The land of the American dream. The country where you get to achieve whatever you dreamt as a kid. The United States of America. The haven of opportunities. The place that everyone wants to visit and reside in. Nearly twenty years ago I decided to take the plunge into the American waters and flew across from my dear Karnataka and India on the other side of the third planet from the sun, to this well developed country. However, like most people from our state lineage, my footprints are still in the heartland of Kannada and Karnataka, and I remain tethered to everything that is Kannada — the language, the culture, and more importantly, closer to my heart, the Kannada movie panorama. It is perhaps hereditary, drilled into our genes and passed on from one generation to the next and beyond which makes we Kannadigas to irrevocably and irretrievably fall in love with Kannada movie and its legacy, from the time our parents took us to the crowded movie theaters in Majestic’s sprawling and bustling area in our dear, old Bangalore. When I had a kid nearly twenty years ago I started to ponder how I would explain to my little one our preoccupation and passion with Kannada movies. To make her understand and appreciate the Kannada movie sanctum sanctorum. And today I am reminiscing and revisiting the dilemma I faced in those days.
Almost inevitably, during our times, every child’s first encounter with the movies was in the competitive chaos that pervades all those theaters on Kempegowda Road. The mad rush for tickets, the arm wrestling, standing in long lines, making it to the theater three or four hours before the curtain unfolds, wrestling with unpredictable elements to get those coveted last row seats to get a cognizant view of the larger-than-life screen, holding seats for family and friends by placing shawls and handbags on adjoining seats, going to great lengths and leaving no stone unturned, merely to have an enjoyable movie experience. A plethora of movies across different theaters across the street, multiple movies in three or four theaters within the same building, also known as complex, with each theater competing with one another to get the turnstiles to spin faster. The primary objective of every movie goer always being to watch the movie at the first opportunity, or as some of my friends here say "FDFS", an acronym for First Day First Show, the primary objective being to earn bragging rights with family, friends and foes. Traveling in overcrowded BTS buses, with barely one foot inside the bus, and the rest of the body hanging out and crying for dear life, doing whatever it takes or took to reach the theater, because how on earth could you afford to miss out on the movie experience of one hero fighting a dozen criminals, defeating them and making them run away scared, with not a scratch on his own body to show after the bizarre battle ?
Waiting with bated breath for the hero to show up, and you get variety across every movie, with no two movies showing the hero's first appearance the same way. If in one movie the hero comes out tackling a criminal in the nick of time to save somebody, in the next movie he is right there at precisely the moment the girl's dad is looking for a bridegroom and life partner for her. And there was no dearth for epic heroes from the royal ancestry, as in ಬಬ್ರುವಾಹನ and ಮಯೂರ, mythological characters as in ಸತ್ಯಹರೀಶ್ಚಂದ್ರ, or plain, old, simple, mischievous commoners as in ಗಣೇಶನ ಮದುವೆ or ಗೋಲ್ಮಾಲ್ ರಾಧಾಕೃಷ್ಣ where trouble begets trouble and more trouble, especially so when ಗಣೇಶ and ಸೀತಾಪತಿ are involved, with ಸಿಹಿ ಕಹಿ ಚಂದ್ರು caught in the mix for no fault of his, or the rip-roaring scenes when tenant ಗಣೇಶ decides to teach the apartment owner ರಮಣಮೂರ್ತಿ a lesson by christening a dog after the owner and causing havoc in the ವಟಾರ.
Waiting with bated breath for the hero to show up, and you get variety across every movie, with no two movies showing the hero's first appearance the same way. If in one movie the hero comes out tackling a criminal in the nick of time to save somebody, in the next movie he is right there at precisely the moment the girl's dad is looking for a bridegroom and life partner for her. And there was no dearth for epic heroes from the royal ancestry, as in ಬಬ್ರುವಾಹನ and ಮಯೂರ, mythological characters as in ಸತ್ಯಹರೀಶ್ಚಂದ್ರ, or plain, old, simple, mischievous commoners as in ಗಣೇಶನ ಮದುವೆ or ಗೋಲ್ಮಾಲ್ ರಾಧಾಕೃಷ್ಣ where trouble begets trouble and more trouble, especially so when ಗಣೇಶ and ಸೀತಾಪತಿ are involved, with ಸಿಹಿ ಕಹಿ ಚಂದ್ರು caught in the mix for no fault of his, or the rip-roaring scenes when tenant ಗಣೇಶ decides to teach the apartment owner ರಮಣಮೂರ್ತಿ a lesson by christening a dog after the owner and causing havoc in the ವಟಾರ.
Every director coming up with his own idiosyncracies and injecting more and more of his legacy into the Kannada movie's bottomless well. And every person in the audience having his own or her own anecdotal experiences. Like watching ರವಿ ವರ್ಮ in ಕಸ್ತೂರಿ ನಿವಾಸ being a generous man and willing to donate everything he has, even putting his own family and money in jeopardy, and breathing his last when the lady comes to him seeking her beloved dove, only to find our never-say-never magnanimous man having sold his bird a few moments earlier. Or like in ಸನಾದಿ ಅಪ್ಪಣ್ಣ where the hard working single dad gets through umpteen difficulties in life and educates his son, only to find the latter betraying the faith the dad had in him and ending up being treated as a servant by his own son, the turnaround coming way too late for the son who ends up repenting his ill treating his dad and not understanding human values.
I have had my own, unique experiences with the celluloid screen and its offshoots. Like when I used to walk all the way from my home near Navarang theater to M.E. S. College, from 8:30 a.m. to 9:30 a.m., listening to songs as varied as the romantic ಬಯಸದೇ ಬಳಿ ಬಂದೆ, to Anant Nag traveling in a bus and bullock cart and crossing the river, all the while singing to himself on his way to see the beautiful ಚಂದನದ ಗೊಂಬೆ, to the blaring audio of ಭಾಗ್ಯಾದ ಲಕ್ಷ್ಮಿ ಬಾರಮ್ಮ during the Varamahalakshmi season, to the exhilarating ಬಾನಿಗೊಂದು ಎಲ್ಲೇ ಎಲ್ಲಿದೆ with the vintage Rajkumar in an immaculate outfit driving across his estate expressing his life's philosophies, and ending with ಮಾನವನಾಗುವೆಯಾ ಇಲ್ಲಾ ಧಾನವನಾಗುವೆಯಾ, with our quintessential hero the one and only ಬಹದ್ದೂರು ಗಂಡು teaching the princess certain basic civic, civilized norms and showcasing to her the harsh realities of the common man’s life, just as I would be stepping into the fortress that our college was. Every house would be playing the radio program ನಿಮ್ಮ ಮೆಚ್ಚಿನ ಚಿತ್ರಗೀತೆಗಳು along the way. Oh, I very well recollect that chastening encounter one day when I rushed across in an auto rickshaw all the way from my home to Geetanjali theater in Malleswaram and paid the driver one and a half times, not wanting to miss out on watching our angry, young, temperamental man ರಾಮಾಚಾರಿ getting into trouble with everyone in the small town of Chitradurga, and the indelible, legendary dialogues happening between ರಾಮಾಚಾರಿ and ಚಾಮಯ್ಯ ಮೇಷ್ಟ್ರು that’s part of the Kannada movie folklore. Or the indelible impression the message imprinted in me when ಗುಳ್ಳ's poverty-stricken father draws the entire village crowd to his house the day he dies that's in total contrast to the episode where the entire community decides to keep indoors and shuns the rich but hateful ಭೂತಯ್ಯ when he dies of a paralytic stroke.
How will I ever be able to do justice to my kid and myself when I talk about the knapsack of memories of the ambience of the gushing river waters, banks and high mountains amidst the fall, colorful leaves and trees, and the awesome picturization that people from my generation got to enjoy in ಶರಪಂಜರ ? All this before agonizingly being unable to bear the sight of ಮಿನುಗುತಾರೆ ಕಾವೇರಿ, that is Kalpana being dragged to the mental asylum after her traumatic exchanges with the society drives her to become insane. And how we have had countless discussions whether the movie was good or bad or whether the victim woman in this movie had overacted or performed her role to perfection, all the time hoping we come across folks who think like we do.
How am I going to explain to my new born girl the nostalgia of watching Puttanna Kanagal’s movies ? Time would stand still when I was there doing just that. It would be a surreal atmosphere, beginning on a pretty light note but gaining intensity as the movie progresses and you get into the sublime zone as the movie gets into the critical junction. You get transfixed as one scenario leads into another and before long we forget where we are and start thinking we are in a different age, different place and that everything is happening in real. It's unbelievable how Puttanna Kanagal could pictorize the human psychology and showcase on the screen different aspects that we always knew were around us but never knew how we could portray it or express it to the outside world. Or his ability to project something literal but making it indicative or symbolic of a wider meaning, like stumbling on the stone high up in the mountains, as in ಎಡಕಲ್ಲು ಗುಡ್ಡದ ಮೇಲೆ, or highlighting the paradox in how we see actors on the screen and think life is all hunky-dory for them whereas they go through difficulties like all of us do, which has been showcased in a splendid, albeit tragic manner in ರಂಗನಾಯಕಿ.
I reckon you would find it challenging to explain to any new kid on the block what it all meant to be a part and parcel of the rich tradition and legacy you were blessed with to enjoy and have now decided to forgo when you left the dear land of Karnataka, packed your bags and moved to the US for greener pastures and cleaner environment. Someone out there, can you kindly come to me and enlighten me how I should go about solving this conundrum ? Please help me resolve this conflict of growing up in the Kannada movie culture and now having to readjust to the new way of life, and more importantly of having to imbibe and convey my lifetime, enriching, unforgettable experiences in the Kannada movie to my little girl. This predicament I find myself in, which you could call as divisive, or perhaps, to give it a positive vibe, as unifying. This paradoxical situation of a scenario I find myself in. How shall I explain all these and much more to my new born kid in such a way that she can fathom how lucky we folks have been to be a part of all this melodrama ? Where shall I begin ?
How am I going to explain to my new born girl the nostalgia of watching Puttanna Kanagal’s movies ? Time would stand still when I was there doing just that. It would be a surreal atmosphere, beginning on a pretty light note but gaining intensity as the movie progresses and you get into the sublime zone as the movie gets into the critical junction. You get transfixed as one scenario leads into another and before long we forget where we are and start thinking we are in a different age, different place and that everything is happening in real. It's unbelievable how Puttanna Kanagal could pictorize the human psychology and showcase on the screen different aspects that we always knew were around us but never knew how we could portray it or express it to the outside world. Or his ability to project something literal but making it indicative or symbolic of a wider meaning, like stumbling on the stone high up in the mountains, as in ಎಡಕಲ್ಲು ಗುಡ್ಡದ ಮೇಲೆ, or highlighting the paradox in how we see actors on the screen and think life is all hunky-dory for them whereas they go through difficulties like all of us do, which has been showcased in a splendid, albeit tragic manner in ರಂಗನಾಯಕಿ.
I reckon you would find it challenging to explain to any new kid on the block what it all meant to be a part and parcel of the rich tradition and legacy you were blessed with to enjoy and have now decided to forgo when you left the dear land of Karnataka, packed your bags and moved to the US for greener pastures and cleaner environment. Someone out there, can you kindly come to me and enlighten me how I should go about solving this conundrum ? Please help me resolve this conflict of growing up in the Kannada movie culture and now having to readjust to the new way of life, and more importantly of having to imbibe and convey my lifetime, enriching, unforgettable experiences in the Kannada movie to my little girl. This predicament I find myself in, which you could call as divisive, or perhaps, to give it a positive vibe, as unifying. This paradoxical situation of a scenario I find myself in. How shall I explain all these and much more to my new born kid in such a way that she can fathom how lucky we folks have been to be a part of all this melodrama ? Where shall I begin ?
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