The Bengali film industry is accustomed to scandals, but Durgapur Junction—a crass, small-town drama—has unleashed far more than bitterness. Complaints of exploitation on set, unpaid wages, and creative differences have accompanied it to its release. At the center of it all? Madhubanti Mukherjee, the associate director of the film, who spilled the beans on the venture with her no-holds-barred Instagram posts.

In an untamed interview with Edinbox, Mukherjee—a veteran AD who has collaborated with legends like Rituparno Ghosh and Aparna Sen—brings up the Durgapur Junction fiasco, the toxic Bengali cinema hierarchy, and why she just can't help making movies, despite the "betrayals."

"I WAS TOLD HOW WOULD I PROVE THAT THE PRODUCER HAD PROMISED ME THE SAID AMOUNT, WHATSAPP CHAT IS NOT VALID IN THE EYES OF LAW—SO I REFUSED TO STAY SILENT

Nibedita: Durgapur Junction was meant to be a path-breaking film. Instead, it is now infamous for crew grievances. You had publicly objected to the production. What was the situation?

Madhubanti: Firstly, when I had signed the project as the chief AD, the directorial team was different, and the shoot dates were different. Due to various actors’ dates and other logistical problems, the shoot dates had been postponed, increasing the days of my involvement. For this, the director-producer had added a small amount of token to the original agreement. When I repeatedly asked for the updated MOU, he avoided it, and it was my foolishness to have believed him and started the work without the updated contract.

After getting the script, I told the director that there are major loopholes that need to be fixed and justified. He said he was working on it. Three days before the shoot, we got the script without any changes, so I sat with my team and the DOP at his place, worked almost the whole day and night for these three days, and somehow managed to fix the loopholes (which I didn’t sign for nor charged for).

After reaching Durgapur with 80 cast and crew members, I got to know the day before the shoot that there was no police permission and that we couldn’t shoot. We had great managers, so this issue was handled by them.

Then, from the second day of the shoot, I started realizing that the director doesn’t know the basics of filmmaking. It’s like a painter not knowing the difference between a pen and a knife.

So, along with my assistants, the DOP, and even the actors, we took it upon ourselves to finish the shoot. The climax of the film was drafted by the actors, and when we were shooting the most crucial part of the film, the director-producer was sleeping.

I wouldn’t have said any of these things; every shoot is chaotic. But even after all the hard work, when he denied paying the promised remuneration, I couldn’t accept it. Moreover, when I asked for my dues, he said, ‘How will you prove that I said I would pay you this amount? WhatsApp chat is not valid in the eyes of law.’ So, when someone not just denies but threatens you to take you to court for asking for your due remuneration, it tells a lot about that person.

Later, when I raised this issue on social media, he made sure no one talked about it, paying people off to keep this at bay, and none of the unit members spoke about it except Swastika Mukherjee. The DOP told me that he wants to concentrate on the promotion and doesn’t want to get into this. I understand everybody’s stand except the director’s. He issues a false statement to the press that I was lying and that none of my payment is due, and everybody believes him, stops talking about it, and now the film is out of the theaters. What can I say? Every dog has his day.

Nibedita: You've been in the industry for over a decade. Was this the worst experience?

Madhubanti: Worst? No. The final straw? Yes. There have been instances before when my dues weren’t fully paid, but no one threatened me for asking for payments. I never spoke about it; I’ve worked with many directors. Then why would I point Arindam Bhattacharya out? Because he is not a director. He’s a chartered accountant who has many contacts, so he gets to fulfill his desire of calling himself a director. This film was not directed by him because he doesn’t know the head or tail of cinema or filmmaking. Yes, he had worked hard in assembling a team who would do his work. Even in his other films, the same things happen. He has money, so he shuts people off, and there is no unity in our industry. If you ask the crew members of Shibpur, his previous film, you’ll know. Parambrata Chatterjee was not just an actor in that film.

"BENGAL CINEMA HAS A CASTE SYSTEM—AND IF YOU'RE NOT AT THE TOP, YOU'RE INVISIBLE"

Nibedita: You've worked in Mumbai and Kolkata as well. How do you compare the two?

Madhubanti: The main difference is in professionalism and discipline. I have worked on a couple of Hindi projects; there, you do what you signed for; you don’t have to do five people’s jobs and get paid for one, unlike Kolkata.

In Mumbai, the hierarchy with food is not there. Here? The hierarchy system starts with the size of the tea cup. Also, a junior technician can’t get coffee; that’s exclusively for the HODs.

Nibedita: Can it change?

Madhubanti: It’s difficult to say right now; firstly, the work mentality needs to change. Some senior technicians have this mentality that the juniors should also face what they had faced when they were new. Also, the budget is a major issue in Bengali films. There are some very deep-rooted problems which I hope change eventually.

"CINEMA IS AN ADDICTION—ONE THAT BREAKS YOU BEFORE IT LOVES YOU BACK"

Nibedita: After all this, why stay?

Madhubanti: (pauses) Because when the camera comes on, and the scene registers… there's nothing quite like it. I detest this industry at times. But I'm hooked on the madness. One should just concentrate on the craft; everything else falls aside. Also, I chose to do this; no one forced me to take this up as a profession. When you see your creation come alive on screen, it’s a different kind of happiness.

Nibedita: Your advice to those who aspire to be filmmakers?

Madhubanti: Pick up a technical skill—cinematography, editing, sound, anything. Though it is teamwork, a good director should have knowledge about every aspect of filmmaking. Watching different kinds of films by various directors all over the world is a good way of learning. Reading world literature can help. Cinema has a language of its own; when I was in the institute, I would watch 5-6 films a day. Even now, if I get a chance, I could just watch movies all day. But the actual learning happens on set. Managing the crew, working on restricted budgets, not getting what you require for the scene are common problems that every director has to face.

If someone is really passionate about a story they want to narrate, just take a camera and start shooting; everything else will fall into place. AND NEVER AGREE TO SHOOT A FILM WITHOUT A STAMP PAPER CONTRACT. Hahahaaha.

THE AFTERMATH

Since our interview, Durgapur Junction makers have put out a statement denying allegations, calling them "miscommunications." Meanwhile, Mukherjee's expose has lit up Tollywood, with quite a few members of the team now stepping forward with their own stories under #PayThemBengal.

Whatever the truth, one thing is certain: behind every cinematic illusion, there’s a battle that occurs in the shadows. And Madhubanti Mukherjee? She’s battled enough silently.

Priyanka Kamble and Komal Gaikwad, derided by the slur "anpadh" (uneducated), on Tuesday recharted not only their educational chronology, but also their own image when they cleared the SSC exam.

The two women Pune waste pickers were endlessly insulted by in-laws as uneducated. "All the insulting language was echoing within my ears. I wished to reply to them," said Kamble, aged 27 years, a part of SWaCH cooperative, who was removed from school in Std III. She moved to her in-laws' place in Solapur after marriage. "They used to call me 'anpadh' and insult me. There would always be fights. I left their house and moved to Pune for work and lead a respectable life."

She also began learning at Ramabai Ranade School in 2022. She would go collect garbage in the morning, prepare lunch for her son, and arrive at school by 2 pm. "Teachers motivated me even though I would arrive late because of work," she told.

She scored 48% and her husband called to congratulate her. "He asked me to share sweets. People from where I am residing congratulated me," said Kamble. She now hopes to become an anganwadi sevika.

Komal Gaikwad, 26, a resident of Dandekar Pul Vasti and a single mother, had never been to a classroom. "I was married at 20 and was constantly mocked by my in-laws for being uneducated," she added. When her husband passed away during the Covid pandemic, she was pregnant with her second child and had to work.

"My in-laws informed me that since I was not literate, I could never earn a living. But I did not want my children to have a bleak future. I had to lead by example," she explained.

She studied at a night school and obtained 58% in SSC exam. "My Std V daughter is beaming with pride when I received my results. I want to pursue higher studies and attend junior college. My teachers will help me, and I'll go ahead," Gaikwad said.

In a display of sheer willpower and mettle, Maharashtra boy Dhruv Hemant Joshi, 16, has scored a remarkable 80% marks in the SSC (Class 10) board exams — just days after his father was killed in the recent terror attack at Pahalgam, Jammu and Kashmir.

Dhruv, a student at Omkar International School, received his Maharashtra State Board of Secondary and Higher Secondary Education results earlier this week. The occasion, otherwise one of pride and joy, was one of gloom and quiet, as Dhruv's father, Hemant Joshi, was among the victims of the brutal April 22 attack.

Hemant Joshi, one more three Dombivli resident, Sanjay Lele and Atul Mone, two among the 26 civilians who lost their lives in the attack, were present at that very location when his son Dhruv was a victim of the fatal accident. His fatherless family, shocked to the core, were confused between joy and sadness due to the success of the little boy. "He and his family are so disappointed that his dad is not around to see him succeed," said a relative.

Even though he carries the emotional baggage of abandonment, Dhruv is determined on his course. Dhruv wishes to follow the science stream and become a doctor now, his maternal uncle Mohit Bhave said. "He was a very good, dedicated child all the while. Whatever he has been able to do under such poor conditions is just phenomenal," Bhave said.

Dhruv's tale is a testament to the strength of the human spirit — how, out of unimaginable personal tragedy, a young mind can still retain hope and will. His academic triumph, won in the black context of tragedy, is a moving reminder of the price of violence and of the modest strength which endures so much longer than it.

Even as Dombivli mourns the loss of lives in the attack, it finds hope in Dhruv's courage — a testament to determination, hope, and an existence that is worth fighting for.

17-year-old Kafi wants to study Political Science Honours from Delhi University and hopes to become an Indian Administrative Service (IAS) officer.

In a heartening story of grit and determination, 17-year-old Kafi, a student at Sector 26's Blind School, Chandigarh, has headed her school in the Class 12 board examinations with a commendable score of 95.6 per cent. A survivor of an acid attack, Kafi hopes to take a Political Science Honours degree from Delhi University and become an Indian Administrative Service (IAS) officer.

Kafi was attacked with acid when she was only three years old by three neighbors who lived in the village of Budhana in Hisar district of Haryana due to jealousy. Kafi suffered third-degree burns on her face and arms and lost her eyes due to the attack. Nevertheless, Kafi did not lose hope and continued struggling to fulfill her ambitions.

But utilizing audiobooks as her major source of study, Kafi worked hard at pursuing her studies and had previously attained 95.2% in her Class 10 examinations.

Kafi was attacked with acid on Holi festival day in 2011 in her home village of Budhana. In an exclusive interview, Kafi explained to India Today that three of her neighbors threw acid on her. Although she received initial treatment at AIIMS Delhi, doctors told the family that her eyesight could not be restored. "The doctors saved my life, but not my eyesight," she explained.

Her educational journey started in her village, and she turned her path around when, in the sixth grade, she was accepted to the Blind School in Chandigarh. Since then, Kafi has worked consistently towards her educational goals, always heading her class.

Kafi's father, a contractual peon at the Mini Secretariat, Chandigarh, was filled with pride at her success. Kafi has already given the entrance exam for Delhi University and hopes to gain admission.

Unfortunately, even though the crime was so heinous, the perpetrators of the acid attack are still not brought to justice. "The people who did this to me are still walking freely," Kafi said.

Meanwhile, Sumant and Gursharan Singh, also Blind School students, bagged the second and third places with 94 per cent and 93.6 per cent marks, respectively.

In her powerful conversation with Raj Shamani, Captain Yashika Tyagi—decorated officer and one of India’s few women to have served in high-stakes field operations—didn’t mince words. “We were once just buying weapons from abroad. Today, we’re building them, launching them, and even selling them. That’s a big leap.” Her sentiment captures the essence of India’s evolving defence strategy—no longer just a buyer, but a global player.

Take the BrahMos missile, for instance. Developed in partnership with Russia, this supersonic cruise missile once represented our dependence. Now, it’s a symbol of India's growing military-industrial complex. India selling BrahMos to the Philippines isn’t just a deal—it’s a statement. As Captain Tyagi put it, “We’re finally realising the power of Indian engineering backed by military discipline.”

India's inventory of vintage platforms—Russian T-90s, MiG-29s, and Sukhoi Su-30s—is less but more supplemented by indigenously manufactured Tejas fighter planes, Arjun tanks, and Pinaka rocket launchers. "The battlefield waits for no one," cautions Captain Tyagi, setting the tone in indigenous and local platforms. That is why India also is set to retire older platforms such as the MiG-21, infamous for its crash record.

Indian military might was in all its splendor as Operation Sindoor. West Asian crisis evacuation wasn't logistics—it was war-level planning. IAF's C-17 Globemaster, IL-76, and Mi-17 helicopters were choreographed with Indian Navy ships like INS Sumedha and INS Teg. "That's the real power—not firepower, but speed, coordination, and heart," Captain Tyagi claimed.

India's military doctrine is undergoing a mindset shift: from reactive to proactive, from imported to indigenous, from silent power to strategic exporter. In Tyagi’s words, “We are not just protecting borders anymore. We’re defining them.”

Brigadier Govind Singh Sisodia, the fearless Black commando who commanded the NSG assault team during the 26/11 Mumbai terrorist attack, has another mission under way — encouraging and training the youth of India to be a part of the brave few within the defence services. Being part of Operation Black Tornado which eliminated terrorists inside the Taj Hotel in Mumbai, Sisodia has previously appeared as a commanding voice guiding India's counter-terror strategy.

Detailing India's new security doctrine, Sisodia characterized Operation Sindoor as one of India's best moments when it increasingly assumed the role of tackling terror. In a conversation with defence correspondent Nibedita, he stated, "India's intentions are as clear as daylight," he added. "Operation Sindoor has demonstrated to the world that we have the capability to target terror infrastructure with precision. But these are not indiscriminate strikes — they are a part of a broader message: we will destroy terror support networks wherever they are."

Talking of the allegations made by Pakistani actress Mahira Khan on investigations, Sisodia explained, remembering the post-26/11 scenario, Sisodia referred to the failure of Pakistan in taking action against the masterminds, Hafiz Saeed included. "Even though the investigation indicated Saeed's involvement, Pakistan shielded the terrorists rather than extraditing them. As an Indian, my ego was hurt — sometimes we need to show them a lesson.". Being a military person, we had then probed, I know Pakistan will only learn when shown its place.

Responding to fears of escalation, Sisodia ruled out the possibility of a nuclear war. "Pakistan knows it won't escalate to the nuclear level. One nuclear strike would destroy them, and they know that."

He went openly on the warpath and warned: "Operation Sindoor was a trailer. If Pakistan fails to understand the seriousness of this threat, the next can be aimed at military assets. We are prepared at a war level."

Specifically, Sisodia made sure that the action of India is based on national pride and security rather than an urge for revenge. "The people are proud. We are no longer bargaining bullets and bread — we have upgraded our priorities and there is a change in the power equation."

In an exclusive conversation with defence correspondent Nibedita Speaks, Former Naval Chief Admiral Arun Prakash sheds light on Operation Sindoor, India’s evolving military doctrine, and how the country is leveraging technology to punish terrorism without escalating into full-blown conflict.

Q1: Operation Sindoor has been lauded for its precision and restraint. What does it say about India’s evolving strategy — especially in terms of not crossing international borders?

Arun Prakash (AP):

It shows we’re maturing strategically. The key is to keep the threshold of provocation and violence low. That’s the sensible and responsible thing to do, especially between two nuclear-armed neighbors. More importantly, we’re keeping our assets protected.

The distance and precision of our contemporary weapons — whether air-launched missiles, guided artillery, or drones — say a lot about the technological prowess of the Indian Army. We no longer have to actually cross the border to make a point. Technology enables us to target with precision from afar, protecting our troops and keeping escalation at bay.

Q2: Pakistan has been caught off guard for the third time — after the Balakot and Uri operations. What message is India sending with Operation Sindoor in the context of counterterrorism?

AP:

It's a message of dwindling patience. When a state lets terrorists be trained, equipped, and sent across borders with impunity, it stops being a law-and-order issue — it becomes an act of war in the fullest sense.

Operation Sindoor serves as a notice that we won't accept proxy war under the nuclear umbrella. We've maintained restraint for decades, but today we're reciprocating proportionate force. And we're doing it with professional, strategic, and steadily precise precision.

Q3: With increasing threat of escalation, how should India prepare for expected retaliation? How is Pakistan's internal pressure implicated here?

AP:

Preparation is everything. Pakistan could experience domestic public pressure to respond in some manner, even symbolically. So yes, we have to anticipate some response — that's how the escalation ladder works. The minute you respond militarily, you have to be prepared for the next rung.

That doesn't imply that we cease taking action. But it does imply that we must approach it with measured, level-headed leadership. Escalation can quickly get out of hand, particularly in our part of the world. Mature leadership on both sides is needed to prevent us from sliding into an all-out war.

Q4: Since both India and Pakistan possess nuclear weapons, is there a possibility of international intervention? Can this crisis attract other global powers?

AP:

That's always a danger, particularly if things get out of hand. But it doesn't have to get that far. Indeed, it can — and ought to — stop right here, with Pakistan.

If things do go too far, other great powers will intervene not out of allegiance but due to the nature of nuclear fallout that does not regard borders. Radiation does cross frontiers. A tactical exchange of nuclear fire in South Asia will send shockwaves around the world — quite literally and also diplomatically. And that's why restraint while being decisive matters.

Operation Sindoor is another milestone in India's continuing transition from reactive defense to proactive deterrence. With voices such as Admiral Arun Prakash expressing the delicate balance between action and restraint, India's military thought seems firmly grounded in the 21st century — guided by history, informed by technology, and directed by strategic vision.

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