When Anuparna Roy accepted the Orizzonti Award for her debut film Songs of Forgotten Trees in Venice earlier this month, she'd forged a victory that's rare for most women of her background.
Trembling with joy and unable to hold back tears, Roy's visceral display of emotion on stage demonstrated how big the moment was - scripting history as the first Indian director to win in a category specially devoted to new voices in independent world cinema.
That is a towering achievement, but Roy's grassroots origins in a nondescript tribal village in West Bengal state's Purulia district - thousands of miles from Venice's glamorous palazzos - makes her triumph even more meaningful.
From Ritwik Ghatak to Satyajit Ray to Mrinal Sen, Bengal has produced many globally celebrated auteurs. But unlike them, Roy, 31, grew up far away from the elite cultural influences of Kolkata and took a path more well-worn by small-town Indians - a college degree followed by a call-centre job.
It was an escape route from the pressures of marrying and a means to economic stability, Roy shared. It ended up becoming much more.
While peddling IT software in Delhi, a chance meeting with film students triggered a love affair with cinema, leading Roy to save every penny for the next six years to self-fund her debut short Run to the River.
After moving to Mumbai, she tracked down Ranjan Singh, the lead producer of Songs of Forgotten Trees, at a party and asked him bluntly: Sir, would you like to produce a third-world film? The meeting lasted for several hours, resulting in him agreeing to fund the project.
Set in the pulsating heart of Mumbai, Songs of Forgotten Trees tells the story of two women from entirely different worlds - Thooya, an aspiring actress who moonlights as an escort, and Swetha, a fellow migrant with a call centre job. Their living arrangement evolves into an intimate relationship as they navigate desire and survival within an urban sprawl.
Roy’s film is visually resonant, showcasing her commitment to realism and challenging social issues. She even wore a hand-painted saree at the award ceremony that symbolized her roots and political stance, advocating for the children of Gaza.
I am going to use my voice to talk about everything that makes us uncomfortable, Roy affirmed, clearly committed to her craft and the essential truths it uncovers.
Looking ahead, she hinted at potential sequels or prequels to her acclaimed film but firmly stated she will not yield to commercial pressures, aspiring only to create films that accurately reflect the world around us, even if they disturb.
