As writer-director Anjali Menon’s Malayalam feature Koode celebrates its fifth anniversary, I can’t help but thank the crew for making me feel seen, for giving me a piece of cinema that mirrors my life. Koode’s Joshua (played by Prithviraj) is so close to my heart that I knew I must pen this down despite the many thoughts before deciding to. Joshua’s grief – the mourning of a brother who lost his sibling – his breakdowns, and his realisations reminded me of myself – a 20-something-year-old girl who suddenly was robbed of her brother, her biggest support system, cheerleader, and whatnot. I too was angry because he left me. I too couldn't grieve for a long period, and Joshua told me it was okay to take my time. So here’s me, in my late twenties, trying to knit my incoherent thoughts on battling personal loss, and healing the way Joshua taught me.
Koode opens with Joshua attending a call from his father, who informs him of his sister Jenny’s (played by Nazriya Nazim) demise. Joshua doesn't shed a tear. He is not seen tearing up at her funeral either. Strange, you’d think, but does grief come with a window? No. Almost 8 years ago, I remember hearing about my brother passing away from a relative who murmured, “Mole, he is gone,” in my ears. I remember falling on the road because I travelled for almost 10 hours with my parents hoping that he was hospitalised and that we could still get him back. But, we were lied to. He was gone already.
There are multiple instances in the film that look like my own personal memoir. For instance, whenever the song ‘Minnaminni’ played, I never had it in me to hold back my tears because I’ve grown up hearing those heartening anecdotes of my chettan (big brother) cradling me in his arms. In a heart-touching scene where Brownie the dog barges into Jenny’s room where Joshua now sleeps, all I could think of was Bruno (our pet dog) joyously jumping on any tall man who would visit him. The poor thing always got disappointed, once he took a sniff. In a way, Jenny’s ‘Cha’ is a bit more of my chettan as well. Just like how Joshua was forced to sacrifice his childhood once Jenny fell ill, my chettan was also the elder child who was robbed of the colors of his youth, matured way before his age, and the one who had to make compromises for the happiness of the younger one.
Another heartbreaking scene that both pierces and heals me from within is the one where Joshua enters Jenny’s room, the place where she spent her last days. It took me back to the day I was adamant about going to the flat where chettan lived, to pick up his belongings just three days after his passing. I did not want anyone to touch anything that belonged to him. I was the possessive sister who wanted his memories all to herself because she knew everyone else would forget him in a couple of days. When Joshua asks his mother about Jenny’s unfulfilled wishes, she replies that Jenny was hardly 20, an age where she probably had a thousand dreams and wishes. The melancholy of this dialogue rips me up every time I think of my chettan and his dreams for himself and me. Did he know that he wouldn't live long enough to make them happen? What might have gone through his mind when he realised he may not see another day? More than my own, it is his unfulfilled wishes that break me to this day.
The tea-stall conversation between Jenny and Joshua is probably my favourite from the film. For the first time, Joshua opens up about his insecurities and bottled emotions – his displeasure at being the 'taken for granted' one, the frustration of losing out on a million things while ensuring his sister gets to enjoy all of it, the sexual abuse he had to endure, and a lot more. I felt seen in Joshua’s anger, in his misery. I felt seen when Joshua was miffed at his sister for leaving him and making all his sacrifices go in vain. You know, it’s very hard to be the only surviving child of your parents, to two-up and fill in the shoes of an endearing lost child, and I know I can never.
After this conversation, Joshua goes back to Jenny’s room. He tearfully notices that everything she treasured had her brother in them. He was the main character of all her memories. Prithviraj Sukumaran and Anjali Menon deserve a lot of flowers for this scene alone, for how real it was, and for how devastatingly it blurred reality and fiction. There are a lot more parallels between Jenny’s and my chettan’s life. Her short-lived romance is yet another one. When Jenny nudges Joshua and encourages him to face all his odds and fight for his childhood sweetheart, I realised I have truly lost the one who stood by me like a rock. It took time to convince myself that I no longer have a constant, someone, to complain about my broken relationships to, and I no longer have an arm to pull me up from my pitfalls. I no longer have the loudest voice in the room, cheering for me. He always knew when I needed him. He somehow just knew and I regret not being there for him when he needed me the most.
Joshua tells Jenny that their parents still search for their shadow in every brother-sister duo they see. I know that even today my parents look at little kids walking hand in hand with a sense of loss, a sense of happiness taken away too soon. As Joshua refuses to believe that Jenny is truly gone, as he faces his biggest battle - the battle of acceptance, the battle he was running away from, I still find myself in the middle of nowhere, unwilling to fight my fight. It took me over three years to believe that I lost him. It's been over eight years now and a part of my heart still believes that he is at his workplace and would return any day, and I would see my parents smiling from their hearts again..and our family would be happy once again.
Koode affirms that grief is very personal – an invisible emotion that comes with no window period or expiry date, an emotion that no one understands unless experienced, an emotion that aches and shakes from within and grows in time. Outgrowing grief is hard because when someone dies, a part of your life with them dies too. Eight years, and I am still grieving. I still am possessive of my brother’s memories and belongings like Joshua is.
Was Jenny actually ‘the supernatural’ presence only Joshua could see? If she transcended down to give her Cha the closure he sought, will my chettan come to me too? I am seeking answers and till today, I haven't got any. All he ever wanted from life was to lead a happy life with his beloved, earn enough to fulfill his sister’s dreams, and to keep his parents happy. I hope he’s resting now. I hope he knows his sister is strong enough to fight her battles. I miss him every day. I hope to live for him the way he would have lived his life.
Anjali is a full-time movie-enthusiast & part-time brand strategist passionate about Asian cinema and shows. When she isn't watching a movie or series, you'd find her talking about them.