[image error]                            When Avrahaam Yaakob tells his son, “God will be with you at the editing table, as you write. God will do the editing. You will merely be his instrument”, it is as if God was really there with my friend Anup Narayanan as he wrote the script for ‘The 137 Auditions of Avrahaam Yaakob’. Guiding his hand lovingly, making slight corrections here and there, replacing that word with another one more apt, erasing that sentence which didn’t quite belong there. Writing, I’ve always felt, is a painful process. But just as any act of love, even the greatest pain feels like colossal joy. And in the moment held by a pause, just as in writing, a lot is said. Beyond the ability of even the most articulate scriptwriter or the most attentive reader to fathom. It is best left unexplained.

                                As I watched this movie by the windowsill of my room, the wind was raging outside, and the rain poured down angrily on the tired earth. And in all that mayhem, my one-year old son lay asleep calm and completely unaware of the storms raging outside and inside. My heart sank as the young boy who would later be known as Avner, watches helplessly as the kind man drops him back at the orphanage. My blood boiled and I clenched my teeth unknowingly as I watched Avrahaam play (rather, live) the character of a father who harbours lust for his daughter. My soul rose in elation as Hari and Fatima discover their naked souls, unable to take their eyes off such beauty. And just as my soul flapped its wings to fly, it came crashing down as Avner bore thrashing after thrashing just for safeguarding his friends’ secret. When the light shone on Avner’s face the day he got his name, the little boy’s expressionless eyes held so much hope. Hope that was not seen before. Avner’s graceful acceptance of whatever came his way, the way he submitted to everything with a simple ‘Never mind’ broke my heart time and again, in a manner so subtle that it didn’t feel like a heartbreak at all. As Jyothi and Avner embark on a journey to see off Avner’s deceased father, not a word is spoken between them. But so much is said. So many miles traversed. So many memories handpicked, softly dusted and lovingly embraced before putting them back on that shelf we preserve in our hearts. Jyothi does a commendable job of being the best friend Avner could have asked for in that moment. She silently lends her shoulder for him to gather himself and pick up his broken pieces to go where he needs to go. And as the sky cries along with all of our hearts, there is an unseen rainbow as Jyothi demands Avner to come and offer Kaddish, the revered Jewish prayer offered for a loved bereaved soul, for his father. It struck me that she demanded him to do so, without gently sitting back to let him mourn the way he wished to. It struck me that for the meek girl she seemed to be, it might probably have taken a good amount of courage to open her umbrella and demand him to join her. Or maybe it didn’t. Maybe it was God’s hand and she was merely an instrument. 

          The story also left me with a lot of unanswered questions. Why would Jyothi, a complete stranger to Avner join him on his journey? In many ways she is the real hero. Going all the way risking her life knowing how dangerous the world could be, especially for a woman. Why did Avner move out of his home after bearing the brunt of safeguarding his friends’ whereabouts? Wasn’t home the safest place he knew? Why did he move in with Nandhan, his father’s friend? I guess it makes most sense to let certain things go, without probing too much. Does one count the number of petals or calculate the angles between them when one sees the perfect rose? Surrendering to its perfection and accepting its many mysteries is the only way one understands its glory. 

                 I feel elated and extremely grateful to Anup for sharing his work of love for me to sit back and relish every moment. Not a frame is extra, and not a frame is missing. It’s perfect the way it is. For an artist’s first feature film, it is extraordinarily brilliant. Be it the non-linear narrative, the humanness in the characters, or the remarkable work displayed by each of the artists. In the scantness of words, I found an entire world. A world inhabited by men and women, much like us, dreaming their dreams and holding on to their hopes. A salute to you, Anup. You’ll have a pretty high benchmark to rise above, in all your future works, which I am definite you will. Looking forward to see your next masterpiece.