The Answers of Return: An interview with Neeraj Ghaywan for Homebound by Aksharaa Agarwal.
We live in stringent times and it doesn’t take much to make you question your place in the world.
Every day we face the news, and are made to bear reality, feels like a tightening of the belt. Much of what we encounter is unpalatable. Safety, refuge, comfort, all coalesce into the enclosed epicenter of wherever one regards as ‘Home’. The urge has been chiseled into a sharpened instinct, one we all experience the pangs of everyday, no matter where in the world we are, rushing to get back home.
I must admit, taking this interview was like taking a mental ticket back home. The land on which I work has such contentious, apologetic history with whose home it truly is. I hail from the invigorating, historied, absorbing soil of a land called India. The film itself is called Homebound, and the opportunity to interview Mr. Neeraj Ghaywan’s for his international Oscar entry felt like a familiar, almost familial invitation to return. Something in me compelled, I jumped at the chance.
Homebound is the first time in ages that a mainstream Hindi-language production has felt vital…’ begins Siddhant Adlakha’s review for Variety. His assessment couldn’t be more accurate. The journey that Homebound takes its viewer on is not a new one- in fact, at the heart of it is a tale as old as time. One of an unbreakable bond between two lifelong friends, of striving against the odds, coming of age, bearing the brunt of the world, and dreaming despite it all. That alone is not the point. Its vitality is one defined by the moment of its arrival, so markedly troubled; by its intention and commitment to a simple, inalienable truth; by the story it tells to get there.
However, this is a story few people tell, and even fewer hear of. In India, It is one that so often inks the pages of newspapers delivered in the darkened dawn, that all meaning of its impact fails to register. Around the world, there is no language in which the names, the lives are articulated to be faced, or understood. That Homebound not only tells it, but endeavours to, (and indeed, succeeds in) telling as honestly as possible in itself, is honorable. That the film has garnered international attention already- with the involvement of Martin Scorsese, it being premiered at Cannes, and having entered into the Oscar race- cements the scope of its contribution to the ongoing global dialogue on division, injustice, cruelty and suffering.
Speaking with Mr. Ghaywan then, was a strange step back to that place which does not go away. Like asking a neighbour for a cup of sugar, the questions felt not only urgent, but personal. To ask him about his own journey into the realm of cinema, which now seemed like a secondary meeting ground, felt like the most obvious way to break the ice.
A personal interest drew him to passionforcinema.com, now an invite only blog, where he began to engage, then write, and would eventually meet Bollywood mogul Anurag Kashyap. He would go on to work as an Assistant Director on the highly acclaimed Gangs of Wasseypur, an odyssey of epic proportions, hailed by Danny Bowes as ‘worthy of discussion alongside (the) Godfather films…’ establishing his place in world Cinema. His debut directorial feature, Masaan, screened at the Un Certain Regard selection at the Cannes film festival in 2015, winning the FIPRESCI and Promising Future Prizes. Across his works, he chooses to deal with themes of societal stigma, exclusion, prejudice, weaving the narratives with an undeniable, overwhelming human core of reckoning.
‘I was trying to look for a safe option,’ he admitted. ‘One wants to earn the Ivy league paycheck that you used to get….I realised that it’s not possible. So I quit my job…’ the rest is a history continuing to be written.
Considering your own journey, I responded, what would you say to push someone who is in the position you were in then, to follow their passions? There was a part of me that depended on his answer, too.
‘You can’t two-time,’ he warned almost immediately, and it seemed imperative that he get that out of the way. ‘That’s the first thing that I would say.’ He went on. ‘As us writers, and directors, one life isn’t enough…it’s not a pastime. It’s not like operational work, where you can apply….procedure, and you will get it.’ He was getting closer to a fundamental principle. ‘The most important thing that I will say is, to retain honesty. To make your first films, you have to search from within. Personal films are the best films, as first films, because that’s how you establish your voice as a filmmaker.’ He has been open about his personal connection to the subject matter of all his works. He encourages others to do the same. It has also been noted that his works deal predominantly with social and political, if not also universal themes.
Perhaps the most crucial takeaway is an oft-forgotten, albeit obvious fact- that both are one and the same. The lines we draw across or between are in our mind, and anyone is, at any given time, a myriad of identities all at once. In the expression of unfiltered, uncensored truth, we can hope to begin remembering this. When we regard the truth with eyes open wide, we cannot ignore that which we share and must draw on in distressing times- each other.
This most recent work is based on a very illuminating New York Times article from 2020 (Peer, Basharat, ‘Taking Amrit Home’, The New York Times, ( New York: 2020) Section SR, Page 4). It details the blatant and harrowing account of lives forever changed by a silent, yet pervasive calcification of discrimination. I wanted to know more about how an opinion piece on such events could spark such an enjoyable, even adorable film. Can you walk us through the genesis of Homebound? I asked.
‘See, I knew about Basharat Peer…but it truly came around when our producer, Somen Mishra, introduced me to this article….it was based on a true story…I was extremely moved by the piece. It gave me an avenue to tell stories about people who generally are not spoken (of) in traditional media, or not shown with absolute honesty on screen.’
The connection he was drawing was clear. The screen is the mirror, and what it reflects is a reality based on a distinct departure, if not a perversion, of the truth. Conversely, if the mirror could reflect a picture of bare truth- albeit composed and put together- it might just stir some change in the real world peering at it. From here he spoke in rapid association.
‘This was a way to humanise most marginalised communities when they’re always spoken of in statistics. The urban world speaks of them in numbers- because it’s easier to talk about it, because it makes us feel less guilty. Constantly, we keep hearing, ‘million migrant workers’. We pick two out of those. Speak about their lives, see where they live, what they eat, how they love and what their friends are like. What dreams do they have? How do their dreams get shattered?’
What he was also asking was, how different are we really? These human fundamentals and motivations are so intrinsic, so common, that to list them is to state the obvious. So are we all that different? And then came his next question. ‘What made them leave?’
Returning to the idea of well, return, the shared, intensified urgency of it. The proposition of fleeing, in comparison, seemed unfathomable. It took me aback. I had to remind myself of what it even meant.
‘With the conduit of friendship, I thought that was a very good way to talk about things…what’s happening around the world, and…how it’s… people failing people.’ He goes on. ‘We need to inculcate empathy…that’s most essential right now. Having a decent, dignified dialogue with our adversities, and not hating on each other.’
I followed on, as he had already begun to answer my next question. The narrative of this film already draws on so many intersectional issues within the boundary of the Indian subcontinent. The scope of the film though, is global. I asked him if there was anything else he was hoping audiences would bring to, if not take from, the film.
‘Friendship is such a universal theme,’ he reiterated. ‘It cuts across…boundaries. If we can talk about inculcating empathy, that’s my goal, when I started out this film. There’s so much hate spreading around, misinformation…if we can take a step back, and just talk to each other…agree to disagree…and just share that human space with one another. That’s the most crucial thing right now.’
The film, through a simple, almost invisible magic, renders this necessity so absolutely plain that it leaves you dumbstruck. One wonders how they went so long not feeling this strongly about it, especially if they didn’t see it before. Every ongoing strife, tension or struggle between opposing groups across culture and politics, and the gamut of history rife with subjugation and devastation, is resolutely torn from its justifications.
At the heart of it, a reinforcing reminder. It is all mercilessly real.
The two protagonists adapted for the film are based on the men at the heart of the New York Times article. I asked him whether there was any involvement on their part in the making of Homebound.
‘Yes,’ he jumps in immediately. He goes on to tell me that he went with one of the writers to spend a day in the village where the men who inspired the protagonists lived. ‘It was quite heartbreaking, honestly.’ They met the family and even visited their homes. ‘They had a half-torn photograph of (B.R.) Ambedkar put on the wall.’
The wall space in any home commands sentiment and affective mood. Indian households will always have images of family and various faith-related figures or symbols adorning them. It is part of what we hold to be sacrosanct, ensuring these cherished visuals and the notions and concepts they signal are always present, to be attuned to. One would imagine that those without much to believe in would put their faith in the easiest place.
B.R.Ambedkar (affectionately Babasaheb, or ‘father-sir’) is for many reasons, an inspiring figure for many patriotic, societally and historically informed citizens. No Indian is unaware that he is the reason our rights and duties are defensible in courts- he drafted the national constitution. He is also best remembered for his affirmation of the rights of those deemed ‘untouchables’ (Quite literally, considered an inheritable predicament rendering all they touch to be tainted. This conviction still pervades and informs community practices today).
Already then, this simple visual holds so much power. The aspirations of those to whom opportunities are denied by the feeble-minded are encapsulated in the worn, yet preserved image of a man who believed endlessly in their worth, their humanity. In his time, to suggest the notion was to present a challenge, and it was challenged. All it takes is one person, standing up, refusing to back down, uncompromising in their resolution to uplift, to level the ground.
‘I thought of replicating that in the film,’ he went on. ‘So it was quite something.’
He describes their reservation, hesitating to share much about their firsthand experience. ‘So I had to fictionalise a lot of it.’
In fictionalising, I asked in return, what was your biggest goal to achieve? Beyond bridging the gaps in what was known, there had to be some guiding factor directing the fiction.
He thought for a moment, then began. ‘You know, I felt a moral responsibility. Through these characters, you’re representing a thousand ‘Shoaibs’, a million ‘Chandans’ and ‘Sudhas’ and ‘Vaishalis,’ (all characters from the film). There was the unyielding thread he was tying between what we face when we turn to the screen, and what we walk into when we exit the cinema hall. ‘These characters are an amalgamation of all the people that I’ve met,’ he also noted.
Sometimes the only way to generalise without erasing or reducing is to hold and express our personal experience of complexity in a shared manner. ‘That was my goal, to get a fair representation, also bring a balanced point of view. I do not want to go into squabbles….us verses them.’ Not only truth then, but an inner admittance of our experience of it, would confirm the baselessness of all the hatred channelled into divisive and discriminatory logics. ‘This is about realising that we’ve gone on too far, and we need to step back and recalibrate ourselves….we have to share the humanity. That can’t be compromised.’
Now that you’ve mentioned you did meet the family, I asked, is there anything you would like to say to them on this side of the film?
‘You know, obviously, I desperately want them to see it. At the same time, I don’t want them to see it.’ The contradiction is one that would be, as mentioned, obvious to everyone who watches Homebound with an elementary awareness of the reality of its climactic sequence. ‘Maybe someday I’ll have the courage to watch it with them.’
On a lighter note, I asked what he felt was his most memorable or resonant aspect of the production process.
‘Definitely the climax,’ he says. By all means, it is this sequence which at once seems like the core the entire narrative is headed towards, built around, and at the same time, retroactively bolstered by. ‘That scene was the toughest to shoot and direct, both for me and Ishaan,’ (Khatter, who plays ‘Mohammed Shoaib Ali’). ‘We’d been dreading it, and I kept it towards the end of the shoot. You know, how it happens, that some spiritual energies come into play,’ he pauses to add. ‘Everything aligns, and something magical comes out… it was purely that.’
He recounts another experience. ‘We were shooting in this village, it was two hours away from our hotel. We had only one day to finish all our scenes, in that one particular house. It started raining. Instead of panicking, I think we all started singing with umbrellas in the rain.’
There was something so inherently resonant about this visual he had described, that I found hard to articulate. Something so keenly profound, about unexpected setbacks, people coming together in the face of them, reaching into memories, tapping into the words of legends and co-creating all this music.
I pictured bus and train rides on trips where all would come together to play Antakshari, a team game of memory and speed, involving the performance of songs that follow each other’s finishing consonant sounds. ‘I just calmed down and got an idea of how to make these scenes …we managed to bring in the day. So it was great fun.’
I presented my final question. What’s one question you would like to be asked about this work?
‘I don’t know….’ he ventured, then began to talk about the process. ‘We spent four years in the making of this film, three years alone in writing, and writing has been the most challenging process for me. Direction took about a year. In the making, and editing and going to Cannes and various festivals…that was the most lonely process ever.’ He does not fail to mention the dialogue, story and other writers who worked with him on the script.
‘Yet…it’s so difficult to put yourself out there. A lot of it is…my own personal life… it takes a lot of courage.’ Beyond the challenge of subjecting oneself to response and critique, his work also consistently speaks to what are highly charged conflicts. ‘I want everyone to watch this film because…you may find something that you had lost, way back,’ he smiles. ‘You may rekindle some relationship that you may have forgotten about…and then, it may just come to you.’
With those words, the promise of this interview with Mr.Gheywan was fulfilled, and I made my return, finding that returning was just as much the journey of a home as it was the journey to one’s home. Whatever one sought or reached out for could come to them. Those displaced, making that arduous journey back, deserved to be met with their destinations. There was more than one way to get there and I felt I had met mine.
Interview by Aksharaa Agarwal.
HOMEBOUND releases in cinemas worldwide on September 26
Neeraj Ghaywan is an award-winning Indian filmmaker whose work has been recognised globally for its emotional fervour and powerful socio-political themes. His debut feature, Masaan, premiered at the 2015 Cannes Film Festival in the Un Certain Regard section, where it won both the FIPRESCI Prize and the Promising Future Award.
The film went on to play at over 30 international festivals and is considered a modern Indian classic.
Since then, Neeraj has built a distinct body of work across film and long-form streaming, often centering his narratives around caste, class, gender, and identity. In 2022, he was featured in Variety’s ‘International Directors to Watch’ and continues to be one of the few Indian filmmakers whose work has both critical acclaim and cultural impact across borders. He is also among the most visible voices in Indian cinema speaking about identity and the politics of representation in mainstream media.
With Homebound, Neeraj returns to Cannes with a deeply personal and emotional film. It is a quiet reckoning told through performance and silence — a signature that has become uniquely his own.