On 13^th December 1983, he saw the first instance of ‘Death’ in his life.

The eight years old me, who so far heard about this last truth of life, saw it beforehand, on 13th December, the day, I lost my grandpa.

Today, 28 years later, when I think about that day, I still wonder how it happened? The old man, who finished reading a fairy-tale story for me, moments before, went for the journey of no return. How?

Death

If I had to put my experience in words, I would say, I was shocked. I was shocked because, the man who was the only closest person I knew then; the man who was the only known companion to me, for playing in the field and believed to stay so forever; the only man then, to patiently listen to all my silly questions & complaints and then offer the solutions; turned into past within seconds.

I was sad, because the man, who made me fall in love with trains, boarded a train that will never stop at my station.

I was dumbfounded too. I was amazed to see, how the long vermilion line parting my grandma’s hair and corresponding big vermilion spot on her forehead, had gone forever. I was surprised to see how a person, who could not imagine her meal without a fish preparation, could give up eating all her favorite non-vegetarian cuisines overnight. I wondered how a woman could change her rich attires to plain white cloths suddenly, after her man deceased.

For eight years old, these questions had no answers. Neither had I anyone, like my grandpa, to answer my entire list of how’s'? However, this incidence set a fear in my heart, the month December comes only to take someone close to me.

This fear turned permanent, when 24 months later, on 9^th December, I lost my father. This time my shock was less but the feeling of loss was more. As I grew older, this fear of loss has grown along me.

With passing years, I saw, heard and experienced many deaths. I also know the scientific reasons behind deaths. However, the feeling of loss and experience of seeing someone die, for the first time in my life, still keeping me wondering… How? I strongly believe that the month of December, is the month to decease.

Nota Bene:
In 2009, as the month December was drawing to its end, I encountered death by myself. On that day, I survived a major car accident; the near death experience made me realize that the death is grey in color and sound proof. It was an experience of peace and tranquility, where no bodily feelings been felt.

My surveillance of that car accident developed a belief in my heart that when someone dies, he/she turns deaf, sees grey in eyes and experience no physical senses. It is a supernatural experience, which I had for brief of seconds, on that day.

I am waiting for that special December day, when I will experience it forever.

T

Does that sound very familiar to you? Many of us, on a rainy evening, just sit and retrospect about the things that have gone wrong in our lives, with the big question “Why?” Thoughts like – “Why was I stood up by my friend that day?” to “If only I had made the other choice, I would have been in a better state than I am today” lingers within us. Just like the obscurity outside, our inner-self engulfed in bleak thoughts of yester years. Moreover, it has happened to all of us at some point of time or other, on gloomy rain-soaked evening. The drama of our life has only three characters. It’s – them, the others and I. The struggle is always to decide which among these three is right; and that determines the life of ‘I’. The string that binds together these characters in life are the principles that each of them hold. Many of us spend chunk of our lives blaming ‘the others’. However, very few of us realize that life would not be the same without them. Their presence makes life a great teacher. They are the real providers of the experiences that enrich our life and make us grow as a human being. These experiences mould our ‘so-called’ principles that sometimes restrict our perspective and stop us from breathing freely. Moreover, the catalyst in all this, in all its majestic glory, is the omnipotent confusion. Sometimes, so easy to overcome… yet, at times, hard that this confusion becomes a habit, a part of our lives.

On that evening, I pushed myself more into bleakness as I delved deeper into these thoughts. Events came to me unannounced and uncalled for. I had many ‘the others’ in my life and confusion is like my constant companion. As I watched the drops of rain, I saw enlightenment.  A realization dawned upon me. Just like the drops that rush down and at the end of the window, eventually vanish, so we all will do. You, me… everyone. The drops seemed like us, rushing with our lives, every second of it, at the end of it, wither away someday or other. Life is short, why not like it. Why not value the presence of ‘the others’ and cherish the warmth of ‘them’ in our lives? Why not we just enjoy solving the puzzle that confusion throws upon us every time?

What a thought, I felt I am breathing, after a long time. Guess rains are not bad. I threw open that close window, just like my mind; I let the cool breeze touch my face. Through the pouring rain, I saw little stars in the sky, twinkling and feeling reborn.

I love to see movies; and when I see a good movie, I’m tempted to write about it. I don’t see myself as a film critic; so my statement in this note may not be in line with reviewing or critiquing the film. It’s just jotting down my opinions. 

When a director’s debut film won 41 awards, screened at 5 film festivals and enjoyed more than 100 box office days; the success is termed as ‘super hit’. This success not only increases the expectation from his second film, but also creates a monumental pressure on the director to raise his bench mark.

I’m sure, while making Baishe Srabon, director Srijit Mukherji, had undergone such a situation. In my opinion, he is quite successful in this attempt; and Baishey Srabon will be remembered as a cornerstone among contemporary Bengali cinema.

Human psychology is very interesting subject. Everyone on this earth has a darker side in their personality. To some, this is prominent and we termed them as criminals; and for most of us, this darkness is invisible. Srijit’s Baishe Srabon, tells one such story.

I won’t categorise Baishe Srabon, as just a thriller or a murder chasing police story. It’s beyond that, which can be a pioneer film for new genre in Bengali cinema. It dwells upon the darker side of human face, where loneliness and insanity is not defined. The characters are very real, who use slangs randomly without any hesitation, as we do in our privy lives; but their motives are insane.

I prefer not to disclose the story-line, while talking about a film, as I believe, the pleasure of a movie is always in watching it in a theatre. Because, cinema is a visual subject and it will remain so forever.

Baishe Srabon, in spite of being a Hollywood style movie, is purely a Bengali cinema. The reason being the subject is intertwined with poetry, which is very much Bengali thing. As people say, though jokingly, there isn’t a single Bengali, who hasn’t tried inking couplets. Poets and poetry is such a part of Bengali living that whenever we heard the name Rabindra Nath; we recall none other than Nobel laureate Rabindra Nath Tagore. In this film too, he played an important role, not only the film is named on Tagore’s death anniversary, but his name is brilliantly used to create suspense in the story. His poetry is used too, to define two deaths in the film.

This film has four killings and each killing is linked with a poetry by Sukumar Ray, Jibabanada Das, Binoy Majumdar & Shakti Chattopadhyay respectively. Interestingly, the last two poets were part of Hungry generation movement in 1960; which is an integral part of the film. Lonely poet Nibaran Chakraborty, brilliantly portrayed by Gautam Ghosh, who is a strong believer of Hungry generation movement, is the central character in the film.

One should see Baishe Srabon for Gautam Ghosh’s act and Prosenjit Chatterjee’s brilliant histrionics. Prosenjit Chatterjee, in recent years, has gifted us with few films, where his actor soul is larger than his heroic personality. If I have to summarize in a single line, this film is the best of Prosenjit Chatterjee, till date. He has minutely orchestrated his mannerism and methods, to get into his character, which demands a super applause. I want to mention one instance from the film, where he tries to pull himself up, while sitting in his couch sipping his whiskey and calling his domestic help ‘Kanai’. Whomsoever, already seen the film will correlated with it.

 Beside Gautam Ghosh and Prosenjit Chatterjee, there are two other male characters; Parambrata Chatterjee and Abir Chatterjee, and they are simply brilliant and honest to their roles. The role of Raima Sen is small but significant to complement Parambrata’s character.

In broader aspect, Baishe Srabon has three lead characters, but no one is independently a lead character. This is very interesting part of this film. Moreover, I have noticed an interesting pattern in Srijit’s films; our opinion built towards the lead character at the beginning of the film is shattered at the end of the film. It was there with Autograph’s  Shubhobroto Mitra and it is very much here in Baishe Srabon. This is beautifully defined by a line of a song from the film itself ‘sotti bole sotti kichu nei’ (there truly nothing call truth). This is definitely the signature style of Srijit’s film making.

Talking about the music and songs in the film, Anupam Roy’s lyrics and compositions are definitely appreciable. However, I felt few songs are forced in the story-line.

Before concluding I must mention the important contribution of DOP Soumik Haldar, whose cinematography and use of colour made Baishe Srabon, a visual delight. Editor Bodhaditya Banerjee’s superb editing kept the pace of story and made it interesting till the end title rolls. Ananda Addhya’s art direction and Indradeep Dasgupta’s haunting background scores, also need a special mention.

To comprehend, I will say, after seeing Srijit‘s Autograph, Baishe Srabon may seem lacking on something; which is obvious as both the films are distant by opposite poles in treatment and cannot be compared with each other. However, Baishe Srabon is a must see film for everyone, who wants to enjoy a good movie.

Srijit’s first film Autograph was based upon great Bengali director Satyajit Ray’s Nayak. His second film shares the name with another stalwart Bengali director Mrinal Sen’s 1960 film Baishey Shravana. Shall we expect Srijit’s third film will relate to the third fellow of the trio of new wave Bengali cinema, Ritwick Ghatak? Does the dialogue from Ghatak’s film Meghe Dhaka Tara; “Dada aami baNchte chai” on Abir Chatterjee’s lips signifies so?

We are waiting for the answer.

Disclaimer: The legal copyright of the images belongs to the copyright owners.

However, she has a horrid past, an incidence which changed her life forever. Parul carefully kept that secret under the carpet of her memories and leading her life now with success and pride.

–

It was rainy evening. For Parul it was one of those rare days when universe conspires to let the things go wrong for her. She was agitated with one of her subordinate who failed to meet the deadline; because she has to give her reports in her marketing meeting, next morning. After, scolding and threatening the poor fellow of dire consequences if he fails to complete the assignment next morning, by nine; she resorts to her favorite nerve reliever activity; she logged in to her Facebook page. There was nothing new on the page. It was the same junks on status message, tag in photographs which she hardly belongs to; the friend requests which she never approve and one personal message. She scrolls through her Facebook wall for sometimes then her attention was drawn to the message box. She clicked to open her Facebook message box. It’s a message from Tathagata Banerjee.

Parul’s first impulse was to immediately close the browser window, shut down her computer, leave her apartment and quietly move somewhere in the desert where there are no virtual means for people who have deeply hurt her, to invade her now fairly stable life.

Parul rush to the adjoining balcony to her bedroom. She stays at 15th floor and the rain-soaked city at night below now appearing magical, garlanded with shining electric bulbs. Parul is in no mood to enjoy this magic. That message from of Tathagata on Facebook, with the display picture of a tiger head, have disturbing her now. The episode from her past, which she had carefully buried long time back, suddenly appeared out of the blue and started haunting her now like a ghost. She took a cigarette out of her favorite Classic pack and lit up. She took a long puff and slowly leaves the smoke as a trailer of the events on that fateful day, play in front of her. She always hated to indulge in reminiscence of that day but Tathagata’s FB message compelled her to recall. “What shall I do?” Parul though, as continue with her smoking.

–

Parul clicked to open the message as she wanted to make sure, it is the same Tathagata, which she hate to see again. The message read:

‘Hi! Parul. This is Tathagata. Hope you remember me. We’re together at JTC. I tried to send you friend request on this Facebook but somehow, I couldn’t. Will you please revert to me with a request from your side? We will be in touch again.’

“Oh my God, it’s him.” Parul murmured then realized nobody is listening. She looks around and rushed to balcony again. She though she needs some fresh air. Why it happened? Why he wanted to befriend now on Facebook? Does he really know what friendship is? A lot of ‘Why’ and ‘How’ started revolving in her mind. She took her second cigarette and lit it to puff.

–

Parul wrote the reply to Tathagata’s message:

‘Hey! Yes I can recall you. How can I forget you? I have something, I need to ask you. Can you send me your email id or let me know some good place to email you?’

Parul, by now have decided to face the past. She needs to know few answers to get peace of her mind. Probably Tathagata is also online and eagerly waiting for Parul’s reply. She got his answer in a short span:

‘Hey Parul! Why email id? Feel free to call me anytime for any of your queries. My cell number is 9811331189. Add a zero before this number. ’

A sarcastic smile waved between Parul’s lips. She replied:

‘I think you remembered the things, I would ask you to clarify. And my guess is there are some admissions you don’t want in writing’

He relied:

‘  My schedule is pretty erratic now. Need to travel a lot. I’ll be going out of the town tomorrow morning and returning sometime on Sunday. No time to check personal emails. Moreover, I am looking forward to hearing your voice, and just wanted to let you know that I  didn’t want you to feel I was ignoring you. Hope to hear from you soon.’

Parul is expecting such a reply. How a male can put his ego off and accept he is guilty? She answered:

‘So, when should I call you? Tell me a time with your convenience.’

Tathagatha’s reply came immediately.

‘Tonight itself, any time after 10… I have no problem. No family so boozing and late night televisions. ’

“So, Tathagata is trying to be informal”, Parul thought. But she won’t be. She replied to Tathagata,

‘ok’

–

Sending a message on Facebook is one thing, but actually to call on phone and speak to Tathagata without the help of impersonal technological buffer of a computer is another thing. Parul felt uncomfortable by the fact that she has reconnected with Tathagata on Facebook, who is a monster in her memory. But she has had to call him. She needs to know the answer to the questions she always wanted to know. She grew hard in her outer shell but inside the shore is still paining. She dialed his number. The rings go, Tathagata didn’t responded. She dialed again.

–

Tathagata- Hello?

Parul- Parul here.

Tathagata- Hey Parul? How’re you? It’s a long time I heard your voice. I miss you so much.

Parul- Hmmm. It’s weird. How long has it been?

Tathagata- At least 12 – 13 years. I’ve followed your stuffs on Facebook. Your short poems are beautiful.

Parul- Hmmm.

Tathagata- I copied some of them to send as SMS to my colleagues.

Parul- Hmmm.

Tathagata- I recently copied this one… just a moment, let me read for you. (He tried to find the poem) Though it’s written by you only, so, you know this. Still, let me read it for you

So many times have I been given false hope?
And for once I want to have it be true.
To throw caution fully to the wind,
Only wanting to believe souly in you.

(A silence between them)

Tathagata- So, what are you doing now? Still writing love poems? (Smile)

Parul- Nope. I buried it years ago. No more love in life.

(A silence between them)

Tathagata- I’m sorry. Why don’t you forget that thing? It was a mistake we did and now let’s forget that.

Parul- It’s easy to say than done, Tatha. I tried my best to forget, but, it’s still haunting me.

Tathagata- Parul! Please! I’m sorry for whatever happened that day. Please pardon me.

Parul- I couldn’t. Until I get my answers from you.

Tathagata- Yes. I’m ready to answer every question of yours. But, for God’s sake, don’t feel I’m the culprit.

Parul- That I’ll decide once I got my answers. So, will you be ready to answer me?

(Silence between them)

Tathagata- Yes! What do you want to know from me? Ask me.

Parul- I have these memories, but a lot of it is hazy and there are pieces that are missing and some new pieces have come back to me since I got sober. And about that incident, in particular, with you, Moinak and Chandan; the group of you guys, who forced me to do some things.

Tathagata- What you want to know?

Parul- I just want to know if all that really happened to me. Because sometimes it feels like I’m going crazy.

Tathagata- Parul. (Pause) You’re not going insane. You’re not delusional. (Long pause) that really happened. I remember. I was there.

Parul- Thank you.

Tathagata- I don’t know how much you want to hear…

Parul- Its ok. Just tell me whatever you remember.

Tathagata- It was in ’99, I suppose that day our exams were over. Chandan and Moinak were as usual planned to booze out. They went to that half warehouse half junkyard place at the backward of our hostel — we used to call VC’s den, you remember?

Parul- I remember that.

Tathagata- Yes, that was Moinak’s discovery; that open area between those horrible shag carpets, paneling and then the junks … all dusty with cobwebs; our favorite place to booze out and make our future plans.

Parul- I still can’t believe I was really there… that was one of the things that I could never explain. Because, I don’t know “Why would I had been gone there?”

Tathagata- You went along me.

Parul- I know. I Wish, I wouldn’t have went along you.

Tathagata- I was in my room, returned from the examination hall. Somebody told me, since it’s finally the time to return to our homes, so we’re meeting to hang out and that you also wanted to join us.

Parul- I remember that. We’re supposed to see a film, do you remember that? But, you kept on insisting; we go and booze out with Moinak and Chandan. As, you’ve promised them to join the party.

Tathagata- I don’t remember that. I remember we had little argument on this and finally you agreed to come with me.

Parul- (Long breath) God. I wish, I didn’t agree then

Tathagata- For any part that I played in this, I am very much sorry.

Parul- I remember we went to that place. Moinak and Chandan were already half drunk. They offered you drink. You joined them. Then they started talking about our relationship.

Tathagata- I can totally 100% recall that now. Our discussion was going vulgar. You, being the only woman present there, was feeling uncomfortable. You told me twice that you want to leave. But Moinak insisted you stay there.

Parul- I know. When I tried to walked out. He pulled me. I fall on ground. Then Chandan hold me on the ground. I was struggling to release myself. But, they were turning into beast. It was no more fun; it was more about force, power and abuse.

Tathagata- Completely. If you told me that you were forced, coerced, used, abused, threatened, I would totally buy it.

(A long silence)

Parul- And the man, whom I loved; the man whom I believed and completely depended upon, didn’t protect me, but he joined those beasts in their game.

Tathagata- I’m really sorry for that. I was helpless and drive by the desire also.

Parul- (Crying) Yes! You should feel sorry Tatha. You know what; it was not abused to my body but my soul too. And to tell you the truth, I don’t remember what exactly being done with me, but you beasts ripped my emotion to the level which I couldn’t revive since then. (A deep breath to compose her state)

(A long silence)

Tathagata- I actually could have save you, Parul. But the idea that it was non-consensual never crossed my mind.

Parul- I remember saying ‘No’…

Tathagata- At least initially, you said, ‘No, let’s stop’; maybe a couple of times. But then everything was ok. I remember afterward, you were really emotionally unresponsive, not talking. You left in a hurry.

(A long silence)

Tathagata- I do want you to know that I am so sorry for any pain I caused you. I did like you. There was no disrespect or … I never saw you as a piece of meat or some bitch. You were a little girl whom I wanted to marry and I can see that more clearly now.

Parul- Well, (Sounding tough) I was… and my background contributed in that…. I believed you that day and put myself in bad situations. And I didn’t know how to … I said ‘No’, but I didn’t scream or bite or kick because that’s not what I knew how to do. I just asked you nicely to stop.

Tathagata- Yeah, if you had done any of that stuff, we would have stopped right away. If I had to do it over again, I wouldn’t do it.

Parul- I do appreciate you talking to me about this. You know, you people made me what I am right now. I didn’t tell about that incidence to anyone, not even my mother. I wanted to tell her everything, but I didn’t wished to see her heart getting filled with grief after knowing her daughter got pregnant out of that… (Pause) rape. I didn’t know who among you was the father… I went alone to get myself aborted. It was a pain. I cried whole night the day.

(A long pause)

Parul- It had taken me a decade of alternately blaming and doubting me to actually start sifting through my memories in therapy, even longer to admit that what had happened to me was an assault. This was partly due to the hazy, spotty nature of my recollections — the brain has a beautiful way of blacking out things that are too horrible to remember. (Pause) Then I saw your friend request on Facebook. I decided I had to know once and for all what had really happened to me. (Pause) seized by the desire to know the truth, I immediately decided to ask you what had happened to me and clarify some things.

(Silence between them)

Tathagata- Parul… if you ever need anything… if you just need someone to back up or you have more questions, I’m totally available. I work till evening, but I’m around any time. I want to help in any way I can. And… (Pause) if possible, please forgive me.

Parul- Thank you. Just take care of you. And, if you ever become the father a son, teach him so that he value himself and understand that “No” means “No”.

Tathagata- I will.

–

Parul clicked on the ‘Ignore’ button for the Tathagata’s friend request. She walked to the balcony. The night is almost over. She has an important meeting tomorrow in the office. She has to talk on the solution to cut non-productive assets for her organization. She has very bright opportunity to get the promotion soon, which will make her the only woman to lead the group of 700 odd men. She has no time to date with the Past.

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Fresher than ever.

Crunchy numbers

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 1,900 times in 2010. That’s about 5 full 747s.

In 2010, there were 24 new posts, not bad for the first year! There were 58 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 3mb. That’s about 1 pictures per week.

The busiest day of the year was October 10th with 75 views. The most popular post that day was I won’t give up.

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were twitter.com, facebook.com, healthfitnesstherapy.com, digg.com, and the-best-twitter.com.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for bhopal gas tragedy, sholay, sholay film, khorika, and assamese cuisine.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

I won’t give up August 2010

The little girl I met in the Shopping Mall June 2010
1 comment

My experience of having Assamese cuisine.. April 2010

Bhopal Gas Tragedy: Justice Neatly Buried June 2010
1 comment

The Bengali Men July 2010

An interesting write from  Indu Raman: A GLOW FROM THE PAST.

Till the beginning of 2010, I was spending my life in rhythm, which most of the regular corporate managers spend… Objective… Deadline… Presentations… again the Objective… The vicious cycle was never-ending.

I have started the year 2010 with same pace and was on my first tour for the year, when I encounter with death. It is grey in color with no sound. The day I met with the road accident and had nine stitches on my head, changed my paradigm about the life I was living.

The first thing I learned on that day, good men do exist in this universe. I still regret for not able to thank the man who took me to the nearest hospital, get the doctor to put the stitches on my head, guard my belongings and then left without taking my thanks.

This accident left me with enough time to ponder over my daily routine, my passions, my wishes and life.

I realized, what I was doing was a dark tunnel with nowhere to go, nothing to claim as my contribution. I was away from friends, family and life.

I was happy and contended only for my professional goals and happiness, meanwhile my self-satisfaction was ignored. I was escalating the corporate ladder with economic freedom but my inner soul was deprived with happiness. My passion for films, music and friends were history for me.

During this time of convalescence, I realized I am living a life of dead. I decided to re-born and my outlook towards the life changed. I want to live for me; for my family, friends and more importantly with my passions.

I recovered, resumed my regular professional life, however, it was a changed person. My team mates complimented me for my new style. I am enjoying my professional success and at the same time I got back my life for my passion for films, music, writing and friends. I learned my way to separate my personal time with professional requirements. My presence with family and friends increased.

During the sudden gain of break time, I come across a new medium called Social Media, and more precisely with my Twitter presence. This new medium brings me close to some extra ordinary human beings, few of them I meet personally and enjoyed their company and some of them I wish to see in near future.

A few buddies I gain during the year 2010, which are definitely worth mentioning since they integrated in my life and teach me how to enjoy life are Sanjib, Shilpa and Ulhas. I come to know them through Twitter and then slowly get to know them personally. I admit, I enjoyed their company more because I got the opportunity to learn from them more than just friendly chatting. Beside them I acknowledge my association with wonderful person Nilim Dutta, who has his style and attitude, which I found rare in an entrepreneur. I count me lucky to know him. And a special mention goes for ‘Manu’ aka Sumana, a wonderful sister; we share a lot common in our interest and it’s always a good experience to talk to her.

If I look back to the year 2010, I find, it’s more filled with gains for me than regrets, which is for the first time in my life. I never felt this containment ever in past. Once, I thought to list my “not-gained” for 2010 and I find my list empty. I am happy.

I am about to begin a new year and a new decade in few hours. This time, I have no New Year resolution. I only wish to have great communication and peace in the days to come; in my life and in the life of all people I know in real life and in virtual life.

With this I write-up my last blog for the year 2010. Wish you all a very happy 2011 and days ahead.

Independent film making have already made its own space on the screen of film making process and short films have much contributed into its expansion. Every short films being made, has a story of its own. Scarcity of fund, balance between work & passion, convincing family & friends that the investment is safe… et.al. However, it still lack in its due appreciation. Making a short film is not new but somehow it got shadowed behind the star glitter mega movies.

I, being an avid short film watcher, both on-line & on-screen, felt of sharing some of them on my blog for mass viewing and create awareness about this genre of film making, which I liked.

Here is a couple of short film and I promise to share more in coming days.

Hope you will enjoy them and share your comments.

Connected – Short Film

Set in the distant future, Connected is a story about survival and greed with a post apocalyptic wasteland as its backdrop.

Written & directed by: Jens Raunkjær Christensen & Jonas Drotner Mouritsen

The Sound Machine – Short Film

The Sound Machine tells the tale of Klausner, a man obsessed with science and sound. His latest invention takes him into a world where sounds take an unexpected turn, and what he discovers gives him a nasty shock.

Written & Directed by: Zahid Chohan

This short-film is the first collaboration between two independent filmmaker from Mumbai, Elvis D’Silva and Anand Sivakumaran.

The trailer gives a glimpse of a strong story line and fine work of story telling from two independent film makers.

1st collector for Hello Goodbye – Trailer

Ek Cup Chya’ (A Cup of Tea), a critically-acclaimed Marathi movie based on a commoner’s fight against the indifferent bureaucracy with the help of Right To Information (RTI) Act.

Kashinath Sawant, a State Transport bus conductor from a village in coastal part of Maharashtra lives with his family– wife Rukmini, old mother, two daughters Vasanti and Vanadevi and two sons Chandan and Abeer. The Sawant family suddenly is wrongly slammed with a huge electricity bill. They feel trapped by the circumstances and humiliated by the indifferent bureaucracy. The saving grace is their sense of humour and warmth of familial bond. The Right to Information Act accidentally crosses Kashinaths path. With the support of his driver friend Saiyyad and under the guidance of activist Dr.Durga Kashinath and family regain their honour.

DIRECTORS: Sumitra Bhave & Sunil Sukthankar

MUSIC: Shrirang Umrani

CASTS: Kishor Kadam, Ashwini Giri, Kamal Desai, Devika Daftardar, Mrunmayi Deshpande, Om Bhutkar, Parn Pethe, Madan Deodhar, Rajesh More and Sunil Sukthankar

1st collector for Ek cup Chya