Forgive any grammar errors that there might be. This was put together in a couple of hours and is a by-product of boredom and monday morning blues. Nonetheless, if you like what you read (or even if you dont), please spread the word and share. And leave a comment with your thoughts.. Cheers

1. Unlike a lot of people who watched the movie, I quite enjoyed Ishaqzaade. However, like a lot of people
out there, I did feel a tad bit disappointed about two things – the portrayal of Zoya from the feisty go‐
getter in the first half to a meek, lost lover girl in the second half and secondly, the way the story ended.
I started thinking about if this were a story that I was to write, how would I do it? What follows is my
take on what could have been an alternate ending to the movie. All chapters are written from the
perspective of Parma, except the epilogue.
If you have not seen the original move, I would highly recommend you see it to understand some of the
nuances mentioned in this art.
The arc picks up from a specific part in the movie. – Surya Chauhan has just won the election and there
is a party at his haveli. Zoya Qureshi has come to the haveli to kill Parma Chauhan but is stopped by his
mother. His mother summons Parma to the room where she’s locked Zoya.
Disclaimer:
This is in no way an attempt to take away anything from the original movie. Like I mentioned in the
beginning, I was fairly happy with the movie and can be safely called a fan of it. Consider this a fan’s take
on the story. 

2. Chapter: Truth
PARMAA
I still couldn’t believe Amma could let Zoya into our house. Fortunately she had the good sense of tying
Zoya up and gagging her so that she couldn’t make any trouble. Zoya sat on Amma’s bed. Her white
pistol lay on the dressing cabinet. For a brief moment there, I was reminded of our shooting sessions at
the abandoned railway yard before our so called marriage.
“Let me kill her Amma. Let me drag her dead body into the party downstairs. Let us Chauhans celebrate
our political victory with the blood of a Qureshi.” I realized I was staring at Zoya as I said this. And she
was staring back at me. I couldn’t quite place the emotion in her eyes.
“Don’t be a fool. She is your wife” said Amma.
“It was a game, Amma! A game that made this victory possible. This Musalli will never be my wife” I was
starting to get restless. This was the second time Amma said it. I didn’t like it. I would rather be drinking
with the guys downstairs.
“You shouldn’t have played this game with her Parma. You shouldn’t have played this game”
I couldn’t believe Amma was saying this. “You have to be kidding, Amma. You really don’t understand
politics do you? If I hadn’t done what was needed, Dadu would have never won. You know that.
Everybody knows that. And look where we are today. Dadu is finally the MLA that Almore deserves. And
more importantly, I have managed to win his trust completely. Did you see how proud he was? He kept
introducing me to all his friends. He told them, ‘Meet the real Chauhan! Parma Chauhan!’ The real
Chauhan, Amma. Dadu is proud of me. Surya Chauhan is proud of me”
There was a long pause before Amma spoke again. “Surya Chauhan… Parma... you don’t know your
Dadu. He destroys lives for his politics. He has ruined lives of so many. He is a killer”
I couldn’t keep myself from laughing. “Amma. This is Almore. And we are the Chauhans of Almore. All of
us are killers. Don’t be so naïve” I got up to leave. I had to get back to the party. Chand baby would be
waiting for me. I will deal with the Musalli later.
Just as I reached for the door, Amma spoke again.
“Surya Chauhan killed your Baba”

3. Chapter: Baba
PARMA, 14 YEARS AGO.
I don’t remember much about Baba, except for that one day.
Whenever I try to think of Baba, I am reminded of the smell of newspapers and tulsi. I remember early
mornings, when I was a kid. I would get ready to leave for school and he would be hunched over the
day’s newspaper, a cup of tulsi tea in his hands, sitting in the veranda. While Dadu and my uncles
smelled of gunpowder and tobacco, Baba always smelled of newspapers and tulsi.
It was my 10th birthday. I was very excited. Birthdays meant new clothes, a party in the evening and the
thing I loved the most, a gift from Baba. I hurriedly got ready in the morning, wore my school uniform,
picked up the packet of chocolates that I would be distributing at school and walked up to Baba. I
touched his feet to seek his blessings. He immediately grabbed hold of me and gave me a tight hug.
Newspaper and tulsi.
“Happy birthday Parma” he smiled at me.
“Thank you Baba. My gift?” I said, holding out my hand.
He laughed, a whole hearted laugh, before digging into his kurta pockets. He brought out a small box
wrapped in red shiny paper. I grabbed the box from him and immediately tore it open. Inside the box was
a pendant. It was a silver pendant with 3 small diamonds on it. The pendant was shaped as the alphabet
‘P’. “P for Parma” I whispered as I held the gift.
“P for Parma” repeated Baba.
To be honest, I was a tad bit disappointed with the gift. I was expecting a video game. I think the
disappointment showed on my face, because Baba spoke the next words carefully.
“This is not an ordinary pendant Parma. I had this made with some very special material. You see those
three diamonds. They represent you, me and your Amma. It is to remind you that we are a family. We
will always be by each others’ sides, no matter what. Whenever you need that extra strength to do what
is right, just touch the pendant, and it will give you the courage. Always keep it close to your heart”
I nodded, smiled at Baba and kept the pendant in my pocket. I thanked him for the gift and gave him a
hug.
I said goodbye to him and told him I’d see after I come back from school. I didn’t.
I came home to the news that Baba had met with a car accident and died on the way to the hospital.

4. Chapter: Promises
PARMA
I was sitting on the floor with my head in my hands. I was trying to make sense of what Amma had just
said. Surya Chauhan killed Baba. Surya Chauhan killed my father. Dadu killed his own son.
“Why” I wanted to know. I needed to know.
Amma wiped her moist eyes with the end of her off‐white sari before she spoke “Your father was an
intelligent man. He was a forward thinking and honest man. But even above that, your father was a
good man. He had seen the wars between the Chauhans and the Qureshis from the time it began. While
his brothers thought about the next fight they could pick up with the Qureshis, your Baba was always
thinking about how this war could be put to an end and something worthwhile be done for the
development of Almore. He was above the politics of it all. His only interest was the betterment of the
people of Almore. For years he tried to talk to your Dadu, his father, about calling a truce with the
Qureshis. He, maybe naively, talked about the Chauhans and the Qureshis working together for the
people. As was expected, your Dadu was furious at these suggestions. At one point, he threatened to
disown your Baba and drive all three of us out of Almore. This is when your Baba started making plans of
moving out and doing something on his own. He transferred this house’s titles to me and set up a
separate bank account for us. He always said that if something were to happen to him, we would have a
roof over our head and money to meet our needs. A few years passed by and all the while, your Baba
was constantly disappointed with his inability to do something for the city. One day, he finally decided
that he would go and talk to the Qureshis about joining their party. The Qureshis had been in power for
2 terms then and your Baba always considered them more educated and capable of ruling the city than
the Chauhans. Sure, he still hated their lawlessness, but he was of the opinion he could manage to
convince the Qureshis to look beyond political bloodlust. It was your 10th birthday and under the pretext
of planning a party, your Baba went to meet the Qureshis. What happened at the meeting is not
completely known. But somehow someone in the Chauhan clan got news about your Baba’s meeting
with the Qureshis. I was working in the kitchen when I overheard one of the party workers talking to
your Dadu. The worker agitatedly explained how he had come to know that your Baba was colluding
with the Quereshis and planning to join them. When he finished, your Dadu’s instructions to him were
clear ‘Kill him. I don’t want to see him again’. When I screamed, a couple of his goons came and took me
outside to your Dadu. He said to me ‘Your husband is going to die. He will not come home today. If you
say a word about this to anyone, I will ensure the same happens to your son’”
I was in an uncomfortable daze and felt sick. I didn’t know if it was because of all the alcohol from the
party or because of what Amma said. It all made sense now. Why Amma lived in this house, separated
from the rest of the Chauhan haveli. Why there was always a hint of hatred whenever Dadu and Amma’s
paths crossed. Why Dadu always treated me as an outsider, until today.
I looked around. Amma had stopped talking. She wasn’t crying either. She just sat there and stared into
space. My eyes met Zoya’s. She sat there, as if bored. I hated her even more.

5. Chapter: Love
PARMA, 3 MONTHS LATER.
I woke up to the sounds of Zoya’s bangles. She had just finished her morning namaz. She looked at me
and smiled, “Good morning sleepyhead”
****
The day after I got to know the truth about Surya Chauhan I had fled from the house with Zoya. The
Qureshi gang had come to our haveli the previous night, demanding Zoya. They were met by Dadu and
our gang of gun wielding Chauhans at the gate.
Hearing her father’s voice, Zoya started screaming through the dupatta gagging her. Amma tried to
quiet her while I held her down.
Dadu told Aftab Qureshi that Zoya was not with them and took a swing about the Qureshis not being
able to keep check on their women. Aftab Qureshi was furious and said “That is why I want to find her. I
will make an example out of her and behead her myself in the town centre. She will be buried in a pile of
garbage and I will ensure no one mentions her name ever again”
I felt Zoya go numb. She stopped kicking and screaming. She had heard what her father had said.
The Qureshis left soon after and Amma opened Zoya’s restraints. Zoya continued to lie on the ground.
Amma took her head and placed it in her lap. And they both started crying.
Amma looked at me and said “Promise me you will not let Surya Chauhan get away this time. If you love
me, promise me you will take care of her. Promise me you will right the wrong you did to her”
My hatred for Surya Chauhan ensured I didn’t need to think twice before replying “I promise, Amma. I
promise”
Next day morning, Amma packed a few clothes and some of her jewelry into our bags and let us out
through the back door of the house. Zoya was still quiet, but she didn’t resist. I hugged Amma and told
her we would get in touch with her once things cool down. With that Zoya and I headed out. Just as we
got out, a couple of party workers caught our glimpse and raised an alarm. Gun fire and chase followed.
I caught a stray bullet between my arm and side of my chest. The bullet had grazed past but I was losing
blood quickly. We somehow managed to throw our pursuers off track and landed at Chand baby’s bar. I
had lost a good amount of blood by this time and no sooner had we crossed the threshold of Qwality
Bar, I lost consciousness.

6. I woke up the next day. I was in a room which looked very familiar. I looked around groggily and saw
Zoya and Chand in the midst of an animated conversation. My stirring caught their eyes and both of
them immediately came over to my bedside.
Chand was the first one to speak “Aww my poor baby” she said with a smirk “Are you in pain? Well, it’s
not like I can do anything about it now that you have a wife” She gave a playful slap on Zoya’s arm and I
noticed Zoya smiling slightly. Chand spoke again, “Don’t worry sweetie. You are in my room. I am sure
you remember it well.” I did. I have spent countless nights here. “You both are safe here. Stay for as long
as you would like. No one will bother you here”
With that she got up to leave. Before she got out the door she turned to me and said “You are lucky to
have her, you know. Zoya. She is the one who convinced me to keep you guys here and took care of your
wounds”
****
I had started falling for Zoya in these 3 months. After that night where she heard her father talk about
killing her himself, she gave up all hopes of going back home. I didn’t have a home to go back to either.
The fact that I took a bullet trying to save her seemed to bode well with her. Slowly, maybe even slightly
reluctantly, she began talking to me. At first it was mostly about asking me to eat food and checking if I
needed anything. Gradually we started talking about other things. I asked her about her fascination with
her dad’s vest, she asked me about the ‘P’ pendant that I always wear. We compared our guns and she
told me how she had sold her earrings to buy her white pistol. We even talked about the fights we used
to have as kids. But we never brought up what happened between us before. It was some sort of an
unspoken agreement that we would not talk about it.
There were a few times when either the Qureshi or the Chauhan gang members barged into Qwality
Bar and created a ruckus about wanting to find us. We would hide in a broken cupboard till the goons
left. This happened about 5 times in 3 months. Fortunately Chand was able to hold them back every
time and keep us safe.
Then one day, just as Zoya was coming back from her morning bath, I took her to the terrace and finally
mustered up enough courage to say what I have been meaning to since a long time.
“Zoya. I know you might never be able to forgive me for what I did to you. And I would be selfish to even
expect forgiveness. But I want you to know that I will always be here for you. Not because of the
promise I made to Amma. But because I truly care for you. I will protect you till the day I die and not let
anyone put a finger on you. I just want you to let me do it. Let me be there for you” I didn’t know how it
happened, but I had tears in my eyes by the time I finished.
Zoya stood there in front of me. For a long time she didn’t say anything. I thought she would probably
walk away and not talk to me for a few days. But then she smiled. She moved closer to me and put her
arms around me. With one hand, she wiped the tears off my eyes, laughed and said “Ok”

7.
I hugged her tight and smelled her hair. Tulsi.
“I am sorry Zoya. I am really sorry. I love you”
“I love you too Parma”

8. Chapter: Diwali
PARMA
Zoya and I were back at the abandoned railway yard where I had tricked her to marry me all those
months ago. But this time, it was all real.
It was Diwali and Zoya had suggested that we meet Amma and seek her blessing today. With so many
people hunting for us, it was impossible for us to go back to the Chauhan haveli. So I called Amma and
told her to come here.
It was good to see her after so long. She had brought some food and a box of sweets. We sat in the
abandoned yard’s workshop and ate the Diwali feast and talked. Amma was genuinely happy to see
Zoya and me together. And I was happy to see Amma happy.
We finished our lunch and Zoya volunteered to throw away the leftovers. She got up, picked things up,
threw them into a big drum outside the workshop and walked back in. As she did, she said “You know
Amma. This is the exact same place where Parma married me”
When Amma’s smile started fading, Zoya quickly added “No, no. I don’t mean to bring up those horrible
things. I just though it was weird that we were here again. In such different circumstances”
“Don’t worry” she said “I am over those pains”
I looked at her and smiled. She smiled back.
“You know Amma. If anything, that experience taught me two very important lessons for life. Can you
guess what they were?”
Before I could even make sense of what was happening, Zoya brought out the white pistol from her bag
and put it to Amma’s head.
I instinctively reached for my own pistol and pointed it at Zoya.
She looked at me, still smiling.
“The first lesson, Amma, is to always think two steps ahead of your enemy” She held out her other hand.
I felt myself going numb. In her hand were bullets. My pistol was empty.
I felt my pistol drop from my hands. I knew what was coming.
Zoya kept talking “The second, and the most important lesson, Amma..”

9.
I looked into Amma’s eyes. All I saw was pain. I couldn’t look at Zoya, but I heard her voice clearly.
“..is that if you want to truly hurt someone, take away the thing they value the most”
I felt time slow down. I saw the bullet leave the barrel of Zoya’s gun as she pulled the trigger. I saw it
enter Amma’s head, right above the ear. And I saw Amma fall to her side.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream. I just kept sitting there. I felt the still hot barrel of a gun pointed at
my head.
Zoya looked right into my eyes. I saw tears in her eyes.
“You shouldn’t have played this game Parma”
I closed my eyes and welcomed death.

10. Epilogue
ZOYA, 25 YEARS LATER.
I am in Mirzapur, waiting backstage for the party worker to call me on to the stage. The people of the
state have voted for the Qureshis and put me in power for a second straight term. I have to thank the
people for their support. But I am anxious about having to face them.
***
After I killed Parma Chauhan and his mother, my father welcomed me back with open arms. As far as he
was concerned, I had done what no other Qureshi had managed to do in so many years ‐ kill not one,
but two Chauhans. In a place where bloodlust is an everyday affair, Almore soon forgot about the
Chauhan killings and my marriage to Parma. The Chauhans didn’t bother to seek revenge. They would
have anyway done the same thing had they got their hands on Parma.
For the first few years, I worked in the background, building Abbu’s political strategy and strengthening
his stand in the state. With tactful and consistent efforts, we ensured that Abbu won the next election
and was back in power. Surya Chauhan blamed his loss on his grandsons and drowned his sorrows in
alcohol. Old age and liver failure ensured Surya Chauhan died a year later. The Chauhan grandsons
entered into a long in‐fighting to assume power of the Chauhan dynasty. This lack of unity ensured the
Chauhans would never be much of a competition to the Qureshis in future elections.
For 10 years, Abbu ruled the land before his health got the best of him. A stroke left him partly
paralyzed and unable to talk. He could no longer represent the party as a leader and the onus was
passed on to me.
***
I still wear Abbu’s old vests. The smiley badge is gone though.
After so many years of being in the public eye and delivering thousands of speeches, I still get a little
nervous about getting on the stage. The party worker is almost done with his speech. He will call my
name any moment now.
My hands instinctively move to the piece of metal near my chest. Hidden away from the public eye.
Over the material of my kurta I stroke the pendant. Whenever I need that extra strength to do what is
right, I touch the pendant and it gives me the courage. I walk on to the stage to a roaring applause.
For the past 25 years, the pendant has been close to my heart. The pendant shaped as the alphabet ‘P’
P for Parma
The end.