Last week, my colleagues and I went for a movie. And not just any movie — a horror one. The title? Dies Irae. Even the name sounded like a ghost whispering Latin in my ear. I’m a thriller person...give me suspense, crime, or mystery, I’m all in. But horror? No, thank you. I’m dead scared.
But then there was Bindu miss, who absolutely wanted to see
it. I tried to protest mildly, but you know how it goes......democracy at work.
Everyone agreed, so I just smiled and went along.
Now, before you think this is going to be a movie review..... let me stop you right there. It is not. I honestly do not know how to judge a
movie. After studying media, I have learned to respect the effort, money, and
sleepless nights that go into making one. So, if you ask me whether I liked a
film, my default answer is “Yes, I liked it.” (Safe and diplomatic!) Of course,
if you ask me in private, I might quietly share what I really think... but I
usually try to focus on the positives. But
publicly? Oh no, I am all positive..... just like the “all good” reviews I wrote
during my college days!
Anyway, the lights went off, the ‘silence’ started, and my
fear switched ON. Within five minutes, I was watching the movie through my ‘dupatta’.
Sometimes my ears were covered, sometimes my eyes, depending on which sense I
wanted to torture less.
My colleague, Sistu was no better. Every time something
spooky happened, we looked at each other and burst into giggles. The rest of
the theatre was dead serious — literally ‘dead’ serious, and there we were,
half-hiding, half-laughing, trying not to disturb anyone. I am honestly
surprised the theatre staff did not throw us out.
And let me tell you, it was scary! Which means the movie
did exactly what it was supposed to do. Mission accomplished. But while others
were deeply immersed in the horror, I was deeply distracted by
something else, hunger and caffeine withdrawal! ☕
Right before the movie started, I had ordered a coffee for
myself and sandwiches for my colleagues. They said, “That’s okay,” but later
admitted the sandwiches were not worth the money. And as for my coffee.....oh,
wait till you hear this.
I spotted filter coffee on the menu, and my South Indian
heart did a happy dance. Finally, something familiar! Until I noticed the price
tag — ₹180. For one filter coffee. I almost fainted before the ghost even
appeared on screen. 👻I told myself, “Maybe it
is extraordinary. Maybe it will be worth it.” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. I’d
had Costa Coffee a few times before at PVR, so I trusted the brand. But this
time, I waited the entire first half of the movie dreaming about that coffee,
only to finally get it midway through the second half.
One sip. That is all it took to shatter my caffeine dreams.
This was not filter coffee; this was filter regret.
Honestly, I could make a better cup with a ₹5 Bru sachet,
₹13 worth of milk pouch, and ₹3 sugar. For ₹180, I could’ve bought groceries
for two days or a solid lunch at a local café. I was angry, not scared anymore,
just angry. The ghost on screen did not scare me; the coffee did.
And that is when a headline I’d read came to mind , “Supreme
Court takes note of high food prices at multiplexes.” They warned that steep
snack prices could alienate audiences and hurt the cinema business. Well, Your
Honour, I second that motion. 👩⚖️
Let’s be honest, paying more for a coffee than for your
ticket is not just absurd. What kind of
logic is that? For that price, I expect my filter coffee to come with a
personal barista and background violin music.
And it is not just coffee — Everything — popcorn,
sandwiches, burgers — costs a small fortune, and most of them are not even
great. If we can get better, fresher, and tastier food outside for a fraction
of the price, why are we paying a premium for mediocrity? (Shoutout to Super
Bakers near my house, where a 20-rupee instant coffee tastes like heaven
compared to this disaster.)
As a Malayali saying goes: “Pothujanam kazhuthayalla sir”( The public are not
donkeys, sir,) meaning, “People are not fools, you can’t just take them for
granted.”
Multiplexes are not just for the rich. It is us, the
ordinary movie lovers, who fill those seats and spend our hard-earned money to
keep the cinema culture alive. So please, give us good food, fair prices, and
coffee that actually tastes like coffee.
Until then, I’ll stick to my homemade brew ......rich, strong,
and most importantly, only ₹21! ☕😄
Otherwise, as the Supreme Court warned, the theatres will
soon be empty, not because of ghosts, but because of the snacks! ðŸŽ
