The Taste of Rajinikanth

Basha might have been the first Rajini movie I ever watched. It took me almost an entire evening and most of the night to finish it, thanks to the endless TV ads that popped up every few minutes. They were annoying enough that Amma gave up on the film much earlier. Rajinikanth movies, if I remember correctly, used to be a Diwali exclusive on Sun TV. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say I often preferred watching him on screen to bursting firecrackers with my family! My vocabulary back then wasn’t rich enough to know words like swag, but I was already hooked on his presence.

For someone who smirked at others’ film reviews and proudly declared himself a critic even as a child, I always suspended judgment when it came to Rajini. His larger-than-life aura and thunderous dialogues silenced the nitpicker in me—I’d just sit back, wide-eyed, pestering my cousin to translate the Tamil lines I didn’t understand.

Watching a movie is a personal experience, much like enjoying food—don’t let others’ opinions ruin it. Taste buds differ. I still remember queuing up to buy Hyderabadi biriyani from a “highly recommended” hotel during my college tour, only to realise it was nowhere close to the chicken biriyani (sans egg!) that Supreme Bakers back home in Kollam served.

Of course, there were a few Rajini films I couldn’t last through, but long story short—now that I’ve started living a solitary life in Cardiff (thanks to training-related hospital rotations), watching yet another Rajini movie, first day first show, brought back a flood of childhood memories. Clichés and plot holes aside—critics may devour Coolie—Rajinikanth was a feast to watch on the big screen. That said, films like Petta, Jailer, and Kaala were far more fulfilling for me as a fan boy.

Movies, like biriyani, are best judged by your own palate—and Rajini, to me, has always been that unbeatable Supreme Bakers’ chicken biriyani.