A man wants to be the only man in the household. Given the singular nature, some adjustments are necessary to prevent men from killing each other in their quest to be “the man”. Thus evolved packs which further evolved to nuclear families as we know it today. The smart people of the Tamizh land further devised a plan to address possible flashpoints. They devised customs that mandated a man to never eat a meal in his son-in-law’s house and to never sleep more than two nights at a stretch in his father-in-law’s place.
The problem cannot be fixed but only worked around, imperfectly. In recent years, the increased empathy the father shows for the daughter and plummeting telecommunication costs have been cause for much alarm. The twice-weekly phone calls seem to discharge an inordinate flux of sentiments between the daughter and the father. To what end? The expansive conversations on health, sibling’s prospective matches, husband’s job stability and general future plans and the advices offered and received thereof create uncomfortable levels of testosterone. What is a man to do when his wife goes “enga appa idha sonnar.. adha sonnar”?
The imperatives of living two oceans across and gene propagation give an excuse for the wife’s parents to spend the summer months in the cooler climes of the son-in-law’s house. At the insistense of the wife, the man shares his cologne and after shave with his father-in-law and takes him out for t-shirt shopping. The father-in-law repays him in kind by changing channels when he is watching his favorite sitcom.
The simmering tension feels like an Islamic bomb about to explode in an Israeli elementary school.
Screenplay by I.