So let me tell you about a screening I saw the other day at the Toronto International Film Festival. The movie was "The Namesake." I didn't even want to go, too tired, wasn't sure if we could get tickets, but my sister did get them. My mom especially wanted to see the film because part of it takes place in Calcutta, her hometown. Little did I know how much it would affect me too.

The film? Just phenomenal, exquisitely, achingly beautiful, pure poetry. Cannot tell you how much it moved me, touched me. Finally understood what my parents went through when they first came to this country to establish a blessed life for their children. Okay, eyes welling up again, hold on while I get a Kleenex …

So many scenes in the movie reminded me of stories my mom used to tell of her first year in Canada. I loved how Mira Nair (director) subtly showed how the parents first had to live in a small apartment and make do, and gradually throughout the movie they acquire more affluence, just like many Indian families started out in North America in the late sixties/seventies. She got so many little details perfect, just bang-on, it was incredible. Even the scenes of how relatives act in India, the warmth and love they show for their loved ones far away in the West.

The acting was brilliant, especially the mother and father. The mother was played by Tabu, and she did an extraordinary job … gorgeous actress and very understated. There's this one scene where she sees her son's girlfriend (who is white) for the first time, and when the girlfriend greets her by her first name (unheard of in Indian culture!), you can see Tabu's face visibly falls, it was so subtle but it registered on her face. Now that's called acting, folks.

The father, played by Irrfan Khan, was also quite good, especially in his scenes with his gentle romance with his wife, and father-son scenes. The son, played by Kal Penn (of "Harold and Kumar go to White Castle" fame, quite a departure!) was also surprisingly good … you can see his anguish as he lives with his dilemma of being stranded between two opposing cultures, India and America (something I'm sure many of us are familiar with, I know I am), and how his name takes on greater meaning and symbolism because of it.

The main metaphor/symbol of the movie is, of course, one's name … how it can represent one's heritage/culture, and what you do with it (or don't do) can be very telling in how comfortable you are with your own identity and place in the world, or the place your parents brought you up in.

Wow, I'm still so emotional about it … it was especially hard to see it with my mom beside me, because I could tell certain scenes brought back memories for her. Just as the end credits rolled, Nair had put in a dedication "to our parents, who gave us everything". That totally did me in, I choked back tears and was about to start sobbing, then the lights went up and I had to gain my composure before people started staring at the girl with the puffy red eyes. I wish the lights stayed off longer so I could let the tears stream down and fully absorb what I had just seen. But the crowd waits for no one. We were exiting the theatre, and Tabu, that fine actress was standing by herself near the exit. People were talking to her and praising her tour-de-force performance, and then my mom went up and hugged her and said in Bengali, "that was my life you showed up on the screen. Thank you, you did a wonderful job." Tabu smiled and hugged her back and said in Bengali, "aww, don't say that!". Only wish I had a camera at that moment. The waterworks were ready to start for me again. I also told her she gave a beautiful performance, and I don't think she expected to get so much immediate positive feedback from so many people. I remember the people behind me saying, "now that's how a movie should be made!" I think they were referring to some director's filmmaking seminar they attended at TIFF, and they were commenting that this movie was an excellent example that should have been featured.

Amitabh Bachchan was also in the audience … my sis first saw him and was quite excited to spot him, more so than I was! I'm just glad my mom got to hug Tabu and thank her for her performance. I wish the author, Jhumpa Lahiri was there too - her and Nair both deserve a standing ovation for the compelling story they both told. We all nominated the film for a People's Choice (I know, I know, we haven't seen any others but who cares). It's just sad that directors like Mira Nair will never be recognized for powerful, quality films like this at the Oscars (maybe as foreign film? I'm crossing my fingers …).

It's so rare that a movie gets to me this way. What really opened my eyes was the way Nair portrayed the mother/father in the early scenes, making a new life in America. Look out for the scene where the mother goes to the neighbourhood laundromat for the first time; her reaction at the assorted characters she encounters there says it all. That sense of loneliness and isolation and dealing with a new culture, with no relatives or friends around (and back then it wasn't even a multicultural society like it is now) ... I just kept thinking of my own parents and their struggles and sacrifices back then. You take it for granted that everything just fell into place and here we are because it's not really talked about and your parents always seem to keep a stiff upper lip about their immigrant experience. Then you see a movie like this, and you realize what a profound and harrowing change it must have been to start a new life in a country you weren't born in.

Two days later, I was still wondering why the film affected me so. Perhaps because it shone a beacon on a world I never knew. Or never really cared to know. That secret world of our parents before we, the second generation was born. Not only were they discovering and adapting to a strange new country, but they were also discovering and getting used to each other, still mere strangers in one another's eyes (arranged marriages still being the norm back then). I can't even comprehend having all that on my plate in my thirties, let alone at the tender age of 21 or 22 - an age when many first generation Indians got married and migrated to the West in the seventies.

Who can ever truly know those tiny, numerous moments of vulnerability, fear, abject homesickness, and, no doubt, cruel racism they faced in those early years, perhaps on a daily basis? This was the first time - while watching this movie with rapt attention - it was illuminated to me. And yes, we may still complain about that Ivy League school we didn't get into, or that 100K job that wasn't offered to us, or that perfect mate that we have yet to find. But our parents still had it harder. A lot harder.

My mom was also puzzled as to why I had such a strong emotional reaction seeing the film. She couldn't understand how suddenly grateful and appreciative I was of her and my dad's early struggles and hardships, and how I finally understood the story of all those lines and wrinkles etched on her face. She couldn't understand the sharp twinges of guilt I felt at the times I grew impatient or irritated with them, or rolled my eyes when they talked to me. My turbulent twenties were especially hard on them. And I just made it harder.

So I e-mailed her this review. This is why, Amma.