Mumbai, Oct 30 (NationPress) State-owned public broadcaster Prasar Bharati is poised to unveil Tilottama, a Bengali feature film crafted by the acclaimed Ujjwal Chatterjee, a two-time National Award-winning director.

Inspired by the horrific rape and murder of a junior doctor at RG Kar Medical College in Kolkata on August 9, 2024, this film, produced by UCC Entertainments, transforms a tragic incident into a powerful testament—a mother’s lament that echoes as the conscience of a nation.

“She lost her daughter. The world lost its shame. Her struggle became our narrative.” These poignant words encapsulate the essence of Tilottama, a film that confronts uncomfortable truths head-on.

“I’ve never subscribed to the belief that cinema is solely for entertainment,” remarked Ujjwal Chatterjee.

He elaborated, “For me, it is about witnessing—standing firm in front of truth when the world chooses to look away. Tilottama is not a tale I wished to narrate; it's a story that compelled me to speak. Upon witnessing the events unfold, I knew silence was no longer an option. A filmmaker may not heal a wound, but they can ensure that wound isn’t forgotten.”

In Tilottama, the mother channels her anguish through street theatre, jiban mukhi gaan, and mime, turning artistic expressions into weapons of protest. Every act serves as a defiance; every song resonates with the rhythm of justice. Her journey reflects that of Marianne Bachmeier, the German mother who took justice into her own hands by shooting her daughter’s rapist in court—not as imitation, but as a connection forged in rage and hope.

This philosophy permeates every frame of Tilottama.

Chatterjee explains that the mother in the film “is not merely a character—she embodies our collective conscience. Through her suffering, I aim to illustrate the transformation of despair into resilience. Her theatre, her songs, her gestures—each one is an act of rebellion.”

“In her tears, I discern strength, and in her silence, I hear thunder. I am convinced that when a woman stands up against injustice, she is not only fighting for herself; she restores the equilibrium of the universe.”

For Chatterjee, this cinematic endeavor is not just a project but a sacred journey.

“This film is my tribute to every silenced daughter, every mother still yearning for justice,” he stated.

“I do not create films to soothe; I create them to awaken. Tilottama is my visual prayer—reminding us that empathy is the initial step toward revolution, and remembrance is the only form of justice that time cannot erase.”

“When silence becomes intolerable,” he asserts, “cinema must raise its voice.”

Chatterjee’s visuals are steeped in conscience. He does not capture beauty; he captures meaning. Rain-soaked streets, a flickering diya, a mother’s trembling voice rising against injustice—these are the dialogues he crafts.

The mother’s tears do not mark the conclusion of her journey; they signify the inception of ours. “In her eyes—a tempest. In his lens—the undeniable truth.”