I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, love you directly without problems or pride” — Pablo Neruda
Just like Neruda’s proclamation for his beloved, there is a song that my generation and I have loved, used almost as an anthem, used to profess our love — be it for our significant others or for our city, yet very few of us might actually remember where we heard it first. At least I don’t.Tomaye dilam aaj was part of the collaborative album, Jhora Somoyer Gaan produced by Moheener Ghoraguli, and released by Asha Audio. The song was performed by Gorer Maath, composed by Subrata Ghosh, written by Joyjit Lahiri. This bit of musical history is known to almost every Bengali who grew up in the 1990s, because of the immense popularity the song received and because of the deep impact the song had on our lives. Mostly, because of how much we could relate to the song while growing up in the rapidly changing Calcutta of the 1990s.
I must confess, however, that I didn’t become a fan of the song immediately. But eventually, it got to me. Little did I know then that the song would not only become a permanent fixture on my playlist but also shape my life in so many wonderful ways. I finally saw my city vividly, not through my eyes, but through the words and sounds of the song. I couldn’t even have imagined back then, that one day there would be a film made on our city, about love, about friendship, about the days of our lives, or that I would be privileged enough to be a part of it and have the direction of my life altered so beautifully and so swiftly by a few simple words, Shohorer Ushnotomo Dine.
On one of the hottest days of May last year, Sujoyda (Sujoy Prasad Chatterjee) called me in to audition for a Bengali film, aptly called Shohorer Ushnotomo Dine. I’d be lying if I told you that the title instantly took me on a walk down memory lane, that would happen much later, but it did resonate with me, it did remind me of the song that was still on my playlist. The song that was still a big part of my life.
I performed the couple of scenes I was given and left. At this point in my life, I have stopped praying to bag a role after auditioning for it. It never works unless it’s meant to be. Rather, being able to keep that distance and not harbouring expectations helps one handle the rejection that often comes our way. This time, however, I couldn’t keep that distance. I loved whatever I heard of the story and the character Sayak. I loved that it was a completely young team. I loved that it was going to be a film about love and friendships, I personally love coming-of-age films and feel disappointed at how rarely the genre is explored in Bengali cinema. Most importantly, I have been born and brought up in Calcutta. I am one of those people who crib about the city all the time, yet get homesick away from her very easily.
We hate how the city is not changing as rapidly as other metropolitan cities, yet we want her to remain just the same. Shohorer Ushnotomo Dine is a movie about our city and I really, really wanted to be a part of it. Somehow the stars aligned and I was selected to play Sayak. Subsequently, I was handed my copy of the script. I read it and fell in love with it instantly. Aritra (Sen) had written my story, his story, our story. Along with Anupriya, Soumyosree and Aritra Sengupta, he had created a script that is so real, that it felt like I was reading incidents from my life and the lives of my friends. The story of Anindita, Ritoban, Rehan, Christine and Sayak resonated unanimously with the young cast and crew. Workshops followed. From Aritra’s perspective, it was imperative that the relationships seem absolutely authentic, the friendships could not be faked.
Soon, we were introduced to the soundtrack created by Nabarun. The songs felt magical and right from when were shooting, became anthems for us. In an age where thrillers, detective stories, gimmicks and formulaic content rules the roost, we worked towards creating a sweet tale of love and friendships with absolute honesty, belief and conviction under the leadership of our director Aritra Sen. It’s ironic, a generation that had been raised on iconic romantic films, a generation who swore by films like Dil Chahta Hai or even Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, had now forgotten how to tell tales of love and friendship.
Aritra intended to change that and we were more than happy to be his tools. I write this today after having spent the last three days — three days since the film released, answering a flood of messages from people of all ages telling me how much they loved the film, how much they identified with the characters and their struggles.
We went for several meet and greets at the theatres playing our film, as expected, fans went hysteric on seeing their favourite Vikram and Solanki together, but there was a lot more than just that fanfare. We walked into an auditorium while the end credits were rolling. Ideally, we should have seen people leaving the theatres. Instead we found them still seated, stunned, moved. Not even our presence could break their trance.
At yet another meet and greet, we met audience members who broke into tears as they tried to explain how and why they could relate to the film. We met audience members who hooted and whistled as our cinematographer Basudebda was introduced. We were met by the sight of people jumping over seats just to get a little closer to us.
Personally, Sayak will always remain special to me and I will forever be indebted to Aritra for trusting me with his creation. A tale about Calcutta cannot be complete without mentioning the arts of the city. Sayak, a musician in the film, epitomises the present state of our arts. The talent exists, the passion is unending, but his refusal to sell out or bow down to mediocrity has left him battered, bruised and short of options.
I found myself in Sayak, I know a lot of artists will. Similarly, I believe Vikram found himself in Ritoban, Solanki found herself in Ani, Rahul is Rehan and Anamika found herself in Christine. While over the past few days, we have received a lot of praise as actors, acting is perhaps the one thing we did the least. It just goes on to show that even in an era dominated by gimmicks, with everyone trying to find the next formula for a hit, when a director creates a personal film, crafted with love and self-reflection, tells stories of ordinary people and their struggles instead of staging extraordinary characters, the audience finds their way to the auditoriums, they leave having found themselves.
In this case, hopefully, with a newfound love for our city. After all, Shohorer Ushnotomo Dine isn’t just about the literal heatwaves that our city struggles against, it’s about her people, her love for values that most other places on the planet have abandoned, it’s about the warmth that we cannot leave, or if we do, we keep coming back to.