Empuraan's dream run

 When V first suggested that we should go for Empuraan, the sequel to the Malayalam blockbuster Lucifer, I was dismissive: 'You and Ash go. I am not interested." I wasnt a big fan of action movies especially the superstar adulation kind. But as the movie hit theatres here on 27th, I changed stand. I said we could go after the initial rush. The mall multiplexes like VOX were showing as many as 62 screenings a day, beginning at 4.30 am during Ramadan. DCC had a proper chendakottu and fans in black before the first day first show.

But as the rightwing backlash began after the first day and talks of scenes being edited out made headlines, I decided we had to watch it in its original form - I guess there were many like me in Kerala and here. Eid day on Sunday saw most theatres house full, so by evening I booked the smaller screen next door at Novo. Balcony seats were yet to fill up in this residential area novo.

The movie was so-so but I didnt mind sitting through it for a full 3 hours  unlike the last movie I watched in theatre. The storyline seemed hazy with too many drug cartels and locations adding to the confusion. But reliving the horror of the Godhra riots was the highlight and going by the posts and videos everywhere, it is the talk of the state much to rightwingers' chagrin.

I salute the ambition behind producing a Hollywood scale movie and having Godhra riots as the theme, but much of the story is forgettable. Lal and Manju look plasticky with their botox faces. Lal can't move his bones and walks around like a zombie. Manju's looks equally dead, and look like she is sleep talking when she addresses the crowds on stage.  Prithvi is awesome (he is my favourite actor lookswise though now dialogue delivery wise), Tovino and Suraj are equally good. Tovino's CM is a mix of RaGa in his former avatar in white kurta pajama, and a businessman on holiday in his suit and tshirt.

There seems to be a mishmash of Kerala politics - MW's name reminds one of Indira Gandhi, the bro sister with the late illustrious father reminds one of Karunakaran and his son and daughter, the party flag and attire resembles the INC's; there are references to the BJP's 35-seat hopes in the last state election, the Mullaperiyar dam issue, the thiruvathira dance hailing the present CM etc.

Thank you Prithvi and Murali Gopi for taking us across the world through this movie. I hope Empuran reaps massive profits despite the cuts and mutes dictated by the regime at the Centre.

Killer roads

My hometown is a good two hours away from the nearest airport, TRV or Thiruvananthapuram. Often we Chandanapallikar hire local drivers to pick us up from the airport in our own (parental) cars, which is often a little cheaper than an airport taxi. For women travelling alone, a known local driver is better (safer/more comfortable) than an unknown airport cabbie.

One such passenger met her death on her way home from the airport today. She had reached the Kerala capital on a dawn flight from Dxb, and she was promptly picked up by her regular driver from the village. Unfortunately, the car hit a divider (the driver is suspected to have dozed off) and the lady doctor who was sitting in the back seat was fatally injured. A cardiac arrest followed and the news of her death reached us by 10 am. 

This has been one of the most tragic news for us Chandanapallians. The gyn's husband had passed away two years back, and she single-handedly reared her two children - one a UG student here, and the second who recently got admission for MBBS in Kerala. The fate/future of the children hangs in the balance now. I hope there is a way forward, and they will have adequate support.

It is ironic that someone who had passed her UAE driving test in first attempt -- a feat here -- should lose her life in a road accident elsewhere. She had gone to get her new house ready for housewarming and possibly also meet her son.

The death is a reminder for us expats to be more mindful of our future, our savings and not to waste money on palatial mansions back home. And of course road safety, which is a big issue in Kerala despite its world-class roads - what is the use when people on the roads dont know basic rules or etiquette?

#drbinduphilip

21

February is the month of birthdays in our family. This year we had two milestone birthdays - Ash turned 21 and my mom turned 80. 

Dad had so looked forward to a birthday bash for her, but it ended up being a quiet one. My birthday fell on dad's 41st day of death, which is generally celebrated as adiyantiram after 40 days of fasting (non-veg).

Man proposes, God disposes.

p.s. V got Ash a proper DJ set for his birthday apart from a dinner at Pickl, a UAE version of American fastfood. He had recently attended a crash course in DJ making at SAE institute Dubai.

Hopefully DJ can go beyond being just a passion.

George and St George

A song that we Kerala Syrian Christians sing only at funerals is "samayamam rathathil njan swargayatra cheyyunnu... (I travel on the chariot of time towards heaven, To see my homeland I go alone). I love it but on January 3rd when I heard it as the ambulance brought my dad's body home from the morgue, I was overwhelmed by grief. Close relatives and well wishers carried the coffin into the house, where bouquets of flowers, an ornamental cross and long candles made Chandanapally's first English professor's final journey a grand affair.

People had been visiting us ever since the hospital confirmed the news, and the day before the funeral being a holiday for Mannam Jayanti we saw a lot of mourners. His friends poured in, so did casual acquaintances he chatted with on his daily 4 km evening walk around the village and neighbouring villages until his prostate surgery in 2023. 

He was not an easy person to hobnob with, but he had his loyal companions too. In a village where a good many people had only basic education, dad stood out in the 1960s with an MA in English from Christ College Kanpur where his classmates included an Orthodox priest, who later became the Catholicose (pontiff) of the Malankara Orthodox church of Kerala. In place of the nearer Catholicate college run by our community, he chose to join at the age of 22 -- he had job offers from a few colleges in those times when postgraduates were few -- an arts & science Marthomite college in Kozhencherry further away from our home town, changing two or three buses to reach the institution. He did not ride a bike, but the relaxed timetables in Kerala colleges made the commute easy for him as well as for a female colleague who travelled daily by train from Kochi. The pit stop at his maternal cousin's printing press cum shop in Pathanamthitta town in the evenings - where professionals of his ilk discussed life and politics - or a late afternoon nap at his aunt's house made the journey less arduous. He would not eat until he reached home by 4 pm, saving every penny in times when life was harder and money less forthcoming. 

The savings helped him manage the family house and property as well as provide us a better higher education in Chennai, Pune and Delhi. In an era when people in my village went to Madras only to "learn computer", we went to do humanities in MCC along with the rich kids of Kottayam and Ernakulam districts. He let me and bro do English and Economics respectively at a time when science was the mantra for success. He reiterated that any subject was good enough to excel in if we had the passion and potential, and always gave great importance to language and communicative skills for success. He brought us books from his college library and subscribed only to Balarama (for kids) and Mathrubhumi weeklies at home, magazines that were a class apart from the Manorama and Mangalam weeklies that churned out pulp fiction for the masses.

His pride in us knew no bounds, as I graduated out of IIMC and Robs out of Reading Uni, and joined our respective careers in The Hindu and Sopac in Fiji. We moved places in the 20 years thereafter, but always returning to our roots and our parents every year. 

Mom, who always thought she would be the first to go, now has to grapple with the reality of a life without dad and the companionship they had even in their bickering and teasing. Her 80th birthday bash which he had looked forward to will now be a quiet affair. Chandanapally, a village best known for its churches dedicated to St George and his miracles, will be short of a George.

The best part about funerals, I must say, is the support, love and bonhomie that we experienced from cousins, friends and neighbours. Unlike weddings, which are also occasions for social gathering, funerals make us believe in the goodness of people and their allegiance for a departed soul and his family. I bow in gratitude to all especially Roychan who helped us with the funeral norms and church rituals, first cousins Rosemary, Renjith and Joji who flew down from abroad for two days to be at the funeral, dad's maternal cousins Sen, Susheela, Asha, Jose, Suba and Sunil, our MCC friends and dad's colleagues, and our many dear ones who called or messaged in the days before and after the funeral. 

We will try to console ourselves that he had a good "maranam" or death, not struggling or suffering from his lifestyle diseases. But the pain will linger, and a part of him will live in us giving us strength to move on.

Losing a loved one...

That was the beginning of a Unicef ad dialogue I heard most days on YouTube. Now it has touched my life too.

 My dad has left to celebrate New Year in paradise.... He passed away yesterday in hospital sometime after he fainted during his evening walk. 

I just feel it's not fair that he left so soon when he wasn't very ill or bed ridden. He had a few lifestyle ailments including diabetes and had slowed down after a prostate surgery last year. But I expected him to cross 90 and he left 5 years early.

Dad was dad, strict but fiercely loving and helping us bloom in the directions we wanted. He inculcated in us a love for reading, always bringing us books from the college library and while in Dar, the public library of Tanzania.

My only solace is that I spent 2 months last year in their home caring for them. But I grieve I didn't speak to him directly on the phone since mom answered the calls and dad just chipped in from the sides, staying away from video calls.

Grief wells up but doesn't overflow as tears.

Lighter than light

 When Mira came home on vacation two weeks back, her demands included watching two Malayalam movies in theatre - Sookshmadarshini & All we imagine as Light. 

The first was another comeback (she doesn't like the term) film of Nasriya Fahad after Koode and Trance, and with all the trappings of her cute and poke-your-nose-in-others-affairs self from Om Shanti Oshana. It was partly fine but her over-the-top detective ways wasnt entirely convincing and had the kiddishness of a Famous Five or Secret Seven adventure. Three neighbourhood Nancy Drews join in to unearth strange happenings in a new neighbour's house, and honour killings are not what we are used to in Kerala, so that makes for some novelty. But the movie was interminably long for post-Covid times and I was squirming in my seat after 90 minutes. Popcorns and nachos kept my kids busy part of the time.

We managed to catch AWIAL on the last day of its screening at the nearest VOX theatre's VIP screen. Since it is not the kind that enlists much viewers here, it was shunted to the limited seat screen. On a Wednesday (movies change here on Thursdays), there were just five of us in the theatre -- apart from the two of us, there was a lady who was probably non-Malloo and a man who walked up to the last row with a bag of snacks, and another guy who just didnt seem the type for a hi-funda movie like this. We suspected he was drawn to the movie by the nude scenes that it reportedly had. Unfortunately for him, they were censored and we didnt see anything beyond some smooching.

AWIAL, directed by a non Keralite with some French and Dutch collaboration, seemed made for awards and it had already bagged some. By depicting Bombay in all its starkness and roughness, it managed to show India in truly dirty and unappealing colours as the Oscar winner Slumdog Millionaire. Two nurses from Kerala - one the head nurse and the other a fresher - share a room; one is dark and quiet and the other is pretty and voluptuous. The first has lost her husband - he  has been missing or his whereabouts are unknown ever since he departed to his workplace in Germany where he is working in a factory, or that is what he made her believe (By the way, it would have been convincing if the husband was a blue-collar worker in the Gulf; I havent heard of Keralite men going to Germany for low-level factory jobs). The second has found new love - one expects this will turn out to be a 'love jihad' or a jilted case. But the chap seems earnest and is hoping her family will accept their love.

While the first half (we were warned there would be no intermission, so Mira ran to get a bag of popcorns) showed life in Bombay, the  second shifted to coastal Ratnagiri where the teaseller at the hospital where the nurses work  -- played by the gritty Chaya Kadam -- shifts after she is ousted from her Bombay shack by landsharks. The young women accompany her, and the boyfriend joins his love interest. We see the women dancing over a bottle of booze, and the trio and boyfriend are peacefully enjoying each other's company as the titles roll. We also see the missing husband -- or was the nurse hallucinating that the man she nurses is her man?

The movie is slow as award movies are meant to be. I didnt understand the end. Did the director not know how to end it or was it meant to be incomplete? Or were the old accepting the ways of the young? 

All We Imagine as Light did remind me of my days in Delhi sharing a room with a classmate who had a string of beaus and often didnt pay her share of the rent. The title is a play on the name of the main character Prabha which means light or brightness in Malayalam. But what is light in the lives of the women it portrays?

Down Under and back

We were in Brisbane, Australia, for 12 days in October to attend V's nephew's wedding. There was an English wedding and a Kerala Orthodox style wedding since the girl is European. It was a lot of fun. Also visited Sydney for 2 days apart from Gold Coast.