Skip to main content

Kaathal - The Core Breaker of 2023

 


Kaathal - The Core is one of the movies of 2023 that left an ache in my heart. It's the kind of movie where you just sit and stare at the wall for hours after you finish it. I keep thinking about the pain of Mathew, Omana, Thankan and Chachan and it is something that continues to haunt me.

Mathew’s pain is something that has become part of him by living the prime of his life pretending to be an integral part of a heteronormative society. His calm and meek personality is like a dormant volcano that is likely to erupt anytime. When he confronts his pain with Chachan and Omana, we see him peeling off his outer layer of crust and showing us his core. The core, that has carried deep wounds of fear and shame of coming out and confronting his fears, all this while. 

I don’t think I have seen a more compassionate and kind woman as Omana in recent movies. Despite being in a marriage that doesn’t fulfill her needs, she stays in it for years for the sake of Mathew. And when the right time comes,she prepares to end it paving a way to end Mathew’s pain too. Omana empathises with Mathew and later they become each other’s safe space to relieve the agony. Their marriage might be similar to that of many others in our society that sacrifice the lives of people in vain.

Chachan’s silence in the movie is louder than words. He realises his mistake and carries the guilt of his decisions and misjudgements in silence. Thankan also hides his agony and sees people around him enduring the same. He wants to alleviate their pain but is helpless and afraid. The suffering of all these characters that pierce their core left me wondering desperately how different things would have been for them if this was a better society. When the movie ends the story showing an ideal society, we realise how far we are from achieving it and how many lives are left to be sacrificed. Mathew and Omana’s story is a mirror that is held towards us to reflect on the people who suffer silently carrying a heavy heart without knowing when to get it out off them.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Reminders

I want you to remember The photograph, you loved On the wall, That reminds me Of the last spring Where the potted sunflowers At our home smiled And the hanging creepers Mumbled, Of the girl who was looking For someone. You saw a thousand figures Dancing in her pupils A Mexican woman in Her huipil, A drunken man with his Lyre; Looking for the right Strings,And A peahen waiting to mate. You admired the Vine stems heading North In the picture, The cheap beads that The girl wore And the broken bridge Behind her, From which a fish Jumped for a self introduction. And when you remember Your dear picture, I want to remind You of the Coffee cup that tasted Your lips, The laundry drugged By your smell And the mirrors that Reflected your images. And you should know that The sunflowers no longer smiled And the creepers were silent Till yesterday. But today when The rain sprinkled its drops I see clearly the pupil Of the girl, Dark and intense,...

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...

Murmurings of Married Women

  I hear murmurings from the graveyard In the West of the town,  Of married women,  Dead and disappeared years ago.  I wonder what a time they had,  What a life they lived.  Their husbands weep and weep and forget them,  They praise how they looked after their women,  Covering in glittery gold,  Buying them silly silks,  Giving makeup for a make-over.  But still, the women murmur,  Their voices seem to break the edges of tombs.  They force the sun to dry out the flowers on them quickly.  I lowered my face and listened to the tombs,  It seems their lipstick was revolting,  Their eyelashes lifted to show the desperation.  They talk about the lies they had to live through,  In fear of strangers' pointing fingers on getting a hint on their unhappy marriages.  They call out their abusive partners,  Told me to look for the broken bangles behind the kitchen for proof,  The blood-stained clo...