Skip to main content

Peranbu : A Poetic Experience


What do you actually name the feeling that lasts in you even after several months of experiencing something.Well, I would prefer to name it as a poetic experience. That's what I still feel even after several months of watching the movie Peranbu. The movie starring- okay, i would like to call it as a movie starring Amudavan and Paapa than Mammootty and Sadana, since all throughout the movie i could only see Amudavan and Paapa in this poetic experience. Peranbu, as the name suggests compassion is that holds all beings together. This poetic film creates an ache that will remain forever.

Amudavan seemed to be afraid of everything unusual. He ran away from imperfect things. And certainly fromPaapa. Paapa is not a perfect child but she was special. Paapa was nature's child.As the 147 minutes film ends,the hateful nature turns out to be compassionate for Amudavan. Eventually Amudavan accepts the beauty of nature as well as its differences.

Amudavan seeks shelter in nature whenever he feels helpless or when the whole world turns against him.Firstly when his own family rejects him and points out the consequences of bringing up Paapa with other normal children, Amudavan moves out to nature's lap into much isolated beautiful place for the sake of Paapa."...A place where humans never intrude and sparrows never die".Nature helps Amudavan in the form of sparrows and horse to be close to Paapa and understand her.

But a sexually matured Paapa becomes hard to handle for Amudavan. And that's when the nature turns miraculous and mysterious for him. With Vijayalakshmi he starts to live another life.But very soon everything collapses and the nature teaches him that the anger,regret, irritation,complains, revenge,and all such emotions within him is so meaningless.

The mind becomes dead, the earth deafens, and Paapa feels herself blind when Amudavan is compelled to leave her in a spastic children's home.Finally when Amudavan realises that he cannot do anything to fulfil his daughter's needs he decides to embrace the vast endless sea with his daughter.But then he discovers compassion with nature through Meera.

The helpless Amudavan and Paapa will always remain a visual pain to us when we realise that nature is hateful.But when we accept and embrace the differences in nature it turns out to be compassionate and our life seems to be the beautiful lines in the poem called nature like Amudavan, Paapa and Meera.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Shuli’s Love

  Shuli washed her hair twice that day. One for her love to cleanse  all impurities of reality  and one for herself. She took a nap twice  that day. One for love that took  her melatonin, And another to forget. Shuli laughed twice that day. One on behalf of her tainted  Love, And another on her botched brain  cells. She cried a quarter that day. Half a quarter filled with anger, and the other half with shame. She danced twice that day, One for lost time on love, And another for her love for dance. Shuli wrote twice that day, One for her heart and  Other for her brain. She gave two hugs that day, One for her wet pillow And another for herself. Shuli played hostess twice  that day, One for her pain and  the last for her sanity.

Little Poem

  My procrastination ends here, While the urge to write chokes my throat, My hands get paralysed as in a trance, I find excuses to write a little poem, I make up a lonely man, a distressed woman, a lovers’ quarrel, an unrequited love, But they are reluctant to play the part, Maybe i should give them a raise, Or throw a party at midnight, Maybe a few drinks might work, Only if they don’t puke. I can expect a little vandalism,  Some damage to the property and a mini scandal, Possibly out of rage. But at the end when I bring my weapons, Sometimes they get scared and back off, Some may never come back, Others find it funny and mock at me, And opportunists, seeing my desperation, Attacks me with manipulation. And all these while, my three panic attacks  talk to me in a different language, I try to write a little poem With a racing heart and flowing eyes, I write my little poem, tortured and broken, I end my little poem, Like a mighty warrior,  Who had a pyrrhic victory.

Madeline’s Mirror

  Madeline’s mirror told her she’s fat, It appalled at her shapeless dress, Covering a chunk of flesh. She looked at her broad shoulders  And big breasts,  which reminded her of a pile of  clothes that no longer fits her. But Madeline smiled and applied her eyeliner effortlessly. Her mirror sneered at her  chafing thighs kissing each  other when she moves. Madeline’s mirror found her  plush lips contradicting  the pair of flesh  on either side of it. It spotted the two chins fighting for space like contestants in the combat zone. Madeline admired her freckleless skin, and applied her favourite lipstick. The mirror reflected  her flabby arms  complementing her  saggy belly. Madeline moved closer  to her mirror,  which still in oblivion,  started to produce sympathetic smiles at her legs. It mirrored how her legs carry all the weight, hiding under her flowy dress. Appreciating her silky hair and perfectly manicured...