This is the best of him, and maybe the most post-modern bengali film of all the time. This is the most experimental and self aware movie of Ghatak. He made this after all the ups and downs, life from the Coffee House to Poona through Khalasitola and hence, being under heavy medication. Ghatak plays a semi-self version, comments on his artist and leftist friends and even, cites commentary on himself by the latter generation. I like this to be the final film, or maybe the magnum opus of his work. There is ensemble too, loudly does present. This is about the story of a journey of an urban artist to villages and suburb. In a way, he questions himself about his past work, his negligence to his family and the futileness of everything in front of the eternal sorrow of poor people. Surprisingly, he did not try to justify the long-done self-obstruction here, but wanted to know what others think about it. How many film-makers does have guts like this?!