The disconnect between an individual and the collective, particularly in terms of history and culture, can be not only disorienting for identity and self but also very disempowering, leaving one feeling very isolated and unable to make sense of what unfolds around us or shapes our lives.AdvertisementWhen I was a master’s student of modern history at Jawaharlal Nehru University in 1994, Ritwik Ghatak, whose birth centenary falls on November 4, became a lasting source of clarity and, later, conviction in my own storytelling profession.In our lectures on historical methods, our primarily Marxist faculty engaged with questions of history and historicity, and the relationship between the individual and society was explored through polemical discourse. However, this was only part of the picture, as it did not sufficiently address culture. As some of us grappled with self-reflection and ownership of the scholarly craft, a small group attended a screening at Gargi College’s cinema club on a December evening. Most of us experienced and immersed ourselves in Ghatak’s masterpieces consecutively in a single evening.Ghatak is arguably one of the most recognised figures in Indian cinema, celebrated for his intense and fiercely political approach that shaped both his themes and his expressive visual style. And to us, he demonstrated a deep engagement with history — particularly the trauma of Partition.AdvertisementAmong all his works, A River Called Titash (Titash Ekti Nadir Naam, 1973) is perhaps the one that most strongly links geography, history, politics, community, and individual life. The film was a joint production by India and Bangladesh, based on the novel by Adwaita Malla Barman.Set in pre-independence East Bengal (modern-day Bangladesh), the film follows the lives of the Malo fishing community along the Titas River. The use of the river as a metaphor to highlight social alienation, loss of identity, the relationship between humans and the environment, and the desolation of traditional life is a complex but engaging endeavour. However, for those who wish to see the microcosm of the larger river-valley civilisation rewriting history, the film captures the cyclical nature of river life, which mirrors the cycles of birth, death, and renewal.Born in Dhaka and uprooted by the violence and dislocation of 1947, Ghatak’s biography merged with that of millions. Partition haunted Ghatak throughout his life and work. His legendary Partition Trilogy — including Meghe Dhaka Tara (The Cloud-Capped Star), Komal Gandhar (E-Flat), and Subarnarekha — captured the anguish, longing, and dislocation suffered by Bengali refugees. Far from depicting Partition as a mere historical event, Ghatak examined its ongoing, everyday effects through stories of uprooted families, dispossessed women, and lost childhoods, using melodrama not for escapism but as a radical reflection of social wounds.Ghatak believed that culture and politics were inseparable. He was a member of the Communist Party, participated in the Indian People’s Theatre Association, and drew inspiration from Brecht and Eisenstein. Through his films, Ghatak expressed his anger over social injustices and the suffering of marginalised communities, viewing filmmaking as a moral and political act aimed at collective awakening. His narratives challenged both naive optimism and the elitism often present in Bengali culture, urging audiences to confront the human costs of partition and the fragility of belonging.One of Ghatak’s most distinctive cinematic approaches was his innovative use of light and shadow. In works like Meghe Dhaka Tara, he heightened emotional impact by skillfully controlling brightness and darkness — often emphasising the stark realities of refugee life or the internal struggles of his characters through pools of shadow or sudden bursts of light. For Ghatak, light transcended mere illumination; it became a powerful tool to convey memory, absence, and resilience. His wide, contrasting compositions — often tense and panoramic — encouraged viewers to immerse themselves in themes of displacement, yearning, and ephemeral hope, drawing them into the fragmented worlds of his characters.Ghatak blended epic with ordinary, weaving larger narratives with personal stories. In this, he is comparable to Bergman’s method of intertwining subjective experience with metaphysical questions, often through cyclical, non-linear storytelling. The lack of linearity is a richer approach to writing and telling history with a focus on culture and multiple narratives.Ghatak’s intensity, passion, and depth of craft have not only endured but also grown, with several of his films internationally restored, allowing new and global audiences to experience his cinematic legacy with renewed clarity.most readGermany has played a key role in the international restoration of Ritwik Ghatak’s cinema, particularly through collaboration with European film archives and restoration laboratories associated with the World Cinema Project and the Cineteca di Bologna, which specialises in high-quality restorations of classic films.Although his works were sometimes undervalued or undiscovered in his lifetime, Ghatak’s historical awareness, political radicalism, and innovative formal techniques have established him as a beacon for filmmakers and scholars worldwide. His cinema remains a vital perspective for understanding the human toll of history, especially in times of displacement and division.The writer is Head of Communications and Media, World Food Programme in India. Views expressed are personal