Ekta Daak Aasa Darkar — “Ekta Daak Aasa Darkar” is not merely a documentary—it is a visual poem, a cultural dialogue, and a quiet revolution in how memory can be preserved through cinema. Directed by Dibyendu Porel and presented by the Forum for Film Studies & Allied Arts, the film is a tribute to Pankaj Saha—poet, broadcaster, media thinker, and mentor—whose impact on Bengal’s cultural and intellectual history is both profound and intimate.
Rather than following a linear biopic structure, Porel crafts a work that is meditative, musical, and meticulously artistic. Through anecdotes, archival clips, personal reflections, and poetry, the film opens multiple windows into the “many worlds” of a man who revolutionised the way we experienced language, sound, and visual storytelling.
Crafting a Memory, Not Just a Biography
The film seamlessly blends the personal with the political. We journey through Saha’s childhood in undivided Bengal, his academic life at Jadavpur University, and his transformative roles in media—from All India Radio to Doordarshan, from Kolkata to London to war-torn Bangladesh during 1971.
Voices of those who worked closely with him—Pabitra Sarkar, Bibhas Chakraborty, Madhabi Mukherjee, Samik Bandyopadhyay, Chiranjeet Chakraborty, and others—create a layered narrative. But they do not merely narrate his achievements; they reveal the ethos of a man who believed broadcasting and poetry were not separate realms, but deeply intertwined.
The Art of Listening and Framing
What stands out in the documentary is its rejection of the clinical, info-heavy format typical of biographical films. Porel deliberately chooses aesthetics over information, allowing shots to linger, silence to breathe, and voices to resonate. Each frame seems guided by Saha’s own philosophy—that a pause, a phrase, or even the crackle of radio static can carry deep emotion.
The film’s editing choices reflect poetic pacing. The visuals are contemplative—never rushed—letting viewers absorb not just facts, but feeling. The lighting, shadow play, and sound design mirror the televisual sensibilities Saha championed during his decades in public broadcasting.
Gifts, Microphones, and Poetic Gestures
Among the most touching vignettes is one involving Shankha Ghosh, who, after losing strength in his voice, was gifted a microphone by Saha—brought from London. This small act allowed the poet to continue reciting between 1985 and 1992. In that gesture, Saha emerges not just as a facilitator of voices but as a quiet enabler of art.
This sense of care for voices—literal and metaphorical—is at the heart of the documentary. Saha wasn’t just amplifying content; he was curating soundscapes of emotion and intellect.
Pankaj Saha: A Cultural Technologist
Saha’s career saw the founding of the Institute of Audio Visual Culture in Kolkata, where he pushed the boundaries of what television could do. He was behind AIR’s pathbreaking shows like “Darshaker Darabare,” “Taruner Janya,” and “Sahitya Sanskriti”, which brought together intellectual rigor and mass accessibility.
He believed that television wasn’t just a medium—it was a public stage for cultural democratisation. This belief was also reflected in his BBC stint, where he learned and later adapted global broadcasting standards for Indian audiences.
Language as Architecture
Saha’s precision with language wasn’t pedantry—it was a matter of respect for thought. As one speaker recalls, he objected to describing a programme as being “on” a person. “Programmes are about people,” he insisted. These distinctions, small on the surface, highlight Saha’s insistence on linguistic accuracy as a marker of intellectual responsibility.
This commitment also explains why he encouraged many poets and thinkers to treat broadcasting as an art form. His collaborations elevated recitation, turning voice modulation, breath control, and silence into deliberate choices of performance.
Beyond the Archive: Porel’s Cinematic Method
Director Dibyendu Porel does not reduce Saha to a nostalgic memory. Instead, he lets the camera “listen.” Interviews are not talking-head summaries; they’re long takes that allow thought to evolve. There is no voiceover. No text slides. No synthetic drama. What emerges is a quiet form of truth.
The documentary’s structure mirrors a poem—opening with an idea, building rhythm, exploring conflict, and closing with a reflective hush. Its power lies in this form: the audience is not led to conclusions but invited into contemplation.
A Timely Release in an Age of Noise
In today’s fast, fragmented media age, “Ekta Daak Aasa Darkar” serves as a reminder of the lost art of attentive creation. It nudges young creators and communicators to consider not just what they say, but how, and why.
At a time when short-form content dominates public consciousness, this documentary slows things down, proving that depth, slowness, and sincerity still have a place in storytelling.
Recommended External Links & Reading
To explore the themes and figures referenced in the film, you may find these helpful:
- Jadavpur University – where Pankaj Saha studied
- All India Radio (AIR) – where Saha worked extensively
- Doordarshan – Saha’s influence on public broadcasting
- Shankha Ghosh – Wikipedia – the legendary poet and Saha’s collaborator
- BBC World Service – where Saha drew inspiration
- Cultural Broadcasting in India – Research article – background on India’s public service media
- Institute of Audio Visual Culture – Overview (note: specific page may vary depending on archives)
Ekta Daak Aasa Darkar: In Closing
“Ekta Daak Aasa Darkar” is more than a film about one man—it is a masterclass in memory, modesty, and media aesthetics. It teaches us that cultural legacy is not made by applause alone but by the quiet impact of those who listen more than they speak, and who shape institutions by shaping language.
Pankaj Saha’s story, as told by Dibyendu Porel, is both timeless and timely—and it calls upon the next generation to carry that sound forward.
Also read: Home | Channel 6 Network – Latest News, Breaking Updates: Politics, Business, Tech & More
