Curtains down on the Golden Era of Bengali Cinema

You were cinema’s young man who showed us what it means to lose really everything in life and yet have the courage to start over. You were the jovial yet heart-breaking brother-in-law; and the proud, angry Rajput taxi driver set on an expedition to find his place in the world. You gave life to our most beloved cerebral detective who fought crimes using his most lethal weapon “Mogojastro”. Pitted against the matinee God, you were the antagonist that we loved; betraying the love of your life, you were the coward that we felt for. You were the teacher forced to turn into a rebel – the symbol of hope in the oppressed kingdom and also in our lives; the egoistic yet loveable swimming coach whose mantra still inspires us to date to never give up. As the husband who sought a divorce after 50 years of marriage, you taught us a beautiful lesson on marriage. As the demented father staring into the void, you reminded us to put our arms around our aged parents and thank them for being there. These were not just mere characters, they still live close to our lives. They still offer us the same immensely intimate level of identification. You were unlike any other.

A screen legend, a theatre thespian, a poet, an essayist, a reciter, an editor, a playwright, a painter. You did it all, and with such ardency. You were the quintessential Bengali “bhodrolok” – elegant, intelligent, charming, courteous, and always passionate about the culture. You were our very own. You are our very own and always will be. As your tireless “Abhijan” ends, the final curtains are pulled on the golden era of Bengali cinema. Forever indebted, we bow down to you.

Bhalo theko, Feluda. You can rest now.