To My Kunemechi…

My films are my pride. This week, we released Kunemechi: A Home Carved in Ancestry. It’s a warm, emotional ode to the rural architecture and indigenous crafts of Nagaland. When my team and I travelled to this picturesque state last year, little did we know its people would send us back with lessons in humility, community living, mutual trust, and protecting what we call home. Nagaland was green, abundant in beauty, and shielded from human greed.

Nagaland reminds me of Japan. The places feel like twin sisters, parted by nature. There’s a certain calm-an unspoken respect for personal space. Work is done with utmost care. Tools are handled with deep regard. Tradition isn’t performed; it’s lived, as part of daily life. Nature is treated with seriousness and restraint. You sense a culture shaped by the belief that meaning lies in care and quiet pride. Now, this could just be me, musing about both places, because I’ve been fortunate to experience both worlds.

Our film, Kunemechi, tells the story of Phesao, a woodcarver who has honed the techniques used by his ancestors to chisel wood. Carving logs with symbols, signatures, and stories, he has built a home just as his ancestors did-a home that feels like a warm hug on a biting, chilly morning. His son promises to carry this practice forward, using the same techniques and keeping their ancestry alive. The story tugged at my heartstrings. It reminded me of my father and me, and of my mother and me too.

When I was a child, I would silently observe my father, watching him narrate stories through his pictures. In another part of his life, he served the nation, helping its leaders build it from the ground up. He participated in the struggle for freedom and later archived the nation through his photographs. I grew up a proud Indian. Through cinema, I not only experienced the nation I live in up close, but also found a way to ignite pride in younger Indians for the India their roots belong to. When we began our Virtual Bharat journey, my colleagues and I didn’t know we would encounter an India we had never read about in texts or seen in films. Through cinema, I kept the promise I made to my father-to keep the fire of national pride burning bright. It was a silent promise, but a promise nonetheless.

Wonder why Kunemechi reminds me of my mother? Amma was a house-proud lady. She built our home while her husband was helping build a nation. She raised my siblings and me, imparting the same values that Phesao passes on to his children. She taught us the worth of a home built with love and cared for with a nurturing heart. Today, my siblings have moved into homes of their own. For me, home is still something I build with love and care. Home, for me, is Virtual Bharat-where my beloved team is always ready, always enthusiastic, always eager to walk that extra mile and become better versions of themselves.

Virtual Bharat is my Kunemechi…