How two outsiders made an hour-long Ladakhi-Hindi film KEMRA
- sameeksha khandelwal
- Jan 7, 2025
- 4 min read
Updated: Apr 5, 2025
Updated: May 22, 2024

At this stage, it is necessary to mention that in our cast of 15 actors, everyone was a non-actor facing the camera for the first time. Most of them were farmers, while others worked in various village roles such as electricians, drivers, aanganwadi workers, etc.
The film was shot during the months of March and April, when most villagers come together to clean the irrigation channels, ensuring water flows into the fields during the summer. Which also meant that there wasn't much time for rehearsals since the people involved had to engage in farming. Our process involved deciding which scene to shoot based on the availability of people on that particular day. They were briefed about the scene in Hindi, and then they translated it into Ladakhi themselves. After shooting, we would revise to ensure that the lines spoken matched those in the script. Other actors also helped each other because very few of them understood Hindi fluently. I often found myself confused, worried that each scene might not seamlessly blend with the next because I couldn't understand Ladakhi due to my lack of familiarity with the language.
When you watch the film, you'll notice that there's also an outsider character. Due to some reasons, the intended actor couldn't make it, and due to budget constraints, I, who was also co-directing the film, had to take on that role myself.
When Sumit, my co-director and the cinematographer for the film, was handling the entire shoot alone with a single camera while also managing continuity and direction, I found myself simultaneously acting in several scenes, taking care of dialogues, direction, and audio. This dual role played a significant part in making it feel like achieving the completion of this film and having people watch it was almost impossible for us. Because we were in a village in Nubra Valley, almost at the end of the winters, and hardly any shops are open, there were instances where we had to travel for 8 hours during the day to Leh and back, just because a single wire of our laptop got damaged. With electricity only available between 6 p.m. and 10pm in the evening and 3 to 5 a.m. in the morning, our only window for data transfer, charging our equipment, and reviewing shots was during these hours.
In conventional filmmaking, there's usually a pre-production phase where locations are scouted, lighting setups are planned, and camera angles are decided. However, in our film, we didn't have that luxury or the time to do all of that. Making our first fiction film, and that too of a feature length, didn't motivate us much as well. We were informed in the mornings that a particular house would be available for shooting for the next two to three hours, and we had to finish the shoot within that time frame. Therefore, almost 100% of our shoot was spontaneous. Not only that, people had other chores to attend to, like watering crops, managing household activities, etc. Each scene was shot only once, when everyone delivered their lines correctly. We had only one shot for each scene, no backup shots, and there was no possibility of reshooting if we were not satisfied with our work. This was another reason why making this film seemed impossible.
Sometimes, when we took up more of their time, we compensated by helping with various tasks, from cooking meals to watering farms or making compost. . Through these experiences, we gained insights into how challenging life can be for village folks in Ladakh.
Because this was a story from the local community of Sumur, we wanted to involve people not just in the script or cast but also in the technical roles. Therefore, we taught two individuals from the village how to handle the audio for the film. The operation of the makeshift boom mic was primarily done by two local villagers in our film, which extended our small crew of two people to three!
The song in the film, which everyone loved, was written by one of the actors, Tsering Nurboo, who is not only a farmer and a professional electrician in the village but also works on reviving folk culture through music and dance. For the song in Kemra, I simply told him that I needed a metaphorical song talking about nature in relationship with a particular scene, and he assured me he could do it. Within a week, he came back with lyrics of a song that were so perfect that after understanding the translation, we realized nothing else could have been more fitting.
Hence, saying this film is solely ours would be entirely wrong. Perhaps this film wouldn't have been possible at all if the villagers hadn't placed so much trust in us and hadn't dedicated so much of their time and effort with unwavering faith.
What we learnt in the process of making this film could not have been taught in a film school, any college, or through a book. It was a four-month-long masterclass that not only taught us the craft of film better but also life. We learnt many lessons, including dealing with challenges, making spontaneous decisions, creating memories for a lifetime, and providing us with a family that still gives us hope every day.






Comments