Shaheed-E-Mohabbat Boota Singh

Shaheed-e-Mohabbat Boota Singh

"Martyr-in-Love Boota Singh"?

I didn't get it. A Sikh's tomb in a Muslim graveyard?

Yeah, a Sikh's tomb in a Muslim graveyard.

Because who sacrifice themselves for love, are beyond religions.

You're not talking straight. I still didn't understand.

Dear friend, it seems that you're not from around here.

Because if you were a Lahori, you'd have never asked the question.

Boota Singh's anniversary is being celebrated today.

Look, the whole Lahore is here to pay respect. Look!

You're right. I really don't know.

Who was Boota Singh? And what noble he did...

..that Muslims, who were killing Sikhs in 1947,

..paying respect to a Sikh, today?

You were talking about Lahoris?

The people who brutally killed the Sikhs and set their houses on fire.

Boota Singh extinguished that fire of hatred with love...

and filled their hearts with love only.

Let me know the story of Boota Singh.

If he was a human or an angel.

He was just a human like you and I.

But what he did for his love...

would surely make angels salute him.

The story is old enough.

Many years before the independence,

when we were being ruled by the Britishers.

Boota Singh was a soldier from Jalandhar.

After fighting under the command of Lord Mount Batten,

..when Boota Singh returned back to his village from the Burma front,

..all his age-mates were married, having their own families.

Boota Singh's youth was flying away.

But a hope to have a family of his own...

..was still floating in some corner of his heart.

Recognize me?

I'm Boota. Boota Singh!

You were of this (tiny) size when I left the village.

But now you're taller than me!

No friends? Alone here?

I was at the front, but why you're alone, huh?

What?

Yeah, I'm not so young, too.

Okay friend. Bye then.

We'll talk later sometime.

Hmm?

Let me touch your feet , uncle!

Why are you staring like that, uncle?

I'm Boota. Not his ghost.

Thank God, you're back alive from the front!

Couldn't be here when my father died.

Don't be sad. Come in. Come.

Hey, see who is here! Come. Come in.

- Sat Sri Akaal! - Don't you bow down before me...

..but the Guru Granth Sahib.

No, not more.

I know, you'll now go to the temple and then the mosque.

The lovely thing is that you don't visit the places to worship.

Don't know what people think of you?

But a person like you is always dear to the God.

Give me.

Take it and go now.

Now, what's your plan for the future, Boota?

Nothing, uncle.

Just farming.

And will get married, full filling father's last wish...

that he expressed in every letter.

Son, the younger ones are unmarried.

How could you find a bride at this age?

I suggest recite Japji Sahib daily. It'll be better for you.

Whatever God decides, uncle.

Let me see how is my home.

- Okay then, uncle. - Okay.

- Bye, aunt. - Bye, Boota.

- Bye, brother. - Bye, bro.

He's gonna die unmarried.

His part of land will be ours, son.

Mother. Mother, I'm hungry, too.

Eat this hot Prauntha, son.

Here you go.

Oi, Boota, isn't your fast today?

O leave it ji, my son is hungry, let him eat.

He is going to be a soldier.

He's not gonna be weak if he miss a time.

Look, he'll not be fasting until I'm here.

Who's gonna care when I'm gone.

Who are you?

- Ramzani. And you? - Boota Singh.

Where you came from?

- From the (Burma) front. - Where will you go?

Nowhere.

The ones who come, don't go, and those who've gone, don't come.

But I'm not either one of them.

I'll stay. It's my home.

- Home? It's your home? - Hmm.

Yeah, brother, it's my home.

- But I have no home. - Then where do you live?

In the village. The whole village is my home.

Then, it means you're the owner of the village.

You're the king and we, your people.

You're my people?

Now, come...

- ..and help your people. - Huh? What do I do?

- Help me cleaning the house. - How?

- By sweeping. - You got it!!

- Take it. - Throw away, dude.

Hey, where are you going?

Bibi (Lady), give me some water, please.

Boota Singh, you?

Santo?

Did your wife also come or is there?

- I'm not married yet. - Why?

I heard that Burmese girls are very charming.

- But not for me. - Really?

Why?

There was a girl...

..to whom I, once, promised to get married to.

If you'd have gone after we got married,

..I would still be waiting for you.

How long a (unmarried) girl can wait?

10 years? 20?

It's extremely hard to fight with time, Boota.

No matter how hard you fight, it finally defeats you.

Even Heer, Sassi and Sohni were defeated...

then who am I?

- Boota. - Hmm?

Today, you'd have been the father of 3 children.

- Three? - Yeah.

I'm mother of 3 children.

- He is the eldest. - Come here, boy.

- What is your name? - Boota.

Boota.

Let's go home, mother.

Okay.

It's all about fate, Santo.

Some have good, and some have bad.

Are you gonna stay or go back?

I'm done there, I think.

Okay.

- Are you home, soldier? - Come, Shah ji, come in.

These works doesn't suit you, soldier.

- They belongs to women. - I know.

- But God didn't make one for me. - No, no, no. Don't blame god.

- He sent me as a medium to you. - So, you know some magic trick?

I frequently visit U.P. & Bihar for business.

There is much poverty.

From there, I can manage a beautiful wife for you.

But it'll cost some money.

- How much? - Rupees 2000, nearly.

Two thousand. But I have only 500.

No problem. Borrow from your uncle?

He has a family to feed.

They have their own needs.

Find some other way then.

I have some productive land...

..that can save me, nearly, 500 a year.

Meaning it'll take about 3 years.

Okay call me when you've managed.

I got to go now.

You'll be married, finally.

After being assured by Vilayati Ram,

Boota Singh's dying hope was young again.

He started saving every penny for that.

Poor Boota Singh worked hard 24/7 trying to save the maximum.

Time continue passing by days, weeks and years.

AUGUST, 1947 PARTITION OF INDIA

The train stopped in the jungle.

We sat breathless.

In some time, Muslims came with their swords waving in the air.

And shouting "Allah Hoo", they started killing everyone.

They killed my mother and son before my eyes.

They took my daughter away.

There were dead bodies around me.

They left me for dead to die every moment.

When the train arrived Jalandhar,

there were dead bodies all around. Dead bodies all around

They killed our Sikh and Hindu brothers...

..and Muslims here are still living fearless.

It's not their fault.

Why take revenge from the Muslims living here?

Why not? Aren't they Muslims?

Then what?

They belong here, not Arab.

They are one of us. Our brothers, our friends.

It's our duty to protect them.

But what if our neighbor villages attacked them?

Riots are everywhere.

In my opinion, they should be taken to a safe place.

They'll be back when it's over.

Till then, we'll take care of their houses etc..

Yeah, that's better.

So, Boota Singh, it's your responsibility.

You're an experienced one.

Lambardar ji, I promise,

..they'll reach the camp safe and sound.

I'll protect them till my last breath.

- "Jo Bole So Nihaal...!!" - "..Sat Sri Akaal!!!"

Okay, Boota Singh. May god bless you.

Take these keys.

If we never come back...

- ..then everything is yours. - What are you saying uncle.

You'll definitely be back.