The real attraction of Ek Thi Daayan for me was not producer Vishal Bhardwaj or the return of Konkona Sensharma in Bollywood (her last release was in 2010) or even the against-the-grain casting of Emraan Hashmi. It was Mukul Sharma. Konkona’s father, Aparna Sen’s ex-husband, who’s written the story and has also got screenplay credits alongside Vishal.

Now, Mukul did briefly act in films once upon a time but he has also run a pest control business, partnered an ad agency, produced pocket cartoons (for The Telegraph), edited and written science and science fiction, penned a weekly spiritual column and a popular puzzle column! When such a mind was the source for a Hindi feature film, you had to sit up and take notice. And as it turned out to be, you also had to sit up and take notice because it’s oh-so-spooky.

Ek Thi Daayan is a rare Bollywood scary movie which scares. Mukul has crafted a story which is nestled in the real world but can go underground — the world where the witches reside — at will and mix and match characters from both spheres seamlessly. And that’s what makes it so exciting when you don’t know for a large part of the film whether the kid is imagining things or the woman is actually Daayana and not Diana.

Perhaps it’s best for you to go in without knowing who that woman is given there are three women on the film’s poster. Bobo The Baffler (Emraan Hashmi) is the famous magician who is haunted by his past and the house he stayed in as a child can still throw up ambling lizards inside trunks. But lizards in Ek Thi Daayan also represent witches whose power is plaited in their chotis and even if you chop them off, they can grow again, like the tails of lizards. Binuni badmaash hai!

Debutant director Kannan Iyer manages to create the fitting atmosphere and mood for the film. The motifs and props may not always be new — elevators, children, dolls, et al — but that first half is brilliantly creepy. The second half gets a bit convenient in its attempt to create a sense of childhood deja vu and that very filmi Vikram Bhatt-ish climax is quite a downer. Yes, Ek Thi Daayan’s “Kaat de choti” is Parineeta’s “Tod de deewar”.

Even if you are spooked out of your senses, you can’t take your eyes off Konkona. Used to playing the bhalo meye next door, she is deliciously sinister here. The grin, the walk, the look… this is yet another effortless showcase of one of the best natural actors of this generation.

Emraan is an actor here and not a star. No, no he does kiss — his liplock with Huma Qureshi is one of the best of his career and that’s no mean feat you would agree — but he also gets into character well enough for us to stay invested in his fear. Huma herself lights up the frames she’s in. While she’s free-flowing in the lighter and romantic scenes, she does go marginally OTT in the climax, in a way tilting the tone of the film.

Kalki Koechlin has a cameo really and again she has to play an NRI and read an English book at a cafe like in That Girl in Yellow Boots. The kids (Visshesh Tiwari and Sara Arjun) are terrific and Pavan Malhotra has hardly ever disappointed.

It’s so good to see Rajatava Dutta play such an important role in a Bollywood film (much meatier than Kaminey), that of the psychiatrist who treats Emraan. And guess what he is called? Dr Ranjan Palit! Yes our Deshapriya Park’s master cinematographer who shot Vishal’s 7 Khoon Maaf.

Palit’s assistant on that film Saurabh Goswami has shot ETD and given Vishal’s penchant for the dark — it’s always been unlit and underlit, from Tassaduq Hussain to Palit — the Calcutta boy has kept it succinctly somber. This is one young DoP worth straining your eyes for.

Vishal’s songs effortlessly seep into the screenplay with Yaaram being sheer aaram on the ears. How one wishes it was shot more imaginatively. Even Kaali kaali, which is pure Mani Ratnam territory of a couple teasing each other in their domestic space, is visualised so boringly. Iyer’s song picturisations could do with a fillip in his next one.

No complaints with the brilliant background score by Clinton Cerejo, who wowed us last year with his Kahaani work. The sound design (Manoj Goswami) and the visual effects are top-notch. The crumbling of the daayan just before the interval point is brilliantly executed. And with Sreekar Prasad as the editor, you know the pacing is pitch perfect.

When finally Bobo closes the film with the line that there’s both magic and witchcraft inside us and it’s what we choose to practise, it makes sense and that’s the triumph of the movie. In these worlds that live within us and beyond us, it’s often not about what we believe but what we feel. In Ek Thi Daayan when the elevator’s button no. 6 was blinking red three times — 666 is the number of the devil — my phone’s top bar read: 11:06 66%. That’s the time and the battery left but then you can read it the way you wish to.