3Idiots - 3 Flashcards
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O Lord, have mercy.
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Today was Results day. Time to make a deal with God.
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Just save my Electronics. I’ll offer a coconut.
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Sir Snake, bless my Physics. I promise a pint of milk per day.
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O Mother Cow, help me pass… have this grass.
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I vow: No X-rated thoughts of girls in my class…
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Watch over my results.
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God of Wealth, I’ll offer 100/- every month.
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100/- won’t bribe even a traffic cop,
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let alone the Almighty.
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Check from the bottom.
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You are… last.
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And you?
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Second last.
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Rancho?
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Not there.
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My heart sank.
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Not ‘cause our ranks tanked, but ‘cause our friend flunked.
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There’s a mistake. It’s not possible. It’s injustice.
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What’s Silencer howling about?
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He got the second rank.
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Who’s first?
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Rancho.
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Rancho?
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Move aside.
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We learned a lesson in Human Behavior:
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Your friend fails, you feel bad. Your friend tops, you feel worse.
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We were sad. Two others were sadder.
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Ranchoddas Chanchad. Front row. Right of the Director.
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Uday Sinha. Second row. Third seat.
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Alok Mittal. Second row. Fifth seat.
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Sahili Rao. Third row…
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Sir, why this seating according to rank?
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Any problem with that?
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Yes, this grading system is like a caste system.
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A-graders: Masters C-graders: Slaves
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- It’s not nice, sir. - You have a better idea?
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Yes. Results should not be displayed at all.
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Why publicise someone’s flaws?
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If your iron count is low, will the doctor prescribe tonic…
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or air your report on TV?
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You see, sir?
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So basically, what you are saying is…
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I should personally go to each student’s room
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and whisper in his ears…
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‘You have come first’, ‘You’re second”.
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‘Oh, I’m so sorry, you have failed’.
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No sir, I mean grades create a divide.
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I’ve topped, so I’m next to you.
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My pals came last, they’re in the back corner.
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At least they’re in the corner.
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More time with you, and they’ll be out of the photo.
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They will neither pass, nor get a job.
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They’ll get jobs, sir. There must be some firm that…
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prefers humans to machines.
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They’ll get jobs. I guarantee.
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You guarantee it!
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Bet, sir?
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NAME?
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Even if one of them gets a job in campus interviews…
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shave off my moustache.
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Sir!
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NAME?
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Happy, sir.
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Jackass! Honking to hide your tooting.
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Septic tank! Popping pills again?
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I didn’t do it… Raju?
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This is a familiar stink.
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He’s the sole cause for global warming.
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Toss me your wallet - I’ll buy pants.
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- Take Chatur’s suit instead. - Don’t touch my suit.
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Rancho’ll recognize you even in underwear.
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- Where’s this? - If I could read, would I sell peanuts?
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- He can’t read. - But he can speak.
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Wait. Do you know a Ranchoddas Chanchad?
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Yes, he lives there.
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? Free as the wind was he ?
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? Like a soaring kite was he ?
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? Where did he go… ?
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? let’s find him ?
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NAME?
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- In the pocket. - Hey, my pants!
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Karl Marx says to share all resources.
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Hey, you’ll give people ideas.
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I want it now!
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What happened?
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Rancho’s father.
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Excuse me, where is Ranchoddas?
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NAME?
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NAME?
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Sorry. We’re looking for Ranchoddas.
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I am Ranchoddas.
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No, I mean… ‘Ranchoddas Shamaldas Chanchad’.
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Ranchoddas Shamaldas Chanchad. That’s me.
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Ranchoddas, take care, son.
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‘Ranchoddas Chanchad’
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Raju
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I’ll be in the Guinness Book for driving Delhi-Shimla in underwear.
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That too, for the wrong guy!
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Same name, same degree, same photo, but a different guy.
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What’s going on?
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How did Silencer get Rancho’s address?
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Good point!
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Hey Chatur, come here.
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How dare you open this? I got this from San Francisco.
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Handmade biscuits.
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Specially for Mr. Phunsukh Wangdu.
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Phunsukh Bangdu? Who’s that?
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Not Bangdu. Wangdu. ‘W’. Phunsukh Wangdu.
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Do you know who that is? He’s a great scientist.
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400 patents. The world wants him.
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Took me a year to get an appointment.
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Once he signs the deal with my company, I’ll be huge!
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Forget Wangdu. How’d you get Rancho’s address?
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You should be thanking Phunsukh Wangdu.
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He led me to Rancho, see this.
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My secretary was here to fix an appointment with Wangdu.
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She didn’t get the appointment. But I found Rancho.
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I checked the Shimla directory and found Rancho’s name.
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What happened to his face?
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Plastic surgery in honor of your visit?
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Only one man has the answer.
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Sorry Papa, I couldn’t fulfill your last wish.
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You kept asking me to take you on pilgrimage.
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But I waited for the highway tender.
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There the tender opened, here you closed your eyes.
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I am so sorry, Papa. I could not be a good son…
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Wrong.
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You’re an engineer. Your degree’s on the wall!
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You were a very good son.
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How dare you barge in? I’ll have you arrested.
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No, you’ll be arrested. We’ve made enquiries.
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You use the degree to clinch contracts.
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It’s our friend’s degree. How did you get it?
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This is a 150 acre estate.
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If I shoot and bury you, no one would even notice.
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Get the point?
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Now get lost!
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I’m taking Papa’s ashes to the sacred river. Can take yours too.
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Grab Papa!
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Here, here.
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Let go of Papa!
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Tell the truth or Papa is flushed!
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- Hand over Papa! - Papa goes to the sacred sewer.
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NAME?
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I’ll count to three.
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Wanna shoot us? Raju, scatter the ashes.
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One.
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Take us down, and Papa’s down the drain.
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Two.
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Then grope for him in the gutter.
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What is it, Raju?
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We’ve got the wrong urn. It’s empty!
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Empty?
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Empty - we’ll empty it out!
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No, no!
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We’ll empty it out!
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No… hands up!
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Who are you?
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I am Rancho.
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I swear on Papa, it’s true.
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I am Rancho! That was Chhote.
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Chhote?
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He was our gardener’s son, Chhote.
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He stayed on with us after he was orphaned.
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Did odd jobs around the house, ran errands.
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He had a passion for learning.
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He’d wear my old uniform and slip into school.
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And attend any class he liked. It suited me.
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I made him do my homework, take my exams.
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It was going well, till one day…
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Our teacher saw a sixth grader doing tenth grade math.
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Which grade are you in, son?
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What’s your name?
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We got caught.
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Papa was a powerful man, so…
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our teacher alerted him before going to the Principal.
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You started it, you will finish it.
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People pretend to show me respect…
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But behind my back…
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mock me as an illiterate.
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I won’t let that happen to my son.
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This boy wants to study. I want just a degree.
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Let the game go on.
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Make this kid an engineer,
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and I’ll have a degree in my son’s name on that wall.
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I went to London for four years, he went to college as me.
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He’d promised to cut contact with all after getting the degree.
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But he always said: ‘Two idiots will come looking for me’
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He really misses you both.
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I’ll give you his address, go to him.
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But please keep my secret.
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What secret?
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You got the wrong urn, sir. Papa is in here.
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What the hell’s going on? Who was that gun guy?
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Complicated story. Without subtitles. Not for you.
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- Ignore it. - Where’re we going?
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Ladakh.
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Ladakh! Why?
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To meet Rancho.