The Highway to Nowhere: How a New Indian Film Captures the Disappearing Act of Infrastructure

Yashasvi Juyal’s feature debut, “The Ink Stained Hand and the Missing Thumb,” has premiered at Karlovy Vary to critical acclaim. But what sets this film apart is not its supernatural premise or nods to regional Indian cinema – it’s the way Juyal distills the essence of a disappearing world into a cinematic experience that feels both deeply personal and universally relatable.

Growing up in the upper Himalayas, Juyal was immersed in a culture where the supernatural is a lived reality. His grandmother’s tales of ghostly encounters are woven throughout the film, lending an air of authenticity to the narrative. However, this is no mere exercise in cultural preservation; instead, Juyal uses these elements to explore the human impact of infrastructure development on rural India.

The film’s central character, Rajji, is based on real-life individuals – including his occupation as a toll booth worker. His love story with Santosh serves as a poignant reminder that people are still caught up in their own private struggles even amidst rapid change. Juyal had interviewed real toll booth workers for a short documentary and was struck by the humor they found in their daily lives, highlighting “The Ink Stained Hand” as not just a film about ghosts but about human resilience.

Behind the ghost story lies a more concrete anxiety: infrastructure. Juyal describes commuting between Dehradun and Delhi as a new highway reshaped his hometown, serving as a powerful metaphor for the human cost of progress. Watching workers tape up a booth “as if it’s a human being” after an accident is a jarring reminder that even in death, we are bound to our physical spaces.

Juyal’s influences range from Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s exploration of regional folklore to Scott Barley’s experimental approach to building image and sound. However, what ties these disparate threads together is Juyal’s commitment to creating a film that feels both deeply rooted in its cultural context and universally accessible.

The funding for the film was a long process, with grants from the Netflix Fund for Creative Equity and the Red Sea Fund eventually coming through after mentorships and workshops. But it’s not just the funding that makes “The Ink Stained Hand” remarkable – it’s the way Juyal and his team brought together disparate elements to create something original.

As I watched the film, I thought of other stories from around the world where infrastructure development has uprooted communities and erased cultural heritage. From the dams of the Mekong Delta to the highways of rural India, a common thread runs through many modern narratives – one that Juyal weaves into his own story with precision.

“The Ink Stained Hand” is not just a film about ghosts or infrastructure; it’s a reflection on what we lose when we prioritize progress over people. As Rajji and Santosh navigate their love story amidst the backdrop of a disappearing world, we are reminded that even in mundane moments, there lies a deeper truth waiting to be uncovered.

Juyal’s film will have an impact far beyond the festival circuit. It serves as a powerful reminder that sometimes, it takes a ghost story to illuminate the human cost of our modern world – and that in doing so, we are forced to confront the very real consequences of our choices.

As the credits rolled on “The Ink Stained Hand,” I wondered: what other stories are waiting to be told from the highways, byways, and flyovers of our global landscape?