Mechilpuram

An image of our Sunday School hall on Fridays Fridays. The actual start to the weekend, as opposed to the jumpstart that was Thursday evenings Friday meant one thing. Church. Oh boy, I was not a fan, especially the getting ready part The day would begin at 5:30 am when Amma would wake up and prepare tea for us. Being Christians, we don't have food before church. So the tea was the only thing keeping us up until Sunday School snacks (more on that soon!) I was the non-grumbly type that took two calls from Amma (sitting in the hall) to wake up. Eyes shut, brushing my teeth away. My brother was the one who extracted maximum effort from my parents to finally open his eyes. Amma would keep calling out his name, each call increasing in intensity and finally when she conceded defeat, Acha would enter the ring. My brother could really test our parents' patience hehe. Since Acha is the no-nonsense type with a soft liking to him, it would take some soft words to finally cajole him into wa...

Reel 5 : Happy Journey As the horrors of the  mana fade in the distance, we now commence on a bus ride. A bus filled with expectant passengers with places to be. Enroute from Kochi to Kozhikode The writer is able to present caricatures in our society from the very beginning - namely, a misogynist (JK), a media person who claims to expose the dirtiness of society while secretly working in cahoots with influential figures to wash away their sins, and a steadfast woman (Nithya). The bus ride commences, as the co-passengers rest easy. The scene pans over to the nineteenth aisle where JK and Nithya begin their journey too, driven by a natural curiosity about one another. JK leads the narrative. Layers to the character help provide context. An Insurance agent will be well versed with body language and reading context. How many of us have tried to stay away from a pestering LIC agent relative xD? With each passing moment, the steadfast woman fields questions, with little revealed in retu...

Reel 4 : Mrithunjayam While Hiranmayi waits at the Cafe awaiting her train, another story begins at a table, where two siblings meet over coffee to discuss about a Hindu Thirumeni, who is being investigated by the Intelligence Bureau over his alleged connections to black magicians in Tunisia and Kazkh voodoo practitioners. The siblings are namely an IB Officer and an Investigative Journalist, Over coffee, we get a look-in at the banter shared by the siblings, with a joke by the IB Officer (played by Anoop Menon), in the mix. Cappucino in our Kerala Cafe - you don't say!  The scene then pans over to a trio of journalists undertaking an assignment to cover the spooky goings-on at the Vanneri Mana.  It excites, arouses curiosity upon the lead journalist that wanted to get a feel, get lost in the mystery of the mana. The thirumeni stays unassuming, with a fear within. With the mana having an infamous reputation amongst the inhabitants of that land, claiming lives in the process ...

Musings This segment describes a married man's descent into uncertainty - of not losing the loves in his life, but while repenting for mistakes made in the name of love. I was amazed watching Suresh's performance and more importantly with Shaji Kailas' ability to tell a conflicting story. Sure, it could have been more fleshed out, but here we are. Reel 3 : Lalitham Hiranmayam The rushed pitter-patter of rain, the unsipped glasses of tea now cold and the crushed butts.  Everything lies in his wake. The essence in them, extinguished. The turmoil bubbling within doesn't betray. The unrest behind those eyes doesn't stray. The beauty of a blossoming flower is an antithesis to this scene - fragile, defiant, and painfully out of place. Its beauty stands in a stark contrast to all that has been undone. Ramesh always had a safe abode. His Lalitha. A calm presence to soothe his baby self. A mind that he knew and loved. A conscience that he admired.  Somewhere down the journey...

Musings The ambiguity of life and fate is deeply intertwined, guiding the course of an individual’s journey on Earth. Too often, we dismiss fate as nothing more than God’s mischievous play - a delicate walk across a rope bridge, if you will. The ends of the bridge are anchored to firm, unchanging foundations. The middle, however, can sway, fray, or even snap. Yet as long as the ends remain fixed, the bridge - or what’s left of it - stands as a testament to endurance and collapse alike. Introspection offers a fleeting escape: a dive into the memories we cherish, cringe at, and can never quite forget. In those moments, we yearn to rewind the reel of our lives - to correct the turns that went wrong, to perfect the scenes that fell short, and to reshape the story we continue to live. Death is something similar. A void left by someone close. Irreplaceable. A fragment of life that continues to live in hearts. A great legacy is what we wish to leave in our wake   The way that the Pe...

Musings Kerala Cafe: Oru Yathra, 10 Kathakal A cafe is what we would associate to - say a new beginning, an ambience that sheds a sense of familiarity to daily routines, relationships and a longing to bask in it's warmth. In the setting of Kerala Cafe however, we journey as a silent passenger. A journey through multiple stories, interwoven to leave you reflecting on how life and situations are perceived by manushyanmar, from different walks of life. Everyone has a story to tell. Intimate, no frills attached and which lends a sense of curiosity. A kind of childish kusruti if you will Stories that speak of yearning and return, of love found and lost, of choices made in haste and the quiet reckoning that follows. Carrying that familiar aroma of manushyanmar, flawed, hopeful and endlessly searching. Kerala Cafe is one journey that I'll cherish forever, for having taken.  Just raw, unfiltered stories that have their kutty cracks in them. Nothing polished, just raw storytelling. Ree...

An image of my hall, with people erased from it Here goes a tale from childhood, when Thursday meant the world for me as a kid in Dubai Skipping the morning ritual of going to school, we would be back by 2:30 pm or so back home. Stowing the schoolbag away under the desk-table - never to be seen until Saturday morning was written in the story, though Amma never approved of that The best part of the day at school, would be having Art or Music classes, where we would be engrossed in drawing a line or two or singing out of tune to leave my music teacher Mr.Tully red-faced. The art teacher Mr. Geoffrey, was a strict person - so there would be no way out of this, though art was'nt my forte. Huddling together to fill in the dotted lines or coloring the pre-drawn picture never meant much. We had to take Faber Castell coloring sets to school! Losing one of them color pencils would be unthinkable After having a rice lunch consisting of Thursday-special chicken curry (courtesy of Amma). The n...

Musings  One of my recent pet peeves has been taking a track that I've been grooving on and focusing on the coordination and steps put forward by the background dancers in them Growing up, they were like invisible - there, but not there. We must remember that this was an occupation in a field that fed thousands. One misstep, and you could be costing immeasurable amounts in production costs to retake the dance scene As a general observation, Malayalam Cinema eventually weaned off background dancers by the late 2000's. This is to say that Ensemble dances sort of lost their charm in the calm wave of Malayalam Cinema - with character centric plots and performance trumping visual treats. Looking back, those were some memorable times. Two tracks that come to mind at this time, are Ente Ulludukum and Kadamizhiyil . Both choreographed dances are a contrast in visual treats to each other, while retaining the same setting , which makes us think how much thought goes into make the dance ...

I wanted to share this capture of a lighthouse that I took yesterday  As we locked eyes; in the dark, she stood tall and majestic in the distance, in it’s own right. Lighthouses may have lost their relevance over time, but people still stop by when they see one and take in its grandeur for a wee moment, even with the hubris behind them. Armed with a will to weather even the strongest of storms and disasters, it maintains it's robustness, thwarting away each challenge and standing unperturbed. It's a beacon of hope, a navigator for the men of seas during choppy weather and a marvel in its own right. She was like a lighthouse, yet so impressionable. Someone who liked to hug the waves, but stood lonely during the nights - with a fire blazing within.  This piece is for her, even though we might never cross paths again. I hope that this lighthouse gives you the hope that you seek for.