KAFAL PURRAY PUR

The Legend Kafal is a wild fruit (Indian bayberry) found in the Himalayan region of Uttarakhand in India. This modest fruit is deeply rooted in the folk traditions of the region. With the onset of summer, one can see villagers selling Kafals on roadside accompanied by some unique bird call. The folk belief is that it is actually a conversation between two birds; one bird says “Kaphal had ripened, but I didn't taste them” and the other replies “ Purray Puti Purray Pur” meaning , “they were intact daughter, all intact!” This is a well known folk tale. A mother had collected Kaphals for selling at the roadside. She went to attend some work after telling her daughter not to touch the fruits. However, on her return, she found that the Kafals were much lesser. She blamed the daughter that she ate them despite her clear instructions. The daughter resented and in the ensuing scuffle, the mother hurled the daughter on the ground and she died instantly. The mother was devastated by this unintended turn of events. However, a bigger blow awaited her. On the next morning the Kafals which had lost volume due to heat, regained their shape and size due to night dew. What a cruel irony! When the mother found the Kafals intact, it became unbearable for her. Like mad, she called her dead daughter to tell her, the Kafals are intact daughter, all intact. The Vision Our story takes this folk tale as the basis and juxtaposes it with a modern day story of Prayash, a gifted but mentally devastated cinematographer. We find that the folk tale is non-judgmental but in case of Prayash, he still carries the crushing weight of his karmic debt. In the film, Prayash confronts the folk tale accidentally, but the writer deliberately planned it for providing him a spiritual pole-star and a healing tool. Visually, the film contrasts the "hero image" of the majestic Himalayas with the gritty, arduous reality of village life. Through this duality, I suggest that a modern, convenient life often lacks the spiritual infrastructure to own one's mistakes, whereas a grit-hardened life accepts them with grace and effortlessly. I take the audience through a raw, spiritual reckoning that culminates in a philosophical understanding of the story. The mother and the daughter both died in the most unfortunate circumstances but they survive eternally in the folk culture. Similarly, the daughter of Prayash is a symbol of love and union with his wife. If they separate in bitterness, the death of their daughter is permanent. However, when they come together, their ‘daughter’, in a way revives. Ultimately, I want the audience to leave the theatre feeling the resonance of that final bird call. I want to convey that while our mistakes are irreversible, nothing is ever truly lost. If one understands the loss and its process, what was lost returns; perhaps not in the same form, but surely in spirit.