The Ending Disclaimer of Movie Ikkis Is a Statement That’s Hard to Miss - The Movie's Final Punch

Ikkis takes us back to the Battle of Basantar during the 1971 India–Pakistan war, telling the story of Arun Khetarpal, a young Indian soldier who fought with extraordinary courage and laid down his life on the battlefield. The film is based on the journey of his father, Brigadier M.L. Khetarpal, who travels to Pakistan in 2001 for an alumni meet and is hosted by Pakistani Brigadier Khwaja Mohammad Naser. Naser, ironically, was the officer whose tank squadron confronted Arun in 1971 and whose final shell killed him and he opens up about his involvement with a lot of dignity.The film treats this meeting with remarkable honesty. It doesn’t demonise any side. Instead, it frames the war as a tragedy shaped by duty and orders. Brigadier Naser is shown

as a man who did what his country asked of him, just as Arun did. There’s a quiet, powerful moment of reconciliation there. A sort of an acknowledgment that soldiers, on both sides of the border are often instruments of decisions far bigger than them.More than once, Naser says, “We were just following orders.” And that’s true. But so was Arun. The difference? Arun was ordered to retreat and he didn’t. He chose to fight on, destroying as many enemy tanks as he could, fully aware of the cost. Naser, on the other hand, couldn’t have shown mercy to a burning enemy tank without risking the war turning against his own country. Both men acted within the logic of war. One followed orders and the other went beyond them.

For most of its runtime, Ikkis walks this delicate line with grace and then the credits roll. That’s when the film delivers its final punch, an ending disclaimer whose tone is impossible to ignore. Translated in English, the disclaimer states that Brigadier Naser’s humane behaviour was an exception, not the norm. It goes on to accuse Pakistan of repeated cruelty toward Indian soldiers and civilians, violations of the Geneva Convention and continued sponsorship of terrorism. It ends with a call for vigilance. Jai Hind.

In hindi, it reads - Pakistani Brigradier K M Nisar ka maanviya vyavhaar ek apvaad swaroop ghatna hi hai. Anya hamara padosi mulk bilkul bhi vishvasniya nahi hai. Pakistan ki senaao ne yudhkaal aur shaanti dono hi samay main hamare sainiko aur naagriko ke sath bohot hi kroor aur amaanveeya vyavhaar kiya hai. Unko yaatna dene main kayi baar Geneva Convention ka khulkar ullanghan kiya hai. Kisan dwaara praayojit aatankwaadi gatividhiyan ko dekhte hue ek jaagrook naagrik ke roop main hamein hamesha sachet aur tayaar rehne ki zarurat hai. Jai Hind.After nearly two hours of humanising the enemy soldier, the film abruptly reminds you: do not confuse individual decency with national intent. The timing of this disclaimer matters. We are still reeling from the Pahalgam attack, where civilians were killed after being asked about their religion. What followed was Operation Sindoor, India’s retaliatory strike aimed at dismantling terror infrastructure. And then came the fallout, diplomatic, cultural, symbolic. Even sport wasn’t untouched, with the Indian cricket team refusing to accept a trophy from Mohsin Naqvi, who isn’t just the ACC president but also Pakistan’s interior minister. In this context, Ikkis feels almost prophetic.The film could easily have been accused of 'balancing both sides', of softening the idea of the enemy and to be honest, for a while it does. It shows respect between soldiers, the shared weight of war and the truth that many men fight not out of hatred but obligation. But the disclaimer pulls the viewer back to reality.Pakistan, as a state, has historically used war and violence to claim what isn’t theirs. While India time and again has fought to protect its land. Importantly, history shows that India has never formally declared war first against Pakistan. Our military actions have largely been responses to invasions, infiltrations or acts of terror. And this is why this disclaimer exists.It’s not undoing the humanity shown in the film, it’s contextualising it. It’s reminding us that while individual soldiers can act with honour, state policy is a different beast altogether. Compassion on the battlefield does not erase patterns of aggression off it. Ikkis allows us to mourn a brave soldier, acknowledge the shared tragedy of war and still remain clear-eyed about the present. That final note may feel uncomfortable, even ironic but perhaps that discomfort is exactly the point. Some stories heal. Some warn. And sometimes, a film chooses to do both.