MUKUNDGARH POLICE STATION
How do you know Krishna?
- I don't know any Krishna. - Really?
- But you spoke to her a helluva lot. - Meaning?
We have Krishna's phone records.
We know who she spoke to, when, and for how long.
She called you all the time.
And always late at night.
"I don't know any Krishna."
The SIM card was in my name, but my sister used it.
Where is she now?
She's been missing for six months.
I filed a Missing Person report.
I wore my shoes out with my visits to the police station.
No one gave a damn.
Sister's name?
- Fatima Lohar. - Fatima Lohar?
She hasn't called me even once.
She took all my mother's jewelry.
Did she take anything else?
- Some money. - How much?
Ten thousand rupees. It was her own money.
So, she suddenly vanished one day?
She ran away from home.
She was involved with someone.
What's his name?
I don't know.
I never met him.
Sir, he's telling the truth. He did file a Missing Person report.
She was not a minor. She chose to run away, so we didn't follow it up.
Sounds just like Krishna's story.
Check Krishna's call records again.
See who else she called.
Ask Javed for his sister's details.
Check her phone records over the last 12 months.
OK?
Sir, we should give Javed protection.
Mahipal's thugs could attack him again.
Speak to the station head. Put two constables on the job.
OK, sir.
I'll be off now. You both finish up here, OK?
- Yes, sir. - Yes.
Greetings, brother!
Bless you.
Where are you going this time?
I'm filling the van up. I'm driving to Balawas tomorrow.
When will you be back? Monday?
Brother, may I say something? Please don't be offended.
Your community service is great, but…
But?
Tell me,
what do you get out of it?
You don't earn anything.
On the contrary, you spend your own money on others.
Not everything in life is about profit and loss.
OK. You don't care about losing money.
But what about your wife and Kapish?
You only get two days off from college.
And you spend that time educating villagers.
What about family time?
If my wife had a problem with it, she would tell me herself.
That's precisely it!
Why doesn't she say anything?
If a husband spends every weekend away from home,
shouldn't his wife get upset?
What are you implying?
Anand, I'm not implying anything.
I'm just repeating what other people are saying.
Uncle Roop had come to see Father.
His son works in the same hotel as your wife.
He said there was something going on between her and a junior.
What rubbish!
Nonsense!
Give me the money for Father.
I feel bad telling you this,
but that's what Father said.
Tell him not to believe everything he hears.
- Good night, Bhaati. - Night.
- Papa, have some. - No tea for me.
- Put it over there. - Have some nuts.
- Listen. - No, I'll have these.
Look, who's here!
- Hello, Mummy. Hello, Daddy. - God bless.
- Hello, Mummy. Hello, Daddy. - God bless you.
You didn't say you were coming.
You have such wonderful news,
how could we stay away?
You're going to be a father.
Congratulations to you both!
Give me a minute.
He's embarrassed.
- They've made us so happy. - Absolutely.
- Let me know as soon as it's done. - Jai.
Yeah?
Anand's father knows about us.
What!
He made a strange remark to me.
How did he find out?
Kuldeep's father is friends with my in-laws.
- Maybe he said something. - Kuldeep? From the front desk?
- Even Surya said something odd. - What?
He asked jokingly if I was in love with a married woman.
We spend all our free time together.
What did you think? No one would find out?
I didn't think my in-laws would hear about us.
You must tell Anand that we're in love.
We're not doing anything wrong. How long must we meet in secret?
- And my son Kapish? - What about you?
I can't be so selfish and think only about myself.
How can I tell Anand?
He's a good man, Jai. He's never done anything wrong.
What wrong have I done?
They put a gun to my head.
Then they tied me up like this
and jumped over the wall and drove off in a car.
Which way did they go?
I couldn't see properly,
but from what I could make out, they turned right.
They must've taken the main road.
Show me footage from Friday the 8th between 5:15 to 5:25 a.m.
Stop. Rewind.
Transfer this footage onto a pen drive.
Sir, a pen drive?
Pen drive.
Bastard, you're asking a cop for a pen drive?
Shall I lock you up?
Saving this pen drive for your wedding?
Hello?
Greetings, Daddy.
Bless you, son.
I'm at the sweet shop buying mithai to celebrate the good news.
How many boxes will you need at the station?
We don't need to treat my colleagues.
How is that possible? You must celebrate with your colleagues.
I'll drop the boxes off on my way.
Daddy, I'm not at the station. I'm very busy.
Call you later. OK?
Send these photos to all nearby police stations, hospitals, and morgues.
- Sir. - Go on.
You do realize you've made a serious allegation against Altaf?
Think it over carefully.
In your statement, you say Altaf abducted you,
held you captive, and forced himself on you.
Is that true?
Sir, they're trying to coerce the girl.
Rajni, Altaf may go down for years because of you.
Stop it.
Don't try to make her change her statement.
She's told you about the ordeal she had to endure.
Now, take action against that lowlife.
OK, madam?
Hello, Mahesh.
Did my Aarti get her gift?
Yes.
She got it, and your Aarti adores it.
Did you know that penguins stay together for life
and produce many offspring?
We'll stick together like a pair of penguins.
Naughty!
Like the idea?
- Father-- - Stop.
God bless Shiv.
He's the only one who looks after me.
- The teacher is here! - The teacher is here!
When God created the universe,
there was not a single grain of sand on this earth.
Where you all now sit was once fertile land.
It was surrounded by lush green farms.
It used to be called "Jungle-land."
- What did they call it? - "Jungle-land!"
Then God said to Man,
"For every sin you commit,
a grain of sand will fall to earth."
Then Man thought,
"How can a tiny grain of sand hurt me?"
And so, he began to sin.
One by one, grains of sand fell to earth by the millions.
Now look around you.
God's lush green land has become a desert.
That is why we should never commit a sin.
God sees everything.
No stealing, no lying, no wrongdoing, no bad thoughts.
Understand?
Go on ahead. I'll join you.
Good day, teacher.
We'll cross the border again tomorrow.
Take this gold with you.
RAJASTHAN NATIONAL BANK
Fifty thousand.
Yes, Bhaati?
Got the clearance for Fatima's call records?
The Superintendent isn't in.
I'm waiting for him.
Who told you to wait?
Find him and get his signature right now.
Friends!
There are four things that will never make a man content.
A car, a mobile, a TV, and a wife!
The reason is simple and is a very important one.
It's the neighbor who always has the better model!
COMIC POETRY CONVENTION
A call from Jhunjhunu, sir.
From the IT Cell. Kassim.
Yes, Kassim?
Krishna's phone was used at various places in the last two months.
In Bhilwara. Four weeks ago.
- Bhilwara? - Yes.
Her phone seems to be on a tour of Rajasthan.
It's off now.
I need a list of the places where the phone was used. Now.
Listen.
- Yes? - Seen this girl?
- No, ma'am. - Sure?
Seen this girl?
No.
Seen her before?
No, I haven't. Just a minute.
No.
- Have you seen this girl? - No, I haven't.
Look carefully.
Never seen her.
- Hey, lady cop! - Shut up, lowlife! Do you need a whack?
- Fuck off! - Bye.
What are you reading?
A recipe for turnip cutlets.
Looks simple enough.
I'll try it tomorrow. Would you like that?
I like everything you make.
- What are you doing? The kids are at home. - They always are.
What's wrong?
We've already done it once this week.
Are we on a fast or something?
Just go to sleep.
Move.
You drink it.
Rum and coke.
I have to get back to work.
The world can manage without you for half an hour.
I'm on a new case.
A missing girl. The investigation has led us to another missing girl.
What's happened to them?
I'm trying to find out.
OK.
- Bye. - Bye.
MANDAWA POLICE STATION
- Namaste, Bhaati sir. - Namaste! Working overtime?
You're late, Mr. Kartik Sharma.
What can I do, baby? I was stuck in a terrible traffic jam.
Sorry.
Your baby missed you so much.
I've missed my baby more.
What about your parents? Did you talk to them about us?
I did.
But…
You already know my family is crazy.
They have outdated ideas.
Did they say no?
When I insisted,
my father came out with a long list of conditions.
The girl's family must pay for the wedding expenses.
They want to invite a thousand guests, and they want a dowry.
They had an offer for 2.5 million rupees for me.
But you know my family's situation.
I know, you silly girl.
Lata. No.
Don't cry, you know I can't bear to see you cry.
I can't live without you, Kartik.
Lata, listen to me.
I've never lied to you.
I'll leave my family, but I won't abandon you. Understand?
So, what shall we do?
Let's run away.
What about my family? Can we tell them?
We can't tell anyone.
Many of your neighbors know my family well.
They're bound to talk. There'll be no wedding then.
Take your time. There's no hurry.
I've ordered a special pizza for you.
Enjoy, ma'am.
Smile.
Smile!
Krishna and Fatima's call records.
Both girls were calling the same number every day.
Whose number?
The phone is registered in a woman's name. Kiran Berwa, 30 years old.
H. K. Mewat Nagar, Samod. Her phone's switched off right now.
The incoming and outgoing calls follow a similar pattern.
Long conversations, late at night.
Send me Kiran Berwa's address.
I doubt we'll find her.
You think she's another runaway like the others?
I spoke to the families of both Krishna and Fatima.
The girls didn't know each other. They weren't communicating at all.
The only explanation is that someone was using their phone.
Possibly.
Do you see a pattern?
We may find the same pattern in Kiran's phone records.
Possibly.
Can you check her call records?
I'll need full clearance.
I'll have to check all the numbers common to both devices.
The clearance will take a few hours.
- Keep working. - I can't, without permission.
It's not allowed, Bhaati sir.
Two girls are missing.
Maybe even a third.
Maybe other girls are missing. Is that allowed?
Their lives could be in great danger. Is that allowed?
The minute I get the clearance, I'll fax it.
Mind your back, Kassim.
I worked with her last year. She wields a heavy whip.
REGIONAL TRANSPORT OFFICE, JHUNJHUNU
The blue car left the petrol station and headed towards Jaipur Road.
The flyover camera captured it.
Go forward to the toll booth.
It didn't drive through there.
So, the car exited between the flyover and the tollbooth?
Possibly.
Great.
If you can find out where the blue car came from, that'd be great!
- I'll try. - I'm off. Thanks, my friend.
Sir, Bhaati is here. Shall I let her in?
Yes. Send her in.
Come in.
Welcome, Anjali. Have a seat.
Sir.
The IT department needs clearance regarding the Missing Persons case.
I need your signature, sir.
Why not sit down, Miss Anjali?
Learn to respect your senior officers' orders.
Some tea?
No, sir. Thank you.
I'll order special tea for you.
I must get to Samod urgently.
So, you won't have any tea?
I need to follow a lead in the Missing Persons case.
Of course. Tea comes later.
Duty comes first.
Thank you, sir.
We haven't heard from Kiran in over a year.
When did you last talk to her?
She called a few hours after she ran away.
Remember the date?
26th January. Republic Day. That's why I remember.
She said, "Papa, the man I love has very old-fashioned parents.
They'll never agree to a marriage without a dowry."
And we could not afford the dowry they were demanding.
- Did you ever meet the boy? - No. Never.
Do you know anything about him?
Why are you asking us now about Kiran?
Two girls are missing. We're investigating their disappearance.
Is Kiran all right?
Can't say.
She's dug her own grave.
She could die for all I care. It's fine by me.
Thanks.
Listen, girl. Are you married?
Kassim called. He's found five other numbers of interest.
This phone called that one. Then the other numbers too.
All the phones are registered in women's names.
Any still active?
All switched off.
Tell you what. Get Sajjan on the case.
You three split up and look for the girls. Now.
Yes, sir.
Does Meenu Kumari live here?
- Not anymore. - Where does she live now?
I don't know.
She has ruined our name.
Someone told us the boy belongs to our caste.
That doesn't mean all is forgiven.
You must know something about the boy.
We never met him.
All we know is that he belongs to our caste.
If we had known she was having an affair,
we wouldn't have let her out of the house at all.
Why didn't you get her married?
We tried very hard.
But everyone asked for a big dowry.
Did she take anything with her?
Some clothes,
and whatever jewelry she could find.
Imagine stealing from your own family!
Do you have a photo of Geeta?
Are you married?
Mummy?
Mummy!
Hey, officer! Where do you think you're going?
I've talked to Sunita at the parlor
and booked you a facial.
All that muck is clogging up your pores.
I don't have time for a facial. I'm late. I have a team meeting.
Listen to me.
The boy is coming to meet you. Don't embarrass me.
What boy?
Ashish! I told you the priest found a boy for you. They're coming on Monday.
- Mummy, why? - I won't hear a word.
Now go to the parlor.
I'm on an important case. So many girls are missing.
The missing man in your life is an important case too.
Sit down and eat.
I bought you a new saree. I've put it in this bag for you.
If you can't come home to change, change at work.
The color really suits you.
Isn't it nice?
Don't protest this time.
I had to pay the priest 1000 rupees extra.
One thousand rupees?
Because of our name?
He's a good man.
The others would not even consider anyone from our caste.
A good man?
When you're from a backward caste,
the yardstick of "good" drops a few meters.
Here.
Let go.
Eight girls are missing.
This man preys on girls
from lower-income, backward-caste families.
What do you mean by "this" man?
What do you think I mean?
You really think only one man has created all this mayhem?
How many men do you see?
- Sir, what is she saying? - I know what I'm talking about.
All the girls have vanished under the same circumstances.
They elope with a man who convinces them with the same dowry story.
One man can't be the sole culprit.
One man or many, the question is, what's his motive?
- The girls had money and jewelry. - The money was insignificant.
40,000-50,000 is not very much.
- And the jewelry? - Inexpensive stuff.
Sounds like human trafficking.
Alert the anti-trafficking cell in Jaipur.
- Done, sir. - Why fall for this nonsense?
Maybe some Godman is responsible.
He could've made them vanish.
So did the girls vanish into thin air?
I'm not a Godman, I don't know.
It depends on how powerful he is.
It's not uncommon.
Girls disappear and reappear.
In what dreamland does that happen? The girls eloped with a man
who promised them a life of love and wedding vows.
Your Godman doesn't fit the bill.
Bhaati, prepare an updated file. I'll brief the Superintendent today. OK?
Yes, sir.
Parghi, any news on Altaf?
Sir, I'm just heading to the Jhunjhunu Traffic Office.
- My tea! - Go.
Sir. Sorry, sir, I need an hour off.
Now?
I know we have a lot of work,
but I have to take my mother to see the doctor.
What's wrong?
She's got diarrhea. A routine checkup.
So, her father was a businessman?
Her father was an inspector in the Public Works Department.
I see!
The priest said you have a very beautiful house.
Do you own it?
Yes, we do.
Anjali's father had it built. He made it with so much love.
Here she is!
Namaste.
Anjali.
Yes. Ask me whatever you want.
OK. I'll go first. How old are you?
28.
And what do you do?
I make pickles.
- Oh! What kind? - Mango, lemon, chili…
- A family business or you started it? - It's mine.
No, actually, it's my uncle's. I work under him.
Do you look after yourself, or does Mummy?
I can look after myself if I need to.
Wonderful!
The tea is getting cold.
Actually, I'm investigating a case.
Eight girls are missing.
I must get back to work. Do drop in at the station.
We'll offer you tea. Police special.
Ashish, son. Get the bill.
You enjoy humiliating me, don't you?
Did you have to interrogate him as though he was a criminal?
How can I get to know him without asking questions?
This is all your father's fault.
I kept telling him she's a girl, raise her like one.
But who listens to me!
Now, he's gone and left me with a menace to look after.
He didn't leave you.
He had cancer. He died.
Hop on!
Like hell, I will!
Rickshaw!
We were given all the basics we needed.
But our matron, Miss Pereira,
kept reminding us just how lucky we were
to live in an orphanage instead of sleeping on the streets.
I felt like telling her,
"Miss, if you call this life lucky,
I pray to God no one has my luck."
Same story.
I never really lacked anything in my life.
But there was no one to call my own.
I had heard the word "love"
but didn't know the feeling.
After my parents died,
my uncle and aunt were forced to look after me.
They educated me and did everything they could for me.
But I never felt their home was my home.
I always felt I was a burden.
Sorry, Richard.
I feel good when I talk to you.
I feel I have someone to call my own.
I've narrowed it down to 12 numbers.
They're all connected to one another.
The phones are registered to women, but none are in use.
We've talked to all the missing girls' families.
It's the same story. The girls were having an affair
and eloped. No one knows where they are.
- None of the girls have called home. - Right, sir.
In most cases, the families didn't even report it to the police.
Only the families of Krishna and Fatima approached us.
Since both girls were adults and had left notes behind,
we didn't think it necessary to follow up.
Sir, we need more clearances to verify phone records.
And an IT guy who can work full time with us.
Unlikely. The IT cell is understaffed as it is.
What news on the Altaf case?
Parghi is on it, sir.
I want results in both cases, Devi Singh.
Sir.
Would you like some tea?
Then maybe Miss Anjali will have some too.
She's always in a tearing hurry.
Should I order masala tea?
Not for me, sir.
They must've had some idea about the man they wanted to marry.
How could these girls elope with a complete stranger?
The pressure to marry, sir. Their families can't afford a dowry.
The parents keep telling the girl she's aging.
So, when a guy pays them some attention,
doesn't demand a dowry,
promises a better life,
why would the girl refuse?
With the daughter gone, the parents feel a burden has been lifted.
I don't get it. What kind of family would let…
If my daughter goes missing, for whatever reason,
I'd raise hell to find her.
My father would've done the same thing.
Send these fliers to all the nearby districts,
stations, hospitals, and morgues.
Got it?
SIKAR POLICE STATION
MISSING
We've studied the case files.
The IT cell has identified four more numbers.
There are 16 missing girls.
No time to lose.
Let's split up. Cover more ground.
If any of the girls are found alive, bring them in at once.
It's possible the other missing girls have eloped too.
Find out what you can about them.
Ask their friends and families. Someone may know about their disappearance.
Talk to everyone.
OK?
Yes, sir.
Shall we play after lunch?
Oh, no. What happened? Show me.
Sorry. I had to call you in at short notice.
They've been warned before.
If they want to play, they must play outside.
Not inside the school premises.
If they accidentally injure another pupil,
who would be responsible for it?
My son is innocent.
He's a bad influence.
Ma'am, we've received many complaints about Rakesh.
It's all Harry's influence. My boy's an angel at home.
Children will be children.
We shouldn't fight like them.
Rakesh and Harish,
this is your last warning.
If I hear another complaint, I'll take strict action. Got it?
Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.
They're sensible boys. They surely understand now.
It won't happen again, right?
No.
- Louder! - Yes, sir.
Good.
Let me see.
- Does it hurt? - No.
Wait a sec.
Excuse me, sir.
Thank you.
You handled it well.
- Anyone else would've made a scene. - It's OK.
I'm sorry Harry hurt Kapish.
He isn't badly hurt. They're kids, after all. It happens.
It's Rakesh's fault, Papa. I didn't do anything wrong.
He was batting.
So, it's the batsman's fault? Not the bowler's?
The principal said, "No cricket in school."
You're grounded for two weeks.
Come straight home from school. No TV, cricket, and no football.
- Two weeks is too long, Papa. - No, it's not.
It's better you find out what it's like getting expelled.
This is the only good school in Mandawa, and you're messing about.
You're lucky Kapish's father is good-natured.
I'm going to fill up petrol.
OK.
Unbelievable! Sixteen girls!
So, they all found their Prince Charming and eloped with him.
No trace of them ever since, Bhaati sir.
What do you think, Bhaati sir?
Did Shah Rukh Khan move to our town? Is he enticing these girls away?
I think the Devil has taken birth again.
BROTHER
Shall we go?
I love you.
I love you too.
How's my Lata?
How could she be without you?
How are you?
Just…
I miss you.
Listen.
Have you thought about what we discussed the other day?
Yes.
What did you decide?
You're right.
Let's run away.
Sure?
I love you, Lata.
Lata, I love you.
I'll make sure you won't regret your decision.
My sweet Lata!
I'll lay every happiness at your feet.