What does the word “home” mean to you?
The idea of home for me is no longer about where I grew up – now that I have kids, home is where they are. If I were to picture the word “home,” it’s my little girls laughing in the living room. There’s a sofa, a bookshelf, and a mat on the floor where our dog Feni usually sleeps, and there’s a constant tussle with my girls running around, rolling on the floor. There’s a lot of laughter, some amount of danger, some amount of chaos, where the younger one, Sofia, is pulling the dog’s tail, and the elder one, Nour, is trying to climb on to the dog who is running with a ball. So yes, this is “home”.
How would you describe this type of house?
It’s the type of house that doesn’t have a very strong presence in terms of its architectural design, but it’s beautifully tucked into where it belongs — almost like it was built with that intent. It’s also similar to my grandparents’ house in Patna, in that it’s unimposing, but once you walk in, it has all these endless nooks and corners. There’s a small garden in front, a small garden out the back, filled with fruit trees. There’s a lane that meanders down to the Moira River and a 300-year-old stone bridge. I mean, a house in itself is just four walls, but to me, all of this is part of the house because it merges so well with its surroundings.
Is there a perfect season or a perfect time of the day in which you think the house really comes into its own?
I’m a big fan of the monsoons in Goa because they literally just change the landscape. The beauty of this house is actually outside the house, and the monsoons just light everything up. As for the time of day, ever since we had kids, I’ve turned from a night owl into a morning person. If you need to catch a breath and drink your coffee in peace, you need to wake up before them. So, I’ve realised that my new favourite time of the day is at about 5:30 or 6am, when the day breaks. It’s an incredible time to be in the house because it’s so silent — and so different from how the house usually is.
Do you have a favourite spot in the house?
Most of our favourite spots are outside the house. The terrace is definitely one of them. Then there’s the backyard, where, in the middle of all the trees, we have a small table with four chairs. Sometimes we have friends over in the evenings, so after the girls are asleep, that’s where we hang out. Then, just outside the kitchen, there are four steps leading down to the pathway and that’s a great spot to sit at with a fresh hot coffee.
Given that you’re a filmmaker, how do you feel about homes as seen in the media?
I always feel that homes on film feel flat, like they’re made out of cardboard. I think it’s because traditionally, homes in cinema have been sets, with people shooting on a studio floor, with walls that can move. Real, lived spaces are usually very difficult to shoot in, and I feel like in the homes on screen, you never really get a sense of the home’s character, of the lives being lived, of time passing.
What was it like to have Annie in your house?
Oh, it was bizarre. Because I’m in the film business, I’m not usually starstruck, but the kind of legacy Annie has is so expansive and legendary. When she came in, she had a folder of my photographs, and told me she had seen my film. At that point, I was just like, “Listen, I’m trying to be cool but I’m bursting inside.”
I was also just so happy to see her working, and being so earnest in her craft. She mentioned wanting to use one of my photographs as a reference, and that’s not an easy thing for a photographer to say. But I also think that this kind of openness and generosity only comes when people are secure about their body of work and their art.