Actress Rukmini Maitra sees Haati Haati Paa Paa as the film that let her revisit grief and embrace the chaos of real families
Haati Haati Paa Paa has slipped quietly into the conversation, yet the noise around it grows louder by the day. For Rukmini Maitra, the role came with a weight she felt in her bones. Her character Madhura lives with her father (played by Chiranjeet Chakraborty), argues with him, protects him, resents him, and fears losing him. The emotional terrain is simple and familiar, yet it hides a rawness that Bengali cinema rarely explores. There’s the sweetness of a domestic slice-of-life story, but it carries a restless heart underneath.
Haati Haati Paa Paa allows Rukmini Maitra to step away from glamour and into a character shaped by fear, comfort and a quiet love
It’s the story of a father and daughter who love deeply, fight harder, and refuse to let go of each other. It reminded many of the Hindi film Piku, but she insists this story sits in its own corner of truth. In conversation with Indulge, Rukmini speaks with disarming honesty about playing a flawed woman, navigating comparisons, and carrying her own memories into the performance.
When you first read the script, what part of this messy, less glamorous woman scared you the most?
The glamour you see in public is a part of my job. At the core of it, I am like any other girl who worries about her parents and feels protective of them. That part hit me. When I heard the story, the first thought in my mind was that I could have lived like this with my own father. I wish he had been around long enough for me to reach the stage in life where I could parent him in some small way. I never had that.
Cinema rarely lets a young woman’s loneliness sit without judgement. How intentional were you about showing that fear of abandonment without turning her into the “dutiful daughter” stereotype?
I would not say cinema never shows loneliness in women because there are different types of films. In commercial formats, though, it often appears more cushioned. What I liked about Haati Haati Paa Paa is its simplicity. If she feels sad, she feels sad. If she is angry or stubborn or irritated, it is visible. She feels ordinary and real. Her father carries his own pride and loneliness, and she mirrors parts of it without realising it. We all do that at some point. The responsibility of caring for a parent who almost turns into a teenager is also part of her world. These layers drew me to her because they are familiar to many of us.
Viewers are already saying this film feels like Piku from the teaser. As an actor, what do comparisons like this feel like?
Piku is one of the very few mainstream films that focus on a father-daughter relationship, so the comparison is natural. Try naming another one in that zone and it takes a while. That’s the only reason people jump to the comparison. Every father-daughter story is not the same. Once more films explore this space, people might compare them to Haati Haati Paa Paa too. Being compared to an iconic film is a compliment. When the teaser came out and people said they would watch it anyway, that felt good. I just want viewers to wait for the trailer because it will show them how different the film is. The banter seen in the teaser comes from the nature of this father-daughter equation, but the story goes deeper. It explores companionship and other relationships around them, not just between the two of them.
After Binodiini - Ekti Natir Upakhyan, which demanded historical precision, was it freeing to play a present-day character whose flaws are ordinary and unpolished?
Yes, very. Binodiini was not supposed to release this year. My filmography had its own planned order, but timelines shifted. I found myself moving between genres and characters that were intense, physical or larger than life. After that, I wanted to return to something soft and domestic. By soft, I do not mean fragile. I wanted to step into people’s homes again and play someone they recognise. I had done that earlier in Switzerland and the love I received for that film stayed with me. I was looking for something that would bring me back into that space. Haati Haati Paa Paa came to me when I least expected it. I spent almost a year going back and forth on the script because I take my time with material. I want merit attached to my films. Today, the film is at IFFI Goa as the first Bangla film to premiere this year, so the wait feels worth it.
Arnab K Middya’s films look gentle on the surface but sharp underneath. What was it like working with him?
He has the calmest set I have ever worked on. It felt strange because filmmaking usually comes with noise and madness. Here everything looked smooth while a lot happened beneath the surface. Arnab looks calm, but he is constantly working everything out in his head. He knows exactly what he wants, and you realise that only when he has already steered you towards it. The film also reflects that quality. It feels simple, but the layers run deep. There is a trace of loneliness in almost every frame, even the lighter ones.
What’s the one scene that made you stop and think about your own equation with ageing parents?
Every day, I notice myself turning into my mother. I say things she used to say, I fuss the way she did, I pack food for people exactly the way she did. I used to cringe at that and now I catch myself doing the same. There is a scene in the film where the father sleeps off and Madhura bangs on the door in panic. My mother has seen the film and she loved that moment. It is almost identical to something that happened in my house. I came home late once, she had taken cough syrup and slept so deeply that she missed the doorbell. I panicked and kept banging because I knew she would scold me if she woke up and realised I was outside. So yes, many things hit close.
Friends have called me, saying the teaser looks like their daily life with their fathers. Many women said they argue like this at home. I never had that relationship with my own father, so playing it felt new and emotional. We are paranoid about our parents; they are stubborn about us, and that tug of war is what love often looks like.
The film seems interested in how people who love each other the most also irritate each other the most. What do you feel about these micro-irritations?
Longing and loss change people. Micro-irritations usually come from a place of protection. You get irritated because you care. There is a scene in the trailer where Madhura bangs on the door after her father falls asleep. That impatience, that panic, that frustration comes from a place of love. I have lived that exact situation, so I understand it. These small behaviours define their relationship. They know each other’s habits well, and that is why the irritation feels real.
In theatres from today.