Satyajit Ray's film Pather Panchali shares an ironical fate with world classics: it's talked about many, but seen by few, and understood by still fewer. For six decades, it has been afloat in the cinematic space like a holy ghost, shrouded in mystery. In reverence, some bow to it, others chant its name.

Why don't people see it? It doesn't fit into their idea of film. Cinema, globally, has become escapist. It's chock-a-block with dreams, fantasies, fairy tales, glamour, spectacle, romance, superheroes, superheroines. Truth is a stranger here, if not dressed in fancies. The outcome is: cinema is rarely viewed as an art; it's a mere entertainer. Satyajit defies it. He chooses a human story and tells it as it is. He bares it open, raw; at times repulsive to the squeamish. But he does it with art, with love, with courage, which gets often overlooked.

Being a debut, Pather Panchali had some flaws. Satyajit didn't shy away from admitting them. For instance, in response to the criticism made by Bosley Crowther, "the doyen of New York critics", Satyajit said, "Judged on the level of craftsmanship, there was much that was wrong with my film...Shots are held for too long, cuts come at wrong points, the pace falters, the camera is not always placed in the right position."

Yet the film touched millions, masses and critics alike. How? Take the mystery-shroud off and find out.