It is the message

Silence (Nishabdham, Tamil; 2020)

This film was initially meant to be a silent movie, one without dialogues. It would have probably done better. The dialogue was a killjoy and laughable. A significant proportion of conversation of the film was in English, and that is the one that looks so fake, especially the lines written for Hollywood actor Michael Madson. 

It starts off as a paranormal tale but later goes on to give a serial killer angle to the final story. It is predictable with many glaring loopholes in the narration. The cast comprises an ensemble of a few Indian actors (R Madhavan, Anushka Shetty and a few young actresses) and many amateurs. 

Forget the story. What fascinated me about this film is how Indians in this story blended into American society. Filmed amidst the lush landscape around the outskirts of Seattle, Washington, we see how the characters mingled seamlessly partaking in what is considered the culture of the local populace. They indulge in classical music (the main character is a cellist), art, (the other character is a mute painter) and appreciate all the things people in their newfound land hold in high esteems. 

This does hold true to many economic immigrants of the late 20th and 21st century who screwed their own form of governance set up in their respective countries. Their way of life failed them, but they still proclaim to know better. They run down their host, denigrate their behaviour, criticise their way of life but still want to reap maximum benefit from the social safety net that the new country had to offer. They bite the hands that feed them and behead the people who think differently from them.

It appears that these people are doomed for failure wherever they go.

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You, your Master!

Yes, I do my job but I am not your slave!

They tell your vocation is God. They tell you stories of postmen clinging on their mail-bags like it was their dear lives they were holding on to in fatal motor-vehicle accidents. You have seen simple men giving their whole lives away doing repetitive mundane jobs to bring food to the table. You have heard of Men of God or self-appointment saviours of mankind in obscure places performing seemingly meaningless rituals that garner no worldly gains but only personal satisfaction. To the uninitiated, it may appear that they are just deluding themselves into doing something worthwhile for the rest of humanity. You, the simpleton, may not visualise it. In short, in the old world, a person's job was viewed as their purpose for living. You are born, you do your part for the continuity of species, then you wither away.

The thinking man, however, looks at it from a different angle. Sure, everyone is answerable during his assigned time and scope of duties. He is a worker between a particular time. He is at your service at the ping of your call. Beyond that, he is not going to lift his finger to do anything for you. Outside his pre-designated roster, he executes his other duties - a father, a husband, a friend or just to indulge in his recreational duties. For him, the purpose of life is to achieve personal development besides doing his part in the continuity of the species. There is no dichotomy between the upper echelons and the plebeians. Everybody just plays their part to oil the cogwheel of life.

The first model may be viewed as a fatalistic one. It is easy to compartmentalise people into pigeon holes to ensure the smooth running of a society. Manpower shortage will not arise. Individuals are born to do their designated jobs but there is no upward mobility of people. A cobbler's offspring will stay a cobbler. Aptitude and passion for other vocations are killed but there is plenty of room for specialisation and knowledge for the obscure. 

In the second prototype, there is space for the common man to expand. Man has the opportunity to determine his own destiny, away from dogmas of archaic rhetorics. The downside of such an arrangement is that there would be many jacks of all trade but master of none.

Albeit its ups and downs, the majority of a certain locale would decide which one works best for them. Newcomers, whether they like it or not, have to conform. perhaps, that was the reason for their migration to the new found land in the first place. And their old system failed to protect them and pushing them away from the land that they tried to build their legacy, traditions and footing.

You clear your mess!

https://asok22.wixsite.com/real-lesson 

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A nation in tatters?

Deep inside us, all of us know that this piece of cloth is the one that binds us together to maintain peace and harmony so that all of us can do our own things without any fear. We also know that this cloth, in spite of being just a piece of cloth, is no ordinary piece of fabric. It is the testimony of our sovereign nation. It is the same piece of material when hoisted upon being raised after winning a medal brings a tear or two to the eye of every true blue Malaysian.

Scenes like these, the national flag in various states of neglect and disrespect are common sights these days. What was hoisted in Merdeka month last year is left to weather the elements of nature all through the monsoon months, and this is what you get... A faded Jalur Gemilang flying majestically as its threads tatter away in shreds.
So, what are you going to do about as a loyal citizen? Are you going to make a citizen's arrest or just look the other way?
Watching the number of mad people working around amongst us, do you think it is a good idea to handle the perpetrator head on? Make a police report which would be lost among the pile of junk which would eventually make it to the recycle man's compound? Or blog about it?

National aspirations turned apparitions?

During one of my channels surfing sessions, to avoid meaningless advertisements and melodramatic mind boggling Kollywood dance-around-the-park sequence, I stumbled upon the live coverage our female badminton players slugging it out with the Indonesian pair in the finals of the Sudirman Cup recently. It was not their game that fascinated me (they lost meekly) but rather their (the players and their coach) off court antics. Somehow, in that live coverage, the camera was precariously close to both teams. Every word of their conversation was crystal clear to the TV viewers. The Indonesian coach was ranting away in Indonesian language giving final points in playing. The Malaysian coach, on the other hand, was talking away in what sounded like Mandarin. I do not know whether the coach is Malaysian or Chinese but I would not be surprised if he is Malaysian as it is a common sight indeed to find Malaysians finding it more comfortable (some calling it preserving the dying mother tongue - it used to be a common thing amongst Indian (Tamil) students in varsity teeming with the Anjaatha fearless Dravidian spirit) to chat to one another in their respective mother tongues - as if they are dealing in some kind of secret society transactions even in the presence of other ethnic group so much so that, like it or not, the languages seem to have seeped into others. Just that we do not use it. Just do not curse us in our face or behind our backs. It will alert our antennas and they would be trouble.
Here is a sample of a run around park sequence, just that this song is too melodious for anyone to surf away! 

National disintegration?

Let us watch this video. Yet another video with its message which had appeared in many forms.
http://www.malaysiakini.tv/video/20667/shot-4-times-and-dont-know-why.html

Merdeka!!!

The point I want to bring up is why, after 53 years of Independence, 40 years of National Education Policy, probably 2 or 3 generations of living in Malaysia, eating nasi lemak, thosai, burger and all those delicious delicacies that the nation can offer, the victim and his wife still finds it more comfortable to converse in Cantonese (a dialect native to a place thousands of kilometres) for a Malaysian web TV interview for a Malaysian audience. This is happening in a country with supposedly high literacy rate with a robust education system and is aspiring to be an educational hub of sorts. It is just like some who look up to the Middle East for fashion and way of living when there are abundance of cultures and styles to go around in this region. It does not speak much of our success in national integration. And the space in between seems to be getting wider. It goes beyond acquiring wealth and power in the country.