insatiably insane

English Vinglish—a much needed reminder

The people we love the most are often the ones we learn to overlook.

English Vinglish is the kind of movie that hooks you right from the beginning. You know, one of those movies where it shows you a glimpse of what it's going to be about, and makes you swallow a lump in your throat.

As kids, we used to think our parents were the smartest people in the world. They taught us how to read, write, and dress ourselves. We asked them a million questions and somehow, they always knew the answer, even to the most inane things like "Why is the sky blue? Why does it turn black at night? Why do I have to sleep?" and more endless whys.

Then we grow up, go to school, meet new people, travel, and suddenly we start acting all superior to our parents without even realizing that we are hurting their feelings.

The same goes for our partners—in the beginning you see them as the most amazing interesting person and over time you take this amazingness for granted. You don't stop to compliment them, ask about their dreams, their goals. You stop making an effort without even realizing it. Until the sparks die and you wonder where it went wrong.

In Shashi's case, her husband kept telling her, "You're so good at making ladoos. You were born to make ladoos." Which to him was a compliment he's giving to Shashi but what he failed to notice is that the compliment started to feel like a label—a limiting label—to Shashi. It became like a shadow following her everywhere she went.

They viewed her talent of cooking only as a required skill for a married woman with children, not as an asset that could potentially open up opportunities for her. That's why in that scene where her husband asked her to stop selling her ladoos, you can see that Shashi's window to a dream was shattered.

Not only that, her daughter also shared the same view as her father. The daughter expressed that she was embarrassed because of Shashi, belittled her multiple times and dismissed that she would not understand what she was saying.

Her husband's lack of care and enthusiasm towards her, coupled with her teenage daughter's rebellion and disrespect for her has broken down Shashi's self-esteem.

Shashi's story isn't so unfamiliar, that's why it probably hits hard.

I admit, there's more than one occasion where I have acted the same way to my parents. Maybe that's why this film had a grasp on me. It was like a mirror towards my thoughtless actions.

I really used to believe that my parents were the smartest people I knew, especially my mom. She used to teach me English. She would read my essays and tell me where I got my spelling and grammar wrong. She was very patient with me as I learned how to navigate my letters and my words. I was so impressed by her letter-writing skills when she wrote me excuse letters to the school. Her grammar was impeccable, her handwriting beautiful, as compared to my classmates' parents.

One day, I found her stack of old things stuffed in a box at the back of our shelf. I saw photo albums, some books, concert tickets, posters, and most surprisingly, notebooks with her poems. I read it and came running to her and asked what it was. She told me she wrote those poems—some existing poems that she loved and wrote down, some she wrote on her own. I was so impressed and inspired that I brought that notebook to class and showed my friends.

After that, I think I started to love English more (and I already loved English.) It felt to me that the more I learn and get good at it, the more I can be connected with my mom.

Then years passed, my teenage hot-headedness came, and I started being mean to her. I stopped thinking of her as the smartest person because I've already met smarter people. I grew less impressed by what she used to love, that I didn't even bother asking her about it again.

And as I grew older and got to know her more, the dynamics have shifted, as the old saying goes "familiarity breeds contempt."

I think the same befell Shashi and her family. They all got too familiar and comfortable with their labels and roles that they forgot people are multifaceted.

Shashi's speech at the wedding really moved me and encapsulates the heart of a lot of people:

Shashi Godbole: This marriage is a beautiful thing. It is the most special friendship. Friendship of two people who are equal. Life is a long journey. Meera, sometimes you will feel you are less. Kevin, sometimes you will also feel you are less than Meera. Try to help each other to feel equal. It will be nice. Sometimes... Married couple don't even know how the other is feeling. So... how they will help the other? It means marriage is finished? No. That is the time you have to help yourself. Nobody can help you better than you. If you do that... you will return back feeling equal. Your friendship will return back... Your life will be beautiful.

Meera... Kevin... Maybe you'll very busy... but have family... son... daughter. In this big world... your small little world, it will make you feel so good. Family... family can never be... never be... never be judgemental! Family will never... put you down... will never make you feel small. Family is the only one who will never laugh at your weaknesses. Family is the only place where you will always get love and respect. That's all Meera and Kevin... I wish you all the best. Thank you.

This speech was the full embodiment of the film and its message.

Family—mother, father, children, siblings, and your partner—should be the last person to judge you. But oftentimes it is the opposite. We developed such comfort with these people around us that we don't even stop to think and empathize with them as we do with other people, or even strangers.

Respect goes a long way. Our parents probably realized their kids have outgrown or outsmarted them but it shouldn't be a reason for us to look down on them. And as Shashi said in her speech, even couples feel less than the other from time to time, but what's important is you acknowledge that and still treat each other with respect.

And the last and probably the most powerful message of the film was Shashi's goodbye to Laurent:

Shashi Godbole: When you don't like yourself... you tend to dislike everything connected to you. New things seem to be more attractive. When you learn to love yourself... then the same old life... starts looking new... starts looking nice. Thank you... for teaching me... how to love myself! Thank you for making me... feel good about myself. Thank you so much!

As cliche as it sounds, it really starts from loving yourself and feeling good about yourself and everything follows. This film was a good and much needed reminder of that.

I didn't expect a film to make me think about the way I've been seeing the people closest to me. But maybe that's exactly why it stayed with me.

Now I can say all the effort spent trying to find a copy of this movie with good English subtitles is well worth it!