April 7, 2012
I was going to write an exuberant note about the Oscar winning Iranian movie, but then Kala chechi brought freshly cooked tapioca and home made spicy hot mutton curry with pearl onions from the village. After having generously tucked into it, I have internalized all the exuberance. That spiciness that lingers on the lips, tongue and hands long after the meal is done. The aroma that could bring back even the crucified! A bit of sweet payasam to gently wash over this delectable burn would have been perfect. But then greed is a sin!
The city supplement of Manorama news yesteday had a box item about a new film society launching in the city with the self-explanatory name, Friday Cinema. Their inaugural movie was "A Separation" to be held at the Travancore Samskarika Kendram (Culture Center) on Ambuja Vilasam Road near Pulimoodu at 6pm. I was wary of ending up in yet another room full of incessant cell phone ringing and busier-than-Obama mallus perpetually texting, so I made it to the bus stop, hoping against hope, only by 5:15 pm.
For 15 minutes, I let at least half a dozen buses in varying states of occupation pass by. As is common all over the city soon after a wave of road repair and tarring is complete, there was an underground drinking water pipe punctured at the bus stop leaking onto the road. Finally at 5:35, I got into a nearly empty city bus and headed to Statue junction. Lack of passengers made it easy to notice the bus driver. A rare mallu specimen with almost golden brown hair and silver eyes. Kerala indeed has a long history of international trade relations!
The laburnum at the gates of the Fine Arts college had exploded into its seasonal golden glory.
Though it was a public holiday owing to Good Friday, Statue junction was pretty busy. I walked over to Pulimoodu junction briskly and then slowed down because I had no idea where the Travancore Samskarika Kendram was. The Ambuja Vilasam Road mentioned in the newspaper stretched from Pulimoodu junction all the way to Kaithamukku via the old General Post Office. I asked the petty shop keeper across from the Dhwantari Ayurvedic Pharmacy. "Orupadu peru chodichu vannu," (Lot of people have coming asking) he said shaking his head and waving his hands, "thazhottayirikum" (it might be further down).
I ventured further down. Within a minute of walking, the huge red board across the first floor of a new building announced itself to be the culture center. It was right next to the building that used to be my "Hindi" classes till high school.The culture center had a notice outside that listed their ongoing vacation classes manned by veterans like Kanayi Kunjiraman and Prof. Madhusoodanan Nair. The movie show was in the hall upstairs. Leave your footwear outside. There were around 25 chairs set around the small table with the projector and dvd player. A screen was stretched from ceiling to floor. It was 5:55. Three chairs were unmanned.
The show commenced promptly at 6 pm. Few more chairs were added by 6:10. People who still operate on the older Indian Standard Time kept showing up as late as 6:40 and went back seeing the fully occupied venue.
Reviewing "A Separation" as another movie is inappropriate. It is a great piece of art in our times which fulfills the rare responsibility of art that is to encapsulate and reflect the essential contemporary conundrums. It is a must-watch. Decimating the cultural stereotype the rest of the world has about life in Iran is but an unintentional side effect of this film.
What sets it apart onto a pedestal of artistic brilliance is the capture of the greyness of modern urban nuclear family life that prompts those trapped in it to overreact to both the black and the white that sloshes into that greyness. Talking about the technical side of the movie will be akin to commenting Michelangelo's brush selection for the Sistine Chapel. "A Separation" underlines the profound power of the cinematic medium. It is blistering realism that leaves some of the most endearing, indelible images ever committed to film.
Thankfully, the audience were almost entirely fellow lovers of good cinema. There were only a couple of stray cell phone rings and texting attempts. Friday Cinema is a great new, much anticipated and required arrival in the city. I hope to be a regular at their showings of great Indian and International cinema.
On the way back from the show picked up the latest editions of Balarama and Balarama Amar Chitra Katha. Though the express purpose was to read to the baby, I had been wanting to check out how these fortnightlies that I grew up with have transformed after the great Indian economic boom of last decade. Balarama, it was good to note, remains as fun and informative as ever. Kuttusan and Dakini, the black magicians, are still chasing after the kids, Raju and Radha, and their friendly sprite, Mayavi. May be Kuttusan and Dakini look a bit more diabolical after a couple of decades. Mayavi and the evil sprite, Luttapi, have both acquired gowns instead of their top naked nature in the past. There was a literature quiz that was orders of magnitude better than the quiz shows that are now dime a dozen on the TV channels. The Amar Chitra Katha was the story of sage Agasthya. These publications seem to have become more diluted than 25 years ago.
This morning accompanied my sister to Lord's Hospital. Nice to see the good old doctors, nurses and staff after 4 months. Receptionists continue to keep their jobs in their printed brownish yellow livery sarees. Construction work is still in progress. Out patients were aplenty, it being a Saturday morning. Since my sister needs check up every 2 weeks from now on, I will be a frequent visitor.
As I finish typing this, the surrounding air is working hard at carrying away the enjoyable spicy tinge from my fingers and lips. Amma has asked me to go buy some ripe plantains. Looks like "vazhakkappam" in the evening. Indeed, it is a Good Saturday!
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