Jaskirat's monologue after he finds out his Sasur is a spy

I never wanted to fall in love.

After what happened to my sisters, I don't think I even trusted the word anymore. I saw what men could do to women they claimed to respect. And when I neutralized the men who assaulted my sisters, I knew exactly what awaited me.

Capital punishment.

So when I was given another path, I took it.

Become someone else. Cross into Pakistan. Spy. Serve India. Survive.

Simple.

Then I met Yalina at that rally.

Young. Innocent. Spirited. Fearless in that ridiculous way that reminded me of who I had been before the case, before my sisters' nightmare became mine, before I learned how quickly an ordinary life could disappear.

And, of course, she fell for the worst possible man.

Me.

Except she didn't know the real me. She knew Hamza, the local goon. The identity I wore every morning like another layer of skin.

I warned her.

Think carefully, Yalina. You really want to love a man like this?

I practically handed her an exit.

She came closer.

I warned her again.

She stayed.

Eventually we married. Years passed. We built a home. We had a child.

Somewhere along the way, the fake life became terrifyingly real.

Every morning I woke beside a woman who loved Hamza, while knowing that one day she might discover that Hamza had never existed.

What would happen when she learned I was Indian?

What would she think when she discovered her husband was an undercover agent?

Would she remember every conversation and wonder which words had been real? Would she take our child and leave? Would she hate me?

For years I prepared myself for every possible outcome.

Every possible outcome except the one that actually happened.

Her father was a spy too.

Her.

Father.

Was.

A.

Spy.

I spent years thinking that this honey trap was my plan.

Apparently RAW says hi.

Looking back, I have only one question for the Government of India:

Since when did RAW become a marriage bureau?

You sent me across the border for national security. I infiltrated criminal networks. I lived under an assumed identity. I risked being exposed and killed.

And somehow in Pakistan I lived with a wife, a child, and an intelligence-officer father-in-law.

Was this in the mission briefing?

Did I miss a page?

Objective One: Protect the national interest.

Objective Two: Gather intelligence.

Objective Three: Shaadi.

I thought I was running an undercover operation.

Apparently, I was the undercover groom.

And the greatest intelligence failure of my entire career?

I spent years hiding from my wife...

without realizing espionage was already her family business.