Back to the roots

It takes a virus to let go of the trappings that have cobwebbed our life over a time that we have lost count of. While we are lost to the rioting, sedition accusations, the politics of politicians and the economy mombojumbo on one side, the world is gripped with a virus that has no cure and a greater fear of the unknown.

Through the year, people died and killed in the name of gods and religious sanctums..we fought to enter religious sanctums and we rebelled to expel people from various institutions…and now ironically the very same institutions and religious sanctums lie vacant…could we have said our prayers and indulged in good thoughts without this carnage?

Social distancing- the new buzzword that we now need to live by – can our country be finally cured of molestation and murders as these cannot be usually conducted at three feet distance? Where justice and courts could not distance criminals and crooks, the virus can finally unleash fear of consequence to the ravenous perpetrators of crime in our country?

Our consumer indulgences and entertainment lines had blurred and shopping and splurging became synonymous with ‘pastimes’ and now when malls, cinemas and shops put their shutters down, we stuffed our tail between our legs and picked up things to do within our home and with family. A little book, some home cleaning and simple conversations with family can also help us pass time without breaking our bank in a mall.

And for all the attention we showered on our gadgets and all the respect we offered our wifi speed, social interactions within the precinct of our homes was more challenging that social distancing.  The food without filters and family conversations that didn’t need broadcasting on social media suddenly seemed a novel idea to our whatsapp obsessed population.

We don’t now need to have a day that is instagrammable at home, we are now free of the pressure to look good as we no longer step out of our homes and our namaste feels cooler and peace and happiness could be simply achieved by washing our hands with soap.  The virus reeks fear but also oversimplified our complicated lifes!

You are More

You are not your pay check
You are not your waistline
You are not a diversity statistic

You are More
More than the flawlessness of your “fair and lovely” skin
More than the Michelin stars in your gourmet kitchen
More than the “spic and spanness” of your home

You are More
More than the sweat and perfectness of your child rearing
More than the shards of the broken “glass ceiling”
More than the alacrity of your daily chores

You are More
More than a well fit wife of your husband
More than a martyrium mother of your child
More than a decorated daughter of your parents

You are More..not Less…Woman you are More!

Clouds of Fear

 I fear the times

Of the clock moving at a pace that bothers me

Of the sudden departures from our family portraits

Of the fragile bonds that could break with the slightest tension



I fear the planet

Of the air that pollutes and poisons

Of the water that droughts and floods

Of the forests that destroys and weather destruction



I fear the nation

Of the words that cannot be spoken

Of the hands that cannot be held

Of the walls that stagnates our thoughts



I fear the heart

Of the emotions that we empty ourselves off each day

Of the beauty that we are blind to

Of the humanity that we blench and colour with brutality

The year of the human

Dust settles in on the year

No cheer and more clear

Less certainty and more fear

A stocktaking of losses

A father’s touch

A parent’s cocoon

A princess existence

Time the prankster

Showing me who the master is

And I bowed to his supremacy

Money and materials has the life of a glowworm

Only enough sheen for a day

When the sun sets, you are exposed

You need the human touch

That reassuring hand helping you face the world

That innocent smile telling you of the goodness left behind

That ring of familiarity – friends and family

Wanting yet lasting – for the years to come

Women – Burn Beat and Bounce!

Don’t fret and fume

The freckles and the acne

They tell a story of joyous adolescence and fresher freer times

Don’t botox and peel

The wrinkles and dark circles

They are a testimony to the richness of experience and hard work

Don’t hide and twist

The stretchmarks and the love handles

They fondly reminiscence the warmth of a baby and motherhood

Don’t cave in

The circle of mysognyny and patriarchy

There are a few good men who behold and further our women  

Don’t box away your dreams

The hardships and injustice

They shut more mouths and sweeten your success

Girl – go do your thing

There is no knight

There is no Prince Charming

No pumpkin carriage and no glass slipper

Some dusty paths that you can trek and conquer

Few life decisions that you can fight and live by

One real world that you can own and rule

Kumbalangi Nights – Here’s to the underdogs

This movie is perhaps a testament to the fact that an authentic story when told without the trappings of stardom and superficiality can tug at the right strings of the audience heart.

Kumbalangi Nights or perhaps K Nights is that one masterpiece that I hoped to see and more on screen – a brilliant tale of the underdogs, of bonds, of human relations and emotions – woven with craft and élan and yet so true to its roots. A movie that I failed to find faults in, a movie where I immersed into the lives of the four eccentric brothers of Kumbalangi and a movie where I participated in the ups and downs of the ‘below normal’ lives of people. It is also a democratic movie that gives space and depth to every character, that gives every actor a chance to showcase his or her craft and where every character has its share of natural flaws and charisma.

The movie itself is pure art in motion – each frame absorbing the palette of colours of the water, of the shrubs, of the fish and even of the grimy browns of poverty. If the visual treat wasn’t good enough, the irony and humour of the crispy ‘in-your-face’ dialogues that erupt in every scene should keep you glued to this movie. But the audio-visual support still pales in comparison to the stellar performances meted out by every actor in the movie – it is almost a duel of artistic brilliance and you cannot judge or give away the trophy to one amongst them. Whether it’s the freshness of the ‘no-nonsense’ ‘Babymol’, or the careful nonchalance of ‘Bobby’, the molten greys of ‘Shammy’ or the ‘remorsefulness’ and the ‘coming together’ of ‘Saji’ – each actor has breathed such life and truth into the portrayal that you cannot but help empathize and be drawn into the narrative!

I must also commend the moviemaker of the sensitive portrayal of women in the movie – they are not ‘eye-candies’, not ‘props’ pushed into the movie to accentuate the ‘machoism’ of the men. Each of them hold their ground and display an earthy realism of the strength, faith, flaws and character of womanhood without the crutches of dramatic tears or emotional ‘feminism’.

While I struggle to pin the beauty of the movie to its story, to its script, to its frames or to its stalwart characters – perhaps  I should give Soubin his dues who sculpts a performance that leaves you dumbstruck – from the brawling boozer to the ‘guilt-stricken’ friend to the ‘responsible elder brother’ – he emotes and transforms with such ease and class that he almost invades and captures every frame as his own!

K Nights brings back your faith in classic storytelling which is the forte of Malayalam movie history and also challenges other moviemakers to break their molds of star-struck stories and ‘wafer-thin’ supporting cast and characters. It cements your belief that an authentic and true effort at a role can help create a masterpiece even without computer generated imageries or ‘larger than life’ super stars – here’s to more good movies that we can fondly rechristen as ‘classics’ of our times.

A Wish for the Republic

Where your surname does not determine your destiny

Where the cow and the human have an equal right to live

Where we protect our ‘living’ women just as much as our goddesses

Where freedom is not cloaked in accusations of sedition

Where the citizen and the emperor walk the same road

Where art can express itself without the pigmentation of religion

Where our culture not our controversy gets us on the world map

Where we develop without decimating our heritage

Where we can love each other born of the same country

Colour, creed, caste and contours melting into the pristine white

Of the Republic of India