For the uninitiated, last September, Rizwanur, a computer professional who ran his classes in the city, fell in love and married Priyanka Todi, daughter of a big-time businessman. But differences in status, class, faith and affluence drove them apart when Rizwanur’s dead body was discovered on the railway tracks a few days after Priyanka went back to her parents who had promised that they would send her back again to her husband. The Kolkata Police has been instrumental in violating its own rules that prevents them from interfering in any personal matters unless violence is involved and unless a FIR is lodged against those who are called in by the police. Rizwanur’s family claimed that he was murdered at the behest of Priyanka’s wealthy and influential father who was trying to hush the case up by taking the suicide angle with tangible and direct help from some higher-ups of the Kolkata Police. The unconstitutional action by the police has now been proved through the decision last week that pronounced some top ranking police officers guilty of violating its own rules in the Rizwanur-Priyanka case and acting in favour of the Todis. Venkatesh Films, the biggest banner in Bengali cinema today, decided to ride piggy-back on this case by marketing their latest production Chirodini Tumi Je Amaar, that marks the debut of Raj Chakraborty into direction, as a loose adaptation of the real-life story of tragic love.

The tone is set right from the start as instead of beginning with the two young lovers meeting, falling in love and then eloping, the film begins with the elopement, as Pallavi steps out of her house in her school uniform, leaving behind even her wrist watch behind since Krishna has instructed her not to take a single thing with her. The two rush into a shopping mall where Pallavi hurriedly changes into a young boy’s shirt, pants and cap, leaves her uniform behind and the two board the bus. The flashback, as point-of-view narrations, between Pallavi and Krishna, are intercut with Pallavi’s don-like father and uncle terrorizing the neighbourhood in search of the truant girl.

Once Krishna reaches Kolkata with the girl-friend and meets his close friend Ali, the film comes to life with scenes rarely encountered in Bengali films that are otherwise badly xeroxed copies of Bollywood blockbusters. The audience is witness to life led by men living on the fringes of life in a mess; A single toilet that triggers off a serpentine queue early in the morning, rooms supposed to shelter four actually sheltering double the number of boarders, walls covered with vulgar graffiti and stinking wash-rooms minus doors. They bandy about cuss-words without rancour but are embarrassed when they find Pallavi around. The dialogue is pithy and spilling over with roadside humour that does not turn gross at any point. Most of them, including Ali, are tall talkers who are completely unembarrassed when caught. There is one character who claims he is an assistant director and can get roles for some of the mess fellows freeloading himself with cigarettes, food and so on at their expense. He forever looks through a rectangle shaped by his palms and has a room to himself. Ali manages a hurried marriage by a priest because the girl is under-age and a registered marriage will cost them an under-the-table sum they cannot afford. When the mess people get to know about the marriage, they hurriedly put the banners up and even set up a song-dance routine to celebrate one small rainbow of joy in their otherwise humdrum lives. These vignettes of life raises this love story onto a different plane altogether, supported by the candid acting by the men in the mess. It is almost like watching a different film. The production designer deserves an award for the wonderful creation of the mess in a dilapidated old building located somewhere in a Kolkata we do not know about. And to his credit, Chakraborty keeps the film firmly on track as far as the main storyline is concerned. 

Newcomers Priyanka Sarkar as Pallavi and Rahul Bannerjee as Krishna invest the film with the freshness it calls for, making the young romance angle totally credible. Pallavi is the more aggressive between the two and is a girl to watch out for. The two have got extremely good breaks in the film and it is to their credit that they have taken full advantage of the opportunities they have been given. Rudranil as Ali shows that he is getting better with every film and should go a long way in Bengali cinema not just as character actor but perhaps as the lead man too. Gita De is brilliant as Pallavi's cribbing grandmother. On the flip side, Tamal Roychoudhury’s father and Supriyo Dutta’s uncle are exaggerated somewhat and tend to make the film louder than it was designed to be. But the scene stealers are undoubtedly the actors playing the mess inmates. They are too good to be true and are a welcome change from the usual buddies of the hero one gets to know in most films.

Jeet Ganguly’s music is another plus point of the film that almost ‘swallows’ the lyrics by Gautam-Susmit.

So, what’s wrong with the film then? For one, it is much too long and could have at least 45 minutes clipped off its 2 hour 20 minutes of running time. The dream scenes are unrealistic because they stand out like sore thumbs within the modest ambience of the rest of the film. The open-ended climax tends to drag and therefore, invites needless melodrama. Scenes depicting Pallavi’s family are prolonged and even stupid at points as are the characterizations of her mother and aunt. One feels very sad for the little Aritra who plays Krishna’s garage assistant for being ghettoized into adult roles much before he knows the true meaning of the word.

All in all, Raj Chakraborty has made a sparkling directorial debut and the film is definitely worth a watch.