prabāt

It was a good two minutes after the delicate strains of the thambura faded into my ears. Vocal chords still unable to wake from the waves of Revathi raagam and the mesmerizing voice of MS Subbulakshmi. Eyes closed in a deep trance staring into the invisible horizon. A physique frozen as though through eternity, conscious of every elongated breath being pulled in a synchrony, harmonious with the slithering tears streaming its way out of the overwhelming eyes.

A sub-conscious self, ever-wandering in search of that gift lying somewhere around the corner, but still invisible to its innocent intellect. kaanaka kaanadhi kaivalyamu… The search continues. And the conscious self spirals itself up, into an altogether different world.

A new world. A world, where the threads of emotions are twined together and dreams are woven. yetta nedutagaladi prapanchamu… A dream where emotions gather an instant fervor and hop actively inside an already brimming heart. A heart that longs to be embraced and pumps itself feverishly fuelling the search for the hitherto invisible gift. kattagatapatiti kaivalyamu…

A world, where, oscillating between the vacant realities of a daily routine and cheery visions of filling the growing vacuum, is a dream. kuticedannamu shoka cuttedidi… natu mantrapu pani natakamu… A dream twined by threads of hope. A hope born to the painful learnings of battered emotions. Emotions battered by the vigor of time. tekadu papamu tiradu punyamu…naki naki kalamu natakamu…

A world, where emotions are battered and slender, but still cling with an indomitable might to the sole panacea leading its way to the gift – Hope. They continue to hold on. Come a gust of heavy wind or a treacherous flood. Come a seething pain or a drowning pang. They continue doing their little bits. They continue to hold on. They continue. vodigattu konina vubhayakarmulu…atidatinapude kaivalyamu…

A world, where a heavy pounding hardly impacts the strength of those emotions, well and truly on their way to the nostalgia of rediscovering their own self. Sailing themselves away from the world of the ordinary, finding ways to cure themselves. yevakune shri vengkateshvaru telika…gakhanamu mititi kaivalyamu… Overbearing the pangs of the world, curing themselves, by the strength of their own self. The strength to reach that ultimate gift.

The gift. Still invisible. Still elusive. But ultimately bowing to the unbelievable strength of a longing emotion. The emotion that wove the dream. The dream that finally awakes. Awakes into a heaven of bliss.

“Hello. This is Akhila. Akhilandeshwari.” The last line of the story. A culmination of an emotional journey where each of those words radiates a vibrancy of confidence, of a woman who realizes the need for a life of her own. A man of her own. She may be 45. But she’s still a woman. A woman who is still in search of an unknown emotion. A woman that is a fascinating creation of God. A bag of biological and emotional complexities bundled meticulously into a startling weave of life. The very fascination that often results in a point of contention.

Anita Nair’s Ladies Coupé, is not just the story of a 45 year old single woman going through an avalanche of emotions through the span of her life, but a reflection on the subtle and intricate but powerful emotions that women undergo as they play a multitude of roles starting from being a kid, to a wife, to a mother. A telling narrative of the thought process of a woman when she is a kid, the puzzling emotions of puberty, the first yearning for a man’s presence, the intricate mix of love, lust and fear when she lets her man beyond intimacy levels, the bipolar role of a wife pleasing her husband and a mother responsible to her child, and the factor called family to go with all of this.

The story revolves around five persons with varied life and backgrounds, but bound by the common thread of being a woman. And their stories, sends Akhila ruminating about her own life, the decisions she made and would be making. Janaki, an elderly lady, the typical Indian wife, whose man was decided by her parents, who is confused to understand that though she hasn’t even spoken to the man until their first night, it’s suddenly ok even if he undresses her and that as her aunties said, it was the solemn duty of every woman to please their husband and keep shut to whatever he does. From a wife to a mother to a grandmother, Janaki’s life and actions revolves around the necessitated care of her husband.

Margaret Shanti, who pendulums between a blinded love for her man despite his self-gratified outlook on her, be it her cooking food for him or ordering to abort their offspring, to being the woman who tames him to her whims. Margaret may not be an example of a typical woman in an Indian household, but she does depict an image of those women with emotions and desires concealed for gratifying a dictating husband.

Prabha Devi, a bit in the mould of Lakshmi (played by Shobana) in Mitr-My friend. A rich family, understanding husband and life could never be better. But as things move into its weary routines it becomes hard for her to accept that life is just moving past her with her husband controlling its direction whether she liked the turn or not. This is my mother-in-law…this is the woman whose son now rules my destiny and dreams. My thoughts have been reduced to whether I should cook rice or chappathis for lunch, fry okras or aubergine; load the washing machine with cotton whites or cotton colored. And so much as Lakshmi does, she manages to bring out the energy within her.

With Sheela and Marikolanthu, there seemed to be a touch of disconnection with the closed quarters of family-oriented emotions digressing between a kid’s mind to a molestation to lesbianism. But, even if it means one may not be able to identify themselves much, its womanish emotions all along.

All the while, Akhila listens to them and contemplates on her own life. A girl loaded with the responsibility of being the man of her house after she loses her dad. A family that assumes her to think and act and be just as responsible for everything as a man. Only that, she’s still young and she’s a woman. A woman who could only wonder all her life if her family ever worried of her need for having a life of her own. The eventual transformation that Akhila, now 45, undergoes ultimately making herself up to spend the rest of her life living for her own sake with a man of her own, forms the crux of this emotional roller-coaster.

Any woman would identify herself with the exposition of emotions that Anita Nair has portrayed, and as for men, a lesson or two on how to understand and behave with your woman. Ladies Coupé, is a meal sans appetizers and desserts and garnishing, but does more than enough to satiate a hunger.