Thou art So Beautiful

Best movie (Zindagi Na Milegi Dorbara)

Most of the time, a ‘movie of the year’ is just that- the best movie you have watched in the past year. But there are times when the best movie of the year can actually have such a profound affect on you that it actually made your life better. This Bollywood movie did exactly that for me. ZNMD was so good that even after watching a ripped copy of it online just a week after it’s release, I made two more trips to the cinemas, dragging different friends along- to watch the movie. And just like I did, the friends that I brought for the movies fell in love equally as much with the flick.

ZNMD (You won’t get life for a second time- literal translation) is the story of three friends on a bachelor trip to Spain in order to celebrate one of their member’s marriage. I know the one-liner sounds like ‘The Hangover’, but if anything, ZNMD spits on Hangover big time. This is not a movie about crass jokes, getting drunk, or weird tigers in bathrooms. This was a meaningful movie.  It was so meaningful that I teared for the first time while watching a happy scene. The final montage showing the three friends running topless while looking at each other in pure bewilderment and excitement as they get chased by a host of deadly bulls was quite simply full of life. Yes, this movie is not about entertainment, joy, sadness- it’s simply about life. It’s about how we should learn to let go and just live life on its raw edge. The world is out there for us to explore. What are we waiting for?

Like a friend of mine put it so beautifully after watching it- ‘A movie like ZNMD is worth going for again and again because it simply reminds you of what’s important in life.’

Extract:

Laila lures Arjun into lying down under stars at a park at night.

Arjun: Why are we doing this?

Laila: Don’t tell me you never did this. Lying down under the stars, watching the sky.

Arjun: (After watching the sky, a realization strikes him). Ah, one should learn how to live from you. I feel as if I’ve spent my entire life in a box. (He’s a successful corporate man with a penthouse in London)

Laila: Arjun (holding his hands), the only time when a man should be in a box, is when he is dead.

Zindagi was also the first movie I watched along with my cousins just days after one of them returned from Ukraine after two years. We spent the hours after reflecting on how each of us could relate to the characters in the film. I am pretty much like Kabir- the one who loves uniting, loves seeing other people happy, a friend you can rely on (not to brag), and someone unwilling to break people’s heart. It reinforced my confidence in myself at a time when I was going through a crisis of faith in life. It reminded me of when I’m the happiest in life. Zindagi played a crucial role in my life. And if you have not watched it, then all I could say is you are missing something so immeasurably good. This is movie was not only worth the admission fee, but also my entire month’s salary. Thank you Zoya Akhtar (director), Reema Kagti (writer), Farhan Akhtar (wonderful dialogues and a brilliant performance), and Javed Akhtar (serene poems).

A poem from the film:

If your heart beats with anxiety every minute, then you are alive.

If you are carrying in your eyes, the glint of greatest dreams, then you are alive.

Learn,

To be free like the gusty winds that blows your hair.

Learn,

To flow freely like the streaming river.

Greet every single minute of your life,

With a warm hug.

Never, close your arms.

Find something new to amaze your eyes,

With every passing second,

If you are carrying in your eyes- a bit wonder, amazement, and curiousity- you are alive.

If you can feel every single heartbeat of yours,

then you are alive.

Best act of friendship (Euphraim Yuvaraj)

The old adage says, the best of friends are the ones who stay by you even through your shittiest times. This friend of mine is not the holiest one around, nor one to express his feelings all that much, but as a friend- it’s difficult to find a comparison. I probably witnessed the most gratifying single act of friendship which will last a lifetime this year. I was at my lowest ebb and I found this man’s acts telling me that life is still good. Ever felt crazy enough (or disillusioned enough) to decide to drive 400 kilometers after working hours, without holidays? It’s crazy enough for me to conceive that idea, but this man offered himself as a company though he held no benefit of doing so. He drove when I was sleepy, did  not complaint, listened to my rumblings, did not lose his temper even when the car broke down at the middle of a highway at 4am in the morning, stood by the road waved away vehicles, slept at the chair of a mechanic shop- he went through shit for literally nothing. And I will remember that for a lifetime.

The new me

The ‘new me’ phenomena is a commonly used term- to indicate that you have changed as a person just because the old you didn’t quite work out. In my case, it’s not about changing skins, but rather about simply growing as a human being. I am now 23 years old, and this year, I finally shed off the principles that I had held so dear in my life for so many years. I abstained from dos and donts, from rules, from regulations- I simply let myself fly free. And I have no regrets. I’m better this way- in harmony with life, living in the present- I have stopped that ridiculous ritual of sacrificing today’s passion for tomorrow’s comfort. Comfort is an ambivalent thing. What guarantee do we have that our plans will take formation? There’s no point collecting seeds and saving it in the bank vault for ‘one better day’. Because life will never offer you that ‘one perfect day’. The onus is on you to make it perfect- right now. Plant every seed today, because unplanted seeds serve no-one any good. I have become more carefree, more talkative, more adventurous. I scaled an unchartered mountain this year without any hiking materials, drove around an unknown city looking for a hospital seeking treatment for my ownself, was mired in the middle of a professional controversy, and pushed all known boundaries known to my ownself. I bought a pink t-shirt, wore green shoes, was called bizzare, grew a long hair, bought a skinny jeans- all statement of self. Finally, I am expressing myself from my looks to my talks. I know who I am. As far as my being is concerned, I have already reached my destination. I don’t need to wait until I am ‘successful’.

Quite simply- I lived life on its raw edge. The result?- I don’t feel inferior to anyone anymore- not to people with better academic results, better CVs, bigger car, or bigger house. Because when it comes to having the best friends, an imperfectly perfect family, a loving heart, understanding life, and above all while writing, I don’t think I am second to anybody at all. People respect me, and for those who don’t, I showed them that I don’t take disrespect as an option anymore. I have lived a productive life, walked the path many were afraid to walk on, carved my own path- and nobody will take that away from me.

The family

Family felt like family again this year. It was all about putting things into perspective. The cousins are back, one amongst each other, we know we are only a phone call away. We went around without any plans, randomly stacking up one plan after another. I learnt a bit of swimming this year thanks to my cousins, and finally let go of all the barriers to treat all of them as the same. Elders may have their own hullabaloo of pride going on- but lest assured we brothers and sisters know and respect each other’s value. I didn’t bother meeting friends when I’m back at my hometown, I decided it’s more worthwhile to spend my hours at home when I’m back at Sitiawan, instead of going out. Rest assured, there are also familial relationships and friendships that strained that extra bit this year- but I’m glad I don’t feel the sting anymore. For those who choose to distance themselves from me- are only losing their rights to feel proud of me. For I always make sure I do my part- and all the same, I am hell bent in making sure my family and loved ones feel proud of me.

Ram Anand is a personification of the faith and love invested in him. It’s not about believing in him because he can ‘do it’, but rather believing in him will spur him on to ‘do it’.

Above all, there’s that lingering hope and prayer that I made your lives that little bit more colorful or meaningful this year. Because I live and write for such purposes.

HERE, in Malaysia, we are used to having stereotypes dished out based on races. Anyone brought up here might alredy be familiar to such stereotypes- such as ‘Malays are lazy’ and ‘Chinese are stingy- kiasu to be exact’. Not that I subscribe to such stereotypes. One day, over a coffee table conversation, a friend of mine was branding each race with a tag, but seemed stuck when trying to describe the Indian community. “Pride,” I answered nonchalantly.

You see, pride isn’t actually a bad thing- since the previous stereotypes had negative connotations for the other races. But in the case of Indians, ‘pride’ is actually a very, very endemic and epidemic problem. It is the core of all evil as far as an Indian is concerned.

This includes various levels of self-appeasing pride- such as pride of mother tongue which turns into a separatist obsession, pride of class and status which turns one into an discriminating person, and the pride of being the archetypal Indian man that naturally leads to unrivalled, stupid, chaotic chauvisnism.

Not to forget the pride of self that leads to god-knows-how-many political parties, families not seeing eye to eye over one ‘THAT’ word which was uttered during a conversation, and of course the cultural knowledge pride that makes almost every other traditional marriage a complete mess thanks too many individuals who say ‘I know the tradition’.

My list can go on- to put it simple- this pride has resulted in racist individuals, had destroyed love stories, lives even at some stage, and above all had given absolute license to be ignorant- a disease which I personally think is worse than cancer.

For an example, let’s take 7aam Arivu.

Make no mistake, I’m not criticizing the quality of the movie, though on a personal note, I have not even watched the movie in full. But 7aam Arivu is an excellent example of the ‘Indian pride’.

Every other individual who had watched the movie and later loved it normally boasted about the fact that Bodhidharma is a ‘Tamilian’.

Exactly, totally, besides the point. The movie takes pains to point out to the audience in a laborious fashion for two odd hours- that we have forgotten our history and do not realize our own inheritance. But instead of letting that realization sting them- all I see on social networks are endless boasting about how the Chinese inherited an art founded and preached by an Indian. Big deal. Are Indians practicing Shaolin today? No matter how much we boast about it, the Chinese are still better at it than we are- just because we conveniently returned to our ignorant, proud selves after watching the movie.

If that’s not enough, 7aam Arivu itself misses a very quintessential question- why did Bodhidharma choose to teach Shaolin in a Chinese village and not in India? Could it not be that Indians back then were unappreciative of what he was teaching and he found the Chinese to be more open to receive his knowledge? Did anyone bother asking this question?

As far as I’m concerned, whether you are born as an Indian or Chinese is irrelevant. How would you feel if the mother of a kid you adopted comes back 25 years later and claims the child for her own? Not very pleasant, isn’t it?

The same applies here. Indians do not have the right to claim Damo as their own especially because he had flourished with his teachings in China, and not in India. Why are we claiming him as our own now, so many decades later, that too thanks to one averagely-made movie?

But all we do after watching the movie is to feel ‘proud’, when we should feel ashamed of ourselves not to have appreciated our own history before.

If that’s not bad enough, the film’s director AR Murugadoss also committed a cardinal sin by choosing a rather eloquent villain for his movie- the Chinese government itself. Why we allow such movies that can spoil diplomatic relations is beyond me? Why brand the Chinese as villains? Why that typical ignorant approach, assuming that if someone else apart from ‘us’ possesses our art, they would ‘misuse’ it against us or to conquer the world?

Because we are holier-than-thou?

Another recent example is Canadian MP Radhika Sitsabesan. Of course, it’s a matter of great pride to have a Tamilian helm a Parliamentary seat in Canada, that too someone as young as 29 years old. And rightfully we took pride in that matter. But we also took pride in the fact that she spoke Tamil in the Canadian Parliament while introducing herself. Now that’s where we have again prodded into ignorant, overtly-proud territories.

Canada has two official languages- English and French. It is only professional and fair if she had communicated in those two languages alone during her speech, instead of speaking Tamil, a language that a large majority of those in the Parliament could not understand.

It is insulting and disrespectful of the Parliament and the Speaker to have done something to that effect. I’m pretty sure that Canada, due to its multi-ethnic fabric, had other MPs from non-Canadian backgrounds. But we don’t see people speaking Chinese and Latin in the Canadian Parliament don’t they?

Again- a blinding sense of pride that eventually leads to us going in rounds and ending up nowhere, mainly due to our ignorance. It’s okay to be proud, but it’s also recommended to spend a minute to think before choosing to feel proud.

“Tu, belakang sana, tapi sekarang dah tutup (It’s behind there, but now it’s closed),” the boy said as, pointing his fingers at an old, dilapidated football field and community hall that seemed no more in use. The gate was rusty and was overgrown by leaves. It was like entering a memory lane.

We rolled up our pants a little, and labourisly armed by a camera, walked past the bushes towards the hall. And I starred at what the boy was pointing out all along. The hall was perched at the foot of a massive mountain. My sense of curiosity heightened, as much as my sense of discovering a story left untold. It is the kind of feeling you get when you know you are about to time travel. No, most of you wouldn’t know what feeling I’m describing here, because understandably you don’t get to be on the brink of time travelling all that often.

A cave mountain, it stood tall and all alone with no neighbors around it. The scorching heat was obliterating my sight. It must have the diameter of half a kilometers, at least. And within this area, we were told, we can find a stairs. Yes, a stairs.

We literally scrawled through bushes which were just as tall as I was, taking giant leaps, and negotiating the uncomfortable feeling you get when tips of lalang tend to unceremoniously enter your mouth- all the while looking for a semblance of the stairs.

“Here,” one of my travel partners said, exhaustingly starring at what looked more like an entrance to a jungle.

Slowly, he parted the bushes, and there appeared to be a shabby stone carving stacked atop each other.

“There!” another voice proclaimed. This was not your typical stairs. In fact, it hardly looked like stairs. They were not measured in equal length. And they did not incline in a particular direction. They were all over the place. It will suddenly take a drastic right turn, and suddenly a left one. We left on our all fours at occasions, having to shove the tripods through branches like a baton to those who have reached equal ground.

This was as unkempt as any stairs got. Bushes was all over the place. “Wouldn’t there be like, snakes and all?” one of us nonchalantly asked. We were already halfway through to the peak at that point.

“Of course, there will be. Maybe not so early though.”

Most of us stopped in our tracks. I could sense a bristle of fear illuminating the air around us. Then, a sheepish smile at each other- we have come too far to go back now- so we continued.

We were scaling a mountain that has been left unexplored for maybe five or six decades. At every nook we saw new evidences that this mountain used to be the lair for some religious activities. But no matter how busy and unkempt it was, full of raw earth and prickly insects, there have been forefathers and ancestors who have left behind tracks to guide us. Probably they knew these tracks will come in handy some day.

After half an hour of scaling, we reached an eerie cave, which illuminated no light whatsoever. On the facades of the cave, another mark of a story undiscovered. The name of two lovers etched in red to the wall. My imagination flickered. Whether they were as adventurous as we were, or had decided to make this their last sanctuary, we’d never know. The nature held within itself a plethora of stories, and I wanted to know all of it. I stood up on that unequal plain and looked forth- as the entire Titiwangsa mountain range stood majestically before my eyes, not forgetting that I was standing near the peak of one of the mountains that belongs in that range.

We did not find anything in the cave except for a small light that managed to sneak through the closed peak and illuminated a small place. But there were remnants of railings inside the cave- a clear sign of human activity in the past. It was like seeing Batu Caves some 200 years after it has been destroyed and left to ruins.

There was a small opening in the middle, an opening that seemed to lead to a whole different place. The sound of water running, and the hollow sound of chilled air travelling through it made it even more mysterious. It was inviting and warning at the same time. “Do we have ropes?”

We looked at each other. No we didn’t. There were no ropes, no torchlight, no kits whatsoever. All we had was a tripod and a camera- a very small one at that.

“Better not, we will come back again sometime. With equipments.”

After tip-toeing past a couple of unguarded houses where the dogs were allowed to openly roam to man a vast dry land at the foot of the mountains, we returned back home- having come ever so close yet so far.

We never returned, at least I never did. Months later, when mulling the idea, I was told that the village head where the mountain is located doesn’t want the mountain to be explored anymore. There were political sensitivities. So myth remains- that a historic Hindu cave temple that preceded Batu Caves was located in this very mountain. I knew the mountain had stories to tell. But we were not allowed to listen.

As I recall these memories again, I’m reminded again how this has been the core of all our problems in this country. A staunch refusal to discover; an alarming fear of change and the new. And we have the audacity to ask why art has stalled like time-rusted locomotive, still on its tracks. No matter how much money is pumped into it, a locomotive doesn’t run without fire to burn. And stories that lay hidden on that mountain are our burning fire.

Malaysia has forgotten its history, in fact it wishes not to discover. And with such an ignorant attitude towards history, literature is forgotten, left on the pavement. Literature is that homeless guy who walks around at the foot of the tallest buildings and biggest shopping malls here.

Tomorrow, KLCC will be gone. So will Pavillion, and everything else. Stories will live on- passed on generations. Stories that resemble the lives of a generation. But the problem is we are not writing down stories today. Without them, what story will we have in our hands tomorrow? What tales will we sing to the distant future, without all this economy and buildings?

By failing to tell its stories- we are committing our greatest betrayal to this land, which homed us.

Our apocalypse is not then, but now.

(Note: The mountain in this story has not been named for certain reasons and will remain so. For those who know its name, please do not name it in public domain.)

I WAS born on November 8, 1988. Yes, in two days’ time I will be celebrating my 23rd birthday. Maybe celebrating isn’t the right word to use. I am approaching this birthday in a way quite different to all my previous ones. With a profound sense of gratification- the kind of maturity that life infuses in you as you get more experienced. Yes, it’s not about getting older, it’s rather about getting more experienced.

My view of life has been rather monotonous, albeit with constant drama. Being a passenger has never been my cup of tea. Like a spiritual guru once said, life is like a caravan. But a caravan has so many seats. You can sit comfortably at the back and enjoy the ride. Or you can side at the first passenger’s side. The question is- are you aware of your seating? I knew I wanted to be the driver. It hasn’t been easy driving my own caravan for 23 years. There were terrains, roads, and mountains. And there were times the caravan was plunging blindly into a dark alley.

But if life had ten mountains, I probably have just finished crossing the first. I’m nowehere near done, or nowhere near my destination. But the first one was always going to be the most difficult one. If life’s ride is defined by a rainbow, then I have seen all the colours, tasted each one of them. So I do have a faint idea how to climb the next mountain- and I will be climbing it without any confirmed expectations as to what I will see at the peak. Life has an ironic way of rewarding us. It’s always good to admit that we don’t know. Because we can be pleasantly surprised.

Those who knew me well enough, probably would have expected me to come out with few more articles before the launch. Yes, I have plenty to say still, but now that I have a craft on my hands, I think I’m going to let my firstborn do the talking instead.

I’m writing this today because this will be a crucial week. Tomorrow is the birthday of someone very special. No, it’s not the ‘special’ that you thought about. There is this man, his name is Kamal Haasan. Yes, it is ironic that I was born just a day after he had done. Probably it is my way of viewing every single thing in life as a miracle.

To say that he is an inspiration is an understatement. He started this whole dream inside me. This dream to tell stories to the whole world, to do something new with every move, even if that meant failure. I, just like Kamal did when he was 21, thought of slitting my wrists because no-one in this world would understand or relate with our ideas. But then again, also like he did, I found some fellow craftsmen who reinforced the fire and passion inside me. Even when it was pitch dark, I kept going. Because the lamp that I lit doesn’t lie on the side of the road, but rather within me. It’s something no-one can take away from me.

Kamal once told a bunch of students that he doesn’t view Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi as an inspiration or a guru, but rather as a peer. Kamal Haasan, similarly, is my peer. Because I know we share similar ideas, similar passion.

Yes, the latter was a man who features prominently in the history of this world. But like Kamal said, that doesn’t mean we need to be in a lower dais. I, too, like this dais. This arrangement. There is a spectrum called cinema, and Kamal is trying to make this world a better place within his small enclosure of cinema. Yes, I’ve only written a book, but within my 200 pages of literature, I too, am trying to make this world a better place to live in.

My birthday is nothing but a summary of all my surroundings, all that I have absorbed over the years. The hard and good times I have went through. All the stories I have heard and listened. I am but a sum figure of all these stories built around me.

And then we have the book launch on November 12. As I said, let the firstborn do the talking.

I will not be writing any articles for the next six days till after the launch. I guess its time for some serenity. But in the meantime, if you have an ear for music, and do not have an existing bias with Bollywood, you can click on the link below (subtitles provided):

Some seven years ago as well, this song made be believe that sometimes great minds think alike. The lyrics resonated similarly to the first poem I ever wrote when I was 16.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zKgm_wPh1HU&feature=related

Oh, my dear travellers, keep travelling.

And remember, we are not here to make ourselves shine brighter than others. We are here make each other shine as brightly as the next.

I have one good friend. He is gay. No, he is not a friend that I ever attempted to avoid. In fact, I go to him whenever I need guidance and advise about the choices I make in life. If anything, he’s the busier one among the two of us. I set up appointments to make sure I keep in touch with him. He doesn’t gossip. He doesn’t fling his fingers around and bitch about his colleagues or friends to me. He doesn’t have an obsession with muscles. He is not effeminate, nor is he masculine. He is successful, very successful, I would say. He’s a Hindu, but he has studied Islam. He has been a Christian missionary. He doesn’t have anything against religion. He never deviated from the path of God. If anything, he has more spirituality than I do. But people think I’m normal, whilst he is not.

Why, Malaysia?

I know of this one organization- an organization where hundreds of people call in everyday seeking for help. No, they are not seeking pardon from Lord for who they are. But they call in to have their voices heard, beneath the cloak they wear everyday when they walk to be part of the society. They are on the brink of destruction. They feel like jumping off buildings. Some lost their jobs because of who they are. Some lose friends, family. Most are stripped off their dignity. They want to slit their wrists. So they call in, hanging on to one last final thread. All they want to hear is one thing- that there are others like them out there. They are not alone. But this organization does not operate openly. They do it quietly, like an unwanted stash hidden somewhere under the surface of a society. When we sleep, there are plenty of tears here, stories of unrivalled misery and difficulty.

Isn’t it supposed to be very easy? Like they say, it’s a disease, a disorder of sorts that stems of deviating from a right path. Maybe when they lose jobs and are shunned to a corner, they could just wipe their tears and seek remorse? Go back to being ‘normal’? But still they don’t see a life for themselves in such situations. They see it as the end.

Why, Malaysia?

I do not know the answers to what’s right or what’s wrong. I’m not pretending like I do. If these acts are indeed wrong, why aren’t we letting God decide? Why are we trying to do God’s job? Is it okay to hurt and shun another person who did no harm to you, or to any other person for that matter, just because you ‘think’ it’s wrong?

I look up at them. Yes, I do. Probably some might even think there’s nothing we can learn from them. Probably there is. Because we take so many things for granted in life. We coast through life without as much as swimming or in some cases, not even bothering to know what a struggle actually means. The society has its uniforms, and we wear it everyday, making rounds and repeating our daily routines. And when we fall into a pit, like most of us do at some point of time, we whine and grapple to find a holder that can hoist us back up. We have the luxury of choosing our struggles. They probably don’t.

Can you imagine being stopped from loving someone? To love someone but unable to hold their hands? Or even loving someone with the knowledge that you can’t plan a future with him or her?

Or maybe if you think they are wrong to be who they are, why not live your life well and dignified to demonstrate that your path pays dividends? Why make a noise when others are not in tandem with you?

Probably because we are scared. We are afraid of that little of change, that little bit of acceptance. We are afraid because we might look in the mirror and feel our struggle is nothing compared to theirs. That our lives resemble cowardice compared to theirs. So we make them as our struggle.

But in this process, are we learning? If you are normal, you might not need to accept them, but the least you can do is to always open to your mind to what you can learn from your surroundings. Isn’t that the whole purpose of life itself, to learn and evolve with time?

No, not all gays couples comprise of effeminate and ultra masculine combinations. Not all transsexuals bitch and whine. Not all of them come from a poor upbringing. Then again, are we forgetting that even among us normal people, there are negative and positive characters?

Why, your thief, your carjacker, your acid splasher; are they not ‘normal’ people? Do we use some select characteristics to paint the same picture on an entire group of people? If that’s the case; all of us are robbers, murderers, and molesters, no?

What picture comes to your head when we talk about homosexuals? Is it that of a man kissing another man, or a woman kissing another woman?

That’s called sex. The word gender has a different meaning. If you think of sex while talking about gender, are we a generation who have completely thrown the crucial element called ‘love’ out of the window?

We marry and divorce as easy as the passing clouds. But they fight hard to keep even a single relationship going. To be accepted by friends and family. Why are we on our high horses? Do we know, or feel, what they went through or are going through?

Even if that is a disease, do you look down upon a person who has cancer?

Why, oh why Malaysia, are you so ignorant?

The following is strictly my take based on the Tamil films I have watched over the last decade (2000-2010, 2011 not included). First and foremost, many Tamil cinema connoisseurs will argue to have some of Bala’s films to be included in the list. The glaring absence in my list is Bala’s films, as I still consider he makes his films a tragedy for the sake of it, without any proper justification behind it (the recent Avan Ivan ending reaffirmed this belief). Though I have appreciated his work, they are nowhere near good enough to feature in this list.

Similarly, Shankar, the box office kingmaker, does not feature in this list. He still lacks originality, and his executions are nothing but that of a commercial filmmaker who makes his films with greater budget and flair. The screenplay of his films still represents the archetypical Tamil film hero-villain-heroine graph.

10. Evano Oruvan (That common man) (2009)

Direction: Nishikant Kamath

Cast: R. Madhavan, Sangeetha, Seeman.

Easily one of the forgotten films of the decade, Evano Oruvan was Madhavan’s maiden production venture, and a remake of award-winning Marathi film ‘Dombvilli Fast’. It created nothing but a small ripple in the box office when it released, but it is fair to say that has been the case with most of the greatest Tamil films that has been made.

The film told the story of a middle-class husband and father whose frustration with the whole corrupt system pushes him over the edge, leading to him murdering those whom he despised. The film’s specialty is that it tells a story of a man who does not plan nor organize his crimes, but instead simply kills out of frustration and later roams like a headless chicken, lost. Despite that, the police force goes berserk trying to track him down, exposing the glaring dysfunctional system that is in place.

The film features an unforgettable monologue by Madhavan delivered at the middle of a pavement while talking to a disabled painter, in which he talks about dreams, frustrations, and yet eloquently rants about how the need for security compromises one’s dreams. The film’s protagonist is a character that best epitomized the frustrations that exists in our society today.

Madhavan delivers a performance of a lifetime, which in my opinion surpassed his portrayal of Inbasekaran in Mani Ratnam’s Aayitha Ezhuttu. Seeman also delivers a talismanic performance as the police officer that tails the protagonist.

9. Raavanan (The Devil) (2010)

Director: Mani Ratnam

Cast: Vikram, Aishwarya Rai, Prithviraj, Prabhu.

This is a movie that divided opinions when it released last year. But if we were to forward a decade or two, I am pretty sure this movie will be a celebrated epic, just like the impact Mani’s Iruvar has left more than a decade after its release.

Raavanan, which told the story about a tribal leader who abducts the pretty, strong-willed wife of a self-obsessed policeman, was a visual poetry in motion. The camera captured the tiniest details, and even though the story was wafer-thin, the manner with which the story was told was second to none.

The acting was top notch, from Vikram to Prabhu to Prithviraj, everyone delivered a talismanic performance in the two-hour movie. The music by AR Rahman was a landmark, including a aesthetically captured ‘Usure Pogudhey’, which for me was the best music video of the decade.

Cinematography is this film remains one of the best you’ll ever see in an Indian movie, with the ‘Naan Varuvene’ track at the end of the movie sure to haunt you. Apart from all this, the film brilliantly used the backdrop of a religious epic to explore the grey shades of humans.

The film might not have found its takers financially, but intellectually it will linger on in our memories for a long time.

8. Pudhupettai (The new area) (2006)

Director: Selva Raghavan

Cast: Dhanush, Sonia Agarwal, Sneha.

Another movie that did not exactly set the box office on fire when it was released. The dominating argument against this movie was a ridiculous one, that the lead actor Dhanush was nowhere near ‘muscular’ enough to don the lead role of a mafia leader.

Pudhupettai was an epic on so many levels, it told the story of a thin slum schoolboy who runs away from home after realizing that his father murdered his mother. Becoming a beggar without choice, he later gets accidentally acquainted with a drug smuggling underground mafia, and from then on makes a meteoric rise to become a gang leader.

The core theme of the movie is about how a physical misfit can still make it in the ruthless mafia world. Sneha boldly plays the role of a prostitute, while the overall mood and music of the film is spot-on for a movie that explored the darker shades of our society.

The ending was worth weighing in gold, as was Selva’s handling of the script. Easily one of Selva Raghavan’s best works so far, Pudhupettai remains the best modern ‘Godfather’ I have seen in Indian cinema.

7. Paruthi Veeran (The Village Warrior) (2006)

Director: Ameer Sultan

Cast: Karthi, Priya Mani.

Writing about this movie reminds me what a shame it has been that Ameer left direction after directing this National Award winning movie. He has not been seen for a good five years now, though his next directorial venture is set to release.

The film tells the story of an anti-hero, a small village thief in Madurai, who works hand in hand with his equally corrupt uncle. Like a tragedy of Shakespearean proportion set in the dry lands of Madurai, this three-hour film narrates the downfall of this man as he falls hopelessly in love with his first cousin.

Karthi, despite being a debutant, delivers a lifetime performance accompanied by an matching performance by Priyamani, who went on to win a National Award for her performance.

This is one of the rawest film of the decade, with gruesome village violence showing the audiences the darker side of village life compared to the typical culture, tradition, and comfort that is shown in most Tamil films.

This film will leave a lump on your throat, which is a very rare achievement coming from a Tamil movie. The ending, in spite of its violence easily portrays of the best poetic justice dished out in recent memory. Classic.

6. Vaaranam Aayiram (Strength of a Thousand Elephants) (2008)

Director: Gautham Menon

Cast: Surya, Sameera Reddy, Simran, and Divya Spandana.

Tamil cinema has an obsession with dual roles. Almost all of the leading actors have, at some juncture of their career, played dual roles in their films. Kamal Hassan went as far as playing ten different roles in Dasavatharam. But with his controlled portrayal of a modern father and son pair, Surya stole the cake for the last decade.

In his career-best performance, Surya played the role of a son who was beset by the tragedy of losing his ladylove, and his ambiguous bond with his smoking-addict but extremely loving father. The film does not pretend to show the best father-son relationship you will ever see, instead it treats the relationship in a realistic manner.

It’s not only Surya’s guile that amazes you, but also Gautham’s sensitive direction, aware to each and every flinch of emotion. Divya Spandana and Sameera, unlike other Tamil film heroines, do not show flesh- instead thay have such dignified, strong-willed roles that you end up admiring them. Music by Harris Jeyaraj is melodious to say the least.

5. Vinnaithaandi Varuvaaya (Will You Cross the Skies For Me) (2010)

Director: Gautham Menon

Cast:  Silambarasan, Trisha Krishnan.

How much of an impact can be a boy-girl love story have on a generation? VTV will answer your question. If treated well enough, even a boy-girl love story can become an instant classic.

With Gautham at helm once again, the film tells a love story almost resembling real life, that of a middle-class young Hindu man who falls in love with an older Christian woman who lives in upper floor of his house. How an innocent love story transforms the lives of two people is what the movie is all about.

With a poignant, nostalgic ending, sincere performances, a very carefully crafted classy script, and a timeless music score, Gautham has rearranged the order of classic love stories in Tamil cinema history. The fact that the film went on to become such a cult hit is further testament to the impact it had had.

Some great cinematography and some really memorable dialogues add further punch for the film. The movie of a generation.

4. Aayirathil Oruvan (One in a Thousand) (2010)

Director: Selva Raghavan

Cast: Karthi, Andrea Jeremiah, Reema Sen.

Indian cinema is busy searching for a science-fiction caper that will bring them on-par with Hollywood, but fact remains that they already have a film that can match any other Hollywood production in this film.

After the ambitious Pudhupettai, Selva got more even more ambitious in making this mystical and historical adventure film about a group of archeologists who head to Vietnam to attempt unearth the mystery of a lost Cholan generation, which they discover, to their utter shock, still exists in dark caves in deep forests. This discovery leads to the unraveling of some dark, well-kept vengeful secrets between two factions that feature prominently in Indian history.

The film will not appeal to everyone as it requires repeat viewing for a viewer to be able to understand what is the film’s embedded context, especially in the second half. The film features a very authentic Cholan Tamil accent that you almost can never understand without the aid of subtitles. The foul language and innuendos in a way represent the stark contrast between the current generation with the generations of yore.

The film’s biggest appeal is its highly original story and screenplay. Selva Raghavan has written arguably the most original script of the decade and executed it with gritty characters. Karthi once again is excellent, while Andrea and Reema both have astounding female characters. Parthiban makes a great cameo, while GV Prakash’s majestic musical score is arguably his best work to date. Timeless.

3. Hey Ram (O Lord Rama) (2000)

Director: Kamal Hassan

Cast: Kamal Hassan, Shah Rukh Khan, Rani Mukherji, Vasundhra Dass.

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi has been treated with a halo on his head and constantly glorified as a ‘Mahatma’. But what about those who hated him, those who were affected by his decision, and ultimately the group of Hindus who wanted him dead?

This film, crafted by the genius that is Kamal Hassan, explores the anti-Gandhi movement from the point of view of a layman who gets affected by Gandhi’s decisions.

The film tells the story of a British India archeologist who sees his Bengali wife brutally raped and murdered by a group of Muslim fundamentalists during the colonial war between Hindus and Muslims. Frustrated with the lack of action by Gandhi against the Muslims, he joins a Hindu fundamentalist group and is eventually chosen to assassinate Gandhi on the group’s behalf.

A man is only great if seen through his enemy’s eyes. And this film does that very thing. Kamal Hassan’s direction is a good decade ahead of its time, as was his acting and his myriad of emotions. Naserrudin Shah does brilliantly in the role of Gandhi, while the film’s ability to recreate the carnage and tension in India during the pre-Independence era makes it stand out. A near-perfect film.

2. Kannathil Muthamittal (A Peek on the Cheek) (2002)

Director: Mani Ratnam

Cast: R Madhavan, Simran, P.S. Keerthana.

The subtle ‘Vellai Pookal’ has to be the decade’s best composition. And within those lyrics lies the poignancy of a brilliantly made film which explored the Sri Lankan war through the eyes of a nine-year-old girl.

A Lankan born baby is adopted by a middle-class Tamil family, and when she discovers the truth about her birth nine years later, she demands to meet her biological mother. This brings her adopted parents, a couple of literature writer and television presenter, to a civil war torn Sri Lanka, seeking the girl’s real mother, who was a LTTE rebel.

Mani Ratnam’s tackles a topic so delicate which such carefulness and invests plenty of love into his characters and story. All the performances are assured and mature. The music elevates the film to a new level. Most importantly, as is the case with most Mani films, the dialogues are almost flawless and almost all worth remembering.

Like a little peek on the cheek, the film takes a poignant way in looking at a war that is often viewed with very serious spectacles.

1. Anbe Sivam (Love is God) (2003)

Director: Sundar C

Cast: Kamal Hassan, R Madhavan, Kiran Rathod, Nassar.

Well, here we are. What more need I say about this film? Yes, it is a loose adaptation of the 1987 Hollywood film Planes, Trains and Automobiles. But everything else is a class apart. “Who is God?” that is a quintessential question that is sensitive for most. But once again Kamal, who wrote the script, takes a sensitive issue and boldly tackles it.

The film’s core message is that Godliness can be found in humans, that the act of love is in itself the presence of God. An eye-opener and a social commentary of so many levels, the film also has some great laughs, including some of the most touching scenes you’ll ever see in a Tamil film.

Kamal’s sincere performance will bring tears to your eyes, while Madhavan provides a jolly company all along. Kiran’s performance was so charming that you begin to wonder why she couldn’t perform with similar maturity in her other films instead of simply showing her flesh.