The best things come to those who wait,” they say. I believe they arrive when we least expect it. Long story short, I didn’t even know Gaurang Jalan or Subhrajit Mitra when I was approached for Avijatrik. Never did I imagine I’d get to slip into the shoes of the legendary character of Apu, or that I’d attend international festivals as a delegate for this. When I say (as I’ve said in every promotional interview) that I’m grateful for the opportunity, I genuinely mean every word. The same goes for multiple projects I’ve been a part of, since 2018. The year I believe was a turning point for me.
After having attended the 26th Kolkata International Film Festival in the city, where Avijatrik received rave reviews and applause from packed houses (at both shows), we packed our bags for the 51st International Film Festival of India to be held in Goa. Now it is no secret that I belong to the paranoid group of people who sanitise every grocery item since the Coronavirus hit our lives — so the thought of travelling in a packed aircraft gave me a couple of sleepless nights. With a child at home, you can never be too careful. That’s how I look at it. However, I also believe taking precautions and using common sense takes care of most things, and you cannot help it beyond a point. So, armed with multiple masks and sanitizer bottles of all shapes and sizes, we set out to catch our afternoon flight on January 20 from the Calcutta airport to Goa.
Two and a half hours don’t seem too long when you have your earphones and some downloaded music (although I still feel travelling without a book or magazine was/is a blunder). Soon we found ourselves on terra firma, and after what seemed like ages in front of the baggage belt, we were guided inside a mini air-conditioned bus that had been assigned to ferry delegates to and from the hotel. By this time, the sun had set and the lights of Goa revealed themselves in all their glory to this first-time visitor who had heard a lot but had zero experience of this “party capital” of our country.
Mid sea ship-casinos, LED blazing trees, festoons and banners adorning the venues of IFFI made us feel very welcome. Forty-five minutes later, we were being garlanded with our delegate cards and being assigned rooms in a posh hotel. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t doze off right after dinner. Our wonderful group went out for a walk to enjoy the night air, click some pictures and visit our venue for the next day, which was hardly a kilometre away. Initial reconnaissance complete, we returned to our respective rooms (with me running on fumes) and collapsed.
The morning of January 21, Gaurang ji took the initiative to take us to the Basilica of Bom Jesus — the one landmark of Goa that no history buff should leave without experiencing. For a Ken Follett fan, this visit was fascinating.
The silence, the history, the golden altar, everything combined, transports one to a time gone by. There’s so much our country has to offer, if only we could patronise ourselves. Following the church visit, we shopped at some local stores by which time the sun had turned merciless, forcing us to retreat to our temporary abode and dive into the buffet lunch. A short nap later, I freshened up and slipped into designer wear for an event for the first time in my life (special thanks to Jyotee Khaitan ma’am for the royal bandhgala) and we all headed to the venue for our 4pm screening of Avijatrik.
Regular IFFI attendees — including our cinematographer Supratim Bhol and associate producer Dr Sumit Aggarwal — lamented the skeletal attendance at the festival this year. But for a first-time visitor like myself, just being there was an honour. After the initial red carpet photo-ops and interviews, we were seated inside Audi 2 of INOX where our screening began shortly after a 20-minute animated short film. To be honest, after the houseful shows at KIFF, I was slightly disappointed by the attendance here, but then most delegates and film enthusiasts could not travel to IFFI this time owing to the travel restrictions. Those who did watch it however, were elated and couldn’t stop praising our work. A cup of coffee and some more photographs later, we were driven back to the hotel.
To celebrate the honour, team Avijatrik decided to have dinner at Candolim beach. Supratimda (our cinematographer) being a regular here was our guide on this ‘expedition’.
We chose a fairly secluded section to sit down and enjoy the food and company — the vast expanse of the roaring Arabian Sea in front, and endless ocean of stars in the night sky above, creating the perfect setting. Before we knew it, the clock had struck midnight, we were back in our cars for the drive back to the hotel, and I (as usual) was running on fumes — the perils of being an early riser and not skipping workout sessions at the hotel gym even when in Goa.
On the morning of January 22, we headed to the venue once again for some interviews and bytes with national media houses, after which we enjoyed a cup of coffee from one of the many stalls on the IFFI premises. Here I was fortunate to meet Mohan Agashe who was there to attend a screening of his film. I introduced myself and he remembered working with Baba on a telefilm years ago.
Left with some time on our hands before the evening press conference, we returned to the hotel for a quick lunch, where I was momentarily frozen upon discovering Priyadarshan was having his meal at the table to my right, and Padmini Kolhapure and Zeenat Aman, at a table to my left.
Too shy to ask for a selfie and having completed what was left on my plate, I rose with a pretentious calmness and went back up to my room.
Post lunch, at the venue, Subhrajitda (director Subhrajit Mitra) was on the dais for the directors’ press conference with two other participating directors, where Gaurangji, Ditipriya, Supratimda and I too contributed in bits.
The evening was reserved for a cruise on the Mandovi river which was unfortunately cut short by an urgent work call for which I had to return to the hotel. Nevertheless, the late evening drive was an experience in itself. 23rd morning, post breakfast we packed up and boarded the air-conditioned mini bus once again.
IFFI volunteers in charge of hospitality took a headcount and checked our names off their list as we headed to the airport where we checked in smoothly and quickly. Much to my disappointment, there wasn’t a single bookstore in sight while we had two whole hours to kill, not to mention the two-and-a-half-hour flight ahead. However, this time I was armed with a couple of downloaded episodes of one of my favourite shows, on my phone.
Subhrajitda and I being taller than the average Indian, were pleasantly surprised to find we were checked in to first row seats (which we know have the best leg space). Some napping and some watching later, we set foot back in the city.
Goa is no doubt amazing. Being part of international festivals, prestigious. But there is no place like Calcutta. No feeling like coming back home, for a hopelessly homesick individual like me. 2020 was a disaster and led to multiple postponements and cancellations. However, KIFF and IFFI did come to us... who waited.
