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The day itself started off on a sour note. Well, as a matter of fact, for the past couple of years, no day of mine has started off ‘sweet’, but generally speaking (i.e. in comparison with others), this day was particularly gross. Woke up with a volley of abuses from dad (who actually caught me by my throat in intense anger ). And dad, who had to go to office early, forgot his room’s keys. He calls me up as I’m about to leave college, barking orders to bring him the keys. Since the situation was urgent, I was allowed (albeit reluctantly) by my mother to take the Maruti 800 (unused mostly, thanks to the Tata Indigo). I dropped mom at her office, hand-delivered keys to a furious dad and entered college, 30 minutes late.

Till then, the day wasn’t as bad. ‘Cause I was actually happy. We had a ‘Demo week’ planned. And today is would have been the ‘Paandi day’, where every single guy/girl would come, dressed up as a ‘Paandi’ (for the uninitated, a ‘Paandi’ is a typical guy/girl from the state of Tamil Nadu, characterised by dark skin colour/loud clothes/loud-mouthed tamil). And I had all my ‘costumes’ ready, and had even worn my flashiest, loudest orange shirt. I’d also taken my semi-aviator Polaroid sunglasses and hidden dad’s worst lungi, and burmoodas for ‘effect’. I hadn’t worn them yet, but I soon would. Or so, I imagined.

The first shock came as a message from my friend Mithun – “Da no demo today.” I got it as I walked to the class, parking my car precariously in the ‘parking lot’. Enraged, I decided to bunk the class, and headed to the library. Chatting up with friends from the electronics department, and after writing a couple of autograph books, I returned to my class. Two hours were gone, and there was seriously no point in sitting in class. Yet, something forced me to sit in class as my staff advisor strode in. Alright, she’s a lady with whom I’ve some VERY huge problems. Nothing personal, but she’s been screwing me up in every possible way, since the very first month of college – the principal reason why I hate college so much. This lady comes in, and puts to display her appallingly-bad sense of humor, only to get forced-half-smiles, and that too, from just the ‘teacher-pleasing-girls’. “Warming up” done, she gets back to the board.

Meanwhile, I get a late delivered message from Mithun, citing the absense of teachers in class. I couldn’t help but smile at the late delivery. As I bent down, reading the message, I heard a voice call my name:

The lady had caught me.

“What are you doing?”

“Ma’am, I was …uh… checking my book.”

Lying comes naturally to me.

Intelligent that she was, she strode over to my seat, as I hid my mobile within the recess underneath the bench. She bent over, took the phone, and muttered ‘advises’ about not lying and crap. She strode off back with my mobile, and hid it within her Distributed Systems text. My 9k worth Samsung Star was reduced to the status of a bookmark!

I was counting each moment, as she taught, and wasn’t paying any attention to what was going around the class. The star was my most priced possession. It is a part of my body – and I felt amputated without it! My mind raced, searching for excuses. But still, I had a belief that I’d get my phone back. As the class got over, I rushed to the teacher. She was adamant. She wasn’t going to return my mobile, whatever be the case. I pleaded and went down as much as my ego did permit. She did not. And before I could say anything else, she stormed out of the class.

I’m so screwed up! Which is why I’m blogging.

The main issue, is I’ve to call up my mom from office, and hence I’ve to communicate with her. And, I’ve been texting friends about some personal problems – one sight of the messages would be enough for serious misunderstanding! Luckily, I’ve the strict no-porn policy, thanks to which I won’t be affected by such problems, if the lady tends to check the phone. But if my mom calls, I’m seriously doomed!

Right now, I’m wondering what to do next. Hopefully, I’ll get the phone back. Hope is the keyword here.

Will keep you posted.

A lot of interesting things happened after that.

So, I walked hither-tither, peace of mind lacking. Classmates offered words of solace, but none could console me. Finally, I took the desperate measure of actually writing a letter to the lady, pleading for the phone – yes I actually wrote a full written request, only to tear it down, realizing the very futility of the act. To add on to my pain, it seemed that the teacher had magically disappeared from the environs of the college! She was nowhere to be seen. Exasperated and utterly demoralized, I trudged back to my class, only to notice that lunchbreak was long over and another lecturer had gotten into the class. She, being a guest-lecturer (hardly a year older than most of us – some of us were actually as old as, or perhaps older than her!), was correcting answer sheets of the series exam in class, letting us free to do whatever we wanted. I was let inside, and no sooner did I rest my ass on the bench, I flopped down into deep, tired, sad slumber. Only to be woken up by colleagues who directed me to the piercing eyes of this teacher, that were transfixed upon me. I was summoned by the lady, cause my paper was being corrected. I went, dreamy eyed, and asleep, sat on the first bench. She realized I was too sleepy to even open my eyes straight and entertained my request to wash my face. As I got back, my paper was corrected and ready. Another failure, duh! I grudgingly collected the paper only to learn that I had actually gotten very good marks (and that’s not a very common thing for me).  First shot of happiness for the day. Woohoo!

Revitalized by the sudden shot of inspiration, I went downstairs to the staffroom to plead about the phone to the teacher. To my bad luck, she still hadn’t apparated. Rumour had it that she’d gone home, and if such be the situation, I’m practically doomed. I was on the verge of tears – well I’m an emotional person, and guys don’t cry. Had to take up a superhuman effort to hold ‘em back. I had to go and call my mom from office, and she couldn’t be informed of the situation, whatever be the situation. My mind shuddered even to think of the occasion if mom’d place a call to my phone. Trudging with a boiling pot of a mind, I reached class again. Friends realized that I was seriously off; their soothing words did quite a bit to lift me up. Soon class was over for the day and I walked out of the class. The lady was nowhere to be found. Some guys had to show their project’s progress to the lady, who happened to be their project guide. So I waited along with them. Along came news that she was actually teaching in a class – I heaved a sigh of relief when I heard that. No sooner, I called my mom and asked her to leave, cause I had to meet the lady. Didn’t mention that part to her though.

Thus started the long wait.

Now, she’s (in)famous for teaching extra-time. Hence, our wait got extended by ten more minutes and finally, she showed up. After dealing with her ‘students’, I went to her.  Thus started an exasperated grilling session. Grilling is too mild a word for it; it was actual verbal demoralized. My legs were pulled and tied up in the ceiling – such was the state of mine. Yet, I forgot my ego and stooped down as much as she wanted me to. I pleaded her, trying to make her understand my plight. Finally, she compromised, saying that she’d give me my phone, if  I buy her Dairy Milk. Guess what, I was so broke that I had to forgo lunch that day. And a lot of bystanders (including classmates) now joined in, supporting her. I was a lone wolf, fighting against a crowd of marauders. (

In the end, she gave me my handset. It was ice cold from the a/c. And the message which I had opened, while she’d confiscated my phone, was intact. Which means, she hadn’t used the phone. My sole saving grace. Plenty of missed calls and messages. Answering them, I walked back to the car.

One thought/decision was engulfing my mind, as I trudged away.

I WOULD NEVER USE A MOBILE PHONE IN CLASS ANYMORE!!

Gautham Menon is one of the best (and perhaps most successful) directors in the Tamil film industry. His long track record of  eclectic successes range  from sleeper-hit Minnale to an intense Kaakha Kaakha. An enthralling ‘Vettayadu Vilayaadu’ to an endearing ‘Vaaranam Aayiram’; the auteur has a habit of doing an encore of his spectacular successes, growing with each movie that emerges from his stable – ‘Photon Factory’.

When a movie like Vinnaithaandi Varuvaayaa is released and promoted with a barrage of PR, even the average joe has half a mind to drag his/her ass to the theatres, just cause it’s a Gautham Menon movie. Yeah, this is a movie which sells because of its director, not to mention other myriad factors – a long list topped by A.R. Rahman’s soulful music.

At the outset, the story seems mundane and hackneyed. Aspiring director, mechanical-engineer, Tam-dude Karthik (Silambarasan) woos landlord’s daughter Jessie (Trisha) who happens to be a Mallu Christian, and a year older to make things worse. He’s smitten by her at the first sight, follows her and speaks his heart out, only to get summarily rejected. He follows the female all the way to Kerala (with a movie-cinematographer for company) and meets her in the church to apologize. Spending a day with Jessie in Alappuzha (where Jessie’s native place is located), love starts blossomming between the two. What follows is a series of cascading events that are complemented by Jessie’s parents’ disapproval of the duo, a bitter physical exchange with Jessie’s brother and Jessie herself getting cold-feet. It all culminates to a very pragmatic and compelling climax that comes totally unexpected. And shocking.

As I said earlier, the two high points of the movie are Gautham Menon himself and A.R.R.s music score. Menon has moulded what is cliched story into total perfection and compelling awesomeness. The movie’s execution is taut and brilliant. Menon has a way with nuances, so we’ve attention to the minutest of details right – from Simbu’s check shirts to Trisha’s cotton sarees; no stone has been left unturned. Menon’s mastery of the language deserves special attention – the movie has some VERY classic lines, most of which are quotable. There’s one line which repeats itself all through the plot: “Ulagathille yevallovu penngal irunthum naa yen Jessie love panne?” (The world has many beautiful girls, yet, why did I choose Jessie? ) Plus, the movie has its share of goosebump-moments. The chemistry between the protagonists is again perfect, and this adds on to the beauty of such scenes. The subtle way Simbu collapses onto the gate of his on seeing the girl of his dreams, the first kiss in the train, the ‘central park’ scene towards the end… all are worked out wonderfully.

We see parallels with other Gautham Menon movies in this film. Menon himself plays a Cameo (the role of a spotboy in a shooting set), something he’s done in all his movies. He’s even dubbed the voice of Jerry – Jessie’s (Trisha’s character’s) brother. There are some references to the director himself, when Simbu’s protege cinematographer – the self-proclaimed cameraman of Kaakkha Kaakha mentions Gautham’s name. The frequent use of flawless English (and the F word)  is also a Menon exclusive. Of course, there’s the Kerala connection as seen in previous GM movies  (namely, Surya’s Kerala registration jeep in Kaakha Kaakha, the ‘Kozhikkode scenes’ in Vaaranam Aayiram) with Jessie being a Malayalee. There are two songs in Malayalam too; all of which leads to Gautham’s roots in Kerala; his dad hails from the state. Besides, the romantic scenes seem to be a direct transition from Vaaranam Aayiram and Kaakha Kaakha – an area where Menon excels supremely. As I said earlier, the ‘goosebump moments’ are just perfect, making Kaakha Kaakha’s intensive-passion and Vaaranam Ayiram’s whimsical-affliction seem puny in comparison. It requires significant foresight and creativity to do justice to such minutiae. Plus, at some point in time, one tends to suspect whether the movie has parallels with Gautham’s life. He too was a Mechanical Engineer and did a paradigm shift to movies, very soon. Menon’s first movie, incidentally, was a love story which went on to be a smashing hit – Minnalae (Simbu’s character goes on to direct a movie, later on in the movie). Which, perhaps, explains the extra mile.

Special acknowledgement goes to A.R. Rahman for the music. The oscar-winning musical prodigy needs no further mention and the soundtrack will go down in history as one of his best compositions ever. My picks are “Aaromale” – for its intensity and feel (sung by Malayalam Music director Alphons – his voice deserves plaudits) and a feel-good Hosanna. This is one album in which each song outperforms each other to such extent that it’s hard to pick out winners. The music has actually gone a long way to help the movie do brisk business.

Simbu and Trisha get applauds for their acting skills. Especially Simbu, who has carved a niche for himself with this understated acting. His expression of silent excitement and frustration, the unabashed, but controlled anger, the thinly-veiled hitting-on – all are classy, to say the least. Trisha also excels with her understated expressions. There are no flowing emotions/dramatic outpours in the movie. Everything is controlled, although the same cannot be said about the co-stars, who fade into oblivion as mere props, masked by the sparkling performances by the lead actors. At one point in the movie, you feel the movie has just two actors!

Realism is another striking feature of this movie. Perhaps, this is one singular accolade that every spectator would unanimous agree with. There’s no supernatural element whatsoever – not even within the stunt scenes. The plot, especially the climax, shines with stark realism that hits you straight in the gut, leaving you with an elegant depression of sorts as you walk  trudge out of the theatre. I say elegant, because the sensation is actually enjoyable. Apart from the climax, every scene of the movie lacks hype/super-realism, which is typical of Tamil movies. Even the stunt scenes are natural to the core; although Simbu escapes unhurt after the two-odd stunts, there’s the redeeming explanation that he’s the boxing champion at college.

Editing by Anthony is taut, and makes what would’ve been an insanely long movie, concise and watchable. So are the frames by Manoj Paramahamsa, which are rich in visual aesthetics.

Yet, Vinnaithaandi Varuvaaya is not a movie that would be loved by all. Not everyone would be equally endeared by the movie; many would tend to shun this flick, citing it  worthless. Sad fact, since, most of us are hypocrites, escaping from reality, hence the ostracization – that’s the only explanation I can offer. There’s the evident con of a hackneyed story, which even makes you yawn at times. Even with Antony’s editing, the movie  does drag. There aren’t many funny moments within the flick, and certainly you wouldn’t feel good once you’re out of the theatre, even though it does leave an indelible impression within your psyche. The portrayal of Kerala too, has drawn brickbats. There’s a fleeting glimpse of a ‘Sagar Alias Jacky’ flex board, which has let Mammootty fans down. (Dumb, I know!! ) Trisha’s character speaks appalling, stuttered Malayalam, which would’ve been worked out by using a better dubbing artist. Besides, the plot has a tad too many complications – which means, you’d have to see it a couple of times to properly comprehend the entire movie.

All said, the movie is certainly watchable, and is VERY STRONGLY RECOMMENDED. This flick is a total-must-watch. Pay a deaf ear to the negative opinions and give it try. The pic would be a refreshing addition to the clique of movies one should watch just for the ‘experience’ of it. Even if you’re brainwashed by the negatives, watch it for the music, watch it for the goosebump-moments, watch it for the chemistry, and the best of ‘em all – watch it for some of the best, quotable, pick-up lines!

My Rating: 4.5/5