A confession

"Jodi binodeenir opomanta bujhte na paro, tahole tumi or loRaita bujhte parbe na."

The Facebook, the television and radio are flooded since yesterday with how shocked and saddened people are at the untimely demise of a genius of this era. Some people are speechless, even.
A lot of them may be genuine, too. But after the first shock of the news passed me, the first feeling I had, was that of guilt. Such a world famous filmmaker, an international personality, a person with so many fans over the world was so lonely in his departure. And yet, he was at the prime of his career. It was not a case of the retreat of limelight. All day his house used to bustle with stars, intellectuals and whatnots. The filmmaker Rituparno Ghosh was a blue eyed boy of the society....you may say.

But what about the person? After coming back from the film festival, after shedding his gorgeous attire, after brushing his teeth before turning in, who did he turn to? Who COULD he turn to? He would have had a lot of people to call, of course. But what about the human warmth. After his parents died, was there really someone he could be himself with?
And why all this?
For a society of huge hypocrisy?
A crowd of hushed mediocracy?
Or just a show?
It is very easy for us to say, "Oh, I love his films, but watching him talk is a bit....." or "Chitrangada is a very deeply sensitive film.....hey you know, he is finally going for a sex change operation?"

But we never thought for a moment, how insulting it is for a creator to see his creation be treated like that.
I hate his period films. I feel he is too stylized and obsessed about grandeur while creating periods. But that's about his work.
I hated his arrogance. I felt he could be a pompous ass at times. But that's about his attitude.
I joked about once seeing him in the mens' room. And I hate myself for that.

I admit, its nothing new. We are much more intrigued by the fact that ritwik ghatak could hold a camera steady while completely drunk rather than how he used shutter speed to capture a drunken vision in Subarnarekha. We would much readily sit down to discuss Shakti Chattopadhyay's 'rule' of the city at midnight, rather than discuss the role of women in his poems.
But still, it hurts.
We enjoyed his creations, his sensitivity, his visual poetry to the fullest and simply gave back giggles, winks and caricature.
Its true, that caricature is the greatest tribute mediocrity can pay a genius. But then, the mediocrity should not claim they were saddened by the demise of the genius.
Rituparno Ghosh was a visionary who paved his own road and as often happened, he walked on it alone.
If you miss his films, watch the DVDs and prosper emotionally.
If you miss his mannersims, watch Meer on You tube and giggle.
But do not claim to miss the person.
Bengal, you have long ago lost the right to mourn the loss of a very, very lonely person.