The idea, at first, was to write a series of essays about Mani Ratnam’s films. I had heard how press-shy he was, and how difficult it was to make him talk, so the thought of a book of conversations was never in my mind. But once I signed with Penguin, I had to tell Mani Ratnam that I was doing a book on his work, as we both lived in Chennai.

I messaged him. He told me to come over. I went and told him about the book. He didn’t seem too happy about it. He said, “You like cinema. I like cinema. Let’s just talk and see what happens.” I was unsure at first, but then I thought this was worth a shot. If it didn’t work out, I could always go back to my book of essays.

The initial sessions were tough; I was a little in awe of a film-maker who so completely defined my generation, and he was not used to talking so openly about his work – neither of us was interested in going into personal details. It took a while to build a comfort level, a rapport where he could come swinging at me if he felt I was being uncharitable about his work, and I could challenge a view of his if I felt he wasn’t being fully open. So, the book is about the gradual building of a relationship between the critic and film-maker, just as it is about the film-maker himself.

My first question in the first chapter is a simple one. But by the time we get to Roja ,my first question to him is deeply personal and not quite complimentary. It’s almost an accusation. But once that rapport was established, I found him open to any kind of questions, because he’d understood by then that my motive was not accusatory, but simply trying to understand the choices he’d made. It was fantastic to hear why he did what he did, because sometimes we don’t realise how many decisions go into a movie.

Take Thalapathy , for instance. The story is that of Karna, and instead of Kunti setting adrift her child in a river, we have a young unwed mother placing her baby in a goods train. But to mirror the myth, Mani Ratnam and his team went searching for train tracks that curved like a river. And this, for a shot most people wouldn’t even notice.

The book, therefore, is also an injunction to take mainstream cinema more seriously, and realise that it is as valid and as back-breaking an endeavour as art cinema.

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