The first time my mother spoke of my shapeshifting uncle – Matchapila – a tiger who traversed forests in dreams, returning with mysterious objects, existing simultaneously as both human and non-human, I knew it was real.
This memory of Tura, my hometown, is a source of comfort for me, and a way to understand the unresolvable nature of death, a subject that I’ve struggled with and stayed away from in my earlier work.
I belong to the Garos, a hill tribe rich in oral storytelling traditions, particularly our strong belief in human-animal soul exchange. This animistic belief has managed to survive even after the church arrived in town in the 1860s. As a child, I was driven by the image of this fantastical phenomenon. As an adult, my interest has grown into how these beliefs shape our idea of death and grief. Making this film has been my attempt to cope with the mystery of death by following the dream realm; a place where souls, dead and alive, roam in their animal form. A belief that is as good as heaven, if not better.