At first, the title Chinna Chinna Aasai (Life’s Tiny Wishes) may come off as gimmicky given how it stars Madhoo as Leela, making us recall the song from Roja (1992) that made her a nationwide darling. But after watching the film, set in near real-time during the course of a day in Banaras, you feel there couldn’t have been a title more befitting. What else do you call a film in which a 52-year-old widow from Thanjavur looks at her newfound companion Madhavan (Indrans) and asks him politely to take her to the famous lassi shop he was talking about earlier? A little later, the same Leela denies Madhavan’s offer to buy her the best mutton biriyani in the ancient city. Just when he steps out for a brief second, Leela pulls that bowl of biriyani towards her and polishes a piece of mutton she had just said no to. She may or may not have eaten meat before this day, but her body language is that of her savouring a desire she may have been holding on to for decades.
Theirs is a friendship that begins on the banks of the river Ganga on one of the many ghats that make the city special. When Leela gets separated from her touring group from Thanjavur after her handbag gets stolen, it’s the Good Samaritan in Madhavan who offers to help her find her way back. But way back to where? That remains a question this film appears to be keen on asking, even if it doesn't spell it out.
How else to do you explain the gentle briskness with which these two become friends? They open up to each other like they’ve been waiting for months to speak and there’s a liberty they allow each other that they’ve seldom allowed an outsider. This is broken down beautifully in the scene in which these two go to a saree shop to buy a Banarasi saree. She doesn’t appreciate that he takes the step forward to place jasmine on her hair. There’s a bit of awkwardness soon after and you feel a certain distance cropping up. The very next moment, Leela demands that Madhavan say sorry to her. And when he does, the smile’s back on her face like a switch has been turned on again and they move along, like nothing ever happened.
What allows for the film’s easy flow is how Madhavan describes himself as her “guide” for the day. So it doesn’t feel like a sub-plot when they visit important places and meet interesting people, both of which contribute generously to the increasingly personal nature of their conversations. Hobbies come up, as does childhood obsessions. Parents come up, as does complex relationships with their respective partners. And as is obvious with any film set in Banaras, concepts and worries about death come up to, just because the idea is everywhere.
It might seem like just another day for someone like Madhavan, but the day ends being just as life-altering for the both of them. But eventually, it’s a film that belongs to Leela for how much she’s allowed to just be on this day. If this was a movie about the Gen Z, the scene set in Madhavan’s apartment, may have felt utterly generic. But the comfort with which the duo behaves feels so refreshing. Both Indrans and Madhoo are spectacular as this couple and what adds to the film’s mood is the equally spectacular cinematography, painting Banaras in a manner in which the timelessness adds to their friendship. Written and directed by Varsha Vasudevan, Chinna Chinna Aasai is an extraordinary reflection on how it’s always the smallest of things that matter most when nothing else matters at all.