Doggone Man!

Chief, Doggy extraordinaire
Credit: IMDB

I watched an episode of the documentary 'Forensic Files' where a dog, when it failed to protects its masters, still managed to bring justice to the masters via its DNA to expose the identity of their murderers. 

A group of gangsters had entered a couple's home mistakenly thinking that the stash cocaine that they were looking for was there. Chief, a pit bull-Labrador mix pet of the household, pounced at the intruders only to be subdued by a gunshot on its shoulder. The gangsters continued their harassment by shooting the wife dead and giving non-fatal shots at the husband. Despite his near-fatal wound, Chief pounced back on the shooter as he was aiming at his master's chest. The shooter turned and shot Chief right between the eyes. The couple and their pet succumbed to the injuries eventually. Despite all the extensive police investigations, the perpetrators could not be pinpointed. Finally, Chief's DNA and furs were instrumental in bringing a guilty verdict to the gangsters. Poetically, even after its death, a dog did his duty to bring justice to his Masters by bringing to light their killers. I am pretty sure that is what his owner would have wanted. 

That episode left a sour aftertaste after learning what a domestic animal could do for his master; serve even after his death. I could help but compare to the news that had been hitting the headlines recently. 

The Human Resources Minister recently made a spot check into some foreign workers' living conditions in a particular small glove-making factory and was shocked to discover that their hostels were comparable to cowsheds.

It is besides the point whether his officers were ignorant to all these and that the minister was living under a rock, this is how human beings treat their kind. The bosses depend on their workers' loyalty and toiling under extreme conditions to fatten the company coffers, and this is what they get in return - living conditions fit for cattle. 

Then there was a woman whom I met in the course of my daytime work who just enough to sneak herself into the country to work clandestinely in a small factory but not intelligent enough to care for her biological organs. When the employer, the biological seed contributor, after discovering her parturient state, hurried off and claimed ignorance. That is how much loyalty is reserved for a fellow human being. 

For a piece of discarded bone, a pat on its head and a walk with his leash, I guess a dog would serve its master with its life. That is much more what a thinking Homosapien would do for another.

P.S. The word 'Doggone' is a euphemism for 'Goddamn it."

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Match made in heaven!

As part of the ritual after marriage, newlywed Brahmin couples are told to search for Arundathi-Vasishta pair of stars (Alcor-Mizar). These double stars make part of the Great Bear constellation and named after a great sage, Vasishta, and his philosopher wife, Arundathi. They were an exemplary couple that complemented each other, without one dominating over the other. 

Unlike most double stars where one star would be revolving around the other, the Arundathi-Vaisishta pair orbits around each other. The Hindu traditions believe that that is how a husband-wife pair should be - the couple should work together; not one exerting dominance over the other!

Varaha

It is beyond comprehension how ancient Indians knew so much about astronomy. These traditions have a long history that predates Corpenicus and Gallilee. At a time when the world was arguing about flat Earth and imprisonment of scientists whose discoveries clashed with the Church, the Indians knew that Earth was a sphere. Varaha, Vishnu's boar avatar, tried to save a spherical Earth from the major floods on his snout. (Not a disc)

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The sweet smell of freedom

Swathanthryam Ardharathriyil (Malayalam, Freedom at Night; 2018)

In terms of world cinema, this movie not score high on the scale of creativity. As far as Indian cinema is concerned, at least one given to minute details to the storyline, this would be number one.

Like Papillon and Shawshank Redemption, this film centres around the planning and the execution of a jailbreak.  The first quarter of the movie shows the circumstances upon which the hero gets imprisoned. In prison, he plots his prison break after recruiting his accomplices. There is not a dull moment as the storyteller managed to fill up the story with characters with compelling backstories. The props look real, and the actors are made scruffy and muscular enough to fit the bill of hardcore criminals. The fights look authentic and short enough to get the message. The music suits the situation, and the escape plan appears believable enough. There are a few failures and sudden changes of plan to hold the suspense. 

The inmates' plan is to dig their way out of their bunks to get to the outside of the prison complex and subsequently escape by boarding the midnight train, hence the title 'Freedom at midnight'. The only thing that kind of defies logic is how they managed to wash that amount of sand and dirt down their tiny toilet. Indeed it would have clogged up in no time.

Besides that tiny faux pas, it was a good attempt at procedural drama. 3.5/5.

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Yada yada, blah blah!

 Joker (ஜோகார், Tamil; 2016)

Before Joaquin Phoenix came out in the 2019 DC comic film as the legendary Joker, there was already an award-winning Tamil movie with the same name. Unlike the DC version, this one is a low-budget production. And like the former, both are political and social satires of the system that we are living. More often than not, in our societies, we give people the liberty to speak a little bit too much. Some talk just because they want to be heard. Others vocalise just because God gave them a mouth. We tolerate many because we pity them; we know it is unkind to be cruel against the mentally challenged. We let them just blabber, but the problem is that mental illness can be contagious sometimes. 

With the advent of social media, there is no limit to how much stupidity can spread like wildfire and profound wisdom.

Unfortunately, life is not so straight forward. Muddled somewhere inside the pile of insanity is what is supposed to be the truth. Because of all the murmur of uncertainty and the noise of distortion, real facts remain buried in the rubble.

There was a time when only the learned would be allowed to speak, and the rest would listen. One needed a certain amount of intelligence to put forward their opinion. With the democratisation of speech and empowerment to express thoughts, everyone gets the opportunity to get their 2-cents worth of view across. Do we call this giving the oppressed a voice to speak? Is the converse the rule of elitist? Is the former pushing for chaos and the latter a precursor to leftist's wet dream of creating unthinking automatons?

This bizarre movie starts with a man who is living in a debilitated hut. Starting his day answering calls on his cheap mobile phone answering to the name of President of India, rubber-stamping his letter with the Republic's emblem and pushing his weight around his neighbourhood. Slowly we realise that he is delusional. He has a comatose wife at home who became so after a freak accident caused by the government machinery's corruption. He tries to obtain a court order to allow euthanasia on his wife but repeatedly fails. The whole film just shows the vulture of politicians and his sycophant businessmen and hyena henchmen who hawk on Government projects to maximise profit and pay back the minimum to the gullible public.

Without a cerebral matter, imagine even ants can organise such complicated colonies, complete with armed forces, reserves for a rainy day, and even sick bays to care for the infirm. Why do we need politicians to guide us through? Seriously, mankind should have stopped at the oldest profession of all time, not start the second oldest, which is close to the first! 

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Mission accomplished!

Mr Dalip Singh Kokra
(1922-2020)

Yet another story of an immigrant who started with nothing and went on to create a legacy of sorts for himself and his offsprings. I had the pleasure of knowing Uncle Dalip Singh when I entered my wife's family more than thirty years ago and had taken part in many happy and sad events as they came and went.

Over the years, I made a composite picture of his life and times starting as a night school guard and gradually rising to be the President of the local temple.

As a young man, with scant of education, he arrived in Malaya with hope in his chest, strength in his limbs and resolve on his mind. As a night guard, he had built quite a reputation as a goto man for petty cash. Towards the latter part of the month, it was a common sight to see peons, clerks and even teachers forming a beeline outside his quarters requesting friendly loans (at 'reasonable' interest, of course). He was a leading a thrifty life, appreciating the simpler things of life to raise his five children. Not happy with just wasting his day time idly, he decided to become a travelling salesman. With his faithful wife as an aide, he drove to small rubber estates and oil palm plantations to sell sarees and Indian clothes on credit. With the little remunerations that he obtained from these, he uplifted the standard of living of his family. After he retired from Government employment, he moved into a large landed property in the more affluent side of town. With his tenacity, he educated his children and became a respected figure in society. 

He is a living proof to the adage 'hard work never kills anyone'. Until about six years ago, at a ripe age of 92 years, he was still seen driving around the housing estate. After spending quality time during his 98th birthday with his loved ones, he decided to call it quits. He became progressively weak, bade his farewell and passed the baton to the generation next to bring it to the finish line.

Some would simply throw in the towel at first sight of an obstacle. They would blame everyone else except themselves for their predicament. Others would approach these hurdles somewhat differently. When the barricade is too high, they will go under it.  If it is thick, they will go around it. Wailing and garnering sympathy is not going to take us anywhere. That, maybe the life lesson I learnt from Sadarji.

Parnam, till we meet on the Otherside if we do!

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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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A grim look at life and death...

Ee.Ma.Yau (Malayalam: ഈ.മ.യൗ, R.I.P.; 2018)

Director: Lijo Jose Pellisery.

Parents always think that children are dumb; that there are unaware of the 'adult' kind of stuff that happens around them. Our parents thought so too. Sometimes, they would talk in codes and other times they would say in our absence. We were not living in a mansion for the void to absorb all the vibrations of their speeches; hence, we pretty much heard everything.

During one of these instances, we heard of the death of a respected man in the community. He was a pleasant Tamil school teacher who was generous with his smile and was often consulted to aid in dealings with the local authority. Naturally, the community was shocked one day when news spread of his suicide. He had apparently decided to jump off the balcony of his 13th floor flat.

Everyone was there at his funeral. Some came to show their last respect, others probably came to catch a glimpse of how a mangled body of a jumper would look like. The flat dwellers had an awkward moment of amazement and amusement when from nowhere, a lady barged in at the heights of the funeral ritual, thumping her chest and wailing, claiming to be the deceased second wife. I guess the mourners had more than what they had bargained for. In their entertainment deprived day to day living, this incident was a talking point for the next few weeks. Along the way, housewives started adding more masala about the dearly departed and his double life.

This movie reminded me so much of the eavesdropping of the conversation between my mother and our busybody neighbour. It was beyond my control - our living space was small.

I am starting to like this director, Lijo Jose Pellisary. Making films with plenty of commotion while telling a simple story must be striking a chord with many Indians. His movies are even reviewed by Westerners too - maybe they are just there for the Indians to hit the 'Like' button to monetise their Youtube channel.

The story takes place by the sea amongst a close-knitted fishing community. Everyone in the village is Christian. Maybe that is what the Hindus are complaining. Most fishermen and their families have all been converted by the evangelist. The de facto leader of the village is a priest. Basically, he pretty much runs the whole show. The police listen to him. The village doctor takes his advice, and the priest decides who can be buried in the village cemetery.

An elderly man, a retired mason, Vavachan, returns home with a live duck to an angry wife. The wife is crossed with him for disappearing without a trace for some time. He has an adult son who has two daughters. The wife cooks the duck while he chit-chats with his son, Essy and enjoys drinks together. As the son answers a call, Vavachan collapses and dies from an apparent cardiac event. A commotion starts as the neighbour go scurrying to arrange for his funeral. The pastor is summoned. Somewhere along the way, somebody mentions foul play in Vavachan's death. The pastor, who enjoys crime novels, is implanted with the idea. The doctor and police are summoned, but both seem to drag their feet as it is the dead of night.

In the meantime, unbeknownst to the family, Vavachan's second wife and her children appear. They scream murder and demand justice. Essy gets angry with the pastor for even suggesting unnatural death. He slaps the Vicar, who then denies Vavachan a burial space. An amok Essy digs a grave right in front of his house to bury his father. End.

I get a sense that the storyteller has a bone to pick with the clergy. Portraying the Vicar as a grumpy, pompous and egoistic man, he does not display an image of piety. It is also suggested that that the church may be the playmaker in many societal decisions. People generally conforms to the rules set by the clergy to appease everyone. They think peaceful living with fellow kind protects each other's interest. It appears now that the set of rules set out for the people are more inhibitive and meant only to serve a select few. 

They say that Man is a social animal who needs to be in the company of others. From the time of the cavemen, we moved in groups to look out for one another. We found strength in numbers. Perhaps in modern times, we find annoyance in crowds. Life has become too comfortable that people try to create problems when there are none. Maybe we are moving into an era where every man is an island by himself. He may find peace in solitude.

(P.S. Ee. Ma. Yau. is a contraction for Eesho Mariyam Yauseppu or Jesus Mary Joseph. It is often used as an exclamation, much like OMG.)

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