The Great Indian Kitchen - a movie review

OTT             : Prime Video

Language    : Malayalam

Director        : Jeo Baby

Cast             : Nimisha Sajayan, Suraj Venjaramoodu

The movie was highly recommended by some friends recently. Watched it with subtitles since I do not follow Malayalam. True to most Malayalam movies, I was expecting a thriller, despite the title. But the movie turned out to be so much more. 

The viewers' attention is riveted right from the first frame, as the visuals from a typical Indian kitchen blast their senses. Intricate scenes of vegetables being chopped, dough being kneaded, meat being washed at the sink, delicacies being fried, dosa and sambar being cooked diligently, making of tea, filter coffee etc. get your gastric juices flowing and you can even smell their aroma! 

Surely, such mouth-watering fare can only foretell blissful times ahead, right? Wrong.

The story begins with a typical arranged marriage, where a girl from an urban family ends up marrying into a prestigious yet rural family. The traditions of her new home require her to give up her aspirations for a career, and she becomes a full-time unpaid maid. She assists her hard-working mother-in-law (MIL), helping her day in and day out, in all the household chores uncomplainingly. The the two men just relax and do nothing to help.

The chutney has to be ground only on the stone slab and rice has to be cooked on the choolha - as the head of the house likes it that way. The use of pressure cooker, mixer etc. are frowned upon. This is in stark contrast to the girl's urban home that had had all the modern amenities. There is no relief in the regime to partake previous evening's refrigerated left-overs, or have rice instead of chappatis, if the lady is indisposed.

The father-in-law expects to be waited upon hand and foot. His wife brings him his toothbrush every morning and his chappals when he steps out of home. Though he is soft-spoken and polite, the steel in his voice as the head of the house, is palpable. The husband, a professor who lectures his female students about the importance of a formal family structure, cannot even be bothered to call in a plumber to fix a leaking pipe in the kitchen sink. 

The men have abominable table manners. The ladies can eat only after they have eaten, that too on a messy table. The stench from the drain water accumulating from the pipe leakage, slowly permeates the bride's life. There are not many characters or dialogues or even names spoken. The expressions on the characters' faces do the talking. The MIL soon exits for her daughter's delivery, leaving the bride to deal with the rigorous monotony on her own. The endless chopping, cooking, washing and cleaning up scenes flow into each other. Surprisingly, no one is ever shown bringing the groceries, veggies or meat to replenish the rapidly consumed ingredients!

The honeymoon period between the newly-married couple, stealing hugs in the kitchen and dining room, soon deteriorates into a stifling prison sentence for the bride. Barbs, verbal abuse and physical dissatisfaction, seep into the stagnating relationship as the husband's colossal ego cannot handle candid observations by his wife. 

The introduction of two new characters do nothing to improve the plight of our female protagonist. The paid substitute maid does chores in others' homes whenever the lady of the house is suffering from that time of the month. The elderly widowed aunt appears at the behest of the FIL, who prefers not to wield the reigns. Both these ladies end up mimicking the pre-ordained drudgery. The maid, Usha, hides her own menstrual dates and sings while working. She seems happiest of the lot, possibly because she gets compensated for her toil. The aunt represents females who espouse patriarchal values to other women, on behalf of the men.

The enforced isolation, discomfort and judgment during her menstrual cycle, soon takes its toll. As the men treat her like an untouchable at such times, especially during a festival, there is backlash from other men for a Facebook post made by her. The girl finally rebels when she is ordered by her husband to delete the post or leave. While her MIL is still slaving away at her daughter's lavish bungalow as a salwar-kurta clad maid this time, our heroine finally walks away into sublime freedom. 

What I liked is that there is no attempt made by the director to show a happy ending in terms of the husband apologising to her, or her finding a more understanding and broad-minded partner. There are no children to complicate the divorce either. Instead, she is shown to be an independent career woman, teaching dance, thus returning to her first love. She does this despite the severe disapproval of her own mother. While she has embarked on a journey of liberation, another woman is now the wife and slave, in her place. And so it goes on. 

Why do women not put their foot down in the first instance instead of waiting for the dam to burst? Why do even highly educated women tolerate so much before throwing in the towel? Why do others tag along with the men despite suffering themselves?

Hats off to the director for bringing out the contradictions in our traditions and the lopsided male-female roles in a family. 

Writer's retreat at Dorian House

I recently returned from a truly memorable retreat at the picturesque Dorian House in the heart of Auroville!! 

The hiatus provided a rejuvenating break from my relentless routine and urban luxuries. Walking to and fro between various bungalows, lounging on the floor for hours during class, interacting with an eclectic bunch hailing from diverse geographies, vocational backgrounds as well as writing expertise, was a novel experience indeed. After the recent career pivot from a corporate employee to an author, I was yanked out of my comfort zone yet again!

The bungalows were idyllic, verdant and pleasingly aesthetic. The vibrant colors, tasteful decor and thoughtful use of natural light, provided a soothing yet stimulating ambience.

The morning walk through the Revelation forest, breathtaking views and spontaneous meditation in the middle of the woods, was enchanting and exhilarating!

The various sessions were enlightening and the classroom assignments were eye-opening. What bowled me over was that I was finally among people who did not hold back from expressing themselves, were unapologetically authentic, while coping valiantly through the barriers of language, food and creepy crawlies. The environment supplied nourishing fodder to write and explore genres I have hitherto found daunting. 

The musical and “reading” night unveiled the talent of all artists. Each of us had a signature style. While an author astounded with his musical prowess, a musician read out some of his writing! The party introduced bohemian newcomers who regaled us with majestic performances.

The full moon and sunset were exquisite and provoked poetry. 

Somehow, they seemed more magical than usual in this place. 

The various plants, flora, dogs and peacocks added to the atmosphere. 

Since childhood, I have been happiest amidst nature and books. And this place provided both! The flaky power supply and intermittent connectivity did little to dim our morale. We found respite in the cosy cafes, quaint bookstores and street-side shopping.

The camaraderie, leg-pulling and poking fun at each others’ foibles, ensured that I never became homesick. This bonding among virtual strangers was unbelievable in such a short time, that too across multiple age groups.

When I returned home, my family immediately noticed the calm in me. My passion for writing glowed even brighter after all that external and internal stimuli.