Mrinal da (Sen) introduced me to acting, but for years I would wonder if I would ever make it to any of Manik kaka’s (Satyajit Ray) films. The length of the role was not important to me. Neither did it matter if my face was not all visible. All that mattered to me was the distinction of having worked with Manik kaka, under his tutelage. Today, I thank God every moment that I got to be a part of three (Ganashatru, Shakha Proshakha and Agantuk) of his films, not just one.

One could just keep on looking at Manik kaka while he was shooting. There was a certain aura he had about him. He would treat each of his actors differently — according to their nature, age. While working with a child actor, he spoke their language. With senior actors, he was a very different man. He would explain every shot in detail, exactly the way he had visualised it. If he was not happy, he would go for retakes. Even then, if it did meet his expectations, he would say, “There seems to be a technical problem with the camera, we need a retake. And while we are at it, can you please try to do the scene like this?” We realised he did this so that he did not hurt anyone’s pride, especially if it was a veteran actor that he was dealing with. He would not instruct actors unless it was necessary. It is important to remember that those days there were no actual monitors. All he had was the camera, his sense of precision and his impeccable eye for detail.

There was a stark difference between Mrinal da’s and Manik kaka’s floors. Mrinal da was very focused while taking the shot, but a fun person otherwise. He would chat with us, discuss scripts and so on. Manik kaka, on the other hand, would remain extremely composed throughout the shooting. He would talk and be lighthearted, but with restraint.

In my opinion, there were two kinds of female characters in Manik kaka’s cinema — one would be a down-to-earth, chirpy, affable and extrovert kind of person. The other would be more of a reticent, quietly dignified and more into intellectual pursuits. While Lily Chakraborty’s character in Shakha Proshakha is an example of the first kind, my character in the film was more of the latter. And you see this in many of his films — from Aranyer Din Ratri to Nayakto Ghare Baire, Seemabaddhaand so on. This by no way meant either of these women were superior or inferior to the other. Just that they were all just different, real, relatable and well-etched out.

There is a difference between a classic and just a good film. There are films that I might have enjoyed in my childhood, but they fail to engage me or entertain me the same way. When I recommend such films to my sons and we start watching it together, I may find it a bit immature now. But Ray’s films are classic. Every time you watch his films, they grow on you. You discover something new. That is how Manik kaka stays in my heart.