Another interesting
event in our village was how the new movie releases were advertised. One day
when Jacob and I were standing at the gate, we were amazed to hear a music
which broke the silence of our otherwise quiet village. The music which began
to fill the air around us and it became louder as it came closer to us. We were amazed to gaze at a “Cycle-rickshaw”
in Kumbalam for the first time. It had side boards on which displayed cinema
posters. The cyclist, I noted, was
drenched in sweat and was thoroughly exhausted ploughing his rickshaw through
the sandy road. Another man was sitting at the back with a microphone attached
to a loudspeaker announcing the release of that film. The intervals of the
announcement were filled in by the music blaring from a record player. There
were a lot of boys running behind the rickshaw. They were collecting notices
thrown out as part of the advertising operandi. There were pictures in black
and white of the cast in the film and some information in bold letters.
Sudhakaran, my neighbour, collected a few notices. He gave me one and I ran to ‘Ammachi’ with it. She skimmed through
it and told us that a new film was being screened at Ayyappa talkies in the
neighbouring Island, Panangad. The film was to release on the next Friday
evening. The first show was at 3’O clock and the second show at 6’O clock. The
name of the film was “BHARYA.”
She enlightened us that
Lumiere brothers, Auguste and Louis Lumiere (October 19, 1862) are considered
to be the first filmmakers in history. Dadasaheb Phalke is considered as the
father of Indian cinema. “Neelakuyil’
and ‘Umminithanka” were the first
video films released in Malayalam without any audio. The main attraction of
this film was that it had both audio and video. A sound film is a motion picture with synchronized sound,
or sound technologically coupled to image, as opposed to a silent film.
Movie shows at this particular talkie opened an
avenue of entertainment for the Islanders. She promised to persuade ‘Appachan’ to take us for that film. So
we got ready for the matinee. We went a little early to the talkie so that we
could get comfortable seats, Damodharan, the owner of the talkies, gave us the
tickets. We were led in darkness by a person, who switched on his torch guiding
us to our seats. It was pitching dark in the hall. We sat on our special chairs
in a room which was at a higher level than the other people; it was a balcony
ticket that we bought. I noticed that a lot of people were moving towards
benches beside a white screen right in the front area of the hall. I asked ‘Ammachi’, “Why we had chosen a back
seat?” She told us, “Viewing the film from a distance is better unlike in a
live play where the closer one is to the stage the better.” In a few moments
the show was to start as it was houseful. We were all excited when the first
beams of light from the projector fell on the screen. A family scene wherein
Sathyan and Ragini, one of the popular stars of that time, were rowing a yacht on
the Periyar River. He sang a lovable song, so beautiful, with meaningful
lyrics: -
“Periyare…. Periyare….
Parvatha Nirayude Panineere
Kulirum Konde Kuninghi
Nadakkunna
Malayali Pennanu Nee
Oru Malayalee Pennanu
Nee
Periyare… Periyare…”
This
is a tribute to the Periyar River in Kerala. The writer admires “the clear
crystalline water that originates from the springs of the mountain ranges. The
lyricist likens the river to a Malayali woman who with grace revels and tinkles
with coolness.”
The
lyrics of this song were composed by Shri. Vayalar Rama Varma and the music by
Shri. Devarajan. This duet was sung by Smt. P. Santha and Shri. A. M. Raja.
I
found myself dozing off after an hour or so. It could be due to the unbearable
afternoon heat, smoke and
air thick with the respiration of men. The initial
thrill of watching the film died down and we rested comfortably in deep slumber
till the end of the show. I was awaked by the sobs and cries of both the young and old ladies in
the front hall. The bickerings among the young couple and the tragic end of the
film made them leave the humid and stuffy cinemas with swollen eyes.
Excerpts from
MEMOIRS
An autobiography
by
Joseph J. Thayamkeril
Lawyer, Kochi, Kerala, India.
josephjthayamkeril.blogspot.com
josephjthayamkeril@gmail.com
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