Dear Mr. Rituparno Ghosh,
I got up this morning with a shocking news. That you had died. My first thought was, “What kind of silly joke is this?” So I cleaned my eyes once again and looked closer into the phone. Yes, there it was. Rituparno Ghosh was no more. That you really had died.You are gone with a finality that can never be undone. With you went the niche of Bengali cinema I was so proud of. I have never been a fan of films because I have never found films comparable to books in terms of portrayal of human emotions. But you were among the very few filmmakers in whose works I found the respite of watching a film without the feeling of a superficial watcher. You restored my faith in Bangla movies. You were the one who had direct access to Ray’s culture of filmmaking. You held me spellbound with each of the movies you made. I was too young when you made Titli. When I first watched it, I didn’t quite grasp it. But then when I watched it again, in college, I had goose bumps all over. I exclaimed: how is this man doing it? Your portrayal of complex human emotions was so simple and subtle and yet so piercing that it went right through my heart and I didn’t even realize what did it. Then came “Chokher Bali”- your interpretation of the Tagore novel – and I saw a beloved novel of mine turning into a beautiful poetry on the screen before me. Through all your films you surprised me, inspired me, and made me stronger. I came out of your films stronger and bolder. You influenced me so subtly yet deeply that my outlook of the world changed in just two hours. You took taboo subjects and made heart wrenching films out of them, rubbing it in the face of your audience and forcing them to face the issues than hide from them. I, as a woman, connected so well with the way you made your women strong and vulnerable at the same time. The way you spoke of women – hardly anyone had done that before. You made me realize that certain tabooed topics could be freely spoken about after all. That it was ok to talk about things I felt for. That it was not necessary to be afraid of what people will think all the time. You will be remembered in my heart for the way you held up courage through all the gibes at the way you dressed and talked, the personal attacks on your films and the roles you acted, through all the ridicules that popular TV show hosts threw your way and the way you never shied away from what you believed. Today when the same insensitive society you were trying so hard to change and educate gathered voluntarily to pay you last homage for what you were and what you did, you are no more to witness it. You had to leave the world to be left unnoticed for the next six hours, with all the pain and anger that you had to deal with. Now that you are gone, people are truly realising what they will miss. Without you modern Bengali intellectualism will never be the same again. Now that you are gone, there’s nothing to bring you back. If only it is of any relevance to you, wherever you are, I would like to tell you that, you would always be remembered in hearts of those who loved you and those who were jealous of you. Your films will always have their special spots in the hearts of people and you will always be the epitome of contemporary Bangaliyana. There’s only so much I can tell about what I feel right now. So once again, like all other Bengalis, I borrow words from the greatest poet:
You will remain in silence in my heart You will remain in silence Silent, withdrawn, closer as the full moon sky You will remain in silence My life, youth, my entire world, my entire aspirations You will fill me with pride and honour With your silent inspirations Sincerely One of your biggest fans
© copyright 2012 – All rights reserved
Riot of Random