I recently had the privilege of being invited to Switzerland as an Indian delegate to premiere my latest short documentary You In This City, This City Inside You at the prestigious 29th Internationale Kurzfilmtage Winterthur.

My journey began in the small yet beautiful city of Winterthur. Waking up to a surprisingly sunny winter day, the first thing that hit me was the cold and the sunlight striking the red and gold autumn leaves around me. A city of gardens, hills and museums, I walked through the cobbled streets of the old town with my gracious host Patrik Debrunner, who along with Andrea, showed me the best Swiss hospitality (read “a lot of Swiss cheese”). The film festival brought together an eclectic mix of international filmmakers with modern cinematic pieces, some of which utilised animation, virtual reality, and archival footage in equal measure.

The days passed in screenings, new interactions and learnings. The real friendships, however, unfolded in the nights at the alternative counterculture pub, Kraftfeld. An all-wooden decor, a disco ball dance floor with intoxicating electronic music from local DJs, a fireplace in the centre and velvet sofas. Perspectives from across the world, discussions about hybrid forms and “machinema”, local Swiss dark beers and suddenly I would find myself being one of the last people at the pub with my new dear friend from Paris.

On the closing night of the festival, the programming crew took over the console and we the dance floor. And then the clean, cold night welcomed me. I often found myself walking back home alone through a completely empty city, quiet enough to listen to my own breathing. Coming from the chaos of Mumbai and Calcutta, the lack of people on the streets was strange yet calming.

Our film had three full-house screenings, all of which were followed by Q&A sessions. I felt both humbled and proud to see an independent film from India resonate universally with international audiences. Words like “poetic”, “delicate” or “melancholic” were used. Some asked about our Indian cities and people, about migrant life in Mumbai. Filled with gratitude for my closest collaborators Tanvi, Shashank and Amritendu for pulling this off, I did my best to represent them. Dev R Nil’s fantastic wardrobe support sure made the feat easier!

Naturally, the end of the festival hit me emotionally, and I sought out what felt like the only logical solution — nature. Over the next few days, I lost myself completely in the foggy mornings, the autumn leaves, the vineyards and the dazzling lakes, the old towns and churches and of course the magical Swiss Alps. My only companion was my old Nikon 35mm camera.

There is a gondola ride uphill to Mount Rigi, which passes through green pastures dotted with small cottages with chimney smoke. One finally understands where Heidi might have lived as a child. I was blessed with a sunny day, and the snow-covered peaks of the Alps were transcendent against the azure sky. I remember wishing that my entire family was standing with me, breathing in that crisp alpine air.

A boat ride took me to the fabled Lucerne with its medieval wooden bridge and the sombre Lion Monument (carved into a stone face in memory of an anti-monarchy uprising), where the air was heavy with history. As I walked through the “narrow streets of cobbled stone”, I saw Christmas markets being set up. Timed correctly, a train ride beneath the Alps takes you to the ethereal Lake Brienz just in time for sunset and you may witness nature unfolding its magic, ephemeral and immaculate. Alone, I made a quiet prayer to the mountains and the skies and the sunset.

Till evening, I stayed in the lake town, after which I caught the train to Bern. Immediately out of Bahnhofstrasse, I was encountered by a carnival brass band on the streets. I walked to the parliament plaza, where an immersive light and music show had gathered half the city. Glühwein and smoked ham sandwiches everywhere. As Bern slowly retired for the night, I found myself walking the old town, passing beneath its many church spires. In an Irish pub, I met a travelling band, and an old Irish lady bought me a Guinness. Catching the last train back, I returned to Winterthur… not before missing a change and getting stranded at an empty Zurich station.

The last day in Switzerland, I spent walking around the beautiful city of Zurich. The city has a charm that cannot be unravelled in one day but surely pulls you in. Grossmünster church with its heavy silence and double spires; Lindenhof from where you can see all the slanting rooftops; the sunlight stretching over the narrow streets; the alleyways and roadside cafés and even Bahnhofstrasse with all the world’s top luxury brands.

A Swiss friend of mine, Milena, accompanied me all evening, taking me through Zurich as a local would. A beer and chips beside Lake Zurich while the sun set and a street musician played a public piano; a Spanish tapas spot full of laughter and wine; a glass of the spiced hot red wine called Glühwein, which means Christmas is around the corner; Vito’s pizzas with the best cheese. We walked through narrow cobblestone alleys lit up like an European film all the way downtown, where the night streets are always happening. She tied a small Swiss bell on my backpack as a memento to carry. Zurich left me wanting to return to know it more. As my friend Milena says, in Switzerland you always meet a person twice.

The final morning dawned in a flourish of colour and cold breeze. Bidding a bittersweet farewell to my hosts, I left strangely content. And just when I thought it was over, through my flight window, I saw the majestic Alps laid out beneath me one last time. Memories for a lifetime are often made in a matter of days.