The year was 1957, and I was 10 years old. I ended up listening to this song every day. It blared outside Vaani Sound Service, a shop that rented out loudspeakers at Theppakulam Maidanam in Coimbatore where I grew up.
When I learned that ‘Kalyana Samayal Sadham’ was from a movie called Mayabazar , I pestered my parents to take me to see it.
It was playing at Royal Theatre, one of the biggest theatres in Coimbatore then. And so, my parents, my brother and I travelled on a horse-drawn cart to the theatre.
SV Ranga Rao in a still from the film ‘Mayabazar’
As a child, I was fascinated by SV Ranga Rao. He played the giant Ghatotkacha from the Mahabharata and I can never forget the scenes in which he wolfs down plate after plate of food at a wedding.
He swallows ladoos that automatically float into his open mouth from a platter. To think that the movie had special effects at a time when such technology was actually unheard of.
In the climax, Ghatotkacha enters Savitri’s body and she walks like him with heavy strides. I watched the scene open-mouthed — what fantastic acting. The entire theatre was on fire.
The comedy, the love-angle between Gemini Ganesan and Savitri... I’m 72 years old now and the Mayabazar experience is still fresh in my memory. I remember munching on delicious murukku and coconut barfi as I enjoyed the movie.
Men sold snacks and soda on trays inside the dark interiors of the cinema that was lit by occasional bursts of light from the screen.
A still from ‘Mayabazar’
I particularly admired the villain Nambiar. Perhaps the crime writer in me was taking shape even then — I enjoyed his chilling dialogue delivery, the way he rubbed his palms together when he plotted something dark. I recently watched the digitally remastered colour version of the movie on YouTube and the memories all came rushing back.
My other favourites include Puthiya Paravai (1964) and Athey Kangal (1967). I watched them during my college days. Puthiya Paravai had great songs, and an ingenious story. When I think of such movies, I can’t help but wonder why they don’t make such films any more. Those years were pure gold.
(As told to Akila Kannadasan)
