1942 Nandanar to 2024 Nandan

Published in Fipresci E-Cine India Apr-June 2025

Link to the article 1942 Nandanar to 2024 Nandan by Latha Rajasekar

Darwinism or the social orders associated with eternal laws, either of the two, or a combination of both, seems to have enabled the human species to evolve over the hundreds and thousands of years on the face of this planet. If ‘exploitation’ is an outcome of ‘competition’ in the natural selection process, caste has got to be the human-made hierarchical structure, to befit the ‘survival of the fittest’ theory of Darwin.

A mere ‘mention’, is all the religiously pious ‘Nandanar’ gets in the 8^th century, that quotes his longing to visit Chidhambaram’s Shiva temple. 300 odd years later, he gets a whole stanza for himself, making him to be a leather worker from a lower-strata (Pulayar). By then the record states he managed to visit the Shiva temple that he had longed to visit and was even greeted by thousands of temple priests.

The Saint’s tale, which roughly dates back to more than 1300 years, gets newer accounts added to his life in a 164-year-old text. He now is said to be a ‘bonded agricultural labour’ Paraiyar and a singer like many others in that community. This version of the saint’s story features exploitation of an Aboriginal slave by his Brahminical landlord. The 1942 film ‘Nandanar’ was adapted on this particular text and speaks the ordeals of a Bakth, a slave, visiting the temple of his choice, let alone enter into, for Paraiyar were categorized untouchable, then.

Is history, a collection of facts or mere narratives? Do the human agency, the historians, interpret and record only what they personally deem worthy? Is history all about perspectives and actions of who actually is recording the final analysis? Is history created, especially by the victors? Or does history create victors?  I ended the debate within – ‘History is not (just) an account of what happened, but how strong the historian’s memory is to inquire, interpret, analyse and assumingly record the unbiased perspective of his’.

There are many versions of this saint’s story, but this one was the last of the pre-independence versions and it is based on the 1861 text Nandanar Charitam, by poet Gopalakrishna Bharati, a protestor from a brahmin origin. If the century old tale addresses the upper caste’s impositions on a low born, it’s only fair to interpret that the situation would have been bleak before a thousand years when the saint actually had lived. During his lifetime in the 5^th century, the saint must have taken discrimination as the ‘order of the day’ that he lived in. Hence, the movie doesn’t document any protests or rebels on discrimination. It neither does cringe about untouchability. The movie focuses on ‘egalitarianism’, intended to make spirituality accessible for the marginalized.

The rigid caste system impacted many million lives. The Constitution was thrusted with an ‘Untouchability Act’ in 1955, later renamed as ‘Protection of Civil Rights Act, to cover wider discriminatory practices. While the Indian Constitution attempted to ‘stall’ the natural selection process, the Southerners had motioned attempts to reverse evil torments on mankind, through human movements in the name of Bakthi (Devotion). From the Saivite’s Nayanmars and the Vaishnavite’s Azhwars in the medieval times, to Swami Vivekananda a hundred odd years ago, the Bakti movement flourished. The atheist self-respect anti-brahmin movements, rose parallelly and the likes of Periyar, fought the natural selection in their own retaliating terms.

Nandan, our untouchable hero saint, is one among the 63 Nayanmars, who are worshiped by Saivites till date. The 1942 ‘Nandanar’ opera does touch upon casteism and also the core principles of social justice, equality and of course the spiritual liberation - ‘God is one for all’, but very subtly. In the age of constant religious animosity as now, the movie’s perspective on the need for social justice for the oppressed, to let them pray to the God whom they desire, was quite disturbing. Casteism did impose unimaginable restrictions, yeah. But to visually see the facet of oppression, the fact that Lord Shiva belonged to the Brahminical spectrum and the lower strata Hindus weren’t allowed to utter Shiva’s name, was particularly aching.

A friend playfully kept boasting Vishnu is mightier than Shiva and it hurt my sentiments as I belonged to Shiva’s lineage and she Vishnu’s. However, this pain of mine is nowhere near the pain of someone who is refrained from praying to the God of his choice. It is deeply agonising when one’s love is questioned and banned, be it the love for another human or for the almighty himself.

The opera’s lead actor M. M. Dhandapani Desigar, a Carnatic singer, plays Nandan, who later is hailed as ‘Nandanar’, a suffix that implies respect in the Tamil Language. (A small yet a significantly associated trivia - A person from a particular marginalized community in Tamil is called, Paraiyan, the singular form, and the plural form being ‘Paraiyar’. But the vernacular usage of the word ‘Paraiyan’, has been seen as a purposeful demeaning call, lacking respect. It has been widely criticized and the Madras Legislative Council as early as 1914, has replaced the word with more respectful terms, ‘Adi Dravidar’). Nandan educates his people not to fall prey for the superstitious practices, as conmen were weaponizing their ignorance. He is seen to be propagating his fellow men to pray to Lord Shiva, over their deity Karuppuswamy. He preaches, no God would ever require animal sacrifice from humans, as every living being is a life that matters to God.

As a viewer, I was left to contemplate, if these scenarios played out in a movie now, would be categorized as stepping to the boundaries of a civilian’s freedom of worship. If we are arguing that it is the right of an individual to worship a God of his choice, was Nandan discriminating his own people, for the ‘calling’ that he had from Lord Shiva? He looking down on his own God, Kula Deivam, Family Deity Karuppusamy and considering Shiva to be a superior God, does it kind of justify the Brahmins discriminating the lower strata?

Nandan pleadingly sings an appeal to his landlord to fulfil his calling to visit Chidambaram’s Shiva temple. His plea bleeds one’s heart, irrespective of whether one is a believer or not, for all that the poor man asked was, to visit a temple. One is left with a dilemma whether to sympathize the hero with regards to his slavery, untouchability or the discrimination he is subjected to. Nandan addresses his Brahmin landlord ‘Aande’, which I presume is short for ‘Andavane’, meaning a ruler or the almighty lord. The very sound of the word, gives an unrest.

Dandapani Desigar’s voice and the colloquial words in his singing, is sure to hook the audience. His perseverance in persuading his landlord to grant him permission to visit the temple, his acceptance of slavery, his respect for his master, the actor essentially seems to have gotten in to the skin of the character. The profound calmness as he sings in praise of Lord Nataraja and his psychological state, he is just immersed in a sea of devotion. His grave anxiety when his landlord gives him an unachievable target of ploughing and reaping vast acres of land, before he could visit Chidambaram, the Carnatic singer is at par with those versatile actors of his time and much later.

If the fifty-year short life of mine had witnessed drastic changes in these oppressive scenarios, we as a society have sure taken gigantic leaps in the oppression front. The lengthy passage for manual scavenging parallelly behind my mom’s house in the ‘Agraharam street’, has been a part of my childhood days. The unused passage still exists with a locked door in my mom’s backyard, in testimony to those dark days of classed and casteist inequalities in sanitation work. With regular articles about men dying during sewer works, questions if their ordeals would ever be over.

The highly debated climax, for which the actor had apparently apologized to the Dalit workers of KGF back then, is even more worrisome when figured in current scenario. Nandan, with the divine interference by Lord Shiva himself, makes possible the impossible of reaping the forty acres of land overnight, and is granted a visit to Chidambaram Temple. Since untouchables were not permitted inside, Lord Shiva interferes in the dreams of the temple priests asking them to receive Nandan into the temple. But when one of the priests suggests he ‘fire bathes’ in a pyre to prove his purity, Nandan readily agrees to do so. And he emerges unharmed and enters the temple to become one with Lord Nataraja.

What sticks out as a sore thumb is that he comes out, tuff haired, scared thread bearing, ashes smeared, Brahmin. The author Bharathi, a crusader for Dalit rights, apparently saw the climax as a salvation to the untouchables. And so does the ‘Shri Nandanar Guru Pooja’ an annual ceremony at Sivalokanathar Temple in Tirupunkur, where the untouchables are made to wear the scared thread, inferring they become equal to the superior Brahmin.

A catastrophically miscalculated move I thought. In the name of challenging caste hierarchy, it actually violates and in fact confuses the rights of the masses. But given the time frame of the movie in the mid 40’s the intention of the film should have been to spiritually empower the lower strata. However, the word ‘purification’ reinforces the hierarchical phenomena and fails to question the legitimacy of banning the marginalised to enter the Temple complex.

Moving on to the 2024 version of the story in a contemporary set up in ‘Nandhan’, it is the post climax compilation of real-life panchayat heads, is where the soul of the movie lies. The movie addresses the plight of the backward class candidates who contest for the village panchayat chairman posts in areas where the government designates posts for the Dalits. The real-life panchayat heads from these reserved categories, describe their trauma in the hands of the village’s upper strata. Discrimination seems to be imprinted in people’s DNA.

Interestingly, the lead characters, Nandan in 1942 and Ambedkumar in 2024, both do not fight discriminations, and bow it down as the order of life. They both sustain trauma, both mental and physical but persevere to attain what they intended to. The former becomes one with his Lord Shiva, the later gets to sit in the chair as a panchayat head and sign away orders. While the former boasts an illusionary equality of a Dalit attaining superiority in becoming a Brahmin, the later ends with a practical note that contradicts the words of our father of constitution. ‘Political upliftment through a separate electorate and reservations for marginalized groups is considered essential for their economic and social progress’, were the words of Dr. Ambedkar.  But in real life, coming to power doesn’t seem to solve their agony, it rather seems to be increasing the opportunities to be hurled at, as one is not let to even lift his head up, let alone holding his head high, despite becoming a village chairman.

The testimonies of real-life chairmen from the reserved political positions, narrates a grim reality, shaking the very foundation of our country. The heads of gram panchayats, sarpanch, called as Oor-Aatchi Mandra Thalaivar in Tamil, with their designations and panchayat names boldly displayed on screen, narrate their experiences ranging from physical assault, to being forbidden to enter the newly build panchayat office complex, given ultimatum to sign papers, and banned from even sitting in the chair at the panchayat office. They being squashed by the village upper strata and bureaucrats turning a blind eye, is heart wrenching.

Movies of the past cannot stay relevant to the evolved contemporary cultural values, due to constantly changing social norms, yes. The shift in education, gender roles and globalization, alters our outlook on life. Movies are pretty much like scriptures, documenting the mind sets of people of its era. What is alarming is, irrespective of technological advancements and diversified thought processes, the society’s rate of progress, proves insignificant. From the 5^th century saint to the 21^st century panchayat head from the lower strata are made to fight Darwin’s ‘natural selection’. A struggle to decimate the discriminatory past and present from being carried forward to the future, indeed.

Article 15, Prohibition of Discrimination, passed in 1948 had three amendments made to it and the last one being in 2019, to ensure equal opportunities to the economically weaker sections. And the Article 17 Abolition of Untouchability of 1949 seems to have no implication whatsoever at ground level, when we hear to these brave testimonies in the 2024 movie, Nandhan.

Historical narratives of many more ‘fire baths’ and plentiful ‘constitutional amendments’ might cross our paths int the coming eras. But it seems these kinds of prejudices may never wear off. Maybe a miraculous genetic mutation could embed compassion and benevolence as our innate qualities and save the world.

A society where social, moral and political values are in perfect balance, is a utopian vision, meaning no such land exist. Harmony and coexistence are the bare minimum requirement to attain a just and equal environment. Barrage of news involving prohibition of entry in to temples, leaves one in despair, the recent one being on the 23^rd April 2025. ‘Dalits denied entry to Shri Maha Mariamman temple festival in Tamilnadu’s Namakkal district’. What is more regressive is the Dalits were asked to build their own temple. ‘Nandanar to Nadhan’ have failed to impart any learning, apparently. Officials did intervene, asserting that the temple was under the government run Hindu Religion & Charitable Endowment department and hence all Hindus have ‘rights’ to pray there.

Mustering up hope in the face of adversities is the sole option, to reassure ourselves. If collectively strived for, in consistent steps, the outcome might become significantly favorable, someday, somewhere, for some generation.

Latha Rajasekar

I hail from Salem, Tamil Nadu. I am a movie blogger, writing predominantly on South Indian language films. FTII’s Film Critic course and Film Appreciation courses online, helped me hone my skills in appreciating films and writing about my movie experience.

Reference:

Link to the news article on Dalits denied entry into the temple in Namakkal District, TamilNadu, India. https://www.indiatoday.in/india/tamil-nadu/story/tamil-nadu-dalits-caste-hindus-sri-maha-mariamman-temple-festival-namakkal-2713389-2025-04-23

 

 

Polity, Propaganda and Parasakth

 Polity, Propaganda and Parasakth

  Published in https://fipresci-india.org/e-cineindia-january-march-2025/

                                            

Link to the article : https://fipresci-india.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/9.-Art.-Latha-Rajasekar-Parasakthi.pdf

Birthing a film, that was requested to be stalled from being censored, after it took shape into its visual medium, is bound to go down in history. Proceeding to release a movie is no easy feat, when letters were thronged by right wing leaders, to the then Chief Minister of Madras State, requesting him to curb the screening. It should have been a mammoth task for the team to surpass all obstacles that were thrown their way and take their finished work to the theaters. While the era of dramas in the 50’s, were idealizing lead characters in the movies which were largely influenced by societal norms, the conditioned audience would have been startled for sure, with a ‘new mood realism’, called ‘Parasakthi’.

The 1952 Parasakthi’s ground breaking story telling and sharp dialogues attacking social inequalities and religious superstitions have influenced generations and beyond. With a recent announcement of a period film, by the same name, creating a buzz in Tamil industry, it only becomes relevant to revisit the ‘trend setter’ movie.

The story was based on Pavalar Balasundaram’s stage play whose primary intention should have been to portray the setbacks faced by Tamils, during the World War II. However, the screenplay writer, efficiently tweaked the tonality of the story by adding a satirical tone to it. It was seen by many as a personal agenda, of a political party’s representative. The religious satires in the movie are so very blunt and straightforward, given the time of the movie’s release.  

It was then, the world was introduced to the daring and dynamic side of the 28-year-old fierce youngster, Mr. M. Karunanidhi, the screenplay and dialogue writer of Parasakthi. Though his maiden venture was for a M.G. Ramachandran starer Rajakumari, only in Parasakthi, he proclaimed his political affiliations, through rebellious dialogue composition.

Rationalists in Tamil Nadu, did campaign against superstitions nearly half a century before the ‘Periyar E.V. Ramasamy’s Era’, in the 1930’s. A progressive journal ‘Tattuva Vivesini’ in Tamil, meaning ‘inquirer of truth’ and the same in English called ‘The Thinker’, were published by the Madras Freethought Tract Society in British Madras, as early as 1882-1888. The journal critiqued the incontrovertible religious principles and focused on social issues like caste systems in India, advocating scientific evidences. A few more ‘freethinking’ intellectual groups in the Old Madras Province, like the ‘Hindu Freethought Union’ were also critical of the Hindu Myths.

But it was Periyar’s rationalist views that were the most challenged. He was accused of promoting godlessness, being indiscriminate and being a ‘scourge’ of Hinduism. Following independence, in 1949, C. N. Annaduari (Anna), parted ways with Periyar and spawned a new party, DMK, just a few months prior to the works of ‘Parasakthi’ began. Anna, supposedly is the first politician from the Dravidian Parties, to use his oratorical and writing skills to gain political mileage.

A student activist in ‘Periyar’s’ Self-Respect Movement, born as M. Dakshinamurthy, who later changed his name to M. Karunanidhi, joined hands with Anna in DMK at the age of 25. Karunanidhi, a self-described rationalist, went on to become the propaganda voice of the newly found party, exhibiting his reformist principles. A critique of superstitions and organised religion, the rationalist, invested his reasoning and knowledge in Parasakthi’s screenplay. The movie opens with duo girls dancing and singing the song ‘Dravida Nadu’ in praise of the Dravidian land, a proclaimer, propagating the orientation of the movie.

Parasakthi, apart from its political references, amongst many sub plots and hidden agendas, is an honest attempt in depicting a ‘self-realisation’ journey of the three brothers who had immigrated to Myanmar. While one brother is forced to return to attend their sister’s wedding in Madras, the other two, are forced to evacuate war zones and later return to homeland. The hard-hitting estranged siblings ‘rich to rag’ facet is the main plot of the movie. But the writer channelizes the screenplay, so the audience would experience the common man’s actual ‘pain of poverty’, in a crooked, women maligning society. The screenplay is a well-defined funda of polity, hinting anti-incumbency. However, the pain inflicting dialogues, does lure the viewers to sway towards the writer’s desired path.

If a movie can stay relevant till date after a whooping seven decades, the team needs to be accoladed, for their craft, struck the right chords ‘then’ and it continues to do so, contemporarily. The razor-sharp dialogue by the doyen, exfoliates the societal inequalities, off the mindset of the privileged lot, both on and off screen. The key here is, the condemning dialogues doesn’t spare the protagonists either - one a learned Judge, and the other, a pampered extravagant.

The debutante thespian Mr. Sivaji Ganesan, would have known that ‘Parasakthi’ is his door to a whole new world, a much mightier one than his theatrical stages. But little did he know that he is about to be proclaimed, as one of the greatest Indian actors of all times. Mr. Ganesan would easily be the most versatile debutante any industry would have ever witnessed. The actor excelled, certainly because his debut character arc, paved a comprehensive platform for him to perform.

The actor juggles extremities with grace and of course, with jaw dropping ease. The actor is introduced as a sumptuously spoilt rich kid, who pities the beggars on the roads of Madras and tosses a coin to the porter in tip. Later, he becomes a beggar himself on the pavement and then turns a swindler, under the guise of a lunatic. A dream debut character for any performer, indeed.

The actor on one hand, connects beautifully with the audience on his dilemma of not divulging his sorry state, to his widowed sister Kalyani, who dreams that her brothers would take her and her infant to the land of wealthy life, someday. On the other hand, he enchants the viewers with his platonic love towards the girl, Vimala, who becomes instrumental in mending his thoughts, broadening his perspectives and aligning his focus on achieving a stable and thriving society. The actor devours his meaty role as he gets to showcase variety in his performance and his nuanced facial expressions and fiery dialogue delivery, left him, unparalleled.

In a posthumously published 2007 memoir, Sivaji Ganesan had quoted a sound engineer who had commented on him- ‘the new boy was opening his mouth like a fish, whilst speaking’. However, the audience proved this criticism wrong, as his high pitch sound, resonated well within his vocal cavity, enhancing his articulation and rendering clarity to his dialogues. It in fact, made him more relatable to real life characters and connected him to the audience, big time. The diaphragmatic dialogue delivery was a ‘theater artist trait’ of the actor, and it made him come alive on the silver screen, almost making him tangible.

Parasakthi’s pinnacle is, its ‘self-realisation’ journey, the actual transformation of the siblings to become a newer version of themselves. The conversation with Vimala, the activist, refines the thoughts of Mr. Ganesan’s character Gunasekaran. She points that, had he not thought, what the society might perceive of his act of losing his wealth to a fraudster, while being intoxicated, he wouldn’t have stooped low to become a beggar or a thief himself. These kind of dialogues by the lateral thinker Karunanidhi, interplays both with his on-screen characters and off-screen viewers.

The judicial elder brother, Chandrasekaran played by the fantastic S.V. Sahasranamam, is destined a transformation too, but rather a painful one. He chases away his sister, whom he doesn’t recognise and her baby whom he doesn’t know it existed, when she comes begging at his door steps. And even sad, he shoos them away to receive an eminent guest for the dinner that he is hosting.

Viewers are left to ponder, however noble souled a person might be, like that of the character Justice Chandrasekaran, the plight of our country is that we are conditioned with a reflex to disregard a person seeking alms. Sadly, it is true that the number of hands seeking alms, were and are, insanely high. In today’s world, we are often in doubt if we are actually feeding the homeless and hungry, amidst the begging mafia. We are even evaluating the physical abilities of those begging and are taught not to encourage any able bodied to beg. The incident in the story, wields a judgment on our own selves in self-scrutiny and questions our conscience even after several decades.

Chandrasekaran’s is a brave role, and his transformation comes with a penalty of losing sanity after knowing that it was his ‘hungry’ sister and her infant, he had shooed away. What could be worse, he is the sitting judge for the case of his sister Kalyani’s. She is accused of murdering her infant, as she could not find any means to feed the child.

The second brother, Gnanasekaran’s character, played by S.S.Rajendran, is a solution driven one. Japanese bombardment in Myanmar, forces the brothers to walk towards their homeland, but Gnanasekaran loses his leg in a shelling and is lost. And, to one’s sorrow, he is left with no option, other than seeking alms for a living. However, he proactively aims to create an association, to reform the ‘begging community’, to steer them away from organised crimes and to facilitate their rehabilitation. The story comes a full circle, doesn’t it?

The screenplay offers solution to societal issues, with due references to C.N.Annadurai’s ideologies. In the conversation with Vimala, Gunasekaran accuses the society, as an ‘abode of beggars’, an ‘inn for lunatics’ and a ‘den of thieves. But Vimala replies, duly echoing the voice of Anna’s newly found political party. She accuses Gunasekaran that he had unknowingly let the society fool him to become a beggar, a madman and a thief. Vimala goes on to narrate, that many people have become ‘rich in the guise of mad men’ and ‘millionaires in the guise of beggar’. She calls Gunasekaran, ‘self-centred’, because he is bothered only about his own sister and not concerned about the innumerable destitutes of the society. It was and is, the party’s call to common men, the ‘potential’ party carders.

Sensational conversations like these, went on to become the voice of Tamil Nadu’s polity, initially winning people’s heart and winning elections there on. These revolutionary insights did lay foundation for many state laws, such as slum replacement, legal land documents and rehabilitation of beggars through vocational training and skill development.

Though the movie was a celebration of kinship, it was those fiery dialogues, from the point of view of a common man, that made ‘Parasakthi’, a supreme force. Mr. Karunanidhi adapts a critique’s tone, in attacking the age-old cherished beliefs and institutions. His own ideologies on Religion, God and Priest, permeates his writing and resonates profoundly with the discriminated mass, till date. His rationalism became an awakening call for those who internalized the pain in his writing, and it did provoke the consciences of many. Controversial elements and the rumored ban of the film, only boosted the movie’s theatrical run.

Characterisation becomes noteworthy, as and when each character mouths the writer’s principles and beliefs, either as satires or in a condemning tone. The archetypes of conmen, like the black-marketer and the misbehaving priest, were always paired with a helper, who sympathized the victim, duly concurring with the audience. Every dig at mythology and casteism, served as subliminal coercers, questioning the ‘buried’ rationalist, in each viewer. The movie is a sheer illustrative example, exhibiting the strength of a writer.  

Karunanidhi’s literary prowess, was explicit, in the assonance of the court scene monologue. Veteran actor Sivakumar had mentioned on several occasions that, aspiring actors of those era, would be expected to recite Karunanidhi’s writing, in auditions. The climax monologue soon became Karunanidhi’s identity. All movies that he wrote thereafter, mandatorily featured a sequence, to accommodate such lengthy pieces, with similar vowel sounds. This ‘branding’ of Karunanidhi’s, electrified the viewers, as they aroused in excitement in the theaters and led to evolve as a cult in his political career.

Religious satires are difficult to comprehend for any believer, like me. However, the sarcastic remarks registering his contempt, never failed to leave the audience in awe. Every dig, leaves an overwhelming amazement in admiration for the writer. He compliments the process, befittingly, using his language proficiency, an innate trump of his.

Kalyani the sister of the three brothers, asks her father, if he could postpone the wedding, since her brothers couldn’t make it. The father replies, ‘it would cause trouble if the astrologer’s date is changed’. The astrologer’s auspicious date, is left to linger in the ears of the viewers, as Kalyani’s marriage ends abruptly, making her life a living chaos. The dialogue questions such believes, without directly condemning.

Had someone missed these correlations, the monologue by Gunaseakran in the pre-climax, dutifully reiterates, to make fresh digs. He claims at the court - ‘Sister Kalyani’s, is an auspicious name (meaning good fortune and prosperity), but she is now an epitome of inauspiciousness, left without even a mangal sutra’. The viewers are made to recollect Kalyani’s misfortune in becoming a destitute by losing her husband in an accident, (whom she had married on an auspicious date), and later losing her grieving father.  

Mock on astrology continues in the ‘molesting priest’ sequence as well. When the priest blesses a devotee ‘long life’, Gunaseakran from behind the deity, warns the priest to assess his own horoscope first, as he is about to kill him. In answer to the priest’s exclamation, ‘Was it Goddess Ambal who spoke?’, Gunasekaran replies, ‘When has the Goddess spoke, you fool?’. These are highly insensitive words from any believer’s perspective, and was the very reason why the dialogues were requested to be axed by the censor committee. It still is bound to hurt the sentiments of many and will continue to do so in future. But the writer’s counter narrative might be, he intended to address the pain of the vulnerable mass, in a ‘conmen infested world’, who are exploiting them, in the name of religion and superstitions.

Nuanced variations in characterisations, creates a conversation within, on right or wrong, while still being invested in the movie. It almost becomes an interactive exercise after a point. For instance, the activist Vimala, played by beautiful Pandari Bai, is not mad at Gunasekaran, who runs away with her food packets, pretending to be her porter at the railway station. She is pitying him thinking he should have been hungry and even admires his interesting facets later when he is at her backyard, sharing the stolen food with the crows. In a much later scene where Kalyani is shooed away from many homes, and finally by her own brother, one can’t stop comparing the contrasting traits of Chandrasekaran with Vimala.

The writer’s ironical satires, became huge highlights of the movie. His writing adorns the screenplay with several trivial looking consciences prickers, but landed big, amongst audience. One such accoladed scene is, the name of the lady who refuses to give alms to Kalyani, is ‘Annapoorani’, the name of a Goddess in Hindu mythology, representing food and nourishment. In another instance, when Kalyani asks food from a man who is seen sitting outside his house, counters, he is hungry too. He says, there isn’t much difference between them both, for he hasn’t eaten in three days. A satirical testimony indeed, reflecting the ill effects of hoarding and famine in the state.

The refugee camp sequence highlights the mindset of the unfortunate lot, the burden of caste on a common man and the discriminative politics of the northerners Vs southerners. The refugees from Myanmar are refused place and are mistreated. The dialogues rebel, calling out lack of humanity, morality or love in the hearts of fellow countrymen. While Gnanasekaran’s character, aims to tremble the government onscreen, through the revolutionary Statewide Beggars Conference, demanding voting rights for beggars, the politician Mr. Karunanithi captivates the audience with his writing skills parallelly.

The celebrated climax monologue is the soul of the movie. It almost summarises the story and the ideologies, citing emotional and psychological logics in substantiation. Ganesan’s diaphragmatic delivery, ascertains the moral and social factors that forced his sister to attempt suicide after throwing her child in the river.

The societal accusation - ‘Famine impelled his sister to kill her infant’, has been thoughtfully threaded through the greedy black-market hoarder’s character. Gunasekaran tries to establish the evil outcomes of hoarding in society, in a beautiful ‘vowel rhyme’.  The dialogue rhymes, ‘Was it the fault of ‘Panjam’ (famine) to let the swindlers grow, or was it the fault of those who invited famine to their ‘Manjam (bed), indicating the rich misbehaving hoarder.

Theses catchy phrases result in an internal monologue in the minds of the audience, days or perhaps decades in this case, after watching the film. If warfare were the core cause of food shortage, the writer highlights the human aspect in messing the distribution chain, a major human cause, resulting in horrific tragedies. The writer voices out the common man’s perspective, in resonance to their harrowing pain.      

On the other hand, how does one process the fact that Gunasekaran and Kalyani were ‘pressurized’ to turn unlawful? How do we process the fact that it was the society that drove them to become convicts? Believers, easily opt to term the twisted mishaps as someone’s ‘fate’. But Karunanidhi who despises supernatural and pre-destined elements, writes in assonance- “Is it the fault of ‘Vidhi’ (fate) or is it the fault of ‘Veenargal’ (worthless people) who thrive in the name of fate?”

Be it ‘Karma’ in Hinduism or ‘Qadar’ (God’s Decree) in Islam, they all point to the broadly used term ‘Fate’. What explanation do we have in favour of ‘fate’ other than our religious texts? While only scientific evidences would suffice as explanation to our interrogative young minds, are we inevitably branded as inhumane and non-empathetic, as we continue to blame it all on ‘Fate’? Are we pushed to theorise ‘Fate’ as directly proportional to lack of empathy and compassion?

Qualitative dialectical oppositions like these might prompt one to investigate ‘communism’ and crosscheck ‘philosophical texts on reasoning’. But, if the essence of any religion is ‘to spread love’ and ‘be kind’, the likes of Gunaseakarans seem to strive for, is also the same kind of ‘love’ towards fellow beings.

After exploring newer understandings in introspection, majority of the viewers, who were open for logical transformation, acknowledged the concurrences. The writer’s words in fact became instrumental in making the viewers pronounce inwards, the need to rework their algorithms, to master basic humanity, despite religious orientations.  

On the contrary, the monologue partly can also be seen as, the writer’s defence for his religious satires, all along. Some even see it as the writer’s redemption arc. An attempt to amend atheist deliberations and to address misconceptions of dialogues.

The five odd minutes monologue, would easily persuade any rational human to side with Gunasekaran’s emotional arguments. It is Karunanidhi summing his noble intentions behind his ridicules. Nevertheless, contradictions continue to prevail till date, in spite of ‘creative liberty’ and ‘freedom of speech’ justifications. Sensitive phrases questioning and ridiculing the existence of God, irks believers, but such iron fistedness becomes mandatory to keep a check on the mushrooming religious conmen, who exploit people encashing their superstitions.

What is worrisome is, the concerns of the writer about the dire situation of the majority of our people, hasn’t changed much, in our contemporary lives, even after seven long decades. Poverty indexes dodge the real homeless nomads and alms seekers, paving way for misrepresentation of ground realities.

The concerns worsen by the thought that the writer’s anguish, hasn’t wiped poverty off the state, even after many terms of power in their hands. Except for making the adage true - the rich got richer and the poor became poorer with soaring price rises, history seems, all stagnated.

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The article shaped up after a detailed interview with Mr. Balasubramaniam, my dad, who himself had aspired to become an actor 7 decades ago. His textile family, hailing from a small-town Salem, in Tamil Nadu, had to heave my dad, during his late teens from Madras and curfewed him not to enter the movie industry. Now at age 82, his eyesight has failed him due to a regenerative retinal disease and is hard of hearing too. Yet, he watched the movie with me with great zeal, often pausing, to share trivia about the movie, and decoding the maker’s intentions for me. His ‘common movie lover’ point of view, threw light on the expectations of the youth of that era and how the writing inspired many, in more than one way. Interestingly, being staunchly religious himself, he adores the monologues of M. Karunanidhi’s and recites them in perfection. He is an ardent fan of the versatile actor Mr. Sivaji Ganesan and the enchanter, M.G. Ramachandran.