Oral Mathram

In the tranquil hills of a remote Kerala village, Shekhara Menon has swapped the bustle of Mumbai for a modest homestead that rests on a patch of his own land. A retired income‑tax officer, he spends his days tending to the fields and caring for his three daughters and aging father, savoring a rhythm that feels like a long‑awaited retirement. Yet even in this seemingly simple life, the unexpected hiccup of a blocked pension casts a quiet shadow, hinting that the serenity he cherishes may be more fragile than it appears.

Next door, the adjoining cottage is occupied by Hareendran, a small‑time contractor whose ambitions are as modest as the rented room he calls home. Struggling to keep his projects afloat, he balances the pressures of work with a restless desire to move on from the house that has become both shelter and a source of inconvenience. His relationship with his loyal aide, Mathews, adds a layer of camaraderie and occasional friction, suggesting that personal ties often shape one’s choices as much as circumstance.

The village itself breathes with a slow, earthy pulse—lush fields, winding paths, and the distant hum of a community that knows each other by name. Within this setting, the juxtaposition of Menon’s seasoned, measured demeanor against Hareendran’s jittery, opportunistic energy creates a subtle tension that fuels the everyday interactions. Their converging lives hint at an unspoken negotiation between duty and self‑interest, stability and aspiration.

As the days unfold, the film quietly explores themes of responsibility, belonging, and the fragile balance between contentment and the restless drive to improve one’s fortunes. The atmosphere remains gentle yet charged, inviting the audience to wonder how these contrasting worlds will intersect and what the quiet village will reveal about the characters who call it home.

Last Updated: August 20, 2025 at 17:46