A movie that moved.

What I’m going to say next, will probably generate quite a few “Ki? Ki bolche eta?!” accompanied with eyebrow joining frowns on the faces of the Bengali Brethren.  But the fact is that it wasn’t till yesterday night that I saw Unishe April (19^th April).  For those who are not aware, Unishe April is a 1994 Bengali classic by Late Rituparno Ghosh, depicting the complexities of a mother-daughter relationship. I was a little sceptical about watching the movie because all I’d ever heard about it was unending praise, and more often than not, whenever I have seen a movie with very high expectations, it has failed me. Nevertheless, I plopped on the sofa, with the laptop and a bar of my favourite chocolate, and anxiously pressed the ‘Play’ button.

Official Poster
(Picture Courtesy: Internet)

Here is the story of a 26 year old woman, Aditi (Debashree Roy), who lost her father to a heart attack and her mother at the hands of dance, when she was only eight. Totally dependent on the old family help, Bela (Chitra Sen), lovingly called Boya by her; she sorely misses her father, and lives with the strong determination of becoming a doctor like him one day. It is the morning of 19th April, Aditi’s father’s death anniversary and she is visiting home. One can’t help but feel a strong sense of sympathy for her, as she lies in bed, occasionally turning back to look at her father’s photo on her bed shelf, feeling bothered by the sound of the ghunghroo, coming from her mother’s dance classes. Her face sans make up and her outfit comprising a dull long skirt, an oversized t-shirt and big black spectacles perfectly reflect the combination of dullness and bitterness that dwells within her.

Aditi (Debashree Roy)
(Picture Courtesy: Internet)

In contrast, her mother, Sarojini (Aparna Sen), portrays perfection. Right from her well pinned saree and her tight bun, to her back right posture and measured bindis, she has a stiff air about her which lacks that obvious scent of motherhood. She feels resentment towards her daughter who never bares her heart out to her. Interactions between her and Mithu (Aditi’s pet name) are over courteous and measured while she shows great fondness and dependence on her constant companion, Somnath (Dipankar Dey).  When she receives a phone call informing her that she has been bestowed with a prestigious award, she plans a trip to Madras with Somnath that very evening to visit her Guruji. Detest towards her in the minds of the viewers increases manifold, as she makes it clear that she has forgotten her husband’s death anniversary.

 

Sarojini (Aparna Sen)
(Picture Courtesy: Internet)

Aditi is shown to be heartbroken, as once again, her mother’s love for the performing arts prevails over her. She anxiously awaits her lover’s call as he is the only one who would realize what this day meant for her. Preparations for a magazine interview are ongoing and her mother is seen getting decked up in full grandeur. Amidst the entire hustle bustle, Aditi receives the phone call from Sudeep (Prosenjit Chatterjee) only to be told that he now knows who her mother is and his family will never get their son married to someone who is a dancer’s daughter. She begs, pleads but finally accepts reality. This is one of the turning points in the movie where Aditi’s outbursts are replaced by her stoic demeanour. She silently eats niramish (Vegetarian) as her mother enjoys the various delicacies made in her honour.

Aditi receives the call from Sudeep
as the interview goes on in the background
(Picture Courtesy: Internet)

As the house clears out, a diametric scene unfolds. Sarojini is getting ready for her trip, donning a dark green and orange bordered south silk, while Aditi writes out a prescription for sleeping pills and hands it over to the unsuspecting Boya. The darkest hour begins when Aditi sees her mother’s car leave the driveway. She asks Boya to go visit her sister. The moments Aditi spends alone in the house juxtaposed with flashbacks from her childhood and courtship are the high points of the movie. The camera focuses on a table calendar. The date haunts Aditi. Fate chose the same day for the two men she loved so dearly to depart from her life. Irony is at its best as she writes out her suicide letter on her newly made doctor’s letterhead. However, the gloom breaks when the doorbell rings and Aditi finds her mother standing at the door, completely drenched. Her flight had been cancelled.

Aditi’s moments in the empty house
(Picture Courtesy: Internet)

Upon finding nothing to eat, they proceed to make a meal. Sarojini brings out her old recipe book and Aditi is mildly surprised to know that her mother was interested in something other than dance. The situation is awkward and sprinkled with tension; almost a decade later both mother and daughter was doing something together. Sarojini opens the storeroom for some ingredients and finds her favourite perfume tucked away in an old container.  Aditi’s voice returns. She screams out how the smell of that perfume haunted her. It reminded her of her childhood when Sarojini came back late every night and walked into her room with that scent trailing her, as she pretended to be fast asleep.  Sarojini wants to reach out to her but that invisible wall between them seems unbroken, though in the moment where Aditi asks her mother to be careful lest she hurts her knee, the viewer gets a feeling that the wall maybe developing cracks.

Aditi looks on anxiously
as her mother discovers the perfume
(Picture Courtsey: Internet)

After a quiet meal, Sarojini is seen arranging Aditi’s room. Eventually she chances upon her letter and the half opened strips of pills. At this point of the movie, the character of Sarojini that had been portrayed till now sheds its skin. She loses all composure and bangs on the bathroom door asking her Mithu to come out. An astonished Aditi opens the door only to be slapped by her mother. She nonchalantly reminds her of this day, many years ago, when her father died and she was far away, caustically mentioning that, had her flight not been cancelled, history would have repeated itself.

The subsequent frames show Sarojini seated on the bed with Aditi in a chair opposite her. She explains to her daughter that the man who was Aditi’s father was very different when he was Sarojini’s husband. The flashback shows Manish (Bodhiswatta Majumdar), as the husband, disgruntled by his wife’s fame and success. Constant efforts by Sarojini to please him were met by continuous egoistic jabs about her dance and lifestyle. Manish has no motion in the movie. All of the scenes have him confined to the bed reading a paper or just lying down, thus representing his lack of initiative to make the relation work. Sarojini admits that when Aditi was born, she purposely took a backseat and let her father guide her life so that he didn’t ever feel that his over successful wife took the limelight here as well. Marriage made her realize what love didn’t; that her father and she were two completely different individuals. Aditi has difficulty in accepting this reality and she breaks down in front of her father's photo.

Aditi & Sarojini’s
heart to heart conversation
(Picture Courtesy: Internet)

Aditi is seen going to her mother's room. Sitting on the bed next to her, she tearfully questions her why in all these years she never taught her to dance when there were hundreds of her students whom she loved like daughters. Sarojini admits she never thought that she would like it. For the first time in the movie Sarojini addresses her as Shona (Darling). As the two of them embrace, dawn breaks, symbolically cracking the hard distance between them. The phone rings. It is Sudeep. The movie ends on a note where one is free to imagine what happens to Aditi. Does she follow her heart and marry Sudeep regardless of his narrow mentality? Does she learn from her mother's mistake and act rationally? It’s all a figment of one's imagination.

Mother-Daughter Union
(Picture Courtesy: Internet)

This movie was way ahead of its times. It shows that sacrifice alone can never be the backbone of a successful marriage. Sarojini's perfection may bother quite a few because we have been inclined to believe that a good wife and mother is the one who has no time to take care of herself and who has no life outside the four walls. That a woman can earn more than her husband, that she can single-handedly fulfil her child's financial requirements is something that was captured by this genius of a director more than a decade before we started speaking about the independent woman of today. In a particular scene Aditi feels saddened by the fact that her mother never baked a cake on her birthday like her friends' mothers did. This was answered by her mother in yet another scene where she says that the medical course Aditi took wasn’t something she managed easily. Whoever said that cooking was the only way of expressing love? Isn’t, toiling everyday to earn comfort for your child, a form of love? However, the director also harps on lack of communication being a major flaw in most wavering relationship. Aditi and Sarojini were right in their places till the day they tried on each other's shoes. It is good to silently expect but better to say what your heart desires. It reduces resentment.

The house blends perfectly with the movie especially the spiral staircase depicting the turmoil between the mother-daughter. The phone is almost a character in itself, its dull yet loud monotone bringing moments of pride, betrayal and anxiousness. Boya's undying love for Aditi right from where she carries her in her arms to the bathroom till she increases the speed of the fan sensing her to be flustered only reinforces the fact love has got nothing to do with blood. Somnath and Sarojini's friendship or love if you wish to call it that, shows that there is nothing wrong about having someone to take utmost care of you without putting the relation on paper. It would be wrong to analyze the acting because straight from the scene where Sarojini reads her suicide note to where Aditi is hysterical with the phone in her hand, from a lanky Sudeep who is confused about commitment to the awestruck student who visits her teacher in the storm, from Somnath trying to bridge the gap between Aditi and Sarojini without crossing his line to Bela blurring the line between love and duty, from Manish always being the unhappy victim to the array of relatives doing the typical cursory talk, such is the lifelikeness that, for a moment one might forget that all of it is happening behind a screen.

I am glad I hadn’t seen the movie earlier. Glad that I saw it at an age when I could fathom the myriad of relations and characters explored by the director in these 138 minutes. I could feel the movie breathing and it stayed with me even after the screen turned black. Yes, I know most of you have seen this movie and probably my words have been more than elaborate, but the fact is this is not a review. In fact, I don’t know the technical aspects of film making well enough to do a review. So I could not be crisp and curt. My words are laced with the tears I shed, the anger I felt and the happiness that engulfed me. Just as Sarojini stares at her Guruji's photo and closes her eyes to pay homage, this is my gurudokshina to you Unishe April. You are now the permanent occupant of a corner of my heart.

I look down at my lap. An unwrapped bar of 5 star glittered.

The Heart Warmer
(Picture Courtesy: Internet)