What are your expectations from the audience in England?

I grew up in England and have certain inkling for the likes and dislikes of that culture. I understand the nuances of their emotions and humour. I have always felt that The Black Prince will go very well in the UK. It will find a respectful home there and grow from that base audience. This could be the biggest territory for the film.

England has a sizeable second and third generation of South Asians. I hope the film connects with their emotions. This audience does not frequent Bollywood films, but does have an emotional connection to the history and culture of their forefathers. This would be a fitting film for those generations to support and embrace.

What were the creative temptations involved in dealing with history, archives, emotions and events?

I have been writing in some form or shape since I was a child. One thing I learned very early on was to find a perspective that is not too personal in telling a story. Even when relating a tale that is very close to you, one must not be tempted to personalise it too much and lose eyes and ears of the third party — your readers or audience, as in our case.

Also, in most instances, as a writer, there is a tendency to take liberties in telling a true story. Embellishing parts of the story to make it more emotional, dramatic and heightened. In this case, I did not have that luxury. I was on path to tell Maharaja Duleep Singh’s true story. Which is to say that what we have been reading and believing as facts so far about him, has been distorted history. Written by a British pen with Indian ink. I was finally going to shed some light on it and stay truthful to the boy king’s point of view. I could not over-dramatise his journey and turn it into a melodrama.

Who is Maharaja Duleep Singh — the man and the Sikh?

Maharaja Duleep Singh is many things. A boy king of a powerful kingdom. A lost young man looking for his identity. A lover and a womaniser. One who relishes his whiskey and company of fine women. A hunter among the very best. A husband and a father. A wealthy man who lived in luxury and in the company of royalty. A man who left his mark on history. And so much more.

But, above all, he was a powerful voice for India’s independence. He echoed that cry of freedom while living in the shadows of the British. He had no fear and marched on to raise an army, in his attempt to run the British out of India. In the process, he gave up everything, including his own family.

He was a man and a Sikh. When one is raised in a false faith, and upon awakening to the truth, goes back to his roots and embraces the religion of his birth, to me, that’s a force to reckon with. That’s the man he was.

He became a king at five. He had little to do with the course of his life. Shorn away from his mother at seven, indoctrinated into the faith of his aggressors, and kept away from his culture, his people, and land, he lived a life given to him–very comfortable and provided, which seemed privileged at the time, but was just a facade.

His heroism lies in having all that, and yet, spurning it for the greater good of his countrymen. Whether he succeeded or not is not the question. He tried and put up a valiant fight, all alone. He gave up everything, including his entire family. This film will start a dialogue to look at history from a different perspective and see Maharaja Duleep Singh in a more favourable light.

The awakening period of his life, which no one talks about, is fascinating. When the realisation dawned upon him about who he was and what the British did to him, he roared like a lion and denounced everything English thrust upon him. He reconverted to his Sikh faith and began his journey towards the freedom of his people and the rest of India. He was the first person to raise the slogan of India’s independence, a struggle in which he faced betrayal.

Who is Maharaja Duleep Singh the prince?

I believe, as a young man living amongst British Monarchy, he must have felt privileged at the time to be called a prince. He was one among them. But once realising his bearing and true calling in life, it hits him like a brick. He is a king and not a prince. He has a kingdom and his home in England is no more than saccharine exile.

How did your journey from India to the UK to the United States of America, shape your idea of identity, home and roots?

I left India when I was very young. I have very few childhood memories from my life in the village in Hoshiarpur (Punjab). Most of the memories have faded. My father was in the British India Army. Because of that background, we had the opportunity to migrate to England. After some years in England, we moved to America. I call Los Angeles my home. It has been for many years.

I have always held a close affinity to my background, culture and language. Even though I have spent a major part of my life under the influence of Western culture, I never wanted to forget where I came from.

I proudly say that I am a product of three different cultures. I embrace the best of all of them. I do find that my loyalty lies in America, the country that has shaped my destiny and the course that my life is on now. It has enabled me to stay truthful to my roots and respect my upbringing. It has seen all my ups and downs and continues to support me.

What do you relate with in the Maharaja’s journey to his roots?

First time I went to India was after 16 years. I had left India as a little boy and was returning to the land of my birth as a young man. I was about the same age as Maharaja Duleep Singh, when he went to Calcutta, to meet his mother Maharani Jindan after 14 years of separation.

I remember going to my village and our home. No one lived there, but it was kept up by the neighbours. Upon entering the home where I was born and had spent the early days of my life, where I must have played and run around, I could remember small things, but did not know how to feel. I felt empty and disconnected. Looking at the spot where I was born, as told by my mother, I tried to connect to that past period of my life, but it was difficult. I felt as if I was forcing my emotions to the surface.

I wandered around the village trying to find the little boys I had played with. They were all grown up and had lives of their own. Some had even died. I felt lonely and yet safe. I was now in a faraway land with my family and new friends. The village was the past.

It was only days later, when I was leaving India and on my way back to the US, that I felt a flood of emotions hitting me a like a storm. I missed that life that I knew so little of. I often wonder what my life would be like now, if we had remained in that village.

When I was writing the script for The Black Prince, I felt a connection to Maharaja Duleep Singh’s journey. Even though he was never allowed to set foot on the land of his birth, I could feel how he must have felt in England, when just plucked out from his environment, he is thrown amidst a culture that is not his own. I remember that feeling when we first landed in England and then, as a young lad in the United States. I had to adapt and fit in and grow very quickly or be left behind.

What significance does Kohinoor have in the film and what does it reveal about the Maharaja?

Kohinoor does figure in the film and brings out a very important point in the story. Duleep Singh does realise the significance of the iconic diamond and how it was taken from him. But, somehow, he did not have an emotional attachment to the diamond. By the time he realises its importance and worth, he was on to higher aspirations, regaining his kingdom and independence of India. He had given up most of his material needs in life.

Did The Gold Bracelet open doors to your idea and expression of identity?

The Gold Bracelet was my first major film as a writer and director. It was extremely well-received and established me as a good story teller. The film won many awards and gave me the courage to tackle bold subjects and tell stories that matter in the larger scheme of things.

It did establish an identity of sorts, for me, as a storyteller who was tackling meaningful subjects. At a recent screening of The Black Prince, people who had seen The Gold Bracelet were coming up to me and telling me how proud they were that I was continuing my journey to tell stories that other filmmakers were not.

I remember an incidence some years back when I went to a Sikh Temple with my father, where an elderly gentleman who had seen The Gold Bracelet came up to us and said that I should continue making films like that and tell our stories. Even at the cost of losing everything. He said history will remember me.

I looked over at my father. He had tears in his eyes as he placed his hand on my shoulder proudly. I had his approval, as in everything I wanted to do.

You took acting classes in San Francisco. How did they shape you?

I started my acting career in San Francisco and took workshops at a small theater in the city. That early exposure to the learning process gave me the courage to dive deeper into the process and immerse myself fully into learning the craft.

Soon after, I gave up the comforts of my parents’ home and moved to Los Angeles. I enrolled at UCLA theatre arts department in pursuit of my Master degree and started attending Lee Strasberg Institute.

Why did you choose direction?

Directing is really an extension of my desire to express myself. An avenue to tell stories that mean something to me. It allows me to have a little better control of the kind of work that I want to do.