Baksho Bondi, the debut feature from co-directors Saumyananda Sahi and Tanushree Das, is more than a mere narrative—it is a stark, socially conscious lament for a figure deeply embedded in the fabric of Indian life: the self-effacing mother and wife. She toils day and night, surrendering every dream and personal aspiration to uphold the well-being of her family, her existence shaped by relentless sacrifice. The film dissects with precision the oppressive family structure, portraying it as an insidious trap that tightens around its protagonist, gradually constricting her life. Her sacrifices, silent complicity, and the slow erosion of her desires are rendered with an unrelenting somberness, yet one suffused with a deeply felt sadness. Years of unacknowledged labour pass in a state of dreary, workaholic misery, her pain almost invisible within the rhythms of daily life. But Sahi and Das do not merely present suffering—they craft a sensitive tale, where sorrow, beauty, pain, and resilience are inextricably intertwined. The result is a film vibrant in its realistic vision capturing both the quiet tragedy and the enduring strength of its protagonist.
Baksho Bondi’s premise, seemingly simple and spare, unfolds in the locale of Barrackpore, West Bengal. It centres on Maya (Tillotama Shome), her ex-army husband, Chandan Bisht (Sundar), and their teenage son, Debu (Sayan Karmakar). Maya’s life is a relentless cycle of toil—cleaning houses, working on a chicken farm, ironing laundry—all to keep her family afloat. Their situation is further complicated by Sundar’s PTSD, which makes him a target of ridicule in the neighbourhood. Debu, torn between love and embarrassment for his troubled father, endures this humiliation. Isolated by her family’s disapproval of her marriage to Sundar, Maya finds little support. Desperate for stability, she implores Sundar to find work, but he resists, retreating further into his shell. His sudden disappearance one night plunges Maya and Debu into a crisis, forcing them to confront not only the fragility of their family bonds but also the harsh realities of survival in a world that seems determined to break them.
Rooting the film in the specific milieu of a suburban town allows Sahi and Das to tap into tragically universal notions of feeling invisible or ineffectual in the daily struggle for survival. While the film illustrates how Maya’s hardships stem from her determined and courageous choices, which invite societal antagonism, it remains primarily a character study. Despite going against the grain of human interest narratives, Maya’s motivations are not hard to define. She wants her son to study at the best coaching centre, but her employer makes her aware of her financial status and suggests that she get her son driving lessons instead. The hurt from this bitter realization is acute and reflects how class division shapes one’s opportunities and aspirations. Maya had a glorious past. As she visits her school office and recognizes the trophy she won as part of a team, the glee that appears on her face gives us a piteous insight into her past achievements. But destiny has since shifted her path, and the joy she once felt has now become a reminder of the distance between her former self and the woman she has become—trapped by circumstances that no longer align with her once-hopeful future.
On the surface, Sundar’s character bears the debilitating weight of trauma from his time in the Indian army, subtly revealed in his reaction to a manual razor at a man’s salon—an object that inexplicably triggers painful memories. Seeking solace, he finds it in collecting frogs, supplying them to major colleges in Kolkata, to preserve some semblance of purpose amidst his commotion. However, his reckless spending on alcohol with a worthless friend drains their finances and repeatedly places Maya and Debu in uncomfortable, embarrassing situations. Under such demotivating circumstances, Debu, deprived of parental support and stability, seeks refuge in his dance rehearsals. Through dance, he finds a rare sense of purpose and an escape from his tumultuous life at home. In this context, the family, where transitions between their battles are shaped by fleeting moments of respite amidst overwhelming adversity, becomes the crucible where each character navigates their coping mechanisms. Tender moments shared between Maya and Sundar, whether it’s her refreshing her Hindi vocabulary or the quiet intimacy of clicking a photo together in the studio, speak volumes about their once-illustrious past, filled with shared memories of better times before trauma and hardship clouded their lives.
Sahi’s screenplay based on a story by Das, stresses Maya’s patience and compassion by making the viewers feel every second, while the film’s realist credentials are emphasized by forgoing score in favor of moody elemental sound design by Gautam Nair. Sahi, who is also the cinematographer, transforms the confined spaces of Maya’s home into a series of tableaux encompassing the family’s domestic life. Das, who edited the film, further enhances this sense of confinement through carefully paced editing, allowing us to linger in these moments and absorb their emotional weight.
Quietly enigmatic, Tillotama Shome projects an air of decency that draws us into Maya’s compromised situation. She provides the character with such humanity that we cannot help but empathize with her plight. The question of whether this “shadow-boxed” woman remains in this hopeless situation due to a lack of options or a conscious choice adds a lingering layer of ambiguity to this powerful piece of social realism. Chandan Bisht’s portrayal of Sundar is both vulnerable and deeply moving. He embodies the character’s internal struggle with distressing authenticity, conveying the torment of a man imprisoned within his psychological state, yearning to express his pain. Sayan Karmakar deserves mention for his sensitive portrayal of a son coping in an adult world devoid of understanding and marked by chaos.
As the end credits roll, Baksho Bondi emerges as a luminous counterpoint to the modern disenchantment of a society steeped in disenchantment and callousness. In doing so, it captures the essence of pure human emotion with breathtaking clarity, ending with a brief yet poignant flash of optimism and standing as a reminder of the understated power of cinematic storytelling.
Baksho Bondi premiered in the Perspectives competition at the Berlin Film Festival 2025.
