KPAC, the name is enough

I don’t know much about KPAC Lalitha except what I have read in the newspapers. 

I haven’t met her or spoken to her over the phone.

I don’t how she prepares for the roles she plays or the process she follows.

What I know is that what we get to see on the screen is brilliantly natural. So natural it seems it’s all happening in front of us in flesh and blood.

The tears, the laughter, the smirk, the mannerisms, everything looks so real.

As I mentioned, I don’t know much about KPAC. Then why should I write about her.

We grew up watching her. If we saw moms and grandmoms in Kaviyoor Ponnamma and Sukumary, KPAC was more an elder sister to us. You felt a warmth in her presence. Oh, the power of cinema!

When she died, we all felt that tinge of pain, like we lost someone close.

I don’t know much about KPAC, but how can I not say good bye to her?

Today in his tribute, Mohanlal mentions KPAC’s (the mother) narration of the tragic death of the heroine’s father at her own hands in the film Sanmanassullavarku Samadhanam. While we ordinary film lovers don’t know the trickery filmmakers play with flashbacks, what we know is we listened to KPAC living that moment, some in tears.

KPAC was a unique talent. If Sachin Tendulkar could play any delivery 10 different ways, KPAC could play the same role in a hundred different ways. That is why we never got bored with her.

If the best actor award went to the best actor instead of best heroes and heroines, KPAC would have won it every year, year after year.

That would seem a little exaggerated, but you get the drift.

Athu thanne.