The Song of an Introvert

Silence.

You recharge me. You comfort me.

I can think freely when you are with me.

I swim in the solitude of your sweet silence.

Silence.

Finished

Seems like I’ve come out of a stressful exam. An exam that was way too prolonged and too complicated.

It began the day I received news that my father-in-law passed away. In that second, three things came to mind:

1. My own father’s sudden departure 2 years back
2. A feeling of shock and horror, resulting in state of speechlessness
3. My father-in-law’s words that after him, I must take care of the family.

In an extended family like my wife’s, there are many layers of command and control, elements of almost a “tribal” unspoken understanding of relations, obligations and traditions. Having come from a family of five, and thus unfamiliar with the notion of being part of a larger family of uncles, nieces and aunts, little did I expect the shock and awe that awaited me.

I was thrust into the role as the person filling in the very large shoes of my father-in-law. I became the so-called “Man of the Moment” – at every major decision point, I had to call the shots, and at every major function, I had to be seen calling the shots, even if I totally didn’t have to. I had to ensure that relations with all the relatives were maintained at the status quo (which was at level “excellent”, thanks to my wife’s generous parents), and that I did all that was necessary for my wife’s family. Unfortunately, the level “excellent” was something I could not maintain, because my father-in-law was a oft-forgiving man, who saw that it was in his family’s best interests to maintain cordial relations with everyone – he was an extremely popular man.

For 40 days, we organised prayer sessions for my father-in-law – essentially the recitation of surah Yaasin, some zikr (repeated invocations of Allah) and the do’a (supplications) for the well-being of my father-in-law. Slowly, I realised that people expected many more things out of prayer sessions than just spiritual fulfilment of their prayers for the deceased. They wanted to be treated like guests at a wedding – served with tea, good food, high quality customer service and proper invitations to the prayers. They wanted to gossip at the prayers – who did what, how, when. They even began to gossip and speculate various things about my wife’s family. And me.

It was tiring. I felt that it was not meant to be like this. My wife’s family went through a lot during these 40 days, and my own family could feel the strain. My elder son hated crowds, and my infant son hated the aura. My wife hated everything – it was a pure pain in the vitals to have to lug young children to a place which is filled with people making comments about how to bring your kids up the way they did 40 years back.

But we persevered – I did everything I did for my father-in-law which I did for my own father after he passed away. For me, the spiritual aspect of the prayers is crucial – it is a chance for the everyone involved to also seek repentance and gain barakah when doing prayers for the deceased.

So when the 40 days ended, we sighed a huge breath of relief – we kind of missed doing the prayers, but we did not miss the relatives. In fact, we were clearer who were the ones who would come forward to help us, and who would not hesitate to bad-mouth us in our own homes.

I’m just relieved that everything’s over now – time to catch up on some sleep.

10 heads

Raavanan is one of Mani Ratnam's best works so far. I think he's learned quite a few things from his previous ambitious project, the bi-lingual "Aitha Ezhuthu/Yuva" which fell flat on it ass.

Everyone knows the story of Raavanan - or at least the part which matters. He kidnaps Sita in revenge for the humiliation suffered by his sister Surpanakha's whose nose/ear is cut off by Raman's younger bro Lakshmana. Raman goes in search of Sita and then a bloody battle ensues...

The movie unabashedly transplants this story into the modern-day Indian forest, complete with references to the epic. The difference is that Mani chooses to explore the man behind the Raavanan mask, and maybe explore an "alternate future" where Raman character isn't really the Captain America/Barney/Ilaya Thalapathy Vijay whom everyone thinks he is. Or maybe it is an attempt to say that epics often get re-enacted in real life all the time, with alternate forms.

For most Tamil cinema viewers, there would seem to be a no story here - it's a "wafer-thin" plot which is predictable. However, it is precisely this wafer-thin plot that Mani Ratnam takes his time with, fleshing out each character, and lovingly painting a picture. No "Villu" here, sorry.

Vikram's acting as Raavanan (or 'Veera' as he is known in the movie) is unparalled. All the more that people can actually compare his performance with Abishek Bachan's protrayal of the same character in the Hindi "Raavan". Vikram totally transformed himself into a multi-dimensional character is capable of both bottomless hate and unselfish love. The little mannerisms he adds here and there add up to a larger-than-life Veera, respected headman of his people, fearless for his life and clear in his conscience.

The background score and songs supported the mood of the movie. AR Rahman composed a few outstanding songs, with the best of it unfortunately not being included in the CD album.

One of the movie's greatest strengths lay in its photography - there is something in the artistic human eye which cannot be captured by 3D technology.

If you enjoy watching Vikram and like great cinematography, and wouldn't mind Aishwarya trying to scowl, and love AR Rahman's music, this movie's worth it.