This time round, the title translates to – An/One Indian Love Story.
The article ‘an’ or even the word ‘one’ that prefixes the rest of the title gives us an impression of an everyday…, a kind of a routine fair… there is this laziness attached to it, the laziness in an easy chair on a veranda watching the rest of the world in action while slipping into sleep between a conversation 😉 😉
The trick is in saying the title aloud… if in a sentence, it can be reported as “oh! it is just another love story…” That air of casualness it exudes. It is not the curious oh! or a disappointed oh! but an I’ve seen it before of an oh!… about it being routine, about it being staged before, about it being commonplace.
The main story of the film is about a girl, a Canadian Citizen, who comes to a town in Kerala to find her birth parents. She was adopted by a Canadian couple from an orphanage from these parts while she was in her swaddlings…
The bit about the Indian love story which forms the frame story begins after the interval … A story set in the past, set in the precincts of the Indian railway and trains, a metaphor for travel, a metaphor for something that is present all over India… comes in as an apt descriptive of the Indian in the love story of the title. Another film that comes to mind in the backdrop of the railways is Julie (Hindi)/ Chattakari (Malayalam)
The girl in search of her birth parents is then is a daughter of an Indian love story … or when this Canadian girl falls in love with the Kerala wanna be politician boy, that could be the Indian love story, or the boy’s sister who lives in the memories of a love lost during her college days, that could also be the Indian love story, or the love story of our boy and his first girl friend..
Oru Indian Pranayakatha is a Malayalam film directed by Sathyan Andhikad, released in December of 2013. Fahad Fazil and Amala Paul play the lead roles.
This post is part of the A-Z Challenge. My first time for the challenge, I thought I will list some films I often watch and some characters I love on screen any time ..
… a title that sounds evocative of very many things ;)… as a title of a film, it also acts as an invitation for us, as part of an audience, to explore that relationship between you and me, its beginnings, its past, its rough edges, the patchwork.. and the seamlessness, the quarrels, the laughs, the hi5s …the many phases in very many relationships, between two people …
And almost always .. I feel “Between you and me” or the Malayalam title is followed by an ellipsis. It would then read as Between you and me … or Ayalum Njannum Thammil… the ellipsis representing the infinite possibilities :)… and the film fills the gaps 🙂
It was about the film first and then the title… then it was always the title.. I fell in love with.
Set in the theme of a hospital, the frame story is the relationship between two doctors, a senior colleague and a junior one. They meet for the first time when the junior doctor, just out of medical school is sent to work in a hospital in a remote part of the state, up in the hills, among tea estates, winding roads and hairpin curves… the younger doctor is sent there as part of a penalty. As is you can imagine, he loathes the place, the doctors, the patient, the package of penalty as a whole… before stepping into the role of a doctor in the hospital. Gradually he settles into the doctor he is trained to become…
the film is a flash back interspersed with the details in the present, in a thriller mode set into action with a death of a patient in the hospital, the ensuing mob behaviour, the police investigation, the news channel speculations and the missing surgeon…
The story of the film is narrated through different narrators, his friends, colleagues and close members of the family, their associations with him in a non linear pattern. We, as an audience are given the task to piece together the story of Dr. Ravi Tharakan and his transformation into the dedicated and selfless doctor he is today in the present time frame of the film …
Ayalum Njannum Thammil is a Malayalam film released in 2012, directed by Lal Jose starring Prathap Pothen, Prithiviraj Sukumaran in lead roles, supported by Naren, Rima Kallinglingal, Ramya Nambishan, Samratha Sunil.
This post is part of the A-Z Challenge. My first time for the challenge, I thought I will list some films I often watch and some characters I love on screen any time ..
This poster was pasted all over Cochin a month ago heralding the new Jeethu Joseph film- Drishyam.
After Memories (2013) Malayalees would definitely pay money to go to the theater to watch Jeethu’s next. The posters said, his next had Mohanlal in it as the charming common man he has excelled in during the 1980s, in his dhoti and a money purse.. After Mohanlal, we notice Meena beside him with a ridge gourd, a comeback after her wedding.. this looks like a cute family story… At that time, it was hard to read the fine print in the title…it said ” visuals can be deceiving”
In addition.. all the channels have this song from the film sung by Najim Harshad, the winner of Asianet’s Idea Star Singer 2007 … it has been showcased in every film related programme in many of the channels. You would have caught the song where the family goes for an outing..
Who would have guessed.. Visuals are deceiving.. but in this film in a good way, for the sake of entertainment and suspense. What started as a genre of family drama turned into a police investigation, edge of the seat stuff in terms of emotions and suspense that kept all of us at the theater riveted to the screen. All of us would have followed each move, we became Georgekutty, Rani and Anju and Anu…, we anticipated, we were tensed, we felt the pain, the anguish and finally we came out happy that we saw a good film.
Jeethu Joseph, hats off to you….
You have brought back our Mohanlal. Fell in love with him all over again.. There is a scene where this man wakes up late, walks in and sits at the dining table for breakfast with his family, the pic on your right.. his disheveled hair and his appearance, he looks adorable. this is right before the song Najim has sung… the song on the outing.. 😉 😀 The everydayness of the conversations between the husband and the wife, the father and his daughters, the mother and hers, the grandparents.. in the local tea shop.. it felt like peeping into the private lives of a family, a small town …we were the fly on the wall..no artificiality.. that does not mean it is a slice of reality as well. But it is a real situation, any of us may face..
Cute is one word that comes up during the entire first half before the intermission.. the couple and their kids, their grandparents.. make a loving family.. they little joys, jokes and fun..
Then comes in the twist..a boy enters.. meets the couple’s elder daughter, she is scared..they do something… there starts the plot.. twists and turns… fabrications, stories, truth, interrogation, .. all of which is beautifully executed..
The family drama turns into a thriller..
Who enters, IG Geetha Prabhakar, popularly known as Prof. Jayanthi after a character she plays in a soap opera in a Malayalam channel in a police uniform.. Asha Sharath does well… she plays the role of the stern police officer and the mother looking out for her missing son. Siddique plays the role of her husband.. Loved the way he delivered a set of lines in one of the penultimates scenes.. especially, “a ketto”
The battle is between a small town business man of a father trying to protect his family and a police officer, also the mother of the missing boy, her only son.
In between them, there are other characters, the local tea shop owner, his waiter boys, the police station and its officers located opposite it, a cable tv office, the errand boy, the protagonist’s craze for films, a corrupt constable in the form of the comedian Shaijon, an upright Sub Inspector, a bus conductor and a few more characters. If I list them all, then I would have to write spoiler alert in big bold letters at the start of the post.
Do watch. A well scripted and well-edited, and therefore well executed film. Nothing unbelievable about it. After a long time, came out satisfied from a theatre, I watched it a couple of days ago, to a house full audience. It has been over three weeks since the film’s release. Talks about the success of the film..
I was looking forward to Drishyam from the time I saw its posters all over Cochin the last time I was here. Initially, for Mohanlal of course, big fan. The fine print on the posters also said, Jeethu Joseph film.. the same man who directed Memories 🙂 That triggered additional interest. Definitely, wanted to watch it over Christmas at home.
Drishyam and Jeethu Joseph stamps that a good script makes a good film. Satisfaction guaranteed 😀 😀 I feel like watching it all over again.. same way I watched Memories a couple of more times after the initial first time.. 😉
Somebody pushed…others pulled.. we were in the middle of a huge junta swaying to one man with a mike on stage.. “can I have drink..” he asked. The crowd went berserk with the question… He went on to sing Peee loon…… ”
There was a line of people getting down from one side of the amphitheater…. people made way for them to exit…why do people want to leave a concert when the singer and the songs are very good… still swaying to Pee loo.. in the push and pull and the exit.. I fell on to this tall man in front of me.
A couple of us late comers had finally come to a halt on a step….. All of us in those first two rows were trying to find a foot space, two ears to the man who was singing on stage, one hand in the air dancing to the rhythms and another one trying to catch hold of someone to prevent a fall.
People do understand. There wasn’t space enough for him to turn back, he shouted over the loud music,” you alright?” Between us we made a silent deal… I could hold on to him when somebody pushed from above, or somebody wanted to move down the stairs… P’s words echoed… “If I fall hold on to me buddy” she told the stranger who sat in front of her in the raft during our Kolad trip.
There was this girl.. whose hand I thought was my friend’s between all this music. As we made our way through the crowd to the different parts to get a better view to go touch Mr Chauhan on stage.. I held on to her arm not to lose her in the mass of the many people around, .. but I did lose her … because when I finally hauled myself on one of the stairs of the amphitheatre and looked back… the hand I was pulling through between all this crowd was had a different face …. 😉
She had no place to keep her arm in this rush.. she kept it on my shoulder, with a disclaimer.. “I have no where else to keep, do you mind…” Another silent deal.. we swayed to the music, sang along… and stood in attention for the national athem at the very end..
2013 thank you for all the people, good and bad times, and newer experiences and realization.. 2014 also be filled with more such souls.. unexpected help.. and pleasures.. 🙂 Be a merry one.. be good!
PS: For a change, this year round, I am interested more on the ‘new’ of new year more than the ‘year’ itself..a toast to change, new beginnings and newer dreams..
For the past one week, I’ve been knee deep in farming and finding clues 😉 when the sun rays stream into my room in the morning, casting its designs on my blue chair, I open my eyes…. to realize that the grocer is waiting for his orders of his flax seeds cakes, fig fillings and pumpkin pies. That my corn and wheat need harvesting. That, I don’t have enough milk to make my butter…. and my cows need some bottles of milk. I have come to learn that getting hold of milk bottles is the most painful of tasks as it requires green cash. All I have in my bank are gold coins, loads of them, piled and stacked inside some dungeon under goblin bank.
When I am not on my farm, I work as a part time detective for the city police force, whether it is Central Bureau of Investigation or the Calfornia Bureau of Investigation, I get a kick out of being an assistant detective to Detective Jones… I get to try on new sets of clothes, some hair styles and some accessories everyday, some burgers to munch on powered with energy, a few cans of orange drinks to keep my glucose levels high.. However, there are times when I feel Detective Jones let me do the talking as I know the crime scene inside out, he takes over all the time when it comes to talking to the senior officials.. however, when on a case and a prowl he is of great help, a good companion on the field although he leaves me no option but to be strong and face blood and gory corpses. Between the two of us, we have solved about 4-5 cases on the field, the result, I know what a wrench and a dream catcher looks like.
Surprising my vocabulary has become nuanced with all this the farming and detective work. I realize I don’t have to scratch my head to recognize that ball on the floor as a ball of wool not just some thread or wool, ask friends to show me a dustbin so that I could dispose with this apple core, I’ve been biting into for all this while writing this post. I’m amazed that my brain is wired to look out for security cameras and mirrors as they come in all shapes and sizes, brooms and mops are different things with different utilities, arrows cannot be taken for granted either, sometimes they are the arrows of the bow in use in archery, at other times they show the way, they are pointers.. at totally other times, the number of arrows will indicate what they stand for…. we need to ask, arrows, what kind. So the next time someone knocks at your front door and asks for water, do ask for what purpose, you may give them a glass of drinking water, but they would need a can to cool their car or wash their legs.
Unconscious learning as a result of constant daily exposure … I don’t mind paying them with the notes from my wallet or from the roll of dollar bills bulging out of my pocket. I told you my vocab is sounding very proper 😛 🙂 😀
He always teased her about her love for duck roast. “They are so cute creatures ya! How could you eat them.” She smiled and continued to admire his photographs of the ducks on his laptop. He was home, at last after a month of work in Dusseldorf. She missed him in unknown ways… words seemed cumbersome to shower her love on him.
Together they finished an early breakfast at 3 in the morning. His flight had landed a few hours ago, he always came home from a trip thinking of food. Knowing his love for dosas… Neha kept the batter ready, to serve him his hot rice pancakes with his favourite tomato chutney. “Did you marry me for the dosas” she teased him this time as he relished the combination. His sly grin played on his face again the grin she had fallen in love with, the grin her mother had warned her about, the first time she introduced him to her family.
They knocked again. This time, Sam was irritated. She called out a good night to her winged friends on the other side of the wooden window, they kept quiet all night after. She was new to the city, new to this apartment, when his company sent him on this one month trip to Germany, the pigeons gave her company, she said.
He still clicked ducks and swans on his way to work. His new partner loved other things, she never woke him up in the middle of the night to watch the rain or served him dosas on his return trips. A spur of the moment decision, he did not regret, but that made him lie to his Neha for these last couple of years.
He could see her admiring his duck clicks…she could never explain what she loved in these ducks…. He always looked forward to see her excitement when he returned home to her food, and love with her favourite pictures of ducks….. A beautiful dream he had thrown away with a woman he had fallen in love with four years ago… He did not know whom to blame, the circumstances or himself or Neha.
Something I remember very clearly about my childhood days is about making ropes of coconut fibre..coir.. you seen them, well the ones we get in our hands, we wouldn’t know at one point in the assembly line, they are immersed into a water body or a marsh for months together, to be taken out.. ahaaa! that stink mingles with air to spread into the entire nation!! (this is what I call literal translation!)
but that is how the process goes.. After hundreds of coconuts are dehusked, their outer fibres are collected and drowned into a nearby pond with some weight. After few months, (if I remember right), they are taken out, the womenfolk, mostly the wives of the men and the women who work in the fields.. come, sit under the shades of the trees, mostly coconut trees again, start to beat the wet decomposed (?) fibres …to get something out of it..
One of my passtimes during my vacations to my maternal home was to go and sit with them, observe them and at times ask them to let me do it as well….. 😉 😉 after a day’s work they used to take this dried ones into the rope mill.. and viola.. run it through a machine, and walk a distance with it… ropes were ready.. 😀 😀 or it seemed that magical during those days.. 😛 😛
A sits at a table in the mess. On our part we carry our mess cards and submit to her before we take our plates and cutlery on our way to take food…
There is a B who stands next to A. She is the milk-in-charge. After we sign for our glass of milk in the file next to A, we go to B to fetch our glasses.
It is always a moment of excitement when life is customized according to our tastes, without any of our effort. We bask in the convenience, but we rarely understand the effort behind it.
For instance, B on her part, knows how each of us like our milk.. hot, cold, lukewarm, a mix of it all.. There are days when the milk is cold or even lukewarm when she says, hold on a sec, the hot milk is on its way… it is amazing she knows that I love my glass of milk ultra hot and my friend likes hers mixed, a mix of hot and cold. Our customized glass of milk would be ready by the time we reach her table after we sign in the milk register. There are 500 odd girls staying in this hostel with different needs for milk in this case 🙂
A on the other hand, knows all our names, it was startling the first time, when she called us by name to come over for some work. We see her at every meal, but she is always surrounded by girls, either giving her their cards, or signing the sheets in front of her table.. so she does not see us…we hardly interact with each other than the occasional smile, when the crowd in front of her is relatively less… but she knows all of us by name.. knows the wings we stay in, … sometimes even our room numbers..
Two women who work in the mess hall for whom I have great love and respect for. They have earned it with their gestures..
No wonder, we love our parents more than others… most of the time they know our tastes in food, our clothes our passions and leisure… it becomes so much of an everyday affair, our special dish on the table or our favourite colour gift, we forget that the thought, remembering it, and acting on it takes an effort.. but the effortlessness in their actions, makes it seem so simple… such people can give excellent surprises and make the people around them thrilled..
Salute them for their effortlessness, their care..
She was his dear girlfriend then.. just his dearest wife, now… August wanted to be neither, anymore… she opted out…… to be her old self… life became more than a tad smoother, unexpectedly, the headaches vanished, the heartaches dwindled…….its waft hit her as soon as she stepped out on to the threshold… the threshold of her life….like the smell of old books, the smell of her dear old self, was intoxicating….. the waft filled her senses… she inhaled a breadthful,… to inhabit it, yet again, never to step out to be an other… There it lay in a corner cobwebbed now, under a blanket of dust… all these years, relegated, in the name of love …