Ritabhari Chakraborty on playing Aparna in Mainak Bhaumik's Grihostho

My character in Grihostho is called Aparna, and she has gone through her share of trauma in her life, which makes her excessively protective about her baby. She has some sort of agoraphobia, where she doesn’t leave the house. She’s too paranoid that the baby might catch some kind of virus, germs, or fall sick. Her husband stays in the city, and she stays in the suburbs in the UK. And because she’s away from her husband and is on her own, she has a lot of time to herself. She self-medicates and takes extreme measures when she sees anything wrong around her. So her paranoia, difficulty in dealing with her life situation, and fear lead to the point where she witnesses a murder through the CCTV camera. Basically, it changes everything from there on.

It is a complex character, but I always like to take up challenging roles or characters who are in a tough position. If you look at my work in the past, I played a woman priest in Brahma Janen, a body-shamed, plus-size woman in Fatafati, or a bipolar woman in Bohurupi, who literally comes in the way of her husband’s life and her happiness constantly. None of them are very typically “heroine-like” — bubbly, sweet, lovable — which I probably played in my debut television serial, Ogo Bodhu Sundori.

I think directors have started to trust me because I have been able to deliver what I have been given, and Mainak took such a shot as well, and I am very grateful for that. I have been wanting to work with him for a while, and playing Aparna was a bit close to home. I am not like her, and I don’t have the extremities that she does. But this anxiety of not wanting to leave your house because of your own trauma — I have been through this. So for that part, I could tap into my history, my pain, to understand Aparna better. Her motherly instinct is something I could relate to as well. Even though I’m not a mother myself, witnessing the journeys of single mothers have left a deep impression on me.

A little, yes. Over the last couple of years, I’ve seen many well-written female characters — both the ones I played and the ones I watched. In Bohurupi, my character was part of an ensemble, and since it was mainstream commercial cinema, I doubt everyone realised she had bipolar disorder — many probably just found her annoying. Nandita Roy, however, writes women from a woman’s perspective, raising the bar with every character. While female characters are being explored in more depth and colours, I’m not sure audiences always understand them fully. These women are not just damsels in distress waiting to be rescued — they are real people. Grihostho, for example, isn’t a woman-centric film; it’s simply a film with a female protagonist.

I think it’s a good move, especially since the number of films being released has dropped compared to five years ago. With fewer quality films coming out, I honestly don’t know what India will turn to for the right kind of entertainment. The films being re-released are the ones that were loved, appreciated, or successful in some way — and in today’s climate, making films has become more challenging than ever.

Mahanagar, Lage Raho Munna Bhai, and Rang De Basanti.