AMMA TALKIES

 The fact that our mother was crazy about movies would be an understatement; in fact, she was mad about them. Her younger sister Subhadra went one step further.This movie-madness gripped her entire family.

As children, we used to spend our summer holidays in our mother’s family home. Our life was centered around the village temple, pujas and festivals. Besides,we also spent time swimming in the village pond, walking along the paddy fields, climbing trees, attending local melas and the like. When we were getting a bit bored with our daily routine, comes the welcome announcement that Subhadra aunty (Subhadra Cheriyamma for us) was coming on a short visit. The whole household was suddenly filled with excitement and expectation.

Subhadra Aunty lived in Chennai (formerly Madras). Her husband was a prosperous auditor (still alive), auditing the accounts of movie stars and the like. Like all wives of prosperous businessmen, her time was spent on buying and trading gold, jewelry, sarees etc. with friends and relatives, besides, of course, watching movies. She made all of us laugh with her wit and humor, and entertained everyone with her fun-filled stories. Unlike the other women in the house-hold she hardly did any work---all of us were only too eager to please her and do everything on her behalf. The secret was her craze for movies.

Cinema shows in our Village

Our village at that time didn’t have any movie theatre. Since they were known as ‘talkies’ their owners purposely gave them attractive female names like Uma, Menaka, Urvasi etc!

One had to walk about three miles to reach a cinema theatre. Come evening, barring the old and the ill, rest of the members of our joint family -men, women and children-got ready, dressed in their fineries, and taking an early dinner start walking along the paddy fields in a long procession, purposefully towards the talkies. Soon the dusk would fall and darkness thickened. The leader in the front walked with a torch of burning dried-up sticks. Our loud talking and laughter and the noise we made perhaps led the local inhabitants to believe that we were an invading army!

After a long walk we finally reached the ‘talkies’, which was nothing but a shed, thatched with coconut leaves. There were no chairs or benches, but only soft white sand as flooring. The movies were projected on the screen with the help of a rickety projector, which used to stop from time to time. When the ads were shown with the face of popular actor MGR, the audience in the front stood up, clapped and whistled, adding to the excitement of the movie show. The entire audience laughed or wept loudly along with the hero and heroine, in unison. If the movie was boring, people, especially children fell asleep, lying on the soft sands, cooled by gentle breeze. The women chatted non- stop, animatedly discussing the other women who were absent, and complaints about their husbands, or exchanging juicy gossips.

By the time aunty left, we would have seen all the movies shown in the neighbourhood.

 

Indian Movies Movie- going was then a new trend. Movie-making started in India in the early twentieth century. The ones initially produced were silent movies.  The silent Malayalam movie Vigathakumaran (1928, J. C. Daniel Nadar) was the first Indian social drama film. The first sound-film in India was produced in 1931. Thereafter, ‘Talkies’ dominated the scene between 1930s and mid- 1940s.The period from the late 1940s to the early 1960s is regarded by film historians as the Golden Age of Indian cinema. Some of the greatest Indian movies were produced during that period. This was followed by the release of many memorable movies, both in Hindi as well as the regional languages.

In Trivandrum While we were staying in Trivandrum a trunk call used to come from Madras (No STD calls or cell phones at that time) to our mother conveying that Subhadra aunty was reachingby morning flight the next day, and that all movie shows on that day ought to be booked for her and our mother. Trivandrum at that time had a few movie theatres.

As soon as aunt’s car came to our gate, mother rushed towards it, carrying a vessel full of porridge and milk, for their lunch. Aunty never alighted from the car fearing that they would be late for the movies. The sisters re-surfaced late at night, with a contented look on their faces, after watching all four shows. Next day, early morning, aunty went back. It seemed she came all the way just to watch four movies in a row!

Unlike our mother, our father generally showed little inclination towards movies. He was of view that they were cheap emotional stuff which could adversely affect our minds. He preferred to watch dance-dramas, kathakali and the like or attend classical music sessions. I recall watching only two movies with him-Rama Bhaktha Hanuman and Sita, both being mythological films. Father being busy till late night in his research lab, we had ample opportunities for watching movies!

Besides Malayalam, our mother watched Hindi and Tamil movies too. She didn’t understand a word of Hindi, but she could follow the stories well. Films Ganga-Jamna, Sujatha, Do Ankhen Bara Haath, Do Bigha Zamin, Bandhni made a lasting impression on her.  She had Chitthi, our elderly neighbour, as her companion. Sometimes, we, children accompanied her. Along with her we watched Tamil films like KalyanaParisu and NenchilOruAlayam (Dil Ek Mandir).

Mother’sFriendstoo were equally crazy about movies. Mrs. X who visited us frequently had filmi-connection. She and her daughters watched movies for a different reason --to learn about the latest fashion trends in clothes and jewellery! I remember her asking us once” Did you notice the ear-studs the heroine wore in that scene?” Another was a lady doctor gifted with great story-telling ability. She narrated the stories of hit movies we couldn’t see, line by line, choked with emotion, so much so that we didn’t have to watch those movies in the theatre! Suneeta our family friend, was mother’s constant companion.

Mix-up

Once she prompted us to watch a movie in which actress Sheela was supposed to have acted as a District Collector.Ofcourse, she didn’t remember the name of the movie,but said it was the matinee show.My sisters and myself went for the show. As soon as the movie began, we started looking for the Collector, but she was nowhere to be seen. We consoled ourselves that she might make an appearance after the interval. No way. Finally, the movie ended without the Collector making an appearance at all. We went home and angrily asked mother how she could send us to watch that terrible movie, to which she said apologetically that the Collector episode was in the morning show, and she got simply mixed up, as she went for all three shows the day before!

All aloneYears rolled by. Our father passed away.Chithi sold her house and went to live with her children. Suneeta was caught up in her busy office work. I thought our mother would stop watching movies after all, but she continuedher movie-going, that too with a vengeance. It was for her an escape from daily trifles. While alone in real life, she had the heroines and their entire brood as company, at least for a few hours.

Changing sceneSince our home needed extensive repairs, we moved to another area within the city. To my mother’s great delight, there was a triplex theatre near-by, showing three movie shows at the same time! Every week the movies changed- a wonderful harvest for her! To her delight our helper Sarojini too was crazy about movies. She used to cook our dinner early, and then the duo disappeared. Sarojini, although literate, never spent any time reading or writing. The only time I saw reading a newspaper was when she would search for ads on new movies.

Soon we moved back to our old home, after it was repaired. Sarojini got married and left us. But mother didn’t abandon the movies. She used to stand near the gate of our home to find someone willing to accompany her for the movies. Sarojini sometimes happily accompanied her, leaving her howling children with her sulking mother-in-law! (What an escape!). Slowly, mother started going alone without looking for any company.

The fellows at the theatre welcomed her- she being a dedicated customer. They kept a special chair for her in some of the theatres! The obliging boys at the theatres used to hold her hands help her climb the steps, and lead her to the hall, or bring tea or coffee to her at the intervals. Trivandrum at that time was a safe place for women, allowing women like mother go even for second-shows, unaccompanied!

Changing Technology    During all those years movie-going changed profoundly. From rickety, thatched theatres they became pucca structures.Fromair-cooled, they became air-conditioned; from single they became multiplexes. Now they are mostly located in malls to attract the wandering youth. In modern era one can watch technically superior movies comfortably at home, over OTT platforms. Movie-technology also underwent vast changes- from silent to motion pictures to talkies, from black and white to techni-colour to digital.

The coming of the TV, especially the colour TV, created a revolution in our daily lives. By that time mother’s health started deteriorating fast. My brother Unni bought her a colour TV which would churn out movies all the time. Although very convenient, mother missed the exhilarating autorickshaw ride through lanes and by-lanes of the city; the kindness of the staff of the movie theatres, chatting with friends and acquaintances whom she accidently met at movie houses. The TV shows went on for sometime till her death in 1989. She passed away peacefully, perhaps dreaming of some happy-ending movie in her last moments! Subhadra aunty also passed away soon. They didn’t just go away like that, but left behind in us too a craze for movies!

 Mother made valiant attempts to keep herself happy, by focussing on joyful things in life, instead of wallowing in self-pity. We miss her presence in our lives, but is consoled by the feeling that she may be watching movies (hiding from our father of course!) without breaks in heaven, in the company of her sisters, especially Subhadra Aunty and friends like Chithi and Mrs X. Life was indeed a technicolour movie for her, although occasionally it turned black & white!

On a recent visit to our village, came evening, our cousins Chandrika and Kala, by instinct or on an impulse, happily led me to a movie theatre (no more called ‘talkies’), proving that our mothers’ genes for movie- going stayed safely within us ------------------