THE GURU |
I nearly missed it. Preoccupied with umpteen numbers of mundane
chores, I could not have noticed but for a stroke of serendipity. Besides, there were any number of events, I
thought, that gripped the attention of this nation for last one week. An MP was slapped four times by another MP in
daylight at an airport lounge just because the former is rumored to have said
something unsavory about the party leader of the latter. Defense forces, particularly the navy, have
been in full swing to trace out the whereabouts of the remaining pieces of an
air force aircraft that flew into oblivion on the way to Andamans. Bangalore is experiencing what Chennai was
experiencing on the first two days of December 2015. Gurumoorthy of Sangh Pariwar was sending, on
prime time, ominous signals of an impending Hindu hegemony in a land that is
known for its unending tolerance of every kind.
Amala Paul, the slender beauty of Kollywood, is parting ways with her
director husband, Vijay. Surprisingly,
India posted a historical overseas win over West Indies. Chennai boy Ashwin
looks more handsome than ever as he is getting busy with scalping heads in
countless numbers – match after match.
With all these things hijacking the
attention of the nation and yours truly, I almost missed it. It was full page. That too, center page. Obviously, it could not have been
bigger. And the septuagenarian, in his
trademark whites, was caught, in a size slightly larger than the post card, smiling
enigmatically at us. The man who taught
every other director, of his times and in the succeeding decades, how to make films. The man, who told us that the frames of
a feature film need not be filled with jarring sound bites, and his tranquility
are famously woven into eloquent set-piece in the narrative of Tamil cinema. Uthirip Pookkal, Johnny, Mullum Malarum,
Poottaatha Poottukkal – these celluloid epics stand towering testimonies of
the genius of man.
Mahendran, the legendary Tamil
director, turned 77 on July 25th.
It has been forty years since Mullum Malarum was released. In commemoration of its release in 1976, the
director was interviewed by Aasai for The Hindu (Tamil Edition) where the
director shares with us many fascinating details and anecdotes of his active
years. The most curious of them is why
and when Sridevi decided to undergo a nasal cosmetic surgery. It was the ace cinematographer of 70s and who
cranked camera for most of Mahendran’s movies Ashok Kumar (except Mullum
Malarum for which camera was handled by none other other than Balu Mahendra)
who unwittingly commented on Sridevi’s “ugly, big shapeless nose”. Mahendran
feels that it is because of this quip by Ashok Kumar, Sridevi should have
rushed to have her nose rebuilt. The director, during the course of this long
interview, goes on elaborating the principles that governed his art of
filmmaking. Also there was an
interesting anecdote involving the superstar of South Indian film world –
Rajnikanth.
Being an ardent fan of the
septuagenarian, I could fall in love with every sentence the director pronounced
in the interview. More than that, I am heartened
to know that this gentleman looks hale and hearty and appears capable of
enthralling movie buffs with some more superlative films made of his finest art.
Godspeed to Mahendran Sir!
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