How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

My mother says that she knew I would grow up to be a movie buff when I was 3.

During that summer all my aunts and cousins had come down to Mysore, like most summers.
It was an eclectic bunch of 4 pucca Indian kids, 2 Indian kids growing up in America who liked most things Indian and were curious about the yearly 'Indian Experience' and 2 Indian kids growing up in America who were too young to bother about any experience and were grumpy all day long because the toilets didn't have paper here, there were huge mosquitoes that gave them red red rashes here and you could sometimes catch cockroaches in the bathrooms here - though the boy in this couple was supremely excited with this one item.
I was the youngest in the group and eternally left out because none of the other 8 ranging from 6-15 had the patience for a 3 year old. So, while they entertained themselves and didn't need much parental supervision, I was always cast off with no one to play with and bundled along with the adults. (2 years later when I had my brother, I promptly ditched him to be with the 'cooler' older cousins.)

On one such hot afternoon when my mother and all the aunts were bored, the youngest aunt realised that the latest Puttanna Kanagal movie had just released and was playing in Ganesha Talkies, which was 1 minute away from my house. Ours is a movie loving family and a Puttanna Kanagal movie could not be missed. The 3 mothers decided that the movie experience would be irrevocably ruined if their respective kids tagged along and after a long list of Dos and Dont's and elaborate assignment of which elder cousin would be responsible for which younger one and a promise of a sweet dish for dinner if all behaved, the stage was set to lock up the kids in house for the next 3 hours.

My mother had no such option and was forced to take me with her.
She made sure that I was not hungry and had peed and had 3 sips of water and was in my most comfortable dress - all she could possibly think to do to prevent me from suddenly start bawling in the theater. They all decided that if that situation did arise, my mother would have to pay the price for having a 3 year old and walk back home with me, missing the rest of the movie.

They all set off to the theater, got the tickets and took their seats. Till then I was impeccably behaved. But they all knew that once the lights go out, kids usually get scared and since the movie doesn't make any sense to them they start getting fidgety and in 5 minutes full blown crying starts.
Ads and the news started (they used to show a short News segment before the movie in those days!) and I still was behaving. My mother checked to see if I had slept off in the short span and I hadn't. Once the credits started rolling and the theater got completely dark, my mother was almost at the edge of her seat, ready to pick me and go out any time now. But I was still quite and occupied with the things moving on screen. Of course, I didn't understand what Kalpana (yesteryear Kannada actress) was talking or doing. My mother gave me 5 more minutes; after all how much longer can a 3 year old's concentration last?

But then, legend has it, that this particular 3 year old didn't utter one Aah or Ooh during the entire 3 hours, didn't get thirsty or hungry or pee-y. I did sleep through most of the movie, but during the waking parts, I was completely glued to the big screen, looking at it, even asking my mother questions about the movie. (This definitely is my mother's exaggeration! She says I danced when Kalpana danced, got sad when she cried and was inconsolable when she died. I of course refuse to believe that. But every parent should be forgiven when they launch into a little bit of hyperbole when it comes to their child. Usually parents over-hype their kid's academic or sports conquests. But my mother, due to lack of such achievements to talk about, always tells any one who listens about how I completely followed the plot and even understood the subtle sub texts of a Puttanna Kanagal movie when barely 3!)

After the movie, while going out there was much talk about how unnatural this occurrence was and how kids always start crying right after the theater goes dark.
Then my mother, with a little huff cocked her head and with unmaskable pride in her voice said, "Who knows, maybe this one will grow up to be a genuine movie lover, and maybe even do something related to movies."
And the 3 aunts could only nod in approval, because just then I had displayed prodigy-level talents in movie appreciation!
(You can make out the extent to which my family was movie crazy. If typical South Indian housewives are excited about the thought that their daughters might be in the movies (no no, not as actors, directors/writers/technicians anything else would do!), it had to be a film loving family.)

So, maybe it was my genes or the house I grew up in or the confluence of both, I at least fulfilled one of my childhood promises, I did grow up to be a movie buff.

Needless to say, I don't remember a thing about the urban legend-like event my mother and aunts recount to this day. My earliest movie experiences are the weekly ones I saw on Doordarshan and the cassettes we rented. We used to rent almost half the video library and a VCP when my father and his sisters (the 3 aunts above) got together during summers. I remember watching movies late into nights since the movie watching would start only after all kids went to bed.

And my 'parallel cinema' education was taken up by Doordarshan.
Every Sunday night DD showed an award winning regional movie. (Did you know that the order of telecasting these movies was alphabetically determined by their languages?!)
I would always stay up to see that, sitting on the sofa closest to the TV and trying my best to read the sub titles as fast as I could. Sometimes my father helped me by asking me to just watch the images while he read out the subtitles. And the joy when it was a Kannada or Hindi movie that was telecast during that slot, I didn't have to read the subtitles!
(I have to credit my initial Hindi knowledge to years and years of watching everything that was telecast on Doordarshan. We did study Hindi as a 3rd language in school from 6th standard, but by then I was completely fluent in the language and had to learn only the script.)

So, it is natural that I sometimes get existential doubts like why is it that I actually like movies so much? What kind do I like best and why?
The second is easier to tackle.
I am not a movie snob.
By that I mean, on an average I like more movies than I dislike.
I am mostly generous in my reviews and even in the bad ones seek elements that are nice.
I like most genres, Drama being my favorite, Mindless Action being the least favored.

I like when movies have a human element to them.
So, I enjoy an action movie when it at least bothers to have even a half baked back-story to it, the nicely made ones are always a delight to watch.
(I try arguing this point in relation to porn with my guy friends, about how I would think they require at least a semblance of a story to plug in the porn - maybe the reason we have erotica in addition to hardcore porn - but of course they see this argument as being utterly ridiculous.)

In the same token, I like science fiction with a dash of humanity.
Movies where we debate the direction of AI and have machines developing 'human' traits melt my heart!
I think you get where I am going - anything with a little something that I can relate to emotionally. And I think movies generally get made that way.
I can't think of any particular genre I would not pick up outright.

It's harder to pinpoint why I like movies.
The usual argument for this is that you can lose yourself in a different world for 3 hours. Its an alternate existence, you vicariously live your dreams, you can root for the underdog and he usually wins, you see evil readily defeated, you see love requited - you see your joys reflected and for your unfulfilled fantasies you find a vicarious fulfillment.
If you need an escape when your own life gets too much to handle, even if its only for a few hours, the dark movie hall where someone else’s story plays out and all you have to do is react seems like the perfect place to head to.
In the darker, more pathos filled movies - you maybe happy you are not the one going though it, sometimes there is a slightly sick feeling of even contentment that your life is better than those shown on screen (schadenfreude?)
And when during our routine lives corruption is rife, the ‘system’ never works, everyone tries to mooch off of you and life, irrespective of who you are and what you do, sometimes hits you so hard that you fall down defeated at sundown, it is unadulterated pleasure to see an Amitabh single handedly take on the system or a Russell Crowe stand up to the Emperor or an Iqbal get into the Indian team.
It’s where we go to get our daily dose of ‘Life’s all right, after all’ from.

And then there are those who see a movie for just what it is - a movie - a diversion, an interesting excursion, nothing more, nothing less.

I don't try too hard to relate to movies or characters, but they are not pointless diversions either.
I am mostly happy with my life and hence they are not escapist fare for me.
But yes, sometimes I am slightly happy that my fictional husband has not yet cheated on me and my fictional in-laws are not trying to burn me after pouring kerosene on me and my fictional kids don’t hate my guts – all that seems to be happening to that hapless character up there!
I think the basic reason I love movies is the one that pretty much defines me most of the times - Curiosity!
You see, the CuriousCat is curious to see how different people react to situations, what prompted them to do so, extrapolate by placing yourself in the same position, analysing your reactions versus the character’s, seeing what makes different people tick, seeing different samples of what the heart can feel.
It’s like taking a thin cross section of life that is not your own, mounting it on a slide, and peering in to look at it more closely through the microscope’s eyepiece.
During this process somewhere along the line I fell in love with movies - of all kinds, languages and genres.
And thankfully, unlike my other rather tragic attempts (some would call them non-attempts) at love, this love story was requited!
The movies speak to me in a language that’s our little secret and I seem to understand them. I get them.
I come out of a good movie feeling warm inside, mind busy trying to rationalize. And in a weird way, it feels that they get me too.

And wouldn't we all women be satisfied if our lovers just truly got us?!
Well then, I seem to have found the perfect lover!

PS: Read the poem – How do I love thee? Let me count the ways after which the post is titled, if you haven’t already.