Going places?

Rameshbabu Praggnanandhaa

To see Praggnanandhaa, an 18-year-old chess whiz from Tamil Nadu, proudly posing in front of the international press with a big white ash stripe spread across his forehead as a symbol of his faith for a photo shoot reminded me of the numerous times I felt ashamed of wearing vibuthi in public during my childhood. 

Coming from a country where my ancestors were bought in as bonded labourers, I did not have many role models to follow, I was ashamed to be an Indian. The fact that many fellow Indians in my neighbourhood were loud and boisterous and had many rows with the laws did not help my perception of the race of my parents. The sing-song undulating tone of my mother tongue was a point of mocking and sneering by many. The behaviour of the few who make it a point to be noticed with their loud colour, unmistakable scents, and high-decibel speeches in buses made me want to disappear. 

Mother's eyes say it all!

The elaborate display of my religiosity was also a sore point. The near histrionic display of faith via visual and auditory exaggerations did not augur well with my mother's intention to inculcate dharmic values in me. She was fearful that all the Western education that was sweeping the world would make me a brown-assed white man who frowned at anything Indian. I knew I was. 

The opening of inner realisation, the opening of the mythical third eye, happened in my late teenage years and the years after that. One by one, I was exposed to more and more people who looked like me and spoke like me. Hey, my people were doing ok, I thought. Still, there was demarcation between outwardly displaying Indianness and accepting all as one, that we are the same. 

The world changed. Identity politics became the norm. My country, where I had grown up, had slowly become fundamentalistic in mindset. People had no qualms saying they, us, we and our people. People were one-tracked into dividing and subdividing amongst themselves. At about that time, being a Hindu became hip. Slowly people tried to publicise the hidden pearls of wisdom behind Hindu acts and rituals. 

An artist's conception of the Chandrayaan 3 lander
and rover on the Moon. ISRO

If the 1990s and the early 2000s, people of Chinese descent in my country were flying high with the phenomenal achievements of their ancestral country, China, from the yolk of hopelessness during the Great Famine and Cultural Revolution to becoming the factory capital of the world. Similarly, the second decade of the 21st century is a time for India to shine. Standing at the cusp of a successful landing of an AI-guided unmanned lunar mission and the precipice of a possible international chess champion, most Indians wear their identity on their sleeves. Nobody is ashamed to spread his vibuthi, sandanam or kumkum liberally on his forehead anymore. 

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

We all hear voices!

Maaveeran (2023)

Written & Directed by Madonne Ashwin 

"I am not doing it; it is the voice in my head. It is telling me all the time to do things. I am sorry!" says the hero. 

"You are telling me someone is telling you things," says the crooked badass politician as he slid the throat of his political manager. "This guy (pointing to dead man) has been nagging for 22 years. Don't do this, do this, not like that..."

That pretty much gave a perspective to the message hidden behind the movie's story. 

We are inundated with commands all the time. As toddlers, voices told us to watch our steps, be careful. As school children, we were warned not to forget to finish our homework. As teenagers, we got an earful for lazing around. Then we were told to get our lives together. Yet another forewarning that we are marrying the wrong person, and it goes on. Not to forget the inner voice that keeps harassing us that we would be punished for wilfully doing something 'against our conscience'. 

Then we sometimes must listen to both sides of equally compelling arguments to make a final decision. It takes work. 

Remember the other (they say better) half who constantly reminds you that we are forgetting this and failing that and are not good enough. As if the constant voices from your mother are not gruelling enough, in adulthood, we have to deal with our spouses, bosses and contemporaries. This and that, and the inner soul tickles every now and then. The constant battle between your heart and brain is quite deafening. 

Still, we are all left lonely. 

So, when somebody without form just appears out of the blue to talk to us, gives direction on what to do and goes to the extent of predicting what will happen next in your life, would it not be a welcomed godsend? Sadly, most people do not think so. We want agency over our lives. We rather experience life, the thrills, the spills, the falls, warts and all.  

This 2023 movie is a sci-fi Tamil comedy. It is interesting that these days, a family-fare movie can be so violent and still be accepted as normal. Violence is mainstream, and a machete or knife is always lying around. Pacifism is no longer a virtue. It no longer brings back the status quo. One must fight to claim and reclaim what is his. This is the new Hindu teaching, which was proposed by Subash Chandra Bose when he opposed Gandhi's Satyagraha and established INA. Godse justified Gandhi's assassination by suggesting that nature is violent and that there must be cataclysmic violent events for change to happen.

Sathya, an unassuming young man, is a cartoonist contributing to a local newspaper. He likes to keep his nose clean from controversies after seeing his father fight the unwinnable war against the establishment and losing his life. Unlike the character in his cartoon, who fights for justice, Sathya likes to avoid confrontations.

When his family is relocated to a shoddy low-cost apartment built by corrupt politicians, the dwellers of the flats fight back. Sathya tries to pacify everyone. 

After a lot of family melodrama about his cowardice, Sathya attempts suicide. He escapes death but somehow hears the character of his cartoon, Maaveeran, speaking and guiding him to bash up and defeat the politicians and his goons. An entertaining movie.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

How one prospers the other!

Wham! (Documentary; 2023)
Director: Chris Smith

This documentary is a poignant one. It plucks the heartstrings of many a child of the 80s. Those who grew to appreciate British Invasion music of the 80s of pop-sync, thick hair days and gaudy attire will indeed have wet eyes reminiscing the times when the duo Wham! hit the airwaves and the night market compilation cassettes.

It was a time when young girls used to go gaga over George Michael (aka Georgio Panayiotou @Yogh) 's hair, musculature and Colgate white dentition and Cypriot looks. Die-hard fans of Wham! or rabid fans of George Michael's would all be too familiar with the genesis of their collaboration; for me, this knowledge comes 40 years too late.

This Netflix documentary is done in a captivating way, avoiding too many current interviews of famous reminiscing about the good old times. Instead, it uses scrapbook format and old footage of Andrew Ridgeley and George Michael in the 80s and 90s when they slowly climbed the ladder of superstardom.

Their friendship started at 12 when George landed as a bespectacled shy immigrant student who found it hard to get into the school crowd. George somehow found the company in Andrew, also partially immigrant, the happy-go-lucky frequent prankster. George looked up at Andrew and slowly built confidence. Over the years, they found commonality in music. One thing led to another. George started composing songs, and the free and easy Andrew just tagged along. Unlike Andrew, George had big ambitions and somehow grew too big for a duo teen bop band and started a solo career.

This documentary ends with their 1986 amicable and emotional farewell concert in Wembley Stadium. George Michael's issues with his sexuality and brushes with the media and police had not surfaced then. Afar as the world was concerned, here was a young, highly talented music composer - songwriter and performer dying to unleash his talents to the world. He was a darling of the press and paparazzi until they came and bit his behind in years to come.

Imagine from Andrew Ridgeley's point of view. There was an awkward new boy, George, who used to look up at him and follow him around in and out of school. Slowly George built confidence and found his footing in what he wanted to do in life. Maybe it was Andrew's prodding. Together, they had a jolly good time. They went places and did things. They reached heights that low, middle class boys like themselves in the grey, economically gloomy Thatcherian times can dream of. They had it good when the going what was good. He unleashed the superstar buried within George, and the bird had to fly off the nest to explore newer pastures.

P.S. Wham!'s first record stirred the interest of the British public when their song 'Wham! Rap!' spoke about the ludicrous British welfare system, which could not create jobs for the youngsters but paid them dole instead to enjoy life. They expressed their grief in a piece of then-controversial music called 'rap', which was banned in many radio stations in America.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

 

Just enjoy the experience.

Jailer (2023)
Director: Nelson Dilipkumar

This is a Thalaiva movie. Period. Nobody else matters. A trip down memory lane of what stunts he could do and how he managed to maintain a fanbase after all these years is all that made the difference. It did not matter that the services of all the great Indian actors from all char dhams of Indian cinemas had made a cameo appearance here. It is immaterial that Padaiappa’s arch nemesis, Neelambari, is made to look like a lizard on the wall, clicking occasionally. Who cares about the holes in the fantastical storyline that would make a schoolboy cringe? It is Rajnikanth. Superstar is back!

This is what I missed wondering why everyone was praising Rajni’s latest release to high heaven. Even the usually level-headed ones are also pulled into the merriment. It is not about the story or realism. It is an experience, an immersion, and something entrenched in the psyche. Blame it on Tamil Nadu’s early politics and the involvement of screenwriters, musicians, actors and lyricists with local leaders; cinema is not only an escape route to the mundane, unsettling daily lives but a direction towards how the state should be.

Overall, a Tamil masala movie embodies what life is, how justice should be served and what the philosophy of life is all about.

A lot of responsibilities were placed on the shoulders of Nelson Dilipkumar after Rajnikanth’s past few performances have not really been outstanding. Nelson is a newcomer with previous successes in action thrillers with dark humour.

The recurring opening intertitle since the 90s.

Per his usual persona, Rajni appears as a benign and unassuming retiree jailer who carries life performing his prayers, playing with his grandson and doing work around the house. He morphs into a fire-breathing dragon (@dinosaur - a side joke in the movie), just like in Basha when his son, a police officer, goes missing and is apparently put down by baddies. He does not have to create a new punch dialogue, as reminiscing his previous lines is already more than adequate.

Jailer Muthu assumes his previous avatar of a ruthless prison warden to settle the score with all the gangsters around town. He uses his remote-control tactics to mobilise his reformed gang leaders to help him out. Rajni just has to slit a few throats and fire a few shots. He does not have dance in set dances. All Muthu has to do, is wave his spectacles and snap his fingers.

That is Thalaiva for you. A must for die-hard fans who yearn for the serotonin-infused feeling they felt during Rajni’s blockbusters of the 80s, Murrattu Kaalai and Muthu, for one. It does not matter if it defies logic. It is an experience. Indulge. Nerupudaa! Atharluthuleh? ஆதரத்துலே?

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Belacan

Migrant stories of yore from Malaysia by Farouk Gulsara

Ah Soh with Nand Lal, Saraswati’s son.
(Photo taken circa the early 2000s).
Courtesy: Farouk Gulsara

https://borderlessjournal.com/2023/08/14/belacan/

“There she goes again,” thought Saraswati as she cut vegetables she had never seen in her native country. “Here goes Ah Soh cooking her stinky dish again.”

Saraswati, Ah Soh and the rest of the pack are people commonly called fresh off the boat. They hail from various parts of China and India.

The loud beating of a metal ladle against a frying pan, accompanied by the shrilling Chinese opera over the radio and her shrieking at her children, need no guessing whose kitchen ‘aroma’ is coming from. Everyone knows Ah Soh is frying belacan, a fermented Malay shrimp paste.

https://borderlessjournal.com/2023/08/14/belacan/?

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Somebody grows our food!

Kadaisi Vivasayi (Tamil, கடைசி விவசாயி, The Last Farmer; 2022) 

Director: M. Manikandan

As you grow older, you think you grow wiser. You assume you are slowly getting the neck of how things work around you. You realise everything in Nature has a pattern, and everything around it is tailored to adapt and survive. If you were a farmer, you would figure out a greater force that balances everything. The worms, ants, bees, birds, butterflies and flowers are all part of this delicate equilibrium. No one member is more important than the other in each other's survival. Try killing the creepy crawlies like the DDT experience taught us, and you will have an eerie, dull, quiet spring with no colourful butterflies or chirping birds.

Like that, in other aspects of life, you mellow down. You realise that there is no point in getting excited about everything. Most things resolve by themselves. The younger ones around you think you are too laid back. You give in easily. They are convinced you have lost it. You are a toothless tiger. Worse, you are demented, delusional or living in your own world. With the progressive deterioration of your sensory faculties, they may even label you psychotic.

In the fast world that we live in, people have no patience for slow and 'archaic' thinking. They live in the fast lane and want today's outcome yesterday. Old technology deserves to be kept as property of the Archives. They want controlled double-blind studies to accept something or at least what everybody blindly agrees on. 

All in all, this film is poetry in motion. It does not outrightly tell you in your face not to be stupid, but it does it in a nuanced, subtle, non-preachy way. As we know, there is widespread resentment amongst farmers in India, predominantly in Tamil Nadu, that there is a worldwide conspiracy to abolish India's traditional way of farming. The ancient Indian farming method is supposedly eco-friendly and all-encompassing. Now, in a big way, multinationals are coming in with their chemical pesticide, herbicides, patented GMO seeds or even seedless fruits.

In the movie, an 80 year-year-old farmer lives alone on his large plot of land. He has no heirs but continues small-scale farming and rearing whatever he can. Life is increasingly difficult for him. When he approaches the local agro-shop for seeds to plant tomatoes, the dealer laughs at him, saying that the new breed of tomatoes is seedless. They are resilient and grow in abundance. So who needs traditional seeds when the new species does better? The old man, Mayandi, is puzzled and cannot understand how plants grow without seeds. He curses the shopkeeper in his heart, wondering how one would feel if his child has no seedlings, i.e. sperms?

You see, Mayandi, a traditional man, views all living beings kindly - his plants and cows too. He even tastes his cow feed before buying it to ensure its palatability! Hence, the village folks view him as being slightly mad.

Talking about being mad, Mayandi has a nephew, Ramaiyah, who became off his rockers after failing to marry his beau. Ramaiyah walks around like a madman talking nonsense, but it makes much sense upon scrutiny.

There are a lot of things going on. Many subtle tongue-in-the-cheek kinds of hitting modern technology. Even Bill Gates is mentioned here. As we know, he is on a crusade to patent seeds and control all world resources, including water. Iconography and songs about Murugan, the defender of everything Tamil, are liberally mentioned here.

Big corporations are trying to buy land from the farmers. Many of the villagers sell their lands for the joy of getting big bucks. One such person bought an elephant with his earnings and is making big bucks putting the elephant to work. He is well off and gives a condescending overview of people's naivety throughout the movie. Mayandi resists. Somebody puts three dead peacocks on his land. A police report is made when somebody sees Mayandi burying the birds. Mayandi is apprehended by the police for harming the national birds. The rest of the story is about how the villagers get together to help Mayandi plant the first rice crop for prayers, as he had promised earlier.

A good watch. One of the better movies of recent times. 4.5/5. It is a wake-up call for the current generation who do not appreciate agriculture and the governments of the world who do not emphasise food security. Many need to remember that the raw material that we obtain from supermarkets are grown by somebody. Money does not grow on trees, but food does.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.