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 Peruman Train Tragedy of 1988 was integrated into the storyline looks effortless. A remainder that imperfection can live long to tell a thousand tragic tales.
This segment, directed by Shankar Ramakrishnan, is one for the ages, leaving you with a tug at your heartstrings with every watch, as the climax unravels.
Reel 2 : Island Express
Leon and Zeba's Journey
The first subplot has that oh so wonderful touch of contemporary and naadan thanima infused in it. Leon, a writer awaits the publication of his first literary work, after 7 long years. Those years, efforts and the anticipation don't betray.
This journey may have been a journey of a lifetime, as the writer spiralled into the habit of smoking, possible writer's blocks, a chapter of blossoming love with an unconventional woman and harbouring the pain of an incident which we will come back to, later.
Zeba, a story that never ceases. An enigma if you will, leaving you guessing with every coy smile and the captivating charm of a French curse.
Vishal and Narayani's Chance Meet
How beautiful is it, to have a shoulder to just lay your head upon as you doze off to slumber, lending a gentle reassurance that you’re safe.
A home-bound soldier re-discovers the quiet joy of a mother’s love, eventually making plans to travel with her to the place that she held dearest to her heart. A quiet allure to experience what once felt like the whole world to her, and how time hasn’t healed her losses from that day.
Renjith's Reminisce
A red dress to remember his former lover by. The plans that they built to lead a life together, someday. She crosses Renjith's mind often, snapping him back to reality. A life that has been led since, with the distraction of success and company.
The Locomotive Driver and Kaveri's Exchange
A dilapidated lodge room serves as the setting.
It's resident, a former locopilot slowly makes preparations to go out. We see that the character appears calm, a bit sombre on this occasion.
It's an important date. The venue he was headed to, would be just incomplete without his silent presence. The longing of a fellow lodgemate girl could'nt budge him. A rare outing for a life reduced to alcohol and sorrow.
There’s a quiet dignity to him as he walks away from the lodge - and to anyone watching, he seems like a man walking under the weight of his own thoughts, eyes lowered, the gait of someone carrying both responsibility and redemption. The ground beneath him that once reduced his locomotive to wreckage and irreplaceable losses for many. Fingers were pointed at the face of negligence of others doing then, but today, he bears the brunt of it all
He doesn’t remember the faces anymore. Not the names either. But the ache has stayed, a steady hum beneath the noise of his bogey. The pain is shared. A quiet remembrance for the mothers, sons and lovers lost on that fateful day.
For him, it's never been about the memorial taking place at the venue. Perhaps that’s why he keeps returning. Not to atone, not to seek forgiveness - but to simply stand there by the rails, quietly reflecting among others who understand what absence feels like. Some losses, after all, are shared even by those who never knew each other.
The tranqulity of the Ashtamudi kayal bears witness to this, providing a calm ambience to the moment.
The Melting Point
The sextet whom we've known for a few minutes traverse steps to that weathered Peruman Bridge, which played witness to the tragedy on that day.
There's something so dignified, yet tragic as people come together to remember their loved ones on that day, every year.
The same people, a year older.
The departed ones, a year older in their memories
As the six characters meet, the boundaries between their stories blur. Their griefs, though personal, echo one another - proof that sorrow has its own way of finding companionship. Watching them, I couldn’t help but think how we all carry fragments of someone we’ve lost, tucked away in our quiet corners.
Source: Wikimedia Commons
A quiet smile that eases the sorrow, knowing that they are at a better place.
A quiet pat to the back for reassurance and forgiveness. The reserved strength to forgive, not that it would bring their loved ones back. Just in the quiet comfort that their legacy lives on, unwavering through time.
This segment is just so beautiful, yet heartbreaking. The way in which contemporary references have been infused with the beauty of a naadan theirivili in-between makes it feel just like home. A quiet intimacy that feels personal
A silent understanding that grief, too, can find companionship, and that even in tragedy, there lies a tender trace of home.
Share your thoughts below, and join me as we move on to the next tale from Kerala Cafe - along with my kutty musings, anecdotes and some personal reflections.
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