Synchronicities are common in our lives. Think of the mother-in-law and she walks in through the door - has happened too many times to too many of us.
In Psychoanalysis, it is defined as the coincidental occurrence of causally unrelated events and the belief that they have a meaning beyond mere coincidence.
This one, however, is not about mothers-in-law walking in through doors.
This was some years back. ‘Music Teacher’ was stuck. Few years down my Sundance win on the script, everyone felt they wanted to back the film, but I was still nowhere close to making it.
So all I was left to do, was to pray to the higher power and guard myself against spiralling into negativity.
Synchronicities often hide behind hazy improbabilities.
In hindsight, I wonder if the following story has dots that merit any connectedness…
I finished a small shoot in Chandigarh and had 2/3 days before I was needed back in Bombay. Always happy to find such gaps, I headed solo to Shimla. The idea was to move around generally, take pictures and sort my head of the despondency that was setting in with the film.
By the time I had got the idea to do it, it was already late afternoon of the second day. Yet on a whim, I hired a rickety Maruti 800 and took it out for a spin in the hills. Post sunset there is nothing much in the hills except darkness. So given the small window, the driver suggested we go to Chail. I said, “Chal!”
We were done pretty quick with the Chail palace, and soon there was nowhere else to go. Any other destination at that time would end up in darkness. So getting out of the Chail palace gates, I (and even the driver) wondered, what else could be done? The guy suddenly asked, “Sir, would you like to go to a Kali Mandir? I have heard there is one close by.”
Synchronicity begins.
I am a worshipper of the feminine divine. Kali as a concept defines the purest form of that divinity. The darkness of the womb that holds the pre-manifested potential of every creation.
I agreed. The cab turned towards a narrow mountainous path to some Kali temple that even the driver was not sure about.
We lost our way. Going by gut, twice mis-directed by locals, we finally landed at another temple complex. The light was fast dropping behind the pines. The temple looked modern and lacked the quaintness of old structures, which have a massive appeal on me. The ambience inside too evoked nothing much. The connect did not happen. Or so I thought. I was walking back to the car when I saw this really small, crumbling hut-like structure right next to the temple.
The contrast intrigued me. How can such an ostentatious temple have such a ramshackle cottage within the same compound? Almost touching it. I stepped towards the cabin, straining my neck to get a sense of the thing. I reached an open door, and though it felt odd, I peeped in.
In a very dimly lit mud room, I see a Sadhu Baba seated alone. Straight. In simple saffron clothes. White bushy beard and matted hair tied in a massive bun above his head. I am about to retract when he raises his hand and calls me in. I am in a bind. Can’t just turn away from that. So I unlace my shoes, take them off and step in.
I am still not sure if this man really blessed my film. Or it is just me who feels that way. There is also no harm in believing that.
In a small dark mud hall that could probably seat about 15/20 people, there was just a single low wattage bulb that hung in the ceiling. Near the man, in a biggish hole carved out of the mud floor, a large log of wood burnt slowly, giving warmth. Also leaving the place smoky.
The man asks me to sit. I don’t know any better. I sit. There is a long silence. I don’t know what conversation to have with him. He too looks at me, perhaps thinking the same.
He asks me, where I am from. What do I do? I tell him. A disciple walks in. The man asks the guy to make tea for us. I immediately refuse politely. My main concern is the silence and the length of time I might have to sit in it if I wait for the tea. But he insists. I concede.
The next few minutes were rather smooth. I found a beat. I asked him about the temple. He told me how he built it. He also mentioned of a Kali temple that he has constructed nearby. I realised this was the one that we had initially set out for. The tea was like an elixir. He too had a cup with me. Once done, I got up, folded my hands, took his blessings and moved out. Not sure if I’ll get exposure in that darkness, I still asked him if I could take a picture. He agreed. When I was wearing my shoes outside, he could still see me. “Go and visit the Kali temple once.” He said. I nodded and receded, knowing I wouldn’t. I returned home, and this incident slowly receded into a hazy folder of the past.
About 2 years later, ‘Music Teacher’ had a producer. Things were fluid, going back and forth on many fronts. The original script had the backdrop of Bengal. For some production-related difficulty, the producer team wanted the film to move to another state. Which meant the story and its ethos also had to change to match the chosen State. There was a lot of talk and suggestions. Maharashtra, Rajasthan, Lucknow, Benaras… It went on. Since I keep going to Himachal, I could see the story play out in the hills. I suggested we shift the narrative to Himachal. The production agreed. I did a fresh pass on the script to make the necessary tweaks.
In Himachal, I wanted to base ourselves around Narkanda. Because I know the place and have friends, who live there. The local line producers went really deep into Narkanda trying to match all the locations we needed, with the logistics of the unit’s travel, stay etc. But it wasn’t going anywhere. The search was widened. Dharamshala on one side, Manali on the other and many other places that I had never even heard of. Everyone was sourcing pictures from various sites. One day some pictures came. All of us unanimously loved them. Turned out they were all from Chail. The same Chail that I had visited two years back on a half-afternoon trip.
My script also had a small Kali temple sequence.
So, on the recce, when we were locking our locations, I told the unit about the Baba I had met, and he had mentioned about this Kali temple. This time guided by better-informed locals, we finally headed for the Kali temple. The road took a long sinewy route up the mountain through some dense forest, and when we were very close to it, it suddenly started pouring. We forged ahead. Finally, we could see the temple from a distance. My enthusiasm suddenly dropped. It looked more like an ostentatious white marble fort than a temple. We kept moving. The more I could see of it, my mind kept rejecting it. My script and the image I had in my mind required a quaint structure. The entry to the temple itself was like a royal circular driveway. By the time we reached the gate, the rain was unbelievably furious. We did not have any rain gear. We waited, wondering what to do. I strained my neck and tried to get a better feel of the place, and the more I imagined my scene, the site kept failing on all parameters.
I finally told the driver to move on. We would not shoot here. Honestly, if it hadn’t rained, we would have definitely gone up and taken a look at least. So much for coming all the way up here. We had a lot to cover that day, and the thought of wet clothes and wet socks drove the decision.
We left the temple without going in.
As we receded, climbing down the same path that we had taken, my mind kept bothering me. All it would have taken was to take off the shoes and the socks. I came all the way but did not pay obeisance to the deity I worship. The man’s words kept ringing in my ears. “Go and visit the Kali temple once…” Every moment spent on indecisiveness took us swiftly away as it was a downhill ride back. Suddenly without thinking much, I asked the driver to pull over. Concerned about what would everyone else think, I sheepishly asked him to turn around and go back to the temple. To my relief, some more people in the car felt the same way. Indian traditions.
The Kali temple was indeed not the kind I was looking for. However, the views from the top were to die for. With the rains and the clouds and the expanse on all sides, the place felt like heaven. On my Production Designer’s suggestion, I mentally began to adjust my script to actually not show a Kali temple at all, but use the backyard of the temple to capture the crazy view beyond.
We did not know the universe had a different plan for us. We went back to Bombay with this plan in mind.
Our tech recce was a few days ahead of our shoot schedule. By then the core team had known of our little tryst with the temple and my earlier interaction with the Baba. Someone even suggested we should make some time and visit him and take his blessings before we commenced our shoot. The days were hectic. We had to keep postponing the visit.
On one of the last days, before the whole jingbang would arrive, we found some time in the first half. I also had to show the people the temple and the plans we had made to shoot that particular sequence. The idea was first to visit the temple, plan the shots and then ask there about the whereabouts of the Baba and go meet him.
The moment we got in the temple I was in for a small shock. That particular day was sunny. And the sun shone so hard on the marble floor that we had to squint to look at each other. Under no circumstances could we have the actors squinting like this and delivering lines. There was no way even to cover the actors from the top. Also, the background would burn out. There was just no merit anymore in shooting that sequence there. The Kali temple was definitely out.
I was a bit dejected. On the one hand, the push-pull on the temple, which had felt like something, was ultimately yielding a big zero. Then there was no time to explore newer places. Standing at the temple, we discussed various options, but nothing worked. There were loads of other things to address too. The crew had already left from Bombay. Certain secondary casting was still going on. I’d receive auditions on Whatsapp. In that madness, a small wrong decision on casting could later have devastating results. The songs were getting dubbed by the singers because some of them were not available earlier. A critical house that we had okayed in Shimla during our recce was suddenly unavailable. We still hadn’t found a cremation ground, by which I needed a river to flow… And plenty of other things which I don’t even remember now. All I remember is, I was going nuts. And very tensed about too many open ends. There would be no time once the shooting started.
We started the shoot on 18th July 2017 and ended on 6th August 2017. 20 days. With two days in between spent on travelling. Effectively 18 days.
Standing at the temple that day, I had suddenly felt overwhelmed with a sense that things were slowly slipping out of my hand.
There was no question of going and meeting the Baba. Dejected, as we climbed down the temple stairs, heading for our cars, I suddenly see the Baba himself climbing up. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I told them, “Look, he is the Baba!” Everyone's face lit up!
The man obviously did not remember me from a few years back. I fell at his feet and told him that I had met him a few years ago and now we were here to shoot a film, but things were going a bit awry. He asked us to follow him. Not thinking too much, we found ourselves following him into a small room at the corner of the complex.
Again it was the same situation. Nothing really to talk about, other than just sit in his presence. He again asked one of his disciples to get all of us tea. I again politely tried to refuse, and he again insisted. So we waited. Had the fantastic tea and took his blessings and came out.
I was just about getting in the car when suddenly it came to me. The spot where we had taken the U-turn in the rains was the spot I needed! It was an open space by the side of the road, overlooking an enormous valley. Absolutely the place where we could not only shoot the temple sequence but also begin and end the film in.
I asked the driver to stop at the point. It was as beautiful as it could get. The mesmerising fog that rose up the valley swept us continuously. Far below, patches of sun shone the green in myriad shades. It was so picture perfect! And it worked logistically. Helped our schedule if we shot two more sequences at the same spot. Helped the story too! With sounds of temple bells, when I looked up, I could see the Kali temple from there. Far away at the top.
I didn’t know I’d write about this someday. Or if there would be more dots to come. So, for my own pleasure and meaning, I had taken a shot of the temple from this place as a B roll when we had finally gone there to shoot. I have actually used it in the final edit of the film.
We met Baba one more time. It was the first day we were shooting at this spot. We had arranged to block the road during the actual rolling of the camera. On our very first shot, we get a lock confirmation on the walkie, I call for a camera roll and yet I see a small car come up around the bend. I call for a cut and wait for it to pass. The car comes and stops near us. It was the same Baba again. He was on his way to the Kali temple. We all went to the car and took his blessings. He waved and went ahead.
I don’t know if there is really any dot there to connect, but again, this gentleman has been popping in and out of my awareness in funny ways as I worked with this particular film. We had a small sequence between Manav and Divya in the house of the character played by Divya. We shot the scene in a house that belonged to a staff of the Chail Palace. We kept most of the place as it was.
Much later, on the edit, when my editor stopped on a frame, I suddenly see the same Baba in a picture inside a calendar hung on the wall. I had not noticed it until that point.
The synchronicities did not stop here.
Post a few months of the edit, we had gone back to shoot some drone footage for the film. After a gruelling non-stop shooting in all the places, we had finally stopped post-Mandi to shoot a Himachal State Transport bus in motion from the sky. We had been trying to do it right since Manali and did not find a single spot to stop and sit for a bus because every time we stopped, we felt the landscape was not right, or the bus took too long to come. We thought we’d get something better ahead. It was way past Mandi when we decided to stop and take the shots whatever happens. Soon we would be in Chandigarh and that would be the end of it. It was not easy to figure when a particular kind of bus with the right look and size would pass us by. We asked a small unit to wait while we went ahead and looked for a lovely landscape. Once the bus comes, they were to call us, and we would get the bird up in the sky.
The road was winding. We found a small shoulder to park the car. But to place the drone and fly, it would be difficult from such a busy road. We saw a short flight of stairs going up the hill face to a place that looked like it had a flat structure needed for the drone. It was at a little height from the road. Hence we couldn’t exactly see what was up there, beyond.
We went up and what do we see?
A Kali temple…!
‘Music Teacher’ releases this weekend on Good Friday as a Netflix Original. It brings an end to a long journey that had started in 2001 when I had written the very first draft. I don’t know if the film has taught me to be a better filmmaker, it has definitely taught me to be patient and a better human being.
Sarthak, not only your films are fabulous, your writing are also very captivating. Kudos man. It is lucky for me to know you. Love your work, your photography as well as writing. Carry on the fantastic work.
Cheers,
Raghav
Je comprends mieux la force cachée de votre film à présent que vous nous avez découvert votre cheminement intérieur en restant sensible aux signes extérieurs. Faire vivre une histoire et la faire naître et exister aux yeux de tous, c'est une chose qui s est révélée être une vraie part de vous, en vous perdant dans le noir, en vous retrouvant au bord du chemin, en rencontre récurrente avec un guide qui vous accompagne de près ou de loin. Garder l esprit ouvert en tout moment et quand c'est difficile...
.surtout ...Merci pour votre film.
Thank you Rickie.
Just finished watching the film so googled the director and got here. : ) Lyrical film and yet rooted in practicality. Wistful and non-acidic, no real bad guys I mean. Looks like the film would have been complete earlier than later if you had visited the Kali temple when you were told to. Remember the lesson - don't delay destiny : ) The Adyapeath has a tale related to procrastination, if you know. Finish off with reiterating how well made the film was and how textured. Would have been good to see more from the same pallet.