come with an invitation.

Prithviraj shall be crowned on the throne of Delhi.

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.

Quiet!

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.'

DELHI

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!

Bhatt!

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.

Impossible!

Uncle...

Quiet, Chand!

Chamund!

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?

No.

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!

Uncle!

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, Baluk.

- 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 Prithviraj?

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.

Princess!

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.

Uncle?

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.

Prithvi!

War!

Chand?

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.

Princess!

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.

Princess!

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.

Princess!

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, Uncle.

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.

SOMEWHERE OUTSIDE KANNAUJ

My lord, stay still.

Will you turn me into a statue too?

Let me look at you - have my heart's fill.

Why?

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?

No.

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 respectfully.

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?

Uncle.

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.

Bhatt!

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 FORT

What 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, Kaimaas?

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.

Uncle!

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 FORT

Praise to Bhawani!

Praise to Amba!

Praise to Bhawani!

Hail Amba!

Praise to Bhawani!

Praise to Amba!

Praise to Bhawani!

Chamund!

Praise to Bhawani!

Praise to Bhawani!

Praise to Amba!

Praise to Bhawani!

Praise to Amba!

PANKAJ

KANHA

Compose yourself, Your Highness.

Causing the death of sixty-four warriors, who does she mourn here?

Uncle. Hada.

Forgive me.

Kaimaas.

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.

Chamund...Chamund.

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.

Yes.

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!

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?

Speak!

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 himself?

Misfortune,

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, Sultan.

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.

Tatar!

Why do Hindustanis not walk together in unison?

They do, my lord.

But only when carrying another Hindustani's casket on their shoulders.

Delhi!

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!

Attack!

- 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.

Why?

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.'

Dharmaayan.

You are a merchant.

See how you can destroy yourself with one deal.

Ghori understood the true value of Prithviraj.

But I did not.

GHAZNI, AFGHANISTAN

Prithviraj!

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.

Tatar!

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.

Sultan!

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!

Prithviraj!

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.

Meaning?

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.

Chand.

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?

Tatar.

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!

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!

Prithviraj!

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 horseman,

you shall be freed along with your soldiers.

Prithviraj, are you ready?

Sultan!

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.

Prithviraj!

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.

Sultan!

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!

Chand.

Stop!

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. Come.

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.