Debutant filmmaker Abhay Sharma’s Chingam tells the story of former lovers who must confront their past as their paths cross yet again years later. Abhay drew from his experiences living in his hometown, Himachal Pradesh, to lend a sense of authenticity to the film. The film takes its sweet time and grows on the audience gradually, like the long, winding paths of a hill station such as Himachal. The movie recently had its world premiere at the Chicago South Asian Film Festival. In an exclusive conversation with CE, Abhay talks about the film’s setting, balancing acting with the duties of direction, how the audience responded to the film at the festival and more.
How much of the story is drawn from personal experience or observations, especially regarding the themes of unfulfilled aspirations and rekindled bonds?
A lot of Chingam is rooted in personal experiences and close observations of life in Himachal. Growing up in a small town like Narkanda, I often saw how people carry unfulfilled dreams quietly, almost as part of their everyday existence. Many of my friends and acquaintances left with big aspirations, but the weight of reality often pulled them back, sometimes physically, sometimes just in spirit.
The idea of rekindled bonds also comes from that landscape. In small towns, relationships are never entirely left behind; they linger, shaping who we are. I have also drawn from a deeply personal relationship of separation that has stayed with me. The ache of something unfinished, unresolved, but still very present. That experience taught me how memory and longing can bind people across time, and it inspired how Ajay and Radhika’s story unfolds. Chingam takes these intimate truths and frames them through their journey, their love, their separation, and the bittersweet recognition that the past never really disappears.
You also played the lead role of Ajay. How did you balance acting in the film with directing it?
For me, the whole point was always to act; I am an actor first. I majored in acting in film school. Writing and directing only came later, out of desperation to create my own work when no one else was giving it. Chingam was written in 2022 with the clear intention that I would play Ajay, so I had years to live with the character.
Balancing both roles was definitely challenging. Shifting from being emotionally immersed in front of the camera to making objective decisions behind it. But I had strong support in my DOP Karthik CS, associate director Madhav Taneja, and producer Ajay Reddy. They anchored me so I could focus on performance without losing grip on direction. In the end, though difficult, living both sides made the film even more personal.
What does it mean to you to have your film premiere at the Chicago South Asian Film Festival?
It honestly feels surreal. Chingam is such a personal film, born out of small-town realities, made with a young, diverse crew, and carried forward through a lot of struggles. To see it find its first audience at a festival like CSAFF is a huge validation, not just for me but for everyone who believed in it.
For me, it is also emotional. I come from Himachal Pradesh, where stories rarely make it to global platforms. So, to have our film premiere in Chicago, in front of a South Asian diaspora that deeply understands themes of longing, belonging, and home feels incredibly special. It is like our little film from the mountains is now part of a larger conversation about South Asian identity and cinema.
What has the audience reaction at the Chicago South Asian Film Festival been like? Were there any specific responses or questions from the audience that surprised you or made you see the film in a new light?
Unfortunately, my producer and I could not attend because our visas did not come through. In a way, that reflects the larger reality of geopolitics today. Borders and bureaucracy still get in the way of something as simple and human as cultural exchange.
That said, from what I have heard, the hall was almost packed, and the overall response was very positive. Audiences were engaged with the film, and that is the most rewarding thing you can hope for as a filmmaker. Of course, being there in person would have allowed for direct conversations and questions that might have opened new ways of looking at Chingam. I missed that, but I am looking forward to those exchanges at the festivals ahead.
Now that Chingam has had its world premiere, what are the next steps for the film?
For now, our plan is simple and traditional; this is just the beginning of the festival run, and we intend to continue with that. And with this selection, we hope to gain further momentum. If that goes well, we will then look at a wider release and explore opportunities with OTT platforms.
At the same time, if anyone is interested in joining us on this journey, whether in helping the film reach its audience or supporting it in any other way, we would be more than happy to collaborate. This film has been a labour of love, and we want it to reach as many people as possible.
The pacing of the film felt deliberately slow and reflective, giving the weight of the past time to sink in. Can you talk about your decision to let the story unfold at that speed? Were you concerned at all about losing the audience's attention?
The pacing was a conscious decision. Chingam is a very character-driven film rather than plot-driven. We follow these characters across a significant span of their lives, so it was important for the audience to be with them in the small, quiet moments as much as in the dramatic ones.
Another reason for the slower pace is the representation of life in the hills, especially rural Himachal. Life there literally feels slow, almost at a standstill and monotonous at times, but then suddenly something significant happens. The pacing mirrors that rhythm of mountain life, where changes are gradual but deeply noticeable and beautiful.
Of course, there were concerns about audience attention, especially today when attention spans are so short. But I truly believe that if the audience is connected to the characters, the pace becomes part of the experience rather than a distraction. Spending time with these characters allows the audience to feel like they have truly lived alongside them, and when the film ends, they carry that connection with them.
At the end of the day, I strongly feel that if a film is engaging, runtime and pacing do not matter. It is about telling the story in the way it needs to be told, not bending it to conventions.
You started as an actor and then moved into filmmaking. What was the pivotal moment when you realised that storytelling became the destination for you?
Storytelling has always been a part of me. From the earliest days, it was not about films or stages. It was in the way I shared my day with my mother, the evenings spent discussing life with friends, the little school competitions where I acted or sang. Acting came first, but gradually I realised that to truly tell the stories I cared about, I needed to write, to direct, to explore every form of expression.
It is not about a single moment of decision, it is a lifelong journey. Every song I sing, every film I make, every story I share is a way to connect, to capture life, and to keep people engaged in the world as I see it. And the truth is, when I tell a story in any form and someone feels something from it, I experience a pure, unshakable joy. The connection, that shared feeling, is the deepest satisfaction I can imagine. Storytelling is not just what I do; it is the lens through which I live, feel, and understand everything around me.
How did growing up in Himachal influence your choices in the film?
Growing up in Himachal may have shaped me in ways I cannot always pinpoint, but what truly guides me as a filmmaker is the cinema I love and aspire to create. For me, a film is defined by its story, the emotions it carries, and the journey of its characters. Everything else like genre, style, mood comes second. What matters most is honesty, authenticity, and clarity of intent.
When I make a film, I ask myself: does it stay true to its own purpose? Does it allow the characters and their emotions to lead, rather than imposing something artificial or pretentious? If the answer is yes, then it resonates, with me, with the audience, and with life itself. That principle guides every choice I make, from writing and directing to performing, and it is the lens through which I try to approach all cinema.
To sum it up, life in Himachal is raw, real, and deeply connected to its roots, there is no pretense. I think that core truth, that unfiltered emotion of life there, naturally finds its way into the films I make. It shapes the honesty I seek in stories, characters, and the emotions I try to capture on screen.
What was it like bringing together a cast with such diverse backgrounds to tell a story so specific to Himachal?
Almost the entire cast of Chingam is from Himachal, which was important to me for authenticity, but we did bring in two actors from outside the state — Swati from Uttarakhand and Akhil from Jammu. For Radhika’s character, I was looking for something very specific, and Swati fit that vision perfectly. Her audition was strong, and coming from the mountains herself, she understood the subtleties and sensibilities of Himachali life, which made her a natural choice.
Akhil, on the other hand, is my college batchmate. We trained together in acting, share a deep bond, and have a comfort on screen that comes from years of friendship. He has a remarkable instinct for understanding and embodying a character, and he embraced the nuances of the Himachali context with exceptional sensitivity.
At the end of the day, while I valued local authenticity, the priority was always finding actors who could fully inhabit the characters’ emotions and journeys. That was the guiding principle behind every casting choice in the film.
Chingam is described as the 'beginning of a Himachal new wave'. What are your hopes for this emerging cinematic movement?
Being described as part of the Himachal new wave gives me the confidence and responsibility to tell more stories rooted in my home and hopefully inspire others to do the same. I believe, and I might be wrong, that at its core, a story can rarely be completely unique.
What can be unique, however, is the way it is told. Chingam may be a drama-romance you’ have seen before, but its treatment, setting, and the way the characters inhabit it are deeply tied to Himachal. That rooted authenticity gives the film its freshness; while also challenging the way, Himachal is often seen through stereotypes. It is a contemporary story, grounded in real people and real lives, yet fully reflective of the place and its culture.
Even within India’s diversity, many emotions and cultural threads are shared. Take, for example, Mr Rishab Shetty’s Kantara — its story is rooted in his hometown, yet the emotions and culture resonate far beyond that setting. That film inspired me, showing that a deeply local story can still translate universally.
For me, the Himachal new wave is about telling contemporary stories that are deeply rooted, capturing the landscapes, traditions, music, and rhythms of the region, while giving the place its true identity, beyond stereotypes. The uniqueness comes from this grounded perspective, and the emotions can reach anyone, anywhere. At the end of the day, stories themselves may not be entirely unique; what matters is how an individual tells them. That, I believe, is the heart of the Himachal new wave: contemporary, rooted storytelling that gives voice and identity to the place.
