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Indian Express

Aparna Sen on why writing is her new love, films and OTT: ‘My life is a school'

For filmmaker Aparna Sen, her retro glasses reveal more than they conceal — her eyes looking for new words in her stories. For the last four years, she has been writing furiously, sometimes translating the modern poets of Bengal, at other times jotting down fragments of memories or a script she may never turn into a film. In between, she may be playing with her four dogs, cooking for friends and reading a poem by Russian poet Anna Akhmatova. Perhaps, she would have read her lines, 'You will hear thunder and remember me, and think, she wanted storms.' Sen has kicked up many storms in her 79 years but would like to be known for her incandescent love for life. 'I am quite lazy now if you ask me,' she chuckles. 'The two small dogs in Kolkata and the two big ones at my home in Shantiniketan are more than a handful. Writing happened during the Covid lockdowns, when I spent a lot of time reading poetry. And I thought to myself that while the world knew about Tagore because of English translations, Bengal's modernist poets, who understood the alienation and anxieties of a post-colonial world, were not read elsewhere. So I got down to translating the poems of Sunil Gangopadhyay, Jibanananda Das, Shakti Chattopadhyay, Shankha Ghosh and Joy Goswami. I translated one poem every day with a missionary zeal,' says Sen, who continues to be an avid student of literature. That's perhaps partly because of her lineage (she is the niece of Jibanananda Das and daughter of film historian, critic and director Chidananda Dasgupta) and partly because of her immediate circle — her husband Kalyan Ray is an author and literature professor in the US, her friends are academics and daughter, actor-director Konkona Sen Sharma, is a voracious reader. 'It's not exactly a book club but we keep on sharing our reading lists and have discussions. Konkona suggests a lot of books,' says Sen, who has referenced Shakespeare in the Lear-like Violet Stoneham in 36 Chowringhee Lane (1981), and in Arshinagar (2015), a take on Romeo and Juliet against the backdrop of land mafia wars. Though she dropped out of Presidency College mid-course, her professor Kajal Sen Gupta always remembered her as the student who understood the grain of Shakespeare. 'I was deeply inspired by Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Spanish surrealism. That's the reason I have added some elements of magic realism in my films too,' says Sen. The reading circle was where she chanced upon filmmaker Suman Ghosh, an economics professor by profession and a filmmaker by passion. Familiarity grew into friendship with Sen finally agreeing to be the subject of his documentary, Paroma: A Journey with Aparna Sen, which released this January. The documentary was screened recently at the Habitat Film Festival in Delhi, where Sen looked back at some of her work. 'I think she embodies the rare breed of Bengal's fiery and free-spirited liberals who can own both their Bengali and Western identities with elan and articulate in both languages. That refinement is fast fading,' says Ghosh. A WOMAN'S VOICE Although she was introduced to films by Satyajit Ray as a child bride who adults into a young woman in Teen Kanya (1961), Sen was practical enough to understand that she couldn't sustain a career without going mainstream. 'I had huge commercial success and have no regrets because it got me to a place where I could think of owning my voice. But I was frustrated by stereotypes,' says the filmmaker, who has won nine national awards as director. Yet the glamorous star avatar was to be the biggest impediment in her journey. As filmmaker Srijit Mukherji admits, 'She was my first crush and inspired my celluloid dreams with her aura and charisma. Not that she was a brilliant actress but there was something about her mannerism that added to her charm. I didn't realise she was so sharp as a director till I became her assistant.' Actor Sujoy Prasad Chatterjee calls her the disruptor because she brought in 'middle class intelligentsia to commercial cinema, which did not have a space for such personalities.' However, typecasting stifled her. As her long-time friend and theatre legend Sohag Sen says, 'Everybody saw her external beauty but she has such depth, a voice and moral fibre that she could have given much more to acting.' Theatreperson Chaiti Ghoshal, who played Rakhee Gulzar's daughter in Parama (1985), wonders why big directors failed to realise that she could deconstruct herself. 'She has a brilliant eye for detail, is alert, observant and does her research,' she says. Even Ray himself never used her perceptive finesse to push her as an actor. Yet in Paromitar Ek Din (2000), where she plays a TV-watching, conformist housewife of humble origins, she breaks out of the urban mould that everybody had boxed her into. That's why she never chased stardom in the Hindi film industry unlike her peers — Sharmila Tagore, Rakhee Gulzar and Moushumi Chatterjee. She returned to Bengal and then directed Rakhee and Moushumi in her seminal works Parama and Goynar Baksho (2013), gifting them their memorable characters in the process. She even congratulated Tagore for letting go of her barriers as an actor in her latest film Puratawn (2025). 'Self-believing, yes but she has a really warm heart and wouldn't judge or hold a grudge against anybody,' says Sohag Sen. What she could not get herself, she gave egolessly to other actors. Long-time friend and actor Shabana Azmi testifies that Sen loves her actors so much that she herself looks for every opportunity to work with her. 'She is so meticulous about her frame that she will get on a chair to drive a nail in the wall. She knows the layering of each emotion. And much before colour-blind casting, she cast actors from different geographies. She even made me sing Rabindrasangeet in Sonata (2017). And she got all this done with her quaint English,' laughs Azmi. Actor-producer Rituparna Sengupta doesn't mind the rigours of Sen's acting workshops or her trial and error approach. 'She chiselled me as an actor but my takeaway is her self-starter spirit,' she says. As a director, Sen let her women protagonists explore the full arc of human experience, from isolation to desire and individual agency. Sen wrote 36 Chowringhee Lane, which continues to be a defining lament of urban loneliness in a rapidly changing world of values, at the height of her stardom. She took it to Ray, who encouraged her to make it and suggested Shashi Kapoor be the producer. 'Ray was the first to give women a voice. I love Mahanagar (1963), where the protagonist takes a stand for a colleague at work and resigns protesting her unjust firing. This when her husband is jobless. That ethical core shook me,' says Sen, who put everyday women front and centre. In the process, she has broken patriarchal tropes bit by bit, preparing her audience. In Parama, the woman recognises her desire and her sense of being through an extra-marital relationship because she wasn't allowed to find what she wanted in the confines of a marriage. That a relationship could be a transient tool of self-discovery wasn't received well initially. 'It was 1985, I faced a lot of criticism for allowing a married woman sexual choice. But it became a hit. Elderly women came up to me quietly and appreciated that somebody could hear them. Paromitar Ek Din explores female friendship between a mother-in-law and her former daughter-in-law, a fiercely contested space conventionally. And in Goynar Baksho, it is about unblocking the capital assets that women hoard mindlessly. The ghost of the grand-aunt lives her dreams of entrepreneurship through her grand daughter-in-law by asking her to use her jewels for business,' says Sen. In that sense, she has bent gender identities. At the same time, women have not always been high priestesses in her films. In fact, in Yugant (1995), it is the male protagonist who is the moral core, questioning the naked ambition and unprincipled choices of his wife. The fact that all of Sen's protagonists are relatable is because she dips into lived experiences around her, be it her friends, even acquaintances. 'My life is a school,' she says. THE ACTIVIST When the RG Kar rape and murder case upended Kolkata and got its citizenry out on the streets last year, Sen led from the front. 'At 79, she climbed atop a truck and addressed protesting junior doctors, offering to seek the intervention of the chief minister on their behalf,' says Ghoshal. However, Sen was trolled and misunderstood for taking on a regime that she had been sympathetic to in the past. Few understood that she was speaking up for common people trapped in between. 'She is beyond politics and sought justice as an aware citizen from the right authority, regardless of whether she had supported it once or not. Unlike many from the land rights movement, she didn't become part of the government's machinery or seek favours. That's why her voice is the loudest and freest,' says Ghoshal. In fact, Sen has a humanistic approach to the impact of socio-politics on people. Unfortunately, finding the middle ground is difficult in a polarised world. However, she never lets her whole-hearted street fighter mode take over her films though they certainly shape their backdrop and context, perhaps more sharply now. 'My films cannot become a platform for political sloganeering but I am impacted by all that is around me. Yes, there was an innocence in the beginning but then as you mature, you become more conscious of the inequality, injustice and communal disharmony around you,' says Sen. That's how Mr and Mrs Iyer (2002) happened where a man and woman of different faiths end up saving each other at a humanistic level. Ghawre Bairey Aaj (2019) reflects the contemporary social reality where the Dalit protagonist is caught between liberalism and Right wing politics. And in Yugant, the marital discord becomes a metaphor for the man-nature conflict. 'The ocean itself goes afire with an apocalyptic end. We did that before tech aids became available. Imagine what it would be now,' says Sen. However, it is The Rapist (2021), which was awarded at the Busan International Film Festival in 2022, that pushes the levels of comfort. In her first full-length Hindi feature film, where she reunites with daughter Konkona, she takes off from the Nirbhaya rape case in Delhi. It analyses how boys, who are not born criminals, turn rapists and whether a pro-life choice should be made by the pregnant survivor. It is because of this disturbing complexity that the film awaits a theatrical release. FINDING SPOTLIGHT But for all her 'thinking' films and unpeeling of human relationships to their rawest, basest level, Sen never got the international recognition she deserved. This despite coming ahead of Mira Nair and Deepa Mehta. That's partly because she has been a poor archivist of her work, says Ghosh who had a tough time getting rights and original film reels from her producers. 'She never marketed herself. Even Ray and Mrinal Sen would send word out at film festivals before they had finished shooting their films. Sen never projected herself that way,' he says. The filmmaker herself admits that her producers didn't own her works the way French producers pushed Indian indie efforts like The Lunchbox (2013). 'If the producers are putting their money, they should believe in their films, push them and reclaim costs. Also, I didn't have agencies or advisors to represent me. And there was zero marketing. One of the film festivals wanted The Japanese Wife (2010) as the opening film but the producer felt it needed more cuts, the entry was dated and so on. An opening film spot gets you exposure, critics, producers and distributors. The Tokyo film festival wanted it too, but the producers let it go,' says Sen. Of course, the festival dynamics work differently too. 'There's a 'flavour of the season' scenario. So it could be a phase of Chinese or Korean films, with their best work being pushed at all levels. India also made good films but they didn't get that reception, appreciation or opportunity. Of course, French films never went out of fashion,' reasons Sen. Auteur filmmakers like Sen have a tough time getting producers, who like to get a Bengali film wrapped up in 15 days to keep costs down as the returns are paltry. 'We thought OTT would give our kind some space but even that medium has fallen back on mainstream fare and crime series. Where do I go then?' she asks. I AM EVERY WOMAN Sohag Sen feels that most people misread Sen because of her idiosyncrasies and straight talk. Some judge her for her three marriages and never consider that she has given stability to both her daughters. 'She is all heart at home and a very organised homemaker. She is a fabulous cook and has done her home interiors very tastefully; she defined ethnic chic. She always says 'sorry' and 'thank you,' to everybody,' she says. Ghoshal remembers how she was a hands-on mother, supervising her elder daughter's studies and homework in between shoots, ensuring she did not waste food and carrying Konkona in her lap on the sets while shooting for Parama. Konkona recalls how her mother wasn't indulgent at all and prevented her from watching TV epics lest they stunt her imagination. Instead she inculcated the habit of reading in her. 'But when it comes to work, Konkona says we are comrades, sharing and bouncing off each other as equals,' says Sen. So will there be an autobiography of a life well-lived or a compilation of her translations? 'Ke jaane, dekhi (Don't know, let's see),' she says. That is the actor's vulnerability, the one that still believes it is evolving.