How many stars sparkle in the sky?
Ever tried counting them?
It would take 6,000 years to count those in our galaxy alone.
How many such galaxies exist?
Scientists reckon two billion more.
Isn't it possible that amongst these billions of celestial bodies
a planet with people like us exists?
As we explore space looking for them,
couldn't they be coming here, looking for us?
Hindi pop song.
What the thief stole was the gadget to recall his spaceship.
Without this remote he could not return home.
He neither knew our language, nor had a friend here.
Alone, anguished, his only thought was...
.. how will I return home?
On the pathway of Time Life is but a brief flame.
In its luminous mist We wish, we dream, we exist.
But on a beautiful bend.
A stranger may we meet.
Life after life.
Whose memory may persist.
Extra ticket. Anyone extra ticket?
- Yes sir... - I'll take it!
Sorry, I raised my hand first.
But I called out first
I'm a big fan of Mr Bachchan, the poet
I'm a bigger fan of his son, the actor.
From age ten, I know all his poems. Fully memorized.
From age five, I know his son's dialogues - without memorizing.
Hello, who wants it?
Give me. Poetry's not his cup of tea
€100
€100 for a €40 ticket? Black market of poetry!
Queued up six long hours for this.
Time is money.
- Go for the dialogues. - All yours. Ladies first.
Just a sec! Why not split the ticket?
1st half you enjoy the poetry. 2nd half I'll savor the acting.
That's a damn good idea!
10, 20, 30, 40
50 more
- 96 - 96
€96. How about a discount? We're from the same country.
Hail India, bro!
Long live motherland! €100.
Extra ticket. Anyone extra ticket?
Sir!
Can I borrow €4? Please!
Keep my watch till I repay.
Please, Sir, it's the last ticket.
Show is sold out, child. No tickets left.
There is one left with that black marketer.
Scoundrel! Giving India a bad name.
So true!
Wait here. I'll get you that ticket.
OK, Sir.
Thank you.
Yes!
- Sir! - Do I know you?
Where's my ticket?
Ticket? Yours for € 100.
You bloody cheat!
Decaying dacoit! Senile snake! Capitalist!
Mind your language!
Mind your coat first!
- Now enjoy the show! - Security!
- Wrinkled wreck! - Security!
Let's get outta here
I'll get you for this!
Don't chase me... catch him!
Oldies these days! It's a spoilt generation!
Forget it.
How can I?
That bandit basks in poetry and here I am.
Drop it.
Why pine for the party that shuns us?
Follow the moment that beckons us
I too dabble in poetry.
It's nice. Go on.
No. If I go on, you'll propose to me.
- You crazy? - I mean it!
Your favourite poet, senior Mr Bachchan
met a lady one morning, wooed her with verse.
By dusk they were married. So I've read.
Really?
And boy! Look what they produced -
Amitabh Bachchan - the great actor.
Jaggu.
Jaggu?
My name.
Papa named me Jagat Janani: World's mother
I got mocked at school so I shortened it - Jaggu.
- From Mumbai? - No. Delhi
I'm studying TV production.
And you?
Sarfaraz. I study architecture
and work part time at the Pakistan Embassy
Pakistan Embassy? Why?
Well, I'm from Pakistan.
Unlikely the Indian Embassy will employ me!
What's wrong?
Nothing.
My being from Pakistan perturbs you?
Al right then.
Goodbye.
Ask not my name, nor my country.
From bondage of borders break free.
A few steps on this brief journey.
Come, just walk with me.
Ask not my name, nor my country.
From bondage of borders break free.
A few steps on this brief journey.
Come, just walk with me.
Past the realms of word and speech.
Hand in hand, nowhere to reach.
A few steps on this brief journey.
Come, just walk with me.
Past the realms of word and speech.
Hand in hand, nowhere to reach.
A few steps on this brief journey.
Come, just walk with me.
If the sun scorches the pathway.
A carpet of shade will I lay.
If darkness fills you with dismay.
I'll conjure up a moon in the sky.
If dejection fills up your day.
With laughter I'll shoo it away.
Laughing, frolicking, humming a song.
Together we shall walk along.
With you, my fellow traveller.
Nothing in this world I fear.
Why a few steps, a whole lifelong.
With you I'll walk along.
Past the realms of word and speech.
Hand in hand, nowhere to reach.
A few steps on this brief journey.
Come, just walk with me.
- Thank you. - Thank you.
Mom!
Papa!
She's fallen in love!
Fallen in love?
He's so cute!
More photos please!
What's his job? What's his family like?
Calm down Mom. I'll tell you.
First, the name.
Sarfaraz
Muslim?
Yes. Studies architecture. Family is in Pakistan
Pakistan! Which Pakistan?
There's just one Pakistan, Mom.
You'll wear burkhas?
Read the QURAN? Have you gone mad?
Don't you disconnect. Stay put.
Start the car.
All's doomed, Your Holiness. Help!
I knew exactly where Papa was headed.
Since childhood one face had surrounded us: His Holiness.
Bye Mom.
From bags to bathroom walls,
he was omnipresent.
Even for a root canal he would set the auspicious time.
He had gifted Papa a God box with a deity for every task.
Goddess of Wealth for the stock market.
God of Health for workouts.
Web-based worship and sacred sweets by courier
were his innovations.
Hail, Your Holiness.
Touch his feet Jaggu.
Why this fatal infatuation?
Pick up a pen and write
God.
Enlighten me.
Yes...
Your wish is our command.
Write down the prophecy.
This Pakistani boy,
Sarfaraz,
will betray you
I know he won't.
History stands witness: These people scheme and betray.
He will pursue carnal pleasures.
But will never marry you. He'll vanish.
Come home now! One more night there, and you're dead to us.
Mr Sahni, I'll talk to her.
Child, hit the delete button.
Banish him from your system.
Hello!
What happened?
Do you love me?
Of course I do. Why?
- Will you marry me? - What's the matter?
Yes or no, Sarfaraz?
- Yes, but... - Tomorrow.
Tomorrow?
Tomorrow we get married.
His prophecy is wrong. I'll prove it.
Mr James Herrick and Miss Oprah Brown, you're next.
- James isn't here, yet. - Oh, talk to the registrar.
Could you just hold this please?
- Yes of course. - Thank you.
Hello...
This is for you.
- For me? - Yeah.
Thank you.
It was from Sarfaraz.
He said: Marriage isn't just between individuals, but families.
Our faiths, countries, cultures are different.
We can never be happy if our families are unhappy.
Don't try to contact me.
I'm sorry.
Where to go young lady?
New Delhi.
I came back to my city, but my parents refused to see me.
I joined a news channel as a reporter.
Today's story: A depressed dog.
That's our breaking news!
Some days we had news, some days we fabricated it
God.
If found, contact Tipsy.
There's a story in this man. I'll see you at office.
Don't be late!
Excuse me?
Why are you handing these out?
I have a case pending with Him.
He neither solves it, nor meets me.
My life is kaput.
He's gone into hiding.
Have you seen Him around?
No.
Hail Goddess, Hail Holy Mother.
By the way, what's with the helmet?
Got the idea from taxi-tops.
Yellow yells out from miles.
Taxis are spotted easily in traffic.
- So? - So God can spot me easy!
How else will he spot me in this crowd?
A bit to your left - perfect!
Ok, background?
Cue Jaggu.
They say animals are not suicidal.
Here's Nikku. Mr Sweetie Singh's dog.
Nikku has attempted suicide thrice.
Jumping off a roof, licking sleeping pills, hopping onto a gas burner.
What's wrong with Nikku?
Is Nikku prey to a mental problem?
Is Nikku...
What's wrong Jaggu?
What is this shit, Mitu?
Our chat with famed industrialist Mr Ratan continues
right after this break.
Going well, Ratan? Some coffee?
Get him some coffee.
- Cherry... - Oh no!
What's your guess? This dog has depression, anxiety disorder,
schizophrenia, or ADHD?
Whatever, why would I care?
Exactly.
Why would anyone care? Then why do we air such bull?
What would you rather air?
Hold him please.
See this?
I met a guy distributing these pamphlets.
- He is searching for God. - Found Him?
No... but.
Searching for God - that's religion. Finding God - that's news.
If he finds God, get him. I'll put him on air.
You know the Company policy.
No news on religion, no news on God. Finished.
Man, you've changed!
Where's the fighter, Cherry Bajwa?
You wanna see the fighter?
Take a good look.
There are three marks here.
These aren't birthmarks
I ran a show against His Holiness, your Dad's Guru.
His devotees shoved a trident right here in my bum.
Anchor coming to you in 10 seconds.
That day I swore - if you want to live in this country
don't mess with religion. That's it.
- I've got a show to run now. - 5... 4...
3...
2...
1...
Welcome back from the break.
We were chatting with famed industrialist Mr Ratan...
The boss killed my story.
But it came back to life two weeks later.
Stop! Thief!
He's stealing from the donation box!
Don't let him go!
Lifting from the donation box, you fool?
Yes.
He's no thief!
While donating my wallet fell in the box.
He was getting it out for me.
Trust me.
Check for yourself. It has Rs 5,000 in it.
- That's mine! - It was.
Once in the box, it's donated.
Now, it's God's. Let them go.
Dude, what the hell were you up to?
Claiming my refund
God took His fee but didn't deliver.
Hang on...
I saw you fish out some money, then put some back in
I took back what I'd paid at this branch. Returned the rest.
You used to wear beads and amulets?
Rejected. Gone for good.
Why the stickers then?
Self-defense!
God pics on walls - prevent peeing
on face - prevent punches.
Mitu, where are you?
Pick me up. I've no money to get home
I'll fill you in later
I'm at Mudrika, outside the temple.
Hurry. Thanks, bye.
Here you go.
- For what? - For the ride home.
When someone can't get home, I feel sad.
- Wait. - That's all I had
I can't accept this.
- Why? - Won't you need it to get home?
Money can't get me home.
Why? Where do you live?
In the step-well ruins.
But in this rainy season, I check into a lock-up.
Lock-up! As in police lock-up?
There are 122 in the city. I yo-yo between them.
And they let you check in, like a hotel?
Come. I'll give you a demo.
Just watch!
Hey, copper - look here proper!
I'll show you proper!
Jaggu!
We have to follow that van.
- Who are we chasing? - A story.
Gimme your wallet. I need cash.
Hurry! Thanks. Bye.
Excuse me?
Yes?
I want to go inside the lock-up.
Why?
To meet that guy.
You think this is the local coffee joint, huh?
Saunter in and chillax with your buddies?
This is a lock-up, get it?
Only offenders get in.
Bribing is an of fence!
That's why I'm committing it!
I can lock you in.
Please do... ASAP!
- Thank you, Mr Pandey. - One hour, that's it.
Hi
I want your story. Will you share it?
Why?
I'm a TV reporter. It's my job.
- Go on, ask. - Awesome!
Your name?
Don't have a name.
They call me Tipsy here. Beats me why.
And what do you do?
I'm an astronaut.
Astronaut!
Those who shoot off to the moon?
Been there once. It's kaput.
Sure!
So what's your favourite planet?
- My own. - I meant besides Earth?
Earth is mega-kaput
I meant my own planet.
It'll show up there at night.
We went bananas,
when we found another planet with people like us
I was sent here on a research mission.
Boy, what a welcome I got!
My remote got robbed.
Without it, I can't signal my people
and without a signal they won't come for me.
They'll think it's a perilous planet.
That I'm dead as a dodo.
Hello!
- Listen... - What?
Let me out. I want to go home.
Your Highness, convicts don't decide that. Cops do
I'm not a thief.
So say all the thieves.
Where's officer Pandey?
Out on his rounds.
Officer Pandey!
Shut up, or you get a knuckle sandwich.
You think I'm talking baloney?
Obviously!
Is Hindi the official language of your planet?
On our planet...
there's no language!
We read minds. There's no confusion.
Here, you utter something and mean something else.
A two-letter word can have four different meanings.
When you nod and say "oh", it means "Oh, that's cool".
When your eyes pop out, "oh!" means bad news.
"Your mother-in-law is moving in." "Oh!"
When angry, you thunder.
"Oh! You'll pay for that blunder!"
And when your thought is deep, your "oh" is long!
"Ohhhhhhh! I see!"
As you hear the words, you gotta watch the expression
to get the real meaning.
It's torture! Took full 6 hours to learn Hindi.
A whole language in 6 hours?
No one let me hold hands.
Finally, a nice lady lent her hand
I held it and transferred her language into my system.
Man, there's no limit to your whoppers!
Is your hand a USB cable,
that transfers files between computers?
And your clothes? Are faded jeans the rage on your planet too?
Noooo!
On our planet...
no one wears clothes. There we go bare.
Here, at first I thought
your skins were different from ours.
Some had sparkly hides,
some jet black.
Some hides were colourful, some white.
Some hides sticky-tight, some baggy.
Then one day I found a car.
A dancing car.
That day I realized our skins were the same
but yours are covered with a thing called fashion.
Radio Commercial.
Now I could mingle.
Yet I was mocked.
Look here - half man, half woman!
Slowly I got it.
There's man - fashion and woman - fashion.
There was day fashion...
.. and night fashion.
Sporting fashion...
.. and serving fashion.
With the clothes, I found some photos.
It hit me - these photos meant survival.
You could swap them for food.
So I built a portfolio of this old man's photos.
What's this?
What are these for?
Why are you giving me this junk?
Right! Now we're talking!
Here you go.
I got it: This photo had value on just one kind of paper.
On any other paper, it was worthless.
For cash and clothes, dancing cars were widely available.
They were my bank, they were my tailor!
Once, I got such magnetic attire
that no photos were needed.
Food was pulled to me.
For you, Sir.
Now, to find my remote, I had to learn this planet's language.
Without it, every task was a trial.
Like telling this gentleman
there was a defect in his fashion.
I felt I had spoilt his fashion.
So I put it back where it was.
Found him on the road.
Some scum bag hit him and bolted.
Seems pretty okay,
but isn't responding.
Has his eardrum called it a day?
Are you deaf?
Can hear al right, but isn't talking.
Seems in a state of shock.
Memory loss, I'm afraid.
Remember the scum bag who hit you?
Remember the license plate?
Remember anything at all?
Come my friend. Come with me.
Be my guest till you get your memory back.
Keep slamming your head.
One knock took your memory away, another might bring it back.
Seen it in the movies.
To figure what he was yapping about,
I had to hold his hand and transfer his language.
Hey!
With memory loss your gender sense went for a toss?
Wait a moment...
See this - my license.
MALE
Man...
rogue, rascal, scum bag.
To return home I had to hold someone's hand.
Here comes my zany guest.
Can't tell guy from gal Happily hits on all.
Here comes my zany guest.
Can't tell guy from gal Happily hits on all.
Your frantic antics if not stilled, will surely get me killed!
Don't be a scourge Do curb your urge.
Here comes the lusty lad My guest with this crazy fad.
Tourist in tacky gear are you from near or far.
From Mumbai, Madrid or Madagascar.
Tourist in tacky gear are you from near or far.
From Mumbai, Madrid or Madagascar.
What was your name at school Was it nerdy or was it cool?
What's the zip code Of your abode.
Did you alight from a cloud Or sprout from underground.
Your frantic antics if not stilled, will surely get me killed!
Don't be a scourge Do curb your urge.
Here comes the lusty lad My guest with this crazy fad.
This memory loss is a blessing.
Feuds forgotten lenders left guessing.
Lovable lad.
Innocent lad.
Don't be a scourge Do curb your urge.
Here comes the lusty lad My guest with this crazy fad.
Here comes the lusty lad!
Here comes the lusty lad My guest with this crazy fad
I feel your pain, bro.
But don't go grabbing hands.
You may end up in bed, but most likely a hospital bed.
Don't give up, I know place for you.
Hand, foot - hold whatever.
No one will bash you here.
Come.
What a neighbourhood! Virtuous, welcoming women.
All reaching for my hand, inviting me home.
Here I met a serene and gentle woman, Pepper.
Pepper, take him to the honeymoon suite.
Pepper sat patiently all night.
For full 6 hours, I transferred her language files.
ABC - XYZ, I drew in everything.
First time?... Kaput before you kicked off?
Y...y... yes!
Where are you from?
Far, far away.
From an unheard of village.
But you speak my lingo!
Because I learnt it from you, Sister.
Sister! You think this is a convent? Out!
Bro!
Bro, wake up!
Bro!
You're talking!
Bro, I need your help.
Pepper cleared up your throat!
Bro, come with me quick.
Memory and making out have a direct connection!
Update the docs: Get laid, get well!
It's urgent, bro!
Okay, let's go.
Stop... stop!
Stop, bro!
The jerk robbed me right here
I need my chain, bro. I must get it back.
- Precious? - It's priceless!
The thief must be a local.
But he'll sell the loot in Delhi.
If he sold pricey stuff here, he'd get caught.
Then I must go.
Where?
Delhi.
- Officer! - Yeah?
- My remote control is stolen. - Are you tipsy?
Expect the police force to track your TV remote?
- It's not a TV remote! - Then?
Can't tell you. But it's like a chain.
Really precious.
- Where was it stolen? - In Mandawa.
And you're searching in Delhi, you idiot?
The thief came to Delhi.
- So? - So where's the thief?
Blockhead! It's a city of 15 million.
Police are human, not God.
Only God can help you.
Surrender to God, you'll succeed.
Only God knows.
Ask God, not me!
Trust in God, my child.
Who was this God chap? All said only He could help.
What I saw blew my mind.
Earthlings had figured out who had manufactured them!
Their creator lived with them. He had millions of houses.
Earthlings took their problems to Him, which He solved for a small fee.
My planet had no such facility.
I could not believe it! So decided to test it.
One take-away God.
Which one? Rs 20, 50, 100, 500?
Any difference? In the Rs 20 and Rs 500 ones?
Just the size. Otherwise ditto.
Rs 20 God is equally efficient?
OK, gimme Rs15! Nothing less
God, I am famished. Get me some food please.
I went bananas.
God actually worked! Now I could go home
God, my remote is stolen.
Please find it. I want to go home.
God's battery died. Worked once, then kaput.
What do you mean?
Stick a new battery in. Where does it go?
- It needs no battery. - Then why is it off?
- Manufacturing defect? - I make no defective stuff.
- You made this God? - Of course! With my own hands.
You made God, or God made you?
He made us all - I only make His statues.
Why the statues?
To worship Him. To voice our problems.
Is there a transmitter inside? How can He hear us?
God needs no transmitter. He hears directly.
Directly? Then why the statue?
What's with him?
Want to bust my business? What's your problem?
My remote is stolen, Sir
I'm requesting God. But He doesn't reply.
- Are you tipsy? - Meaning?
You're overloading this pint-sized God.
His itty-bitty feet can't chase the thief.
Bother the big God inside the temple.
He'll run fast.
Offer Him coconut and money - He'll deliver.
That'll be Rs 200.
Earthlings waited with fees to get their work done.
Full 2 hours later I got the appointment
God,
please get my remote back.
- Where is it? - Move!
Wait, He didn't deliver my stuff.
He didn't deliver! See, I paid His fee.
- Your work will be done. - But when?
Can't say when, but it will be done.
- Move on. - But when will I get it?
Don't block the line, scram!
If I scram, someone else may get it.
Are you tipsy?
Lady, please! Where will I get my stuff?
At the mental hospital!
What? Cash here, delivery at mental hospital!
- Throw him out! - OK, give me a receipt.
Out!
Without a receipt how do I claim my delivery?
Get out!
But my remote?
Leave!
I can't find my shoes.
Someone's taken them. Now you take your pick.
Rotation is routine at temples.
He took the payment, didn't deliver.
What's his name?
- They call Him God. - Real name?
No idea.
Where does he live?
In that temple.
- You handed him the cash? - No. Put it in His box.
- Said he'd do the job? - He says nothing.
Is he mute?
Perhaps... maybe.
Oh...
Describe him.
Ditto.
But a bigger chap.
Come near...
Are you tipsy?
Yes. How do you all know?
Think I'm a jackass? 20 years a cop!
Who's tipsy who's not I can tell in a snap.
Frisk him.
Let me have a look.
Dr D'Mello...
Doc, why get so buzzed you forget your faith?
Mistook temple for a church! Wanna rouse a riot?
Go to church. To your own God.
Church?
Get out of here.
My stuff! My remote!
God was crucified for your sins. Ungrateful man!
Crucified! When?
2,000 years ago. For your sins!
What did I do? I just got here.
- Are you tipsy? - Yes!
God is watching you. Behave.
Where?
Where is God?
What's in the mug?
Wine.
Wine! Now I got it!
God was bored of coconut water.
Now He preferred wine. But wine was expensive.
So I had to muster money.
I got some from the dancing car, some from a gentleman
who held out a bowl of dole everyday.
You could withdraw as per need.
Sir, any God house around here?
Right there.
Preacher, let me drink in God's abode.
Or show me a place where there is no God.
Stop! What's that?
Wine, for God.
Where is He?
This lady looked very sad.
To know why, I grabbed her hand.
Hitting on a widow, you lech!
Widow? How do you know?
Don't you see she's clad in white?
Is everything fine?
Everything is fine.
Just relax. Smile.
So sorry your husband's dead.
- What? - When?
How do I know? You are clad in white.
Brides wear white!
No, widows wear white.
Widows wear black, stupid!
Now don't stress her out. Go!
All three lost your husbands?
I'm alive you moron! Want a whack?
After many whacks, I learnt
there wasn't one God. There were many Gods.
Each with His own set of rules.
Each God had floated His own Company.
They called it religion.
Each Company had its own agents.
All Earthlings belonged to some religion
and followed the God of that religion alone.
What was my religion, who was my God?
To find the remote I had to know my God.
What are you doing?
Where is the label?
What label?
The Religion label.
How do you know which Company he belongs to?
Where does God label them?
Security!
Finding my religion was tough.
So I decided to worship all Gods.
One of them would be my God, who'd help me.
It's You who governs The world I hear.
Do listen to my plea My home beckons me.
God where are You.
Tell me where are You.
You guide back to sanity Those who've lost their way.
I too am completely lost Guide me too, I pray.
God where are You.
Tell me where are You.
Shall I worship You in temples.
In mosques do my faith I show.
Or to a gurudwara would You like me to go.
Temples and churches, I looked everywhere.
My hope now, has turned to despair.
Not a single ritual Did I ever flout.
Like millions around I submit without a doubt.
God where are You.
Tell me where are You.
You have many names And many faces too.
I've walked each of the myriad paths which lead to You.
In no shrine did I find You.
What else should I do To find you give a clue.
I blindly follow and With reverence treasure.
Your every whim and fancy In more than ample measure.
God where are you.
Tell me where are you.
God where are you.
Tell me where are you
God - I'm all confused.
What's my fault? Why can't my voice reach you?
Understand my plight.
Give me some guidance.
Please.
Shall I talk to you with hands clasped,
or on bent knees, head to the ground?
Do I wake you with temple bells?
Or call out on a loudspeaker?
The Geeta, the Quran, the Bible - what do I read?
Your different managers say different things.
Some insist fast on Monday, others urge on Tuesday.
Some forbid food after sunset, some after sunrise.
Some say, worship the cow. Others say slaughter her.
Some send me barefoot to the temple, some wearing shoes to the church.
What is right, what is wrong
I am clueless
I'm at breaking point
I want to go home
I'll do whatever you ask. Just get me home.
Please.
Say something.
At least one of you...
give me some answer.
Please.
God.
Why the lock man?
I gotcha today.
Open! It's my entry!
Lord Shiva, slayer of sins
who fears none.
Security! Who are you?
Don't you recognize me?
I'm Tipsy!
Where the hell is security?
Do I perform for boozards in the toilet?
Unlock that door now!
My remote first!
- What remote? - Of my spaceship.
Space... ship?
Memory loss? For the zillionth time,
I'm not from here. I'm from a far off planet.
Scooch!
Gimme my remote, and I go home. Got it?
Brother let me go. I've little kids at home
I know! You fathered two Gods.
Both are centuries old. They can be home alone.
First my remote, then your family reunion.
Oh God, save me please...
There's a God above you too?
Lord Shiva, help.
Where?
Now presenting the dance of Shiva, the fearless.
Help!
Hail Lord Shiva.
Hail Lord Shiva
I was meditating on the snowy peaks of the Himalayas
when, suddenly - light!
Dazzling light!
It came from a bead lying in the snow
I shut my eyes and invoked God.
Next moment, I was connected
I said, "God, enlighten me,".
What is this miraculous object,
that is warm even in this biting cold?
God said,
it's a divine bead from Lord Shiva's necklace.
Take it and enshrine it in a grand temple.
Sighting this bead will heal all suffering.
Hail Lord Shiva.
Are you ready for the sighting?
The divine bead from Lord Shiva's necklace!
Hail Lord Shiva.
Stop.
Let him through. He's awed by the sight.
- Come. - Hail Lord Shiva.
Not there child. Come here.
Express your ecstasy.
Hail Lord Shiva.
Hail Lord Shiva
God, where are you? Please step out,
I want to thank you.
He's right here
I met Him in the toilet
I asked for my property and He bolted
I thought He vamoosed.
But no! He led me to my property.
Hail Lord Shiva.
This isn't Lord Shiva's bead.
It's my property, misdelivered to you.
Your bead must be misdelivered too.
Ask God, He is right here. God, do step forward, clarify.
Anyway, I'll take my property.
That's mine! Why're you stopping me?
Hail Lord Shiva.
Since when have you felt you're from another planet?
Listen. You need to see a psychiatrist.
Time up! Rs 500 can buy only this much jail time.
Here's my card.
My number's on it. I'll get you an appointment if you wish.
Feel free to call. Okay?
Take care.
Thank you officer Pandey.
You don't believe my story?
Then go back to the suicidal dog, Nikku.
That's the story for you
I need to go back in for 2 minutes.
Quit these entry - exits.
Another Rs 500, he's all yours.
When did I mention Nikku, the suicidal dog?
You didn't.
So how do you know?
When you held my hands, I read your thoughts.
You thought: This story is dead
I got to live with the Nikku story.
Don't lie! I must have mentioned it
I cannot lie. Lies need language.
On our planet we hold hands, read minds.
- Gimme your hand. - No way.
- Try it... - Help me, son.
My wife's ill. Hospital wants a deposit of Rs 10,000
I'm Rs 500 short. If you can help...
I'll give you.
Here.
Give your address. I'll courier a check.
Courier can't reach my home. Please keep it.
Thank you.
Sir...
Here's another Rs 100. For the tip.
Bless you.
Confirmed. You are no mind reader.
You got conned. There is no hospital around here
I know!
He's gifting his wife a five star dinner.
It's her 75th birthday.
She'd never been to a fancy place.
He's been saving from his pension for months.
She ordered ice-cream and his budget went kaput.
With a restroom excuse, he ran out for some bucks.
Another yarn!
On our planet, we don't lie.
Anyway, it's up to you.
- Here. - Thank you Sir.
One moment. Tip him.
Why hold back - it's your birthday!
Thank you.
Step-well ruins
I told you. On my planet, we don't lie.
Hope you haven't told anyone...
that you're an alien?
No way!
They'd lock me in a lab, and rip me up for research!
How come you told me?
Ever since I set foot on this planet
everyone has taken money from me.
You were the first to give it up for me - dumping Rs 5,000 in a box
I thought you are a good egg. I could trust you
I'll get your remote back, Tipsy.
How?
I haven't figured it out yet, but you'll go back home.
That's my promise.
What are you goggling at?
You.
Aliens don't drop by everyday.
Everyone on your planet has stick-out ears?
Yup, ditto.
And they roam around naked? Isn't it weird?
That crow is naked - does he look weird?
If he dons a tie, he'd look weird.
Tipsy, I was awake all night...
thinking how to get your remote back.
Hello.
Connect to Balbir Singh. Room No. 4.
Wrong number.
Isn't this Fortis Hospital?
Since yesterday you've been dialing this wrong number.
Impossible! I can't be wrong every time!
So how do we get the remote?
Connect to Balbir Singh. Room No. 4.
Sorry, Sir. You've called too late.
Balbir died this morning.
Huh! How can a piles surgery be fatal?
Embarrassing, but don't worry.
Death Certificate will say heart attack
so the family saves face.
- Come for the body. - On my way.
Ok, bye.
Why did you say that?
Doling out joy.
When he finds his friend alive, imagine his joy!
What!
I was sick of his calls. So I played a prank.
- A prank? - Tipsy, I was just kidding!
I got it!
Someone is playing pranks.
When His Holiness dials God,
cocking his head, 'God, enlighten me',
his calls are going to a Wrong Number.
Someone out there plays pranks.
The real God won't call my remote a bead.
Looks like the phone lines to God have gone kaput.
All calls to God are going to a Wrong Number!
As in?
Think - would the real God give such weird solutions?
Like - come rolling to me, then I'll help you!
Aren't we God's children?
Would a father make his kids roll for help?
Your Dad ever said - kiddo, want a new dress? Start rolling!
Another prank - bathe me with cow's milk! What bull!
And if these calls went to the real God, what would He say?
He'd say - millions of my children are starving on streets.
Give them milk. Don't give me a lactose shower
I'm sure someone's playing pranks, like you just did.
Tipsy thought His Holiness was a victim of pranks.
I didn't clear his confusion
for a crazy idea was forming in my head.
An idea that would get back Tipsy's remote.
Who's this Tipsy?
That's a mystery.
But the way he sees this world is unique.
- As in? - If he saw you smoking,
he'd call the cops to say you're attempting suicide.
Why?
The pack says 'Smoking Kills' yet you puff away.
So what's the big idea?
Face-off.
Between Tipsy and His Holiness.
We'll take the face-off to TV.
Ratings will go through the roof!
I have three trident marks on my right bum.
You want three more on my left for balance?
Don't worry.
Tipsy won't fight His Holiness but gently explain, that...
his calls to God are going to a Wrong Number.
His Holiness will be stumped.
Cherry!
Tipsy's here. Just meet him once
I bet his queries will baffle you.
Trust me. Please!
Excuse me, you dropped this.
Oh, thank you.
That's not mine.
Kamasutra condoms, strawberry flavor
I hate strawberries, man. Ask these guys.
It's not mine. Buzzed bozo!
- Ma'am, yours? - How dare you!
- Check your purse if it's missing. - Shameless lad!
- Has to be yours. - No, not mine.
Tipsy, it's his.
Ask him all you want to know about it. Come on in.
What's this?
It's a condom.
- What does it do? - Controls the world's population.
How?
It has to be worn while having sex.
How does your wearing it control the world's population?
Not just me... millions wear it.
They all borrow it from you?
No. Everyone has it.
- I've a question. - Go on Tipsy, shoot.
If money is dropped, all run for it.
If a condom is dropped, all run away from it. Why?
Sex is a very private matter.
Why?
You don't tell the whole town - I'm having sex today.
But, then at weddings, with fireworks and music bands
why do they tell the whole town - I'm having sex today?
What's the matter?
I have no answer for you but I have a job for you.
Thank you!
Let's beat it before he changes his mind.
Shield your holy bum, Your Holiness.
My trident is on its way.
At this place His Holiness connects his devotees to God
for solutions to their woes.
Listen carefully to his calls.
If you think the calls are going to a Wrong Number, alert him.
- Will that get me my remote? - Once he realises...
the bead story is a prank he'll return your remote.
Good plan. Let's go.
To build a home for someone is a holy deed.
To build a home for God is the holiest deed.
So donate for the temple.
And see your woes flee.
Son, voice your woe.
Your Holiness,
my wife's been paralyzed for six months.
The doctors have given up. What shall I...
God.
Enlighten me.
Yes...
What place?
What transport?
Your wish is our command.
Have you heard of the Rathong glacier?
No.
It's in the Himalayas. Take a train to Silliguri
then a bus to Gangtok
then an eight day trek.
You'll reach a grand temple.
Pray there, your problem will be solved.
Wrong Number! This is a Wrong Number!
- What? - Wrong Number.
Your Holiness, your phone line to God has gone kaput.
Your calls are going to a Wrong Number
and a fake God is playing pranks.
What are you trying to say?
I'll explain. Aren't we God's children?
Yes, so?
Say your kid's in a jam and comes to you.
Will you help promptly, or will you say
kiddo, I've another house 2,000 miles away.
Come there, tell me the same problem again.
Then I'll solve it. What bull!
If the call went to real God, He'd Son, tend to your ailing wife,
don't run after me
after death you'll come to me anyway
give her your time now. Right?
I can prove it's a prank.
Call this fake God again and ask.
What's the guarantee she will get well.
Sir, till you get it in writing, don't leave her side.
Just call, and clear all doubt.
It's time for His Holiness' holy silence.
Praise be to God Glory be to God.
This fake God is passing off my property as a holy bead.
He's playing a prank.
He is no God. He is a fraud.
He is a FRAUD
God doesn't talk to us mortals.
He communicates through His managers.
- Tipsy has raised a big question. - What?
Is God really talking to the managers?
No.
So where do the commands for us come from?
- From a Wrong Number! - So what should the public do?
Till phone lines are fixed, don't depend on God's managers.
Help each other in difficult times.
A great tip from Tipsy: Don't rely on God's managers.
Rely on each other.
Hail Lord Shiva.
Tipsy says don't make the temple, the bead belongs to him.
What's in your pocket?
- Do you smoke? - Yes.
- You consume alcohol? - Occasionally.
You smoke cigarettes, consume alcohol
despite knowing their fatal effects.
Governments permit these poisons,
factories manufacture them, stores sell them.
Nobody questions this.
But in this sacred land of Lord Ram and Krishna
if I wish to build a temple
why these questions?
Why not question the man who is trying to stall this temple?
Who's this Tipsy?
What's his real name?
Why's he hiding it? Is he a Muslim?
If question you must, go ask Tipsy
what is his religion?
Find out his religion, Find out his faith.
Centuries ago, Mohammad of Ghazni
came and destroyed our temples.
Today another invader wants to repeat history.
But we won't allow...
Your God asks my religion. Let's ask Him...
the religions of these people.
- What nonsense? - Call up your God!
Why bother God? I'll tell you.
This one is a Hindu. He's a Christian...
Sikh, Jain and...
that one is of your religion.
Enlighten him.
Hello. I'm Sikh.
Greetings. I'm Muslim
I'm Jain.
Hi, I'm Christian.
Hello! I'm Hindu.
Bamboozled!
I swapped their robes. Get it?
Faith is connected to fashion.
Want a demo? Check the math.
Beard + moustache + turban = Sikh.
Minus turban = Hindu.
Minus moustache = Muslim!
This difference is made by the fake God.
If real God wanted it, He'd put a label on us.
- Is there a label on your body? - Mine?
Don't gape, strip and check!
Why be coy?
Strip everyone, show His Holiness. Is there any label?
Cut the coyness. OK, I'll go first.
See the bare facts.
Is there a label?
Nothing! You see!
Check some more...
Remove this ruffian.
Hey! I'm proving a point.
Start the chants!
Praise be to God Glory be to God.
That's no divine bead.
Jaggu!
Stop this farce!
Papa!
You were all of 40 days, when His Holiness christened you.
Remember, he who gives you a name, can ruin it too.
He named me Jagat Janani.
How can he ruin it further?
You! Name your price.
Papa!
Trying to scare His Holiness to extort money.
No, no.
You'll burn in Hell! Fear the wrath of God!
Thank you Papa! Thank you
I'd solved only half the puzzle. You pieced it together.
Fear is the key.
The prankster is cashing in on fear. Get it?
Not exactly, but can you explain to Papa?
You bet! I can prove it. Follow me
I don't have time for this nonsense.
If it turns out to be nonsense, I'll call off the show.
Exams are on at this college. The students are scared stiff.
Now, we'll establish our business - The Fear Factory.
Machine installed.
A little seed capital.
Now the inauguration.
Just watch! Capital doubles in 15 minutes.
Look there.
The first customer!
Tea... piping hot tea.
Check the investment of the tea vendor.
Kettle, tea, sugar, bike, thermos.
And here - a rock and a red mark.
Hot and piping tea...
There, you gotta woo the clients.
Here you shoo them away.
Hey, scram. Give others a chance.
There you bow before the customer.
Here the customer bows before you.
If he's in deep trouble, he goes horizontal.
The Wrong Number guy trades in fear.
He knows - those in dread to the temple head.
You too seem afraid! Off with these...
Do not question religion.
It's a matter of faith!
If God didn't want us to raise questions.
He wouldn't give us the power to reason.
Guardians of religion use violence when they can't answer us.
They scare us into silence. But now we won't be silent.
So far one Tipsy raised questions. Now there'll be a thousand.
Friends, pick up your phones.
When you spot a Wrong Number, shoot it and send it to us.
We'll put it on TV.
Dump your fear, ask questions.
Holy Sir!
One question.
If you can conjure gold from thin air
why don't you end the nation's poverty?
Answer please.
Holy Sir!
Since you're a walking gold mine, why ask us for donations?
God is great!
This is a Wrong Number.
- Jaggu... come with me. - Cherry give me a moment.
Come with me.
The Wrong Number idea is a national rage.
- What! - It's spread like wild fire.
Guru says - to land a job, feed a cow.
Is this cow an employment agent?
Or posts CVs on Monster.com? Wrong Number.
Watch this one!
He says, convert to Christianity, or be damned.
If God wanted, I'd be Christian by birth.
Why convert now? Wrong Number.
These girls want to go to school.
A new dictat says: Kill them if they do.
Is God so small, He'll deny children knowledge?
Wrong Number.
What God has destined for you will happen.
He has a master plan for the Universe.
Accept it.
Your disciples say: To get a male child,
buy this book, and chant the mantras.
So buy a Rs 10 book
and bust God's master plan!
Tipsy! Your show's a hit! Messages are pouring in.
Here's one more.
What happened?
It's Papa. He's ashamed I'm his daughter
I was in tenth grade
when I wrote my first poem.
For Papa.
They say my Mom I resemble. I say possible,
but I'm my Daddy's girl
I recited it on the Annual Day.
All parents clapped
but one whistled with joy.
The applause ended, the whistling continued.
It was Papa.
He was so proud of me.
And now this message. Ashamed of you.
There's a Wrong Number in your Papa's head.
The day he gets rid of it, he'll whistle for you again.
It won't happen.
Don't be sad. Come with me.
On my planet when people are sad, know what they do?
What?
Recharge the battery!
- What! - Just copy me.
What are we doing?
Shut your eyes!
How do I copy then?
Right. Keep them open.
To steal glances at you all day.
To strain for every word you say.
To put every chore aside.
And follow your every stride.
That's nothing but a waste of time.
Love is a waste of time.
Amore is nothing more.
Love is a waste of time.
But my mind and heart insist.
Once in this life at least.
I must waste my time.
Without reason or rhyme.
I want to waste my time.
I love this waste of time.
A zillion peeps into the mirror.
A million times I've styled my hair.
Countless sets of clothes I've tried.
Emptied perfume bottles with flair.
Dressing up is all I did Did nothing else worthwhile.
Now I understand.
That love is waste of time.
But my mind and heart insist.
Once in this life at least.
I must waste my time.
Without reason or rhyme.
I want to waste my time.
I love this waste of time.
My world has topsy-turvy turned.
I know not how to tell you.
I smile without rhyme or reason.
What's happening I have no clue.
The mind just wants to soar And from rooftops yell.
Now I understand Love is a waste of time.
But my mind and heart insist.
Once in this life at least.
I must waste my time.
Without reason or rhyme.
I want to waste my time.
I love this waste of time.
The donation box is getting more questions than cash.
Your relics don't sell anymore.
Millions of abuses on Facebook and Twitter.
- Just five? - Those are in support.
The abuses are in here.
It's time for action, Sir. Avoiding the issue can be disastrous.
God.
Call Cherry Bajwa.
Tipsy has asked many questions. I'll ask him just one.
- Hey Jaggu. - What happened?
His Holiness wants to come on the show. To debate with Tipsy.
- Tipsy'll rip him! - It'll be a mother of a show!
Get Tipsy ready. Put the promos out.
'The Final Question' Sunday 6:00 pm.
Don't miss, 'The Final Question' Sunday 6:00 pm.
My pal's become a star! Hey look, he's a rock star.
Rock star was roaming butt naked
I made him a star. The bloke's on TV
and me - in this shanty town, this crappy shack
guzzling booze with a jackass like you.
Star my foot!
Tipsy, some Bhairon Singh for you.
Bhairon!
Take that line.
- Bro! - You lusty lad.
You're a rock star!
Bro, where are you?
In Mandawa. Coming to Delhi tomorrow.
With a gift for you
I've nabbed the thief who stole your stuff.
He sold it for 40 grand.
- Guess to whom. - Whom?
His Holiness!
God said: It's a divine bead from Lord Shiva's necklace. Take it...
.. and enshrine it in a grand temple. Sighting this bead...
Hey,
what happened?
The thief who stole my remote is caught.
What! Really?
Bro said, the thief sold it to His Holiness.
Then His Holiness is finished!
We'll tell him - return the remote,
or the thief tells all on TV.
So he didn't find my remote in the Himalayas! He's lying.
Wrong Numbers are not floated by some fake God...
but by His Holiness.
You knew this Jaggu?
Remember the day you mentioned Wrong Number.
All his calls are going to a Wrong Number
I knew then you were on the wrong track. But I kept mum.
If you'd called him a fraud, people would have killed you.
People crave for the unique.
Wrong Number!
Your Wrong Number concept was unique.
Today the world supports you.
Tipsy, my plan worked! You're going home!
You'll fly away tomorrow, my friend.
Whoosh... gone.
We'll never meet again.
There will be such a void
I'll really miss you.
Shall I stay back?
How can you?
Simple, I have a job
I'll get some ID made and settle here
I'll find someone to 'waste time' with me
I'll marry her.
- Who'll marry you! - Why not?
Your wife will go nuts introducing you -
Meet my husband. He's Tipsy!
That's not my name!
- Tipsyyy! - I'll get a real name.
Why don't you suggest one? A name you love.
A man's name must match his personality.
Right!
So how is my personality?
I'll explain.
A poet once wrote...
Irony of mismatched names...
No poetry, please! I've something to say.
Who says 'What's in a name?'.
If you don't get the right one, what a pain.
Mr Burns is in fact so cool.
With violence alone Mr Peace does rule.
His name is Mr Fox But has no bushy tail.
"I love you Jaggu".
One whole ton is the weight of Mr Flower.
At his mere sight, the poor chair does cower.
Very nice... very nice.
Here's a bunch of cards with different names.
Pick the one you like.
Danduram Thatte?
- Disaster! - Next!
Tutari Singh?
Phooey!
Sarfaraz.
- Sarfaraz... - What happened?
Keep going, find a good name.
What's the matter?
Nothing.
"I love you Jaggu".
Brother!
God is in His Heaven We mortals on ground.
Nowadays He doesn't have Time to look around.
God is in His Heaven We mortals on ground.
Whatever may happen here He does not reprimand.
Thousand evils, million wrongs He does not take a stand.
Plundering is all around Bombs come to hound.
A terrorist outfit has claimed responsibility for the blast.
They say this was a mock drill.
Persecute our people, and real war will follow.
We shall protect our God.
Where are you going, Tipsy?
On the show.
You don't have to
I must. More than ever.
'The Final Question' Welcome to our special show
in which we meet Tipsy...
Wait a minute.
Bring it.
What is this?
God says: It's a divine bead from His necklace.
This man claims, it's his property
God says: Build a temple.
And this man opposes it.
Who do I listen to? God, or this gentleman
who used to hand out these blasphemous pamphlets?
First he claimed, God is missing.
Then said, God is a fraud.
Next he'll say, God is dead.
What do you want, son? A world without God?
Do you have any clue how people suffer?
No food to eat.
No place to live.
No friend to talk to.
People kill themselves. Slit their wrists, jump off buildings.
Why? Because they have no hope.
If bowing before God, smearing holy ash,
wearing amulets, gives them hope to live,
then who are you to snatch away that hope?
And if you snatch away their God, how will you fill that void?
This man rants about Wrong Numbers.
Today he must tell us: What is the Right Number?
You are right, Your Holiness.
There was a time I too had no food to eat.
No place to live
I cried a lot because I had no friend
I had only one hope then -
God.
Each day I hoped: Tomorrow will be better
God will find a solution
I agree belief in God gives hope,
the strength to face ordeals.
But I have one question.
Which God shall I believe in?
You say there is ONE God
I say no.
There are TWO Gods.
One who created us.
And the other whom you created.
We know nothing about the God who made us.
But the God YOU made up, is just like you.
Petty. Takes bribes, makes false promises.
Readily meets the rich, keeps the poor waiting.
Thrives on flattery. Makes you live in fear.
My Right Number is simple.
The God who created us all, believe in Him.
The God YOU created -
abolish him.
Yes!
You'll abolish my God and I'll keep quiet?
I know how to protect my God.
You will protect God?
You!
This is a puny planet.
Billions of bigger planets float in space.
And you, sitting in a tiny corner of this puny planet, have the nerve to say
you will protect Him, who created the Universe?
He doesn't need your protection. He can protect Himself.
Today someone tried to protect God and my friend died.
This is all that's left - his shoe.
Stop protecting God.
Or this planet will have no humans, only shoes.
A Muslim terrorist blows up a train
and a Hindu guru endures your sermon. That's nice.
What's this Hindu, Muslim? Show me the label.
You created these differences. Not God.
This is the deadliest Wrong Number of this planet.
It kills people, separates them.
Like your Wrong Number separated Jaggu from Sarfaraz.
- What Wrong Number? - That Sarfaraz will betray.
He did betray her.
- What's going on? - Hold it.
You say my prediction about Sarfaraz was wrong?
Exactly!
Then prove it - prove my prophecy wrong!
Failing that, fall at my feet and admit
that you are a liar. You tried to defame me.
What if I prove it?
Tipsy... don't!
Then this is yours
I accept.
Turn the cameras towards Jagat Janani
I hope you will answer my questions truthfully.
In Belgium you fell in love with a Pakistani boy.
True or false?
Please spare my personal life.
On Friday, at 3:21 pm I predicted this boy will betray you.
The next day you went to the Marriage Registrar's office
but he didn't show up.
True or false?
Yes, he didn't come. Please stop this.
Now will you come to my feet or do I walk my feet to you?
- Sarfaraz did not betray. - Please let it go!
No. Tell us what happened that day.
Please!
Just once, for my sake
I was at the Marriage Registrar's office and
a letter was brought to me.
Did Sarfaraz bring it?
No. He sent it through a kid.
- Was it signed? - No.
How do you know Sarfaraz sent it?
It could have been for some other girl.
There was another girl. With a cat, right?
She gave you the cat to hold for a while.
The kid who gave you the letter- did he know you?
- No! - Did you know him?
No.
Then how would he know the letter was for you?
Maybe he was told to give the letter to the girl with the cat.
You read the letter, but didn't call Sarfaraz.
Did you?
Because this man planted a Wrong Number - that Muslims betray.
Sarfaraz didn't betray you.
What's going on?
You expect us to believe these cat and bull stories?
One minute.
We'll get to the truth right now. Call Sarfaraz.
Hurry up!
This number does not exist.
Any other number? Friend, college, something?
- C'mon Jaggu! - Belgium University.
- Hello. - Hello!
I actually need to get in touch with one of your grad students.
Sarfaraz Yousuf.
Oh yeah. He left for Pakistan last year.
Has he left a number?
Sorry, we are not authorized to give out information.
This is really important.
E-mail us your request and I can forward it to Student Affairs.
Have a nice day dear.
His Pakistan number?
- Don't know. - Think, Jaggu darling
I work at the Pakistan Embassy.
His job - Pakistan Embassy, Belgium.
Mitu, call the Pakistan Embassy, Belgium.
- Copy sir. - Put it on the speakers.
Greetings. Pakistan Embassy.
Hello.
A student from Lahore worked with you.
- Sarfaraz Yousuf. - Is your name Jaggu?
Hello... is your name Jaggu?
How do you know?
She's called! The girl from Delhi has called.
Farah, it's Jaggu calling.
Mr Sayyed, hurry, it's Jaggu's call from India.
On the double everyone!
Sarfaraz Yousuf calls us from Lahore, every day at 9 am.
And with impeccable politeness asks just one question:
Was there a call for me from India - from Jaggu?
We say "No", and he disconnects.
He's driven us crazy.
Wait. I'll connect you to him.
Hello...
- Mr Sarfaraz Yousuf? - Yes, speaking.
- Where are you? - In Lahore. Why?
- Where are you right now? - At home. Why?
Is there a chair or a bench nearby?
Please sit down. You're about to get a jolt.
Pardon me?
You have a call from Delhi.
Please speak here.
Hello...
Sarfaraz...
Jaggu...
Hello...
hello Jaggu, what's the matter?
Had you come to the Marriage Registrar's office?
I had, but you had left.
Why didn't you call?
I got your letter. You'd said, 'Don't contact me'
I knew you were under family pressure.
But deep down I knew, one day you would contact me.
What took you so long?
I am sorry. I had your Wrong Number.
Just got the right number from a friend.
Thank you son.
Here, hold this.
Tipsy! You're taking batteries home?
- Don't get them there. - So many! For what?
Back home, I'll listen to the sounds I've recorded.
What sounds?
Earth sounds - crows, traffic honking.
Up there, you'll listen to cars honking?
Now and then - when I miss this planet.
Hey, wait! There's one more bag.
Forget it, Tipsy!
You kidding? It's stuffed with batteries.
Wait!
Driver... please stop!
Everyone on your planet has stick-out ears?
And they roam around naked?
Why are you staring? Something on my face?
I was in tenth grade, when I wrote my first poem,
for Papa.
They say my Mom I resemble. I say possible...
Poetry means sparse words, soaring thoughts.
Pal, you're really cute.
Here's to the teetotaler called Tipsy.
Who says "What's in a name?"
No tape had sounds of crows or traffic honking.
Every tape had just my voice.
"I love you Jaggu".
Got it!
He sure made me run!
Tipsy, what's in these tapes?
Told you - crows, traffic honking.
Every night, when your planet rises, I'll play these tapes.
And wave at you. Like this.
Will you wave back... now and then?
Haven't you recorded my voice?
Your voice?
I think I have... that one poem you recited.
One poem? That's it?
I'm not exactly in love with you...
to waste all my time over you!
He didn't look back. Not once.
He was hiding his tears.
One thing he learnt from us. One thing he taught us.
He learnt from us how to lie...
.. and taught us how to love.
He loved me enough to let me go.
He came here naked. As children do.
Asked a lot of questions. As children do.
And then one day...
he went away.
Four billion miles away.
He left me two parting gifts.
Sarfaraz
and Papa.
Till I live... every night I'll look at his planet and wave
I'm sure, he'll do the same
I miss him.
Fellow astronauts, prepare to land on Earth.
Remember the four Earth Survival Commandments.
Do not roam around naked.
Cuddling, making love etc. Must be done in closed rooms.
But fighting, making war etc. Is allowed in the open.
Beware of language, it's confusing.
If Earthlings say, 'I love chicken and fish, '
it doesn't mean they love animals,
but that animals are on the lunch menu.
The gap between thought and speech is our topic of research.
On landing, find dancing cars for clothes.
Hide your remotes deep in your underwear, safe from thieves
the mother commandment.
If anyone says: I'll connect you to God,
dump the research, take a U-turn and run for your life.
Come, don't be afraid.
What are you goggling at?
- I have a question. - What?
On your last visit, how often were you whacked?
- What's this? - Self-defense!
Safety gadgets?
- Let's go. - Not there! This way.
Kaput!