Lust for a cost comes with a cost….

Last week I planned to have a movie marathon and in the process happened to watch this Korean movie titled ‘Samaria’ or ‘Samaritan Girl’ by none other than the great director Kim-Ki-Duk. With it my movie marathon halted for a whole week. The movie affected me so much that I went around telling anybody who would listen about the theme of the movie.

As the thought kept haunting me, I came across a news snippet on a similar subject - http://edition.cnn.com/2009/WORLD/asiapcf/09/24/hongkong.teenage.prostitution/index.html?iref=mpstoryview

Yes.. the Samaritan Girl is a similar story happening in Seoul (if am not wrong) where two young girls Jae-yeong and Yeo-jin, both in early teenage try to make money to get air tickets to Europe, their dream destination. Jae-yeong is the one who does the ‘job’ and Yeo-jin handles the calls, clients, cash in a diary and keeps a look out for cops for her. The movie gives a glimpse of the family background of Yeo-jin, who is the daughter of a loving cop dad. There is not a mention about Jae-yeong’s family at all.

The story is presented in a way that Jae-yeong actually enjoys what she does and calls herself ‘Vasumitra’ – a mythical famous prostitute in India, but Yeo-jin has her own reservations about what they do to save money. She keeps advising Jae-yeong not to get emotionally attached to anyone but as you could guess, our Jae-yeong does get attracted to a musician, one of her clients and all goes wrong. In one such situation where Jae-yeong is with a guy and Yeo-jin loses few minutes in alerting her when the cops come to the motel, Jae-yeong jumps out from the second or third floor of the motel and is hurt really bad. In the hospital, Yeo-jin tries to get the information about Jae’s parents but she wants to meet only the musician she had fallen in love with.

Yeo-jin tries to persuade the guy to come visit her dying friend but the cost she had to pay becomes her virginity. But alas… Jae-yeong dies with a beautiful smile even before her best friend brings the musician to her. With this ends the part of Vasumitra.

The second part of the movie is the one that does justice to the title of the movie… the Samaritan Girl. Now the heartbroken Yeo-jin feels guilty for what she has done and wants to get rid of the diary and money that stays as the testimony to their action. Just when she burns them off, she realizes that she can do better than just burning it off to get away from the guilt. And here comes the Kim-Ki-Duk twist. She wants to return every penny earned to the rightful owners… but how? After having sex with all those men - as a tribute to Jae-yeong. This was the part that ripped my heart. Girls that young do not know what they get themselves into and what more they do to get out of the guilt feeling.

The scenes where older men meet Yeo-jin is really painful, especially when one elderly guy calls up his own school going daughter to check if she is in the tuition and not with any guy like this girl he had slept with. Now comes the next stab in our heart. Yeo-jin’s dad who happens to be a cop comes to a motel to investigate the murder of a young girl and sees his daughter in the hands of a man in the opposite building. The ‘almost dead’ expression on the father’s pain is just….. With this ends the second part of the movie.

In the final part, the father sees the innocent sleeping daughter of his in their home and weeps silently thinking what has happened for such a fate to befall his daughter. He stalks the men trying to meet his daughter. He even encounters one such guy in front of his family, hits him hard and asks ‘How can you sleep with a girl younger than your own daughter’ and leaves the place. The guy realizes his guilt and commits suicide by jumping off his multi-storied apartment. Yeo-Jin meets another guy again in the park and her dad knocks him to death in the restroom there. Yeo-jin sees the corpse, does not realize who has done it, scores out his name from Jae-yeong’s diary and throws it off, indicating that she is through with her tribute. Her father sees the diary and appears to understand something and that his daughter will not get back to this.

The same day, he packs some food and suggests to Yeo-Jin that they visit her mother’s grave and  spend the weekend in the country side. And they do just that. During the trip, Yeo-Jin expresses a desire to drive the car but is scared to try it. In the next shot, we see her father driving the car in a very remote jungle…IN the river water, not on the banks and the young Yeo-jin fast asleep in the car. Her father gets out of the car and when Yeo-jin gets out too, she calls out for her dad and the next thing we see is her father strangling her to death and burying her. But wait… that’s only a dream or possibility. When she wakes up, we see her father painting the pebbles on the river bank in yellow color to pave a route and teach her how to drive within the painted path. While she is at it, we hear her dad calling up some cop and providing them the location of their whereabouts. Just when we see Yeo-jin getting a hang of driving on her own, a patrol-car pulls in and the father silently leaves with them.

Yeo-jin tries to drive fast to reach her dad but gets stuck in the muddy bank and with that the  movie ends. Its left to the viewers to assume what happens next. What will she do all alone? Will she get back to prostitution? Or, will she be more responsible being alone? Will her dad be released soon to take care of her daughter? Is teaching her to drive mean that her father things she is a grown-up now and has to handle things on her own? Too many questions… and there can be equal number of answers.

It was a beautiful story and I felt these kinds of movies should be showed to all teenage school children to educate them the consequences of their immature decisions. Wish I could do something about this….

So Long Farewell….

Greatness is not in knowing history… but in creating history… and she did.

This is in continuation of my post on (Tuesday, September 30, 2008) about our Visalakshi Avva only that in less than a year after that post, she is no more. Her soul left her material body on July 26th, 2009 and I really do not know where her soul wanders or does a thing called soul exists.

Talking about dead people’s soul, I had a weird fantasy when I was a kid. My paternal grandma was dead before I was born. So I used to wish so badly that her soul becomes my best friend and help me in the exam hall with answers without anybody’s knowledge. I used to wish she would convince my parents through magic to take me to a restaurant someday… or to Kodaikanal hill. Going to eat-outs did happen… but the tour part never happened :-D. May be my granny had other plans… if only the ‘soul’ really existed.

Jokes and juvenile desires apart… the truth that hits hard is my Visalakshi avva is no more. The great lady who strode this earth until a month back will never again be available, at least not to our mortal beings.

On 19^th of July - Sunday, avva had fallen down and hurt her leg. Her 86yr old body was not able to take the strain and made her bed ridden. It was a shock to all of her siblings. We always used to tease that avva would live for another 10yrs at the least and watch all the current mega serials (soaps on TV) come to an end. But as fate would have it.. avva died without knowing the end of those stories.

On Thursday (23^rd), when mom called me to say that avva had collapsed into coma and wanted me to come there ASAP… I had no control over the tears that knew no boundaries. When I reached Pollachi on Friday, avva looked to be in a deep sleep, only that she did not want to wake up when called. She never came out of her coma. The day had MANY people visiting her.. her surviving siblings and their off spring, her cousins, grandpa’s relatives, etc. All had come in the anticipation that it would be her last day.

But the brave woman that she is, she was struggling to come back to normal. I say this because the many doctors in our family kept telling that she is a will-powered woman and her pulses were getting stronger. With hopes that she would recover, me and mom came back to CBE on Sunday (26^th) since I had planned to return to B’lore the same day. But within few hours we got to hear the much anticipated, not at all pleasing news. Avva passed away at 3:45pm on 26^th July, 2009.

We rushed back to Pollachi and I was in a confused state looking at avva’s body. No tears came. I was only able to murme “why did you wait for us to leave and then die”. I know.. it sounds weird. Avva moved on without any trouble to herself and others… in other words, peacefully.

We the grandchildren present were Radha akka, Arthi, Jagadish and myself. All the others were off in alien lands not able to be here nor … I do not know how to end this sentence. I believe all of them were as speechless as we were. I saw Radha akka weeping silently and understood how much she loved avva. And there was Arthi with no commotion at all and of course Jagadish who was running around doing all that is required for the funeral. Maama, avva’s eldest surviving child, was inconsolable, but he composed himself as was required.

My anna (Magesh), an introvert, didn't have much to say (at least to me). His sad, broken voice asked me “I feel like seeing avva for the last time… will it be possible for you to send me some pictures”. That explained a whole lot of things to me. Later on, I did manage to send few of the photographs to anna and my cousins living abroad.

Meanwhile, Ramu anna had sent across an e-mail to all of us about what avva meant to him. Wanted to share that with you all…..

Date: Monday, July 27, 2009, 2:00 PM - From Ramu Anna:

Like every other grand children, I also have enough sweet memories with my Avva Visalatchi. Who is not famous but if someone could write a book about her, she has enough in her life as famous as any other great souls lived in this earth.

Though she provided a shelter to our family during our tough time, she started filling my memory after I was four. My first memory about her was, going with her to local bargain vegetable market where people buy things in small quantities (Kurru). Later years, I remember my chittis wedding and how she managed every single activity such as negotiating contracts with different peoples like manavarai alangaram (wedding hall decoration), Jewellery Sekar, Adikai head cook, buying groceries from wholesalers and etc.  I remember, she hosted her home for her niece and nephews wedding too. Later when I was 6 or 7, I regularly going with her to ration shop and also timber mart to buy Woodstock and also wood dust. It was sometimes fun and also boring if the queue was long. The reason she took us, we could get extra since I was an additional headcount. Later years, Radha also joined with us. When we start each academic year, she brought us second hand books from others and also prepared note books from unused pages from previous year. She took me to hair dresser asked him to do a close cut so that I don’t need a hair cut for another 3 months. She personally worked with our tailor to stitch our school uniforms with folders and each year shed removed stitches and we used them for at least 3 years. From that age, I learned every basic thing such as how to live even with limited fortune, necessity of survival and also taking care of the family, why and how to help others with what we got.

Later years, we continued living with her. Many many good memories. Some of the best things that I got are only from her. For instance my first cycle, computer science course and also due to my poor higher secondary marks, I used her help again to get UG college admission.

She was like a Ala Maram (Banyan Tree) for us. She raised her children and also helped raining their children. I am very sure; every one of her grand children has similar stories like mine about her contribution to success of their life. I never remember if she kissed me even once but I know she was loving me and her other grand children to the core. A great soul full of love but never afraid of anything including her own death.

I have seen very closely at many times on how she worked on every possible thing to spend and manage her fortune, helping her family, her sibling's family, her children and grand children but I have never ever seen she has requested any help from anyone or at least from us.

With full of tears in my eyes. I am saying this, she never gave me an opportunity paying me back, so Avva made me lifelong Kadankkaran (debtor) for her.

Ramu –  grandson of Visalatchi Ka

Date: Wed, 29 Jul 2009 00:45:35 -0700 - From Me

Hi All...
   As ramu anna rightly said... avva was just more than a mere grand mother to all of us. I think we all carry a trait of her in us... and are glad for that.
I've attached few photos from her funeral.. a few snapshots of her last stint on this earth... Missing avva a lot.

Thursday, July 30, 2009 12:01 PM – From Ramu Anna again

Vanima,

Thanks for pictures. Though it is sad to see, it is very consoling by accepting the fact about the successful journey completion of our avva.

We need to understand the fact she has fulfilled her dreams and wishes in a nice way and here we are to continue ours in the same manner.

I don’t why every time I think or write about her, tears are just coming. I never thought myself, I would be grieving so much for her death.

Avva is simple, courageous, hardworking and No selfishness.

Thanks a lot for those pictures

Ramu

Thursday, July 30, 2009 7:55 PM – From Amutha

Hai all,

When I heared avva being sick and it's about time. I didn't quite know how to react... I was wondering , is it because I am here... But when I read ramanna's my tears started rolling without my knowledge.

All I was hoping was that she would b there to see Arya but she had her own plans.

I am sure that all of us will have our own memories of her.

Thanks to Vani for keeping us updated good or bad

-Amutha 

And my reply to Amutha just read…

What are cousins for...

Cradle of Mirth...

“When the first baby laughed for the first time, the laugh broke into a thousand pieces and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies” - James Matthew Barrie

A little smile and a wet smooch from him would kindle a sense of mirth to even the saddest souls. Yes.. That’s what my one and half year old nephew is. He had come over from the US for a short vacation and I got to spend only fewer days with him. But those days will remain etched in my memory forever.

In the photos that my S-I-L shared over the years, we always saw a plump kuttu (the little one) with a lot of hair. Once they landed in the airport, we got really confused to see her carrying a leaner kuttu with a mushroom haircut and with really cool goggles. Initially I did not know what kind of emotion was flooding inside me when I saw my only brother’s kid. Then I realized it is because I’m seeing a part of my brother in him. Kuttu resembles my brother so much… which my S-I-L is not very happy aboutJ. All my elder relatives say my brother used to look just the same as kuttu looks now. I can imagine how my brother was when he was little. Kuttu is adorably playful but it seems by brother was a brat J

The initial days when he kept clinging to his mom was as adorable as when he got comfortable with our home and started walking around. The way he walks is like a little butterfly fluttering with its tiny wings. He bends his hands and raises it to shoulder level to balance himself. Can u imagine it? Wish you could have got the chance to see him walk/ run around the house. Kuttu just loves my mom… his granny. One call from her and he would drop even his favorite toy and go searching for her. And the way he heeds to his granny’s way of feeding him and bathing him is a sight that you can watch the whole day. Cutie pie. Mom calls him poonakutti (kitten). It’s because she like the ways his little pink tongue keeps coming out when he had his food just like a kitten. My happiest moment was when someone asked him where “athai” (paternal aunt) is and he immediately turned around, looked at me and gave his most beautiful acknowledgement smile.

I love the swing and so does my kuttu. Know what, my nephew is the next Sivamani in the making. He loves the drums and he tries his hands on all/any object he could reach and starts beating it like a drummer. And he likes to see the wheels go round-&-round in any vehicle that passes. I think that’s why he was so fascinated with the exhaust fan in our kitchen. He would walk into the kitchen and ask his granny to switch on the fan in his own baby language. The minute we switch it off, a sharp sound come from him. We used to switch it off again & again to hear him talk gibberish.

Kuttu just loves the SUN TV music. He does not take his eyes off the TV when they SUN TV logo music comes on. He even learnt to reach up to the TV and knock the TV screen when it comes. Also he likes to be photographed. The problem is instead of smiling from where he is… he would move his head forward and keep it close to the camera and wait for us to click him. Funny kiddo.

There are few things that kuttu does not like. He does not like to have his hair washed. That is he does not like it when the water flows over his face from his head. He hated sharp horn noises. Somehow he never wanted to drink water. So we started to include a lot of water into his main course food. He is kind of a cleanliness freak. His mom had mehendi applied on her hands and he dint want to touch it. It’s the same with food. He would ask anyone of us to feed him but never wanted to pick the food and eat it himself. He was ok with eating biscuits himself since they do not stick to your hand.

There is so much more to tell about him. I spent only few days and could not stop thinking about him. I’m jealous of my bother and S-I-L who get to spend every day with him and admire his every move. Whether or not it is my brother’s kid… a baby is always adorable and even a small movement of its little fingers could bring us immense joy. “A baby will make love stronger, days shorter, nights longer, bankroll smaller, home happier, clothes shabbier, the past forgotten, and the future worth living for”. I wish I too would get a chance to give the world a cradle of mirth of my own.

Reciprocate…

Recently I had a row with him about the fact that I never reciprocate his feelings for me. His complaint was that I do not even approve the love he bestows about me. I have always thought myself to be a very considerate, empathetic and sympathetic person. When I sit back and ponder, I wonder it was all just a mirage.

Before I realized this, I always felt angry towards my kith and kin that no one understood me and that no one had time to empathize for others. It’s the same with everyone. In our busy and selfish world, we all feel that others do not value our opinion and nothing happens when we do not respond. All wrong!!!

I have come to accept that all of need approval and recognition. At least, I do. I do not like to write much in this blog since I do not get any comments except from Jesh. You may say it is because the posts are not very interesting. Then comment is so. Tell me it is not very interesting and hint me on how to improvise it.

I get upset when people do not reply to my mails. I’m a person who emails only very few and only if they are close to my heart. And when I do not get a reply… I feel inferior. I feel that the person who I feel is important to me does not feel the same about me. I keep opening my email inbox umpteen times with the hopes that I would have got a reply.

Yesterday was my brother’s birthday. I sent him an e-card wishing him. I also spoke to him over phone and wished him. There is no need for him to reply to that e-card. But since morning I’ve checked my inbox around 20 times. This act of mine is even more ridiculous since he lives in the US and there is almost no chance for him to wake up in the middle of the night and send a thank you e-card to me. Ha ha ha !!

Or even trivial is my expectation that people should recognize when I wear a new dress, hardly visible ear studs, etc. My list of seeking others opinion is endless and so are my disappointments :D

If reciprocating for an email matters so much to me, I wonder much of approval is required in our daily lives. Yes! I have read that we should not be influenced by what others think of us or what others feel about us. But I am very much influenced by what people say or do not say of me. Be it a good comment, I would gladly hug them and say, “You made my day”. Be it a negative one, I would frown a little and say, “I would give you another chance to be impressed” and would try to improve myself.

Then again, there is a big problem to handle. If I try to impress one person, they would expect me to keep up the standard. This part is difficult… I need to think deep about this and learn to accept that it is not always necessary to impress others and others opinion is not always important.

Miss u my friend…

They (?) say absence makes the heart grow fonder
No, I do not want to grow fonder of you…I would rather have you near me fighting…

Again, I hear it's better to forget than remember you and cry
I would rather cry every waking moment and in my dreams… rather than forget you…

You told me once… For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.

I do not know if I would gain any thing if I lose you… but I would rather gain you by losing even myself.

I read someone quoting “Without you my life is like a broken pencil”
How true…. My life too has NO POINT without you….

My tears for you flowed along with the rain drops that washed my face… will miss and love you until we could find that lost tear.

To Sansu & Jesh…. Missing you both a lot (I know u guys hate each other for no fault of either of yours… but thanks for loving me).

I like these…. ‘Coz I like YOU….

There are certain things in this world that I really have accepted to like even without realising why. Just yesterday I was wondering why did I like those things just like that… and did find the answer… I like those… coz I like someone who liked those… Simple.. isn’t it?

Would like to list a few…

Anna (elder brother): Since I love, admire and respect you more than anyone, I would accept anything you even seem to give a thought to. But few things that I really like because you do Lemon Pickles, Che Guevara, Periyar, Eggs, Paratta, etc etc

Sasi (Friend from college days): Though we are not in touch much… I still cherish our friendship. You taught me what it is to really be a ‘friend’. Just to be friends… you sometimes turns out to be my foe. I simply adore Harry Potter and it is because you introduced me to him.

Sansu (Sanusha- from my previous job place): What are you to me de? Friend or a sister -as all used to ask us… no its not because both of us wear glasses :D. Your are the best de. Do you know what all silly things I like coz I like you… GJ (for Gulab Jaamoon – Thats how u & limi call it), books, Calvin & Hobbes, PJs, hunting quotes for GTalk, being in love, trying to dress presentable, Raajma curry, Fish fry (even more after I knew u loved them), etc etc … the list can go on.

Jeshu - Rajesh – :): What more have I got to learn to like from you dear? I tried Baasandhi for first time since that is your favorite sweet, I started reading Charu ‘coz u like his work, visited Puttaparthi since you spoke of Sai always, started watching world movies and classics after you showed me to appreciate them, and few more da. I can’t recall them now :)

Anand (cousin): You are more a friend than a cousin ananda… Im trying to turn a vegetarian now… but still I started liking dried fish curry coz of u..

Motte (Rajan): You stayed with me lending a shoulder every time i cried…. never once were you the reason for my tears. Thanks da. I like Grilled Chicken and prawn fried rice more since the past 5 yrs… coz of you :). Ok… you started liking grilled chicken coz of me… its a tie-up.. forget it. Then again.. it just because of you that I open my eyes to appreciate art… modern or traditional. More like this…

Actually speaking… I have or rather had a BIG list of people who I adore and things that I like because of them. But am not able to put those into words and put it here. Its OK though. I know there are few things that all of us like just because the person we love likes them. Isn’t it?

Love all… Like all….

Masakali... Masakali...

Until today, the About Me part in my Facebook… Orkut… Blogspot… always read “I am what I am”…. Now I’ve found a new word to describe myself… Masakali (THE song from Delhi-6 movie).

It so symbolizes me… free bird. At least that’s what I try & wanna be.

• Free to think…
• Free to travel anywhere my heart yearns to…
• Free to live with someone I love…
  
• Free to read the books I feel to…
• Free to cook & relish what I like without bothering about health or diet…
• Free to wear clothes suiting my mood rather than follow some corporate culture…
• Free to be an atheist or theist… as it suits me at the moment…
• Free to break traditions… rather than following the code “do not be the first to break traditions”…
• Free to do the job I like to… like running a restaurant or juice bar or a library…
• Free to express my feelings, emotions…
• Free to have my own sweet little circle of friends… without any inhibitions…
• Free to watch even the stupidest movie on earth without people judging me on that…
• Free to own the out-of-date mobile phone model… and not having people stare at it…
• Free to listen to devotional songs without actually understanding what the lyrics mean…
• Free to trek up to a hill top, sit by myself on a dangerous cliff and wonder what nature is NOT…
• Free to sit under a slanting glass roofed room and watch the rain water slide & then drop to the ground like tear drops…
• Free to capture random moments on the digi cam…
• Free to catch up with people I love… whenever I feel to…
• Free to destroy men who exploit women and vice versa…..
• Free to feel fear and courage....
• Free to voice my difference of opinion of works of well acclaimed authors, celebrities, friends and foes…

The list goes on & on… In short, FREE is what I want to be.