PF Mathews dips his pen far into the soul of Kochi; exploring its nooks and crannies left untouched by writers past; soaking in its vibrant cultures, rich histories, myriad myths and best-kept secrets; bringing to life men and women with cracks in their core, their feet firm on terra firma, their lives inseparable from their land and in perpetual search for light in a world of all pervasive darkness. In Mathews’ literary universe, their ordinariness turns extraordinary, their reality surreal, even magical.
On an overcast afternoon in May, we arrive at a house paintedwhite and named Megham (Clouds) to meet the man whose works abound with love for the land and the sea, whose characters are painted in various shades of grey. Dressed in white and black, he is on the porch, wearing a warm smile.
In the quiet neighbourhood of Thrikkakara, far away from the coast, where his heart lies and where all the action of his latest work Ee Ma Yau takes place, the scriptwriter is pleasantly surprised by the rave reviews the film has been gathering.
“I had not expected this,” he says, frankly. “I had not expected ordinary people to take to the film. People who generally enjoy commercial entertainers have been calling up, saying they find the movie honest. That brings a lot of happiness. There clearly is a change in the audience culture,” notes the writer, whose debut novel ‘Chaavunilam’ had failed to find fame or acceptance when it was published in 1996.
“I was told there was so much of darkness in the novel, that it reeked of corpses and death.” That was over two decades ago. Directed by Lijo Jose Pellissery, Ee Ma Yau is centred around a funeral in a Latin Catholic household at coastal Chellanam and it is winning hearts and running to packed houses. And ‘Chaavunilam’, in its latest edition, is back in city book stores.
Death is a recurring theme in Mathews’ works. It is almost an obsession. His novels, ‘Chaavunilam’ and ‘Iruttil Oru Punnyaalan’, portray a number of deaths. The film Kutty Srank , for which he won the National Award for Best Screenplay in 2010, has a mysterious corpse in it. ‘Mikhayelinte Santhathikal’, a television serial that Mathews scripted for Doordarshan and which won the State Television Award for Best Screenplay in 1993, also has the haunting presence of death. The character Annamkutty Thaathi in ‘Iruttil Oru Punnyaalan’ observes that a person is best judged from the vantage point of death. “Without death, there would be no meaning to life,” believes Mathews. For the writer, death is not a dead end. “I do not believe that everything ends with death.”
It is from such a belief that his works borrow their touches of surrealism. “I do not like to view life in a single plane. I would like to believe that life is composed of multiple planes.” Unreal visions blend into everyday realities to create something that is beautiful. Ee Ma Yau has been lauded for its realistic portrayal of life and death, and yet surrealism seeps into the rawness of life, rendering the work of art to multiple interpretations. “If we narrate things in a single plane, then it all ends with it. There is no scope for another reading, another viewing of it.” The writer is of the view that just as life does not end with death, and leaves behind several facets unexplained, a work of art too has to leave something behind.
Mathews believes that it is such a weaving of multiple layers without the stamp of finality that made his novel ‘Chaavunilam’ acceptable to an entirely new generation of readers.
Death also becomes a celebration of sorts in Ee Ma Yau – complete with Kannokku songs and band music. It is as it happens at Chellanam even today, says the scriptwriter. There is wailing, Kannokku recital, drama just before the funeral, even a tussle for the corpse. An entire night of wake is observed, the mourners keep wailing, and then after the funeral they take a short rest. They wake up later and the customary rice gruel ( pashni kanji ) is served. They start praising the taste of the dishes served along with the gruel, and they have already forgotten the dead. “That is what is special about the crying, it cleanses the heart.”
Mathews says Pauly Valsan’s Kannokku recital, which has won much popularity and praise, was just right, and true to reality. She won the State Award for Best Character Actor this year for her performance in Ee Ma Yau and Ottamuri Velicham .
Times have changed, and yet lives have not, observes Mathews. In Chellanam, the cultural ethos has remained the same, as have poverty and people’s inability to climb up the social ladder. They may wield smartphones, but that has not changed their everyday realities, says the writer. So, the lower castes, the darker-skinned, continue to remain in their pitiable state, inhabiting the fringes of a burgeoning metropolis or areas far removed from the mainland. Ee Ma Yau has trained the spotlight on their lives.
“It is also a political film, it deals with a number of socio-political issues,” says Mathews. “ The politics of black bodyscapes.” Malayalam cinema, the writer says, had long erased the minorities from its narratives. “It is only now that the stories of Muslims, Dalits and other backward classes are being told, and finding acceptance.” He finds the changes heartening. “There are a number of new filmmakers like Lijo, Dileesh Pothan, Aashiq Abu and Anwar Rasheed, who offer hope for Malayalam cinema. I am certain that they will make good movies.”
Of Kochi
The Kochi dialect, to which Mathews’ literary works have remained faithful to, also seems to have found favour. “This dialect of the coastal region used to be the language of the whole of Kochi. It was then lost in the process of urbanisation,” he says. “Language is often the first casualty.”
Just like cinema and culture, the city too has undergone a sea change. The writer has been witness to it all. He accepts that change is inevitable, and does not hold on to romantic whims of his city remaining forever tied to its rural moorings. “But, I have always felt that Kochi’s growth falls far short of what the city actually deserved. This was not what Kochi was supposed to have ended up as.”
Mathews’ love for the city is what spills out from each of his literary works, and he makes no effort to hide it. “Kochi is both my shell and my core. I do not have an existence removed from it. Wherever I may go to, it is to Kochi that I must return.” Urbanisation, though inescapable, has not been kind to his city, he feels. “The signs of its rich history and heritage were what we first tried to wipe away. And just look at the buildings these days!”
A changing Kochi continues to inspire the writer – he gathers its histories and myths from its people, and sometimes moulds characters lovingly from those he finds around him. Mathews, who retired from government service two years ago, is now fully focused on his writing. The next should be a novel, he says, but he is yet to begin working on it. The writer of short stories, films and television serials says he is a novelist first and foremost. “It is as a novelist that I derive the most satisfaction,” he says. “My biggest dream is to write a great novel. I am not sure if it will happen. But one can always harbour hope.”
For this storyteller of Kochi, the stories never end.
