Why I now watch Malayalam films with subtitles

I am embarrassed at my cultural oversights. They seem to me a manifestation of a disloyalty of sorts - as if I am incurious about my Indian roots.

On a Sunday afternoon in 2012, I tried to watch the 'critically acclaimed' Punjabi film Anhe Ghore Da Daan (Alms to a Blind Horse) at a screening in Delhi, at Siri Fort Auditorium. Either the print was bad or the film was shot in dim light or the plot was too sleepy. maybe I was too impatient and tired and couldn't follow the Punjabi. Whatever the reason, my former colleague and I walked out. So much for culture - or loyalty to one's Punjabi roots.
Since then, most Indian movies I have watched have been in Hindi, partly because of my one high-horse assumption that subtitles of regional cinema are quite awful. 'Bye-bye, syntax; bye-bye, nuance' sort of a thing.
Circa 2018. Over the weekend, a colleague invited some people over for a movie marathon at her place. The plan was to start at noon and work our way through a Tamil, Malayalam and Bengali film: OK, Kanmani (Tamil), Iti Mrinalini (Bengali), Bangalore Days (Malayalam).
OK, Kanmani was alright. A little too conflict-free for my taste, but I was happy to have been introduced to the actor Dulquer Salmaan (good actor, nice voice!). It was a reminder also to immerse myself in Mani Ratnam's earlier work, in the languages he filmed those movies in. But again, my main problem with the movie: the subtitles. The quality seemed fine, but that eight second lag.
I couldn't stay for the final movie,  Bangalore Days, as I had to make it in time for the Hindi film  Karwaan. Maybe if I hadn't already booked tickets, I might have stayed for  Bangalore Days. I'm told it was the best.
As I walked out of my colleague's darkened living room-turned-cinema of the day, I realised how, by not watching enough regional Indian cinema, I had turned into one stereotype of a north Indian yuppie. Seriously. I can't remember the last Indian subtitled movie I saw after that Blind Horse fiasco. Alright, one exception: I watched the Marathi film Ventilator on a flight back to Delhi in March this year (Phew! Five points to me). But largely, I am embarrassed at my cultural oversights. They seem to me a manifestation of a disloyalty of sorts - as if I am incurious about my Indian roots. I wouldn't want this to be true, especially not for the pretentiousness it would indicate.
I watch enough foreign cinema - with subtitles. I can remember films from other countries that I have sneaked out of office early for (Asghar Farhadi's The Salesman; I was so surprised it was playing at Ibn Battuta!) I enjoy not restricting myself to the stuff churned out by Hollywood. And yet, in holding a mirror up, I couldn't escape the glaring reflection of my cultural choices, that seemed to call for some course correction.
I don't want to be the person who restricts herself to Bollywood. And yet, never in my years in Dubai had I watched a Malayalam film (before this weekend)- and they play here in cinemas all the time! I thought of reasons (excuses, rather) for this blinkered behaviour. And there's no meat there, all just inadequate, silly excuses better left off the page.
This year, on the big screen, even when it comes to Hindi films, I can remember having watched only Raazi and October. I like to not throw away money on what my gut tells me will be rubbish - even if it's in my mother tongue. But like an admonished school child, I intend to remedy my oversight by downloading or streaming Bangalore Days immediately. And by going to watch Koode this week. It's, as they say, playing at a cinema near me.
-nivriti@khaleejtimes.com