You don't use mustard oil for cooking, do you?
No, ma'am.
Chaaru, this is a Chinese restaurant.
I don't trust these Bengalis.
They love their mustard oil.
Okay, listen.
Cancel the chowmein.
Get Hakka noodles instead.
-Got that? -Yes.
Hello?
It's Jyoti.
Hi, Jyoti!
We're in Kolkata.
It's just about alright.
Not a patch on Lucknow.
Listen, leather bags are a specialty here.
Make sure you pop a mouth freshener.
Can't take that stink.
All good there in Lucknow?
The next song goes out to all the bleeding Bengali hearts out there.
The ones who looked for love
by the lake and in the Puja pandals,
in the nooks and corners of Park Street and Maidan...
and found it.
You got a lighter?
Sorry...
I am sorry.
The thing is...
even I used to write.
A bit broken you are
A bit broken I am
You spend your nights awake
I half sleep through the day
A bit sad you are
A bit sad I am
"You're angry with the world,
I'm annoyed with myself."
It's your turn now.
Forget it now
Look who goes there, yeah, yeah, it's the Dalit tiger!
Hey, Bajpayee!
Where's the chopper this time?
I'm wearing a dhoti, you see.
The wind would've created a scandal.
The hope of Dalits, the love of Dalits...
Jiji it is, Bajpayee it is!
The hope of Dalits, the love of Dalits...
Jiji it is, Bajpayee it is!
Bajpayee is in Chitrakoot, and Gwala is missing.
What am I missing here?
Ask Bajpayee himself.
He's having a press conference later today.
And you think I'll get a straight answer?
He's a high caste Brahmin.
His answer will be another question, to which there will be another answer,
which will be a question again.
That's Bajpayee for you.
Let's go.
In the forests of America...
there lives a spider.
It's called the Black Widow.
The female of the species has sex with her partner...
and then kills and devours him.
My Dalit brothers,
-beware the Black Widow. -Only media people allowed inside.
Beware the party...
claiming to be your lover.
It'll make love to you, but only till the election day.
Amitosh!
And then it'll eat you up.
Amitosh!
Just the way...
it devoured our Muslim brothers.
Hey, are you blind?
It's only thieves who run away from the police, Amitosh.
He helped Lord Rama...
cross Ganga river in his boat.
You don't need anyone's help.
Okay, what else?
New caste equations for the UP elections?
Sure.
That should be good for the next week's slate, Keerti.
I think we can squeeze in one more.
Maybe, we should let the interns pick the last one.
Excuse me... Rohit?
Rohit...
Sir, it's Rohan.
Rohan!
You got something for us?
Come on.
Give us something.
Twenty tips for a great Tinder profile, maybe?
Fake news.
Rohan mentioned his friend works in one of those fake news factories.
You should tell them about it, Rohan.
Sounded like a story to me, specially given the UP elections.
That's a nice idea.
Thank you.
My top choice would be the Indian Police Service.
I believe that my limited but
rich experience of ground level issues in the police force
will help me in displaying a holistic outlook as an officer.
And I'm certain that I'll be an asset to the Indian Police Service.
Imran, you were good until here.
But with the next question, you sounded a bit shaky.
Check for yourself.
What do you have to say about the current status of the minorities in this country?
Do you see a change in the last few years?
Sir, if the question is are minorities feeling threatened
in this country...
then I'd like to say I think so.
But is it a recent phenomenon?
Probably not.
Look, Imran...
when answering a politically loaded question like this...
it's important to come across as positive,
progressive.
Especially for you.
Got screwed in the mock interview itself?
Don't worry, you'll get through.
Minority representation and all that.
Hold this, quick.
Has she eaten?
Not yet.
Why?
Get the food, I'll feed her.
Savitri!
What happened, baby?
What's wrong?
Why haven't you eaten?
Are you angry or are you not feeling well?
Who's going to wear this?
Who's the mom-to-be here?
Felicia!
-I'm here, nothing will happen. -Yes?
Get some blankets. Fast!
I'll be right back.
Don't worry.
Found them?
Yes, got it.
Hurry up!
I'm right here, don't worry.
There's nothing to worry, Savitri.
I'm here.
Calm down.
Everything's going to be fine.
Turn down the AC, quick.
Sir, should we believe that the political equations in Chitrakoot are changing?
One should learn how to throw a curve ball like you, Srivastav.
Fine. A straight question, then.
Who's your party candidate for the elections this year?
I don't like engaging in speculations.
The final list of candidates will be out in a few days.
We aren't going anywhere, are we?
It'll all be clear soon.
Crystal clear.
Sir.
If you study the vote share of your party in the last couple of elections,
you'll see that it has gradually declined.
Any comments?
Look...
That's politics for you.
Ups and downs are a part of it.
So...
it doesn't affect me anymore.
And about the vote share, I've got the exact numbers here with me now.
You're right. The vote share of our party has declined.
But that share has not gone to any opposition party.
It has gone to...
a few independent candidates.
So, if you compare...
the difference in the vote share of our party and the other parties,
you won't find much difference.
Residence area ahead.
No one's allowed there.
Oh, is it?
Who is staying there?
Only Mr. Bajpayee and his Personal Assistant, Mr. Shukla.
There was a lady with Mr. Shukla.
I've seen her somewhere.
Now, what was her name?
You seem like a nosy fellow.
Who are you?
A journalist.
Babua, follow that car.
Would a silencer have screwed up your precious jet's speed?
Come on, sir!
Step on it!
Motherfucker!
Are you fucking blind?
Fuck me!
-I need a room. -Sure, sir.
Please, write your details here.
The 'C' stands for Chaaku.
Chanda. Shauki's mistress, before she hooked up with Tope Singh.
That wench used to blackmail me with pictures.
There are some old pictures.
They look personal to me.
There's no light here.
This angle is just not right.
Stop clicking.
I told you, stop!
What do you think you're doing?
What's this?
A 'C' tattoo?
C for?
Cat.
Meow.
This dog can do absolutely anything for his cat.
Anything, is it?
Anything.
Anything?
"Tinged with the colors of summer twilight,
in your eyes I saw...
my doom."
"In the daily interplay,
in the daily chores of people...
in jests and jokes of millions on life's flight."
"Amidst all, in your eyes...
I saw my doom."
Did you forget something?
What's going on? Who are you?
Delhi Police.
With you, for you, always.
Give me a moment. I need to change.
What nonsense is this!
How can you just walk in like this?
I've been searching for you, Miss Chanda.
You really gave us the run around.
Trust the police.
I only have a few questions.
About Tope Singh.
Tope Singh who?
Now, that's something.
Seems like that fool got the 'C' for Chanda tattooed on his arm for nothing.
I don't know what you're talking about.
And how can you barge in a woman's room like this?
Where's the woman constable?
I work for Bajpayee, in case you don't know.
One phone call, and you'll be suspended.
Make the call.
Shukla mustn't have gone very far. Call him.
I too need to tell him something.
About your 'method.'
The way you entrap men, and then screw them over,
and then move on to your next prey.
Go on, call him.
Or should I?
Go ahead.
Shukla knows everything about Chaaku.
And about Shauki?
I'm not sure how Shukla will take it...
when he'll learn that he's not the first sugar daddy you got cozy with.
Should I?
I was his accountant, sir.
He'd get fresh with me at every opportunity.
He knew how badly I wanted that job.
He took advantage of my situation.
And Chaaku?
He too exploited you?
He was a psycho!
Everything is so expensive here.
Don't worry, Dad.
Just order what you feel like.
My boss won't let me live in peace.
One moment.
I told you not to call me.
Where are you?
I'm at home. Hang up.
Don't lie.
There's no one at home.
I've been banging your door for fifteen minutes.
You--
I have come to Kolkata to meet your father.
I want to know why he won't let me marry you.
Because I'm a lower caste?
Does he know that his high caste daughter likes to fuck a low caste?
I'll kill myself here, right at your doorstep, Chanda!
Tell me where the fuck you are!
Charu, this is a Chinese restaurant.
So, you trapped Shukla?
I love him.
When I fell in love with him, all I knew was that he's a poet.
Later I learnt that he worked for Bajpayee.
So, how did you get Chaaku out of the way?
I told Shukla about Chaaku.
Then, a couple of months back,
Shukla asked me to convince Chaaku for an assignment.
What assignment?
He had to meet one Tyagi in a hotel in Delhi
and stay with him till the job was done.
Shukla promised me that Chaaku won't bother me after that.
I didn't know what the assignment was.
I'm telling you the truth. And then, I saw Chaaku's photo on TV.
I swear I don't know anything more than that.
Sir, I really don't know what I've gotten myself into.
I don't want all this.
I just want to live, make my parents happy.
Please help me, sir.
Sir...
I will...
I'll do whatever you ask of me, sir.
Please, help me.
Please.
For a minute there, I almost believed you.
Sir, please...
Please help me, sir.
Please, sir.
Yes, sir?
You've got a friend working for Vodatel, right?
Deepak?
Right. Tell him we need a phone record.
Whose record?
DCP Bhagat.
We need to know his whereabouts in the days leading to the four's arrest.
But, sir... he's the DCP! How can I just dig out his record?
I have a theory.
I'm not sure at this point.
Can't tell you more.
So, I should just follow orders without any questions.
Positive. Progressive.
Sorry.
I should've known better.
He's a very senior officer.
If someone gets a whiff of it, you'll lose your job.
Listen.
Forget we ever discussed this.
Why did you stop the music?
They're sleeping.
Who?
Come.
Dr. Dalal guided me on the phone.
And I helped her.
I helped Savitri deliver these cuties.
That's great, Dolly.
Aren't they beautiful?
Yeah.
It's okay, baby.
Don't worry.
There's nothing to be scared of.
Sanjeev, you can't be here.
She's not yet comfortable around you.
Don't mind.
Sorry.
Here I am, don't worry.
Calling so late? All good?
I'm fine. Are you alright?
Yes.
Why? What happened?
I don't know.
Something's nagging at my mind.
I'm missing you.
Be safe.
You, too.
Don't--
How's your tummy keeping?
Don't worry.
I'll be home soon.
-Okay, be good. -Yes.
Hey, stop!
You?
What is this?
What are you doing here?
Helping you.
Whatever I have to say, it's there in this list.
What is this?
List of candidates of the Samaaj Vikas Party.
To be announced next week.
Samaaj Vikas Party? That is...
Bajpayee's opposition party.
And there's Gwala Gujjar's name on the list.
But Bajpayee and Gwala are a team, right?
Since decades.
Donullia never wanted to get into politics.
He likes to stay in the shadows, support Bajpayee with muscle power.
All the Gujjars of Bundelkhand vote whoever Donullia asks them to vote for.
In return, Bajpayee awards contracts to Gwala,
who kicks back a percentage to Bajpayee.
It's a perfect arrangement.
And now this.
It's surprising Donullia allowed Gwala to contest the elections.
And that too against Bajpayee!
I should leave.
Why did Bajpayee's people ransack your office?
It's something everybody knows.
But nobody talks about.
Whenever Bajpayee goes on a tour,
he carries Jerry cans filled with water from the holy Ganga.
The man who is known as the king of Dalit hearts,
whenever he visits a Dalit house,
he goes back to the guest house and bathes with the holy water.
To 'cleanse' himself of the 'filth'.
I had put a shot of the Jerry cans in my news beat.
That's all it took.
They destroyed my office.
And left with a warning...
to be respectful when I cover Bajpayee's next rally.
It's not only thieves who run from the police, sir.
Sometimes, it's also the ones who speak the truth.
Chaaku. Chanda. Shukla. Bajpayee.
It's surprising Donullia allowed Gwala to contest the elections.
And that too against Bajpayee!
Bajpayee's party has been trying to create
a national presence for quite some time now.
Maybe, Sanjeev was right about this bit.
That his killing is a part of a larger plan.
Donullia never wanted to get into politics.
Master ji isn't here.
Leave now.
He said, ''I've been hearing this bullshit for three days.
I want to speak to Master ji right now."
He said he wouldn't do the job if he doesn't get to speak with Master ji.
But seems like he is busy with some prayers.
And then, there are his hitmen.
The most special and trusted of those is...
Tyagi.
Bajpayee.
Tyagi.
Motherfucker!
There's an office around where they maintain death records, right?
What?
Yes, it's at Ram Ghat.
Get your taxi.
It won't be possible at this hour.
Get here, motherfucker!
This damn journalist...
He has been making me tail Gwala Gujjar's car since morning.
He'll go down and take me along.
Don't know what I've gotten myself into.
Yes, Deepak?
I've sent you the screenshot you wanted.
But please remember to delete it.
Yes. Don't worry. Thanks.
Take it ahead.
Sir, it's on the first floor.
You have a spanner?
Who's there?
Stop. Who is it?
I said who's it?
Open the door.
Yes, Ansari?
Sir, I've got DCP Bhagat's cell phone records.
Strangely, they felt vaguely familiar.
I matched those with Tope Singh's cell phone records.
And it's a perfect match!
DCP Bhagat had been following them for three days before the arrest.
Motherfucker Bhagat!
What's the matter, sir?
If intelligence had information about those four,
why didn't they arrest them right away?
This entire operation was a setup, Ansari.
In the so-called murder attempt,
Sanjeev Mehra was never the target.
The targets were those four.
Listen, do one thing.
Get copies of Bhagat's cell phone records.
Babua, let's go.
I have some more information.
Let me call you first thing in the morning and--
What have you got, sir?
I'll WhatsApp you the records. But what info do you have?
Hello?
Sir?
Sir, I can't hear you.
Hello?
You there?
Sir, I... I can't hear you.
What were you saying?
Hello?
Sir?
Are you alright?
Sir, hello?