Kahaani

Kahaani. Have a story and will tell. One film that breaks all norms of budgets, big star casts, foreign locals, unreal sets, designer costumes, and every other cliché that could be associated with film making.

Vidya (Vidya Balan) and her husband Arnab Bagchi are software engineers settled in London. Her husband moves to Kolkatta on an assigned project. Vidya realizes something is amiss when two weeks pass and Arnab, an otherwise conscientious husband has not gotten in touch. There starts the Kahaani of a 7 month pregnant woman her journey in a city known for its literary, artistic and revolutionary heritage, but most importantly - a missing husband.

Straight out of the airport she heads to the police station to file a missing complaint. Inspector Satyoki Rana (Parambrata Chattopadhyay) offers to drive a very tired and pregnant Vidya, to her hotel, Mona Lisa, the same place Arnab stayed at before he went missing. Once there, Rana and Vidya are both perplexed as to why an NRI like Arnab would choose a run down guest house, or the fact that there are no records of a guest named Arnab Bagchi ever having stayed there.
Vidya slowly begins to realize finding her husband will not be an easy task - how do you find someone who the city claims does not exist?

Rana decides to help Vidya out of compassion and together they set out to find- National Data Centre (NDC) the place Arnab was assigned his project at, has no employee records in his name. The school he told Vidya stories about, the neighbourhood he grew up in, has no recollection of a family named Bagchi. There are no flight records of Arnab Bagchi having left London, or landing in Kolkatta on the dates specified.The only lead that may look like a candle of hope is that Arnab’s face resembles an ex- employee of NDC - Milan Damji – who too, by now, has no evidence of existence. Vidya's candle in the wind keeps getting spat over by The Deputy Chief of Intelligence Bureau, Khan, who keeps aggressively ‘suggesting in good faith’ that Vidya should give up searching for her missing husband and forget the name Milan Damji. Every time Vidya and Rana come close to hope, it ends up in the shape of a dead body. As mystery embroils further, Vidya is convinced that things are not what they appear to be, there is a deep connection between Arnab resembling Milan and both men missing. Thoughts of maybe he just deserted her or almost getting pushed in front of a speeding train only strengthens her belief that she’s closing in on finding the truth. A truth nobody wants her to know.

As the story progressed every inch of my muscle got deeply involved in this Kahaani, the anguish of a 7 month pregnant woman, her vulnerability of maybe never finding an answer for her unborn child - whatever did happen to his father? Sujoy Ghosh’s narrative magic and the cinematography for me, was like an out of body experience. I felt it was me in Kolkatta’s body - it’s furious creative energy, it’s streets and by-lanes, the tram rides, the landmark Durga Puja, the graffiti of colors, all of this made Vidya Bagchi’s nightmare alive!

Not for one minute in the two hours of watching the film did I ever sit back distracted, my usual ‘all knowledgeable of movie plots’ self sat puzzled, un-puzzling, all through the popcorn break. Sujoy’s direction, Vidya’s flawless acting (Vidya being Vidya), Rana’s earnestness, L Hamre’s story took away my custom ending to most movie outings, I did not get to smack my hands in pride while exclaiming “aahhh!! Knew it! See rubbish!”

There was however one scene, where in , Vidya breaks down at the thought of life without her husband and child, which I thought did not add anything to the story and its purpose was to largely play to the gallery, but we’ll let that go, cause by then Sujoy and team have already accomplished what they’d set out for.

The music of Kahaani reflects the soul of Kolkotta, switching from being enigmatic, to dark, from being soulful to lingering. It may not fetch a spot in being a collector’s item but the two tracks Shotti bolchi and Ekla chalo re have great potential. Ekla Chalo Re, is originally a Bengali patriotic song written by Rabindranath Tagore in 1905 and has been beautifully rendered in the film by Amitabh Bachchan. This is what it means:

Jodi tor đak shune keu na ashe tôbe êkla chôlo re,
Êkla chôlo, êkla chôlo, êkla chôlo, êkla chôlo re.
Jodi keu kôtha na kôe, ore ore o ôbhaga,
Jodi shôbai thake mukh firaee shôbai kôre bhôe—
Tôbe pôran khule
O tui mukh fuţe tor moner kôtha êkla bôlo re.
Jodi shôbai fire jae, ore ore o ôbhaga,
Jodi gôhon pôthe jabar kale keu fire na chae—
Tôbe pôther kãţa
O tui rôktomakha chôrontôle êkla dôlo re.
Jodi alo na dhôre, ore ore o ôbhaga,
Jodi jhôŗ-badole ãdhar rate duar dêe ghôre—
Tôbe bojranôle
Apon buker pãjor jalie nie êkla jôlo re.

Translation into English by Rabindranath Tagore himself

If they answer not to thy call walk alone,
If they are afraid and cower mutely facing the wall,
O thou unlucky one,
open thy mind and speak out alone.
If they turn away, and desert you when crossing the wilderness,
O thou unlucky one,
trample the thorns under thy tread,
and along the blood-lined track travel alone.
If they do not hold up the light when the night is troubled with storm,
O thou unlucky one,
with the thunder flame of pain ignite thy own heart
and let it burn alone.

The Bengali language, substitutes the syllable “v” for “b”, by doing so it also predicts the future – make room, for BIG B (Bidya Balan) has arrived!