This is a tough morning. As I watch the dark seas gently find colour from my kitchen and see the stirrings of another morning, I realise that after today I will turn into a pumpkin, from movie princess to plain ole Cinderella doing her everyday ordinary chores.

The magic that uplifted me to feel — what a maid from an upper class neighborhood felt, what a monster feels when she swims under the stars, what a man feels when he watches the love of his life walk away from him, what a priest feels when he realises he’s struggling with his faith — is now going to vanish like the darkness over Mumbai.

Once upon a time, the opening and closing films of the festival used to be the only time I have seen journalists turn into supplicants: please include me in the invitee list. It was worth standing by the red carpet, actually ogling the stars, the directors and even clapping hard for the organising committee. Today, everything has become so commercial, one has run around like a headless chicken (or a pig at a feast) finishing a film and getting into the queue for the next.

No more languid happiness, the joy of moving from one screening to the other after having discussed with friends (or complete strangers) the best parts of the film over tea or even a glass of wine. But I sound crotchety and ancient. I have been greedy, happy to watch films back to back, not wanting to overhear silly things like, ‘Roma sounds like it should be in Rome, no? Why are they speaking Spanish?’ I have loved the magic of films.

This is the first film of the last day, I realise that the crowds are not sparse, Faroukh the security guy, Dipali the uniformed security girl who has checked my bag umpteen times, the two lads from BookMyShow (Viral and Jagdish) who have swiped my card to check my booking, probably did not go home for the last six days, the ushers at Regal (their duty is 9 hours a day), they’re all still doing their jobs happily. Making film-watching a pleasurable experience for us.

Boy Erased and now The Miseducation of Cameron Post. Our filmmakers are showing us how subjects have changed. We need to pay attention to our children. Do we communicate? Do we really know how they feel? What dilemmas do they go face? In India, where everything is swept under the carpet, are we even ready to acknowledge that our children might have a Finsta account and not just the happy-happy-joy-joy selfie social media profile? American films are exploring more, their middle-class values dictated by their faith can be just as repressive as our ‘Log Kya Kahenge’ mantra.

This is going to be a very long film, and I am sure I will be shaken at how cruel we parents can be to the kids. Are we really the Disney Villains that our kids dread? I text my child unit my love, and hope that he can really fly back to make my Christmas real. There is time for tea. Sunil, the chai wallah across from Regal smiles at me. ‘Only one chai? What happened to the thermos?’

How do I explain that a thermos full of tea is needed when one is watching films that hold you by the scruff of your neck and transport you to strange lands (snow in Korea and an autumnal forest in a Turkish village), to people who spell their names differently: Wiktor, Nobuyo, Osamu, Jeong, Manita, Kena and also Callahan. Tonight I am going to watch a Hollywood blockbuster to end the festival instead of watching Roma again.

I realise I have said this aloud. I accept a glass of chai, he doesn’t charge me, saying, ‘Aap jaise paagal kam dekhe hain!’ I say thank you to Sunil and head inside to watch a film that takes me back to Portland, Oregon, where my child unit was born.

It’s a story about a father and daughter who live in the forests, not wishing to be a part of this crazy world. Sometimes I wish I could leave this world without a trace as well.

When evening falls I will join the swell again. They tell me the show is sold out, and I wonder if I should watch the film when it releases in India on November 20, 2018. Widows feels like it’s going to be a blockbuster winner already by looking at just the cast: Viola Davis, Liam Neeson, Elizabeth Debicki, Colin Farrell, Michelle Rodriguez, Daniel Kaluuya, Carrie Coon and even Robert Duvall. I look at the train ticket back home and put it away. I need the magic for a couple more hours.

They tell me there were meet and greet with the directors, there were masterclass sessions with filmmakers, there were photo sessions with famous film personalities. I must confess that I could not bring myself to tear away from the movies that were truly intense and watch stars smile for cameras. I will step into Regal one last time. As they said in the movies, 'We'll always have Paris!'

Manisha Lakhe is a poet, film critic, traveller, founder of Caferati — an online writer’s forum, hosts Mumbai’s oldest open mic, and teaches advertising, films and communication.

Disclosure:

Jio MAMI 20th Mumbai Film Festival With Star is sponsored by Reliance Jio, a subsidiary of Reliance Industries that controls Network18, the parent company of CNBCTV18.com.

First Published:Nov 1, 2018 6:36 AM IST