TGIB-ing the dream
The Great Indian Butterfly, releasing on Sept 4, 2009
I had some stories brewing in my head. But I had not written them down. I would catch hold of just anyone and make him/her hear my stories. Some years later, I learnt in his own Masterclass, even Paul Schrader uses this method before penning anything down. His is of course not by accident, but by choice. Each time you narrate something to someone, you better your story without your own knowledge. Your subconscious gauges the listener’s reactions and keeps making adjustments in the background.
My stories had to get better, because everyone would say ‘no’ to me and I would have to just move on, looking for the next person. Initially I tried a lot of production houses who were producing these one-offs. They would almost laugh at my audacity. When I exhausted that list, I began approaching the channels directly. I hold no grudge for all the mockery I’ve faced from people those days. I in their places also would have done the same. They were all doing serious jobs out there. And they had no way to know that I was dead serious too!
At the fag end of my search, I finally found audience in a woman who was then handling a similar slot in Alpha Marathi. Born and bred in Bombay, I have a fairly good comprehension of the Maharashtrian ethos. Anita Padhye liked a story of mine and asked me to go ahead and make it.
One hot afternoon at 2 pm, not too long after, the enormity of the moment suddenly dawned on me when I saw around 50-60 odd people on the set, all looking up at me, waiting for decisions. My decisions. I had written the film. I had to produce the film because no one else would let me direct. And I had to also direct the film because that’s exactly what I bloody wanted to do! But the run up to this moment was so stressful and chaotic that at 2 pm, when time came to a standstill, I realized how unprepared I was. So, when Shanker came up to me and asked, “So Sarthak, where do we begin?”, I didn’t know for a minute, what I was supposed to say. That was my first ever collaboration with Shanker Raman.
The film was about a young amiable guy who comes to Bombay with a job. He has this old brooding man as a neighbor who refuses to befriend him despite his many advances. And one day the young guy comes to know that the old man is none other than his father’s murderer.
The film got aired one Sunday and within a couple of weeks I got a call from a rival channel, ETV Marathi. It seems the TRP of that film had gone very high and hence they were checking and were surprised to find a Bong bloke behind it. They gave me more films to make in a similar fashion. I was suddenly making Marathi telefilms one after the other. Each film made me stronger and calmer as a story teller.
Slightly emboldened, I set my sights for a Rishtey slot. After a lot of coaxing and cajoling, I even got one. This is the telefilm I spoke about in my first post. It was a film called ‘The Violin Sonata’ – about a depressed violinist’s altered state of reality. The film had Irrfan Khan and Vidya Balan in it. What a film it was! But when I submitted it to the Zee team, they found flaws in its editing. Stupid stuff, the channels are known to get into when they want to screw you. I kept changing the edit, and they kept rejecting it. A friend(?) from the 95 batch of FTII was in fact the EP on the show. I don’t know if he could have helped. But all I remember is he didn’t.
The film never got aired and I lost heavily on it. It was big budget stuff for me compared to what I had done earlier. So I had broken some of my mom’s FDs to fund the production. My wife took a personal loan to restore the FDs and we kept paying for it for a long time.
Broke, disillusioned and with an incinerating fire in the belly, I asked Shanker on a 2003 summer afternoon, if we could shoot a film on his PD 150.
The seed of ‘The Great Indian Butterfly’ came from a lot of lives around me around that time. For example, I would meet my MBA batchmates at least once in a year in the annual alumni meets and would observe how the guys were all gradually succumbing to the corporate rat races. There was a recession raging then and I could see how most of them were all heading towards emotional, moral and spiritual burnouts already. So many of them were already divorced, so many of them were already at such high places and yet so insecure, so many of them were already so badly groping in the dark for some magic to happen to them. Situation was worse for couples where both worked in corporates. The same couples who were once so much in love in college were suddenly so estranged…
When I started to write TGIB, there was no butterfly in it. I was going to call it ‘The Burnout’. The idea dealt with the urban ambition epidemic and its sad outcomes. Halfway through it, realized I was only willing to observe and document just one side of the issue. A friend pointed me to this legend of the butterfly and I immediately found some ground on the other side. The hunt for the butterfly brought in the attempt to go beyond the issues into the realms of its possible solutions.
Writing is a war. But it’s an internal war. And it’s a win-win war. The war that begins after the writing war is won, is the most treacherous one. Like a friend just pointed out in facebook today, war is not about who’s right, it’s about who’s left.
But we didn’t care much as we were not in it for anything big. We just wanted to make a film. The last Marathi film I’d done had Irawati Harshe in it. She was a close friend by then. I had told her that I was writing something and soon I’d need her for a few days to act in it. She was game and I had gone back into writing the film, renaming the woman’s character, Meera after Ira. When I finished, Shanker and I took stock of things. We realized there was an opportunity to get some financial help from a car company because it was a road film and a car was a predominant character. After a few futile calls here and there, we zeroed in on the Palio Adventure because they showed us some interest.
Sitting way beyond the office hours at the Fiat office in Vidyavihar, I still remember an uproarious session we had between Irawati, Shanker and me, wherein I spent hours discussing how I got groped by pedophiles at different points in my childhood. When you are mentally stretched beyond limits, you lose track of what is humor and what is pain.
At the end we were called in and handed a polite refusal for the money as well as for the car.
The project fell through and I was on my own roughing it out on the streets for almost
a year and a half. I will skip this part as I again feel it would be boring for most of you to know how I got ripped by whom.
Many producers came. The project would seem real and alive. Then things would again fall through. And I would move on to the next available and interested entity. At some point TGIB was going to be a Hindi film with Sanjay Suri and Sushma Reddy. Then it was going to be a ‘for television premiere’ film with Kaykay Menon and Perizaad Zorabian. Then something, then something, I’ve really lost track now.
One day, mid 2004, Shanker and I again got together and asked ourselves, why couldn’t we go back to our original plan and shoot the damn film the way we had envisaged.
This called for a location recce. So we got in my car and left for Goa with our still cameras and his PD 150.
What happened on the way, paved the way for a fresh determination in us to stick by the film and get it made, no matter what.
It was a Janmashtami day and was raining throughout the way. I was driving and at around 6 pm when we had crossed Sangameshwar, I find this traffic jam on the sparsely populated highway. Shanker is dozing next to me.
I see this truck parked in a peculiar way in the opposite direction blocking the traffic. As our car slowly reaches the truck, I suddenly see this man lying dead in front of the truck – head smashed and a real bad sight. I don’t wake Shanker up. As I cross, I see a bike under the truck. As I cross further, I see another man lying dead behind the truck! And that moment I suddenly see some men holding yet another someone in the bush looking around for help. I want to look away but they make eye contact and I see them trying to tell me something. I lower the glass and then I see them holding a boy of around 8 years – completely bloodied and mutilated. I nudge Shanker and he wakes up with a huff. The men, whose vehicles are all parked a little away, are shouting at me saying that the boy needs help and is still alive. One guy crosses the road and runs to me pleading that he has children in his Qualis and has no place to take this child in. Both of us instinctively ask them if they know of any nearby hospital. They don’t. But I remember, I had just crossed a police station a few kilometers back. Without thinking twice, we run out and lay one of our sleeping bags on the back seat as they carry the little boy and put him in. They say, they’ll follow us as we take a U turn and speed towards the police station. That’s when we see the boy clearly. Breathing with a weird groan, the boy looked like he would die any moment. His femur bone was completely broken and in two pieces, his skull was … let me not make it any more gory for you.
We reach the police station 17 km away, blaring the horn to attract attention. A curious cop in his vests walks out, sees what’s inside the car and runs inside to get dressed. More cops run out. They ask us about the accident spot and while one cop is deputed to be with us, the rest of the guys jump in to their parked vehicles and vanish in no time, wailing. The cop takes us to a village hospital 2 km further away. The moment we enter the hospital, the lights go out. It is now getting dark. And there is only one doctor and one nurse in this two storey structure. Some 25 odd beds with just one patient at a corner on a bed. We put the boy in the stretcher and bring him in the hall. The nurse puts on a kerosene lamp and the doctor begins to examine him. We ask him, what does he think. He asks us, “Do you want him to live?” Is that a bloody question? “Then you will have to immediately take him to the main general hospital in Ratnagiri, which is about 60 km from here!”, He says.
Suddenly the boy begins to scream and ask for water. The doctor warns us that he should not be given any water. The nurse tries to connect a drip to the child but can’t find any vein for the longest of times. The doctor runs and gets a stick and ties the child’s broken thigh bone to it with a bandage. We just watch everything in horror.
As they put the child back in our car, the drip comes off. It’s now really dark outside. The doctor says there is no time to redo it. We should leave immediately. He tells us to keep talking to the kid and not give him water at any cost. At the end he adds, if something happens on the way, please don’t come back because, “we don’t have a morgue in here!”
Completely freaked out, with the cop crouched in the gap of the back seat and with the boy lying behind, we begin our race against time. We cross the accident spot again. By now the bodies have been covered and the cops recognize us and realize our mission, and quickly make way for us through the growing traffic blockage around the place.
60 kms have never been so long for us. The boy suddenly began moaning and talking. Shanker couldn’t speak Marathi. So I had to talk. The policeman with us was too shocked to utter anything. I asked the boy his name. I asked him where he lived. I kept telling him, nothing will happen to him. I asked him if he could feel any pain. I would prompt him, “Shivaji Maharaj ki…?” And he would answer, “Jai!”. “Ganpati Bappa…?” … “Morya!…” Halfway through, the kid began demanding water again. Still can’t forget his simple question, “Why aren’t you giving me water, uncle? I’m so thirsty!” Shanker said, “Fuck it! I’m giving him water!” We negotiated and finally asked the cop seated behind to soak a tissue paper and squeeze drops of water on his lips.
At Ratnagiri, just 2 km away from the hospital, right on the middle of the road, at around 8 pm, we hit this huge ‘dahi handi’ that’s underway completely blocking the traffic from all sides! Unable to wait like that and watch the boy go, the cop finally got down and literally pushed everyone, making way for us. His uniform helped us through.
At the hospital’s casualty ward, as the doctors and paramedics swarmed on the boy from all sides, examining him, cutting his bloodied dress to make way, barking orders on each other, Shanker and I stood at a corner looking at the boy. The boy too just kept looking at us. We stood there for a long time. Then there was nothing more to do. I went up to the boy, crouched down very close to him and said to him, “Nothing will happen to you. See, you are in safe hands. Can we leave now?” the boy kind of nodded. We left.
We met a senior cop outside and gave him all our details, just in case they needed us to ever depose in a court…
We couldn’t have carried on that night. So we stopped at a hotel in Ratnagiri for the night. Next morning, I took the number of the hospital from the reception and enquired about the boy. He had died at 7 that morning after battling for 8 hours on an operation table!
On our way back we stopped at the same old police station to get details of the boy’s family. I had this intense desire to tell his family about his last moments. We got to know, that one of the men killed in that accident was his own father, a doctor himself. And the other was a neighbor.
I know the name of the village where the boy belonged. But till date I have not garnered enough courage to visit his mother. May be some day, I will. But I rewrote a part of the screenplay where I brought in a small boy, who incidentally looks exactly like that boy. My small way to remember and immortalize the little chap.
Neither of us spoke to each other about this incident ever. But somewhere Shanker and I both felt, this film had begun to live its own life.
Within a few months, I got a call from a friend, Parth Arora. He said he had some money and he wanted to produce ‘The Great Indian Butterfly’.
Tags: debut, The Great Indian Butterfly
Anurag Kashyap
Abhay Deol
Dibakar Banerjee
Hansal Mehta
Khalid Mohamed
Kundan Shah
Anish Kuruvilla
Jaideep Verma
Manish Gupta
Navdeep Singh
Bhavani Iyer
D. Santosh
Onir
Ashvin Kumar
Ramu Ramanathan
Sudhir Mishra
Pankaj Advani
Revathy
Saurabh Shukla
Shilpa Shukla
Sujoy Ghosh
Suparn Verma
Santosh Sivan
Shashank Ghosh
Shivajee
Pavan Kaul
Partho Sen-Gupta
Prroshant Naryannan
Sam Langoria
Satish Kasetty
“But somewhere Shanker and I both felt, this film had begun to live its own life.”
That actually holds true for most of the movies. The struggle and the thought process that goes into making a film is unique for every movie. Thanks for giving us a sneak peak into it. Good luck for TGIB.
Fuck! What a tragically beautiful post..I could almost visualize the entire scene in front of my eyes..Kudos Sarthak, kudos. Will look forward to TGIB…sounds very promising. Glad to see Aamir, Sandhya & Barry John (of all people!) in the line up. And hope some channel finally airs ‘The Violin Sonata’ – Irfan and Vidya together is a pretty intriguing cast too..More power to you!
Good going Sarthak. . . by some quirk of circumstance our fates seem to be karmically connected . . . this is a battle we have been fighting together for over two years now… all the best for 4th September . . .
Beautiful post on a rather tragic incident. Your writing skills are amazing. With White Feather supporting the venture, I hope all your hardships comes to an end. Will definitely catch TGIB.
It seems more tragic now, than it did then. That is the power of a story well told. Sarthak always had a huge talent for that. There was something indisputable, transparent, yet not ominous about what was happening. That’s the way i saw it.
I think the triumph in this was to somewhere not doubt the authenticity of what one was doing…. especially when everyone else was.
I wish you all the success in your work. Cheers!
Sarthak-Now I’m all the more eager to watch TGIB.amazingly well written post- it was almost like visualizing the whole thing in front of me.Do tell us how you managed to get John Barry for the movie.And yes why dont you try to get ‘The Violin Sonata’ aired now.With so many channels these days and with a superb cast – I’m sure quite a few would be interested in it now.Keep the flow going!!!
Glad to see you back after a brief hiatus! Keep writing. Find your butterfly soon…
Sarthk, your posts make me realize the sheer vapidity of my life. As I find myself getting lost in the world of corporate mire, it is posts like these that me feel inspired. I think that that few people have the courage to follow their dreams and out of them a handful becomes successful. My gut feeling tells me that you will be a success. I wish you all the best for TGIB.
Well I could feel the butterfly effect. I don’t wish you success or anything for TGIB as it might take away all the glory & make it a rosy affair.
Writing is destructive. It decays you slowly & leaves you loneliest. Its remarkable about your writing, you play with minds inadvertently. I would want to see your stuff, when you make dramas. hope u do.
The story of the little boy is heart breaking. How you helped him was very kind.
But… you can’t go tell the mother of the boy how he spent his last hours, but you can post it here? In connection with the promotion of your movie? It feels like a violation of his privacy.
Why tell the blood and gore story – b/c you put him in your movie? Isn’t telling him mother a more meaningful tribute to his life?
I’ll disagree with the other commenters raving about this post. The incident may have left a mark on you and you were clearly emotionally involved… but I feel this crossed the line when used in the run-up to the release of your film. (yes, fanboys, you can flame me now)
Why would anyone flame you my dear friend. You are completely in your rights to find my post obnoxious. I just want to point you to the fact that I’m human and have my own courage issues. I have so far not been able to manage to find strength to go and meet the mother. Secondly if you read my post again, there is a chance that you may find, I’m not actually sensationalizing anything. I’m putting down things that happened to me on my journey. some things funny, some ridiculous and some tragic.
As far as run up to the release is concerned, we all are waging our own wars here. Some give up, some are still in the thick of it and some like me, feel that may be the war is taking a new turn. But the war always rages and keeps taking its toll. Whether one won it is not determined by a piddly release. The realization of victory or defeat happens at the last breath (that too only if one is lucky enough to see it coming).
Hope you watch my film and like it.
I think you mistook my point. I have no issue with filmmakers promoting their films. I think it’s great that you are doing that, and on PFC. Every indie filmmaker should do it – it’s a tough world out there, get all the help you can.
And with that in mind, I’ve read all your posts and am really happy that you got to make your movie despite the tremendous challenges you have faced.
The quibble I have is of talking about the child (I never said sensationalizing – just going into the details). The readers of PFC know more about this little boy’s last day than his mother. That is sad. Understand the courage issue – but…
Maybe only parents would understand this sentiment.
I wish you luck with your movie. If it releases in NYC, I’d be happy to watch it.
i know what you mean shripriya. i have two kids myself and my elder child is a son who is now exactly the same age of the kid who perished. even last night after reading my post my wife and i got in to the discussion of the mother and what her plight might have been – her unanswered questions. which is why i had even gone back to the cop station to find out his address. you have to be in my position to know how scary is the thought of confronting her with something that she might still be trying to cope with and may have also managed to reconcile some.
im ashamed of my cowardice but i also know someday i’ll overcome it.
and i also know you mean no malice. its really something hard to digest for a parent.
You are no coward man! What you did for the boy in his last few hours was very courageous.
Shripriya has a point but your replies to her was very mature. I like your attitude where you dont hold any grudges and handle all the criticism sensibly.
Liked all your posts. Please keep writing on PFC. Good luck with TGIB.
Shawshank Red – I agree with you. I found Sarthak’s responses very considered and calm… unlike a lot of people who are unable to accept anything but the most fawning praise. It was very refreshing and impressive.
Sarthak, I am glad you didn’t contact the mother. I hope that you don’t. She has good memories which will see her through the bad times. No mother would want to know what her child went through during his last hours. That would just add to her grief. You did everything to help the boy. Your conscience is clear. You couldn’t have done anything more.
Sarthak, How many could have actually done what you two and the cop did? Also, how many could have actually gone and visited the mother post that tragedy. I know I cannot face death, even when it happens due to old age, much less all this. And to write about death, no way. But you did. That’s great in itself and after staring at imminent death for many hours!
Privacy? Where is the name of the boy or his father or his village mentioned?
I feel this incident relates to the film, so writing about it is justified.
A heartrending post Sarthak. It’s tough not to get affected. All the best for TGIB. Keep blogging away…!
I remember reading about TGIB as one of the films in River to River film festival in Florence last year and feeling a sense of regret that I was not going to see it. Since then the name had remained struck in my mind, till I found this post about it. Best of luck for releasing the film.
wonderful post. it was like actually watching the whole incident happen in front of my eyes. and actually, somewhere these incidents do change the course of a film. kudos to your determination with the project. gives a lot of hope to people like me. all the best for TGIB.
The story of the “Little Boy” makes my eyes wet,
I am sure that all the hard work and pains for making “TGIB” will outcome as a success for the film..
**All the Best**
Sarthak, Life is all about doing acche Karm( good Karma). It always come back to help you out. Someone, somewhere blessed you and the TGIB began to flutter its wings. I look forward to see it soar further. All the best.
what’s the point in reading ur great story??i will never be able to see this film because it won’t be released here!!
Amazing read.Looking forward for TGIB.Please keep writing on PFC – aaj, kal aur hamesha.
Would love to see the telefilm you made with Irfan Khan and Vidya Balan. If i may ask, how much did it cost to make it?
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The tragic story of the boy was very heart-touching. But actually (exptrapolating your earlier posts) was expecting some more super-inspiring stuff from you, while you turned it super-emotional.
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Please do write more about TGIB and its making. Curious to know what its all about..God bless..
I just don’t know what to say.
Sarthak I do not know how the tragic experience impacted you, just reading about it makes me uneasy and numb in certain way. I do not question you for not visiting the mother, but even with her enormous pain, I feel she would be very thankful to you for giving her son a chance to live. Keep writing and Good Luck with everything.
“When you are mentally stretched beyond limits, you lose track of what is humor and what is pain.” that is so true..The comedy becomes tragedy..and tragedy becomes darker, darker and gives up to become a dark comedy. like this thing happening in my mind about ‘The great Indian Swinr Flu’ :D :(
Sad, really sad….but, Sarthak da you’ve done your piece and hope you share those feelings with the kid’s mother….
Another thing I always wanted to tell you Sarthak da is…
“Tumko jo saathi mil gaya, woh rahi ban gaya..
Woh har kadam par, humsafar ban gaya..
Piche mud ke na dekhna, bas aage hi chalna…”
(I hope its not sounding foolish)
A rock is always behind you, you will never shake!!!
I am talking about your wife….She should also be credited for making ‘your dream’ TGIB come alive on screen……
Hi Sarthak,
It is sheer coincidence that tomorrow is also Janmastmi…Curd/Milk and Sugar represents Dharma and Love and we invite Krishna with your Bhakti to come and break your soul bring out it… what happen to you might be the same as I can see.
I liked Shripriya and your post interactions… simply awesome.
With this rat (Me) moving in Maze hunting for cheeze, your post gives fresh breaths for weekend… keep writing
You have a good heart and a balanced mind Sarthak. Looking forward to TGIB. All the best.
I am sure that if the mother knows about the whole incident, she would be reassured that at least her child was not forsaken on the road and was genuinely tried to save him.
sarthak da, really heart-warming… some 5-6 mths back, i was travelling on that stretch, and now that u hv mentioned it so vividly, i can visualise which area and which police station u might b talking abt.
.
bhalo theko…like u are..
This great indian butterfly- is it talking talking kind of intellectual film?
you are mind fucking good writer…
it is very touchy…..all the best……..Love you da…..
Hi Sarthak
They Say it takes a lot of courage to be emotionally Naked- To strip oneself of everything false,”social” and made-up, and gather the courage to face feedback/criticism for what we truly are.
Having read all your Posts on PFC over and over again, I am very happy to see a brave man like you. You, ,like us all, are not free from faults, but you are trying hard to – ” use every stone hurled at you into a milestone on your life journey ” ( that quote was from Sachin Tendulkar ).
Thank you for being simple and yet inspiring .
Abhijit
Sarthak, this is what I feel about the boy’s story that you put it so eloquently: I imagine the mother has probably gotten over the grief of having lost her family. She probably has come to terms with the death. She must have found out that the boy was missing in the accident and that the father’s death would have been informed to her. She must now be thinking that her son is out somewhere, struggling, learning his own path in life. She would be chided away by the women in the village to continue thinking of her son but maybe, at some level, she is content with the fact that he is alive and may be somewhere living it up with dignity. I can see her conjuring up images of her son going to school, attending the Morning Prayer, working somewhere to live by his own terms or simply “exist” and find his own meaning of life. In a certain sense she must be feeling a sense of unsettling hope that is enough for her to live her days. Those memories may help her to find courage. For all you know, this conjured up life, this sense of relentless hope could be her reason to live life to the fullest. At this point if you had gone to her and told her the horrors of the day, she would find no meaning for her life. You would kill her hope, which could be the reason for her existence, in a 30 minute narration of the incident. You would kill all that it took to recuperate from the traumatic episode of her life. This may just put her back to that turning point again. Even if you find the courage to speak to her, I feel it was best untold. One question to you: Did you find YOUR great Indian butterfly in that tragic episode, fighting your woes with the world raging a war against you? Did it change the meaning of life to you? Your last lines make me think that the episode was YOUR elusive butterfly. I might be totally wrong but this is what I felt.
Neeraj! Are you thinking that the mother does not even know that her son too died on that fateful day? GOD! You’ve weaved a tearful story out of it. From all your earlier comments/ posts, I KNOW that you are an intelligent man. But this one shook me up!!! Shake yourself a bit, dunk your head in a cold water bucket and read what you have written!! It’s actually funny
Aarti: From what appears from the post that at the accident spot only the other two bodies were recovered by the cops. The boy died 60kms away from the village. I thought the mother was informed that the boy was taken to a hospital somewhere but she doesnt know where.Obviously, the mother must have enquired at the police station, and then was led to the hospital and then she would know. Geee.. Now that you mention I feel so stupid.
I was in the middle of writing a script and got a little carried away 
sheesh!
No problem at all!! What script are you working on? Your first one? Or have you written more? All the best with it!
Yeah, my first attempt. Very juvenile though. No wonder I wrote that comment