Home Shanti Home !!!!

Penning these lines, after a thoroughly frustrating day.As an afterthought, an eventful one as well. Let me walk you through the sequence of events...

Thursday Morning:
The digital clock next to my bed flashed 8:25. An internal trigger goes on and my hand creeps from under the warmth of the comforter. It's destination, the 'ON" button of my laptop. Was wondering what innovative reason my offshore had, to not do the work...My eyes skimmed thru the mails...It stopped on mail titled "HELLO"...hmmm...interesting...a personal mail..I started reading the contents..

An old colleague of mine was coming to onsite and she didn't know any1 over here...accommodation was a problem and she wanted my help in getting something arranged...The good Samaritan in me compelled me to nod my approval..

Thursday afternoon:
came back from office...It was snowing heavily and a red alert was issued throughout CT...Had nothing better to do & hence, organized a snow fight with my roomies. Needless to say, my ego got a pounding..Got drubbed,swallowed quite a few snowballs and at last, begged for mercy...

Back in front of my lappie...Needed to get a place for the girl...rounded up the few female friends I had and started calling them...All attempts lead to a dead end...Most of the female folks over here were veggies & they did have problems accommodating some1 outside their group. I was in a big fix. There were just 72 hours to go, before the subject landed on US soil and the stay was not yet arranged...Had it been a guy, I could have pulled him up to our room. This was a different case..

I vividly remember the cold morning of Nov 20th, one year ago, when a younger me had landed on US shore..Though helpless and dazed, I never had to undergo any hardships, as I had my friends to fall back upon. I will forever be indebted to them for this. I had promised myself to "Pass it On" to whoever came new...

It is 7:35 in the evening and I still haven't got something for her.

Lal and Lal only !!!!!

The best of the best !!!!

One good article which came in rediff some time before...By Mahesh Balagangadhar

Kamal Haasan and Mohanlal. How would pitting one against the other sound? It would be very interesting, though daunting, to compare and contrast their styles, I thought.

I am a Keralite and have grown up in Chennai, and feel fortunate to have watched these two gifted artistes perform in the prime of their careers.

Kamal and Mohanlal (along with Om Puri and Naseeruddin Shah) might be among the most repeated names that serious movie watchers, fellow artistes and critics would pick in their individual Top 10 list of the greatest actors of all time in Indian cinema.

Of course, there are distinct differences in their style of acting. Kamal is probably the closest you could get in the search for a complete actor. His filmography and its content could serve as the best available acting encyclopaedia for any aspiring actor. Very methodical, he seems to have understood and mastered the finer points of acting. Never short on histrionics, he revels in strong, complex roles and, at times, has pushed the boundaries of these roles beyond what the writer or director probably had in mind.

Mohanlal is an actor who might be the most difficult to imitate. For most who don't understand Malayalam or the Kerala milieu, it is even more difficult to admire him. An extremely natural actor, the nuances of his acting skills are at most times so subtle as to seem very bland. Preferring the art of restraint, probably the most under appreciated quality in Indian cinema, he tries hard his to be just another character onscreen.

The sense of effortlessness he has displayed while portraying the range of memorable roles in his career has often transgressed the defined boundaries of great acting. But these aberrations have only lent these roles identities that are closer to real life, besides going beyond the realm of reel life they were originally created for.

Looking at the milestones in their careers, a discerning eye could notice a thread of difference. Here is a discussion on the movies that both bagged three National Awards each.

Kamal -- Moondram Pirai, Nayagan and Indian.

Mohanlal -- Kireedam*, Bharatham and Vaanaprastham.

(*Kireedam won Mohanlal a Special Jury National Award for Best Actor)

The above movies of Kamal were ones in which he had very strong, author-backed roles. In Moondram Pirai, a youngster's life is touched when he interacts with someone who alternates, through the movie, between normalcy and insanity. In Nayagan, he had a dream role, a fictionalised epic version of a real life underworld don. In Indian, he played a 60-plus year old idealistic ex-freedom fighter who decides to take the law in his hands to clean up society.

These were well-written, unique roles that, from their conception, needed an actor like Kamal to do justice to. He elevated these strong author-backed roles into the realm of acting utopia. There was near perfection and acting grandeur in them. In several scenes, Kamal, the actor, took over. The viewers' sense of admiration was more for the actor than for the complexity of the character being portrayed.

Mohanlal's award-winning roles were not ready recipes for instant success and acclaim. Be it the unemployed youth trying to fulfill his father's dream of becoming a policeman in Kireedam, or the younger brother in Bharatham having to deal with the death of his elder brother with a musical rivalry in the backdrop. Or the struggling Kathakali artiste in Vaanaprastham.

He raised these ordinary roles to great heights single-handedly, never succumbing to self-indulgence. He almost underplayed each of these roles. Mohanlal engrossed the viewers so deep that one could almost identify with the pain of these characters. Very few actors and leading men in Indian cinema can lay claim to possess this rare acting attribute.

Two similar, very powerful, scenes in Nayagan and Bharatham highlight their distinct approaches to acting: Kamal first looks at his son's dead body and then lets out a series of gut wrenching cries. Mohanlal identifies a badly mutilated corpse as that of his elder brother at the police station. What follows is a mute cry followed by a subdued trickle of tears and a look of utter helplessness and disbelief in his eyes.

Two very distinct ways of expressing sorrow onscreen. Yet, they arouse the same intensity. But there is a difference in the way you react to the two. When Kamal cries in Nayagan, his expressions are so powerful that you find yourself admiring his acting prowess. When Mohanlal cries in Bharatham, the poignancy he creates hits you the most, not the intensity or the subtlety of his acting. You relate to what his character might be going through.

It would be a watershed in Indian cinema if the two ever decide to come together onscreen. If that happens, I am sure I will be too besotted with them to compare the nuances of their craft. It would just be movie nirvana!

The LAW(less ??)

The last few days were spent,following the verdict delivered to Sanju baba, his subsequent imprisonment, the lunch/dinner menu in the jail and all other minuscule details of the longest and the biggest judicial trials in Indian history...Out of the 123 accused, close to 12 people were sentenced to death,20 were given life,15 got rigorous imprisonment but the media preferred to focus on the 6 year sentence given to Sanju...The publicity created such a furore out here, that an "AMREEKAN" fella( on seeing my long drawn face) started consoling me...My thoughts were more focused on whether i would make it to the ground in time for the match, but I didn't bother letting him know the truth...

Frankly, I thought Sanju didn't deserve the sentence..Well, it's my blog and here is my opinion...


Sanju has always been in trouble from day one..From his dabble with drugs,his rehab program, the rocky marriage with Richa Sharma,the unsuccessful custody battle over his daughter, imprisonment in 93', alleged links with the D company, divorce with Rhea Pillai...phew !! the list goes on...For 14 years, he was being mentally tortured by the court proceedings against him..Isn't that a punishment in itself...

I could be a soft person at heart and hardliners would never consider this to be a punishment, but i would never want to be in his shoes, even for a minute...

I took a glance at the names of the accused on the version of the chargesheet available on the net..Hmmm...There is a similarity amongst the names...A large majority were Muslims..."terrorists", "fanatics", "traitors" - there are no dearth of words that the media uses to describe them...One only has to skim through the oxford/webster to unearth the choicest of lingo's to brand them...But something is not right, here...

I do remember the mumbai riots in 93', the 92' Babri Masjid communal riots, the Godhra riots etc...The hindutva hardliners were as much involved in the riots as their Muslim counterparts...How many of them were sentenced ?? Is the law, sort of one sided ? why is that the Muslims are being branded as terrorists, while the same acronyms are not showered on the Hindus, who commit similar crimes ?



I have a lot of Muslim friends, some of them who are very close to me..I just wonder, how they would feel, if someone suspects their intentions/questions their integrity..The infinite torture inflicted on them, those suspicious eyes scrutinizing every single movement, the discrimination, the mistrust - all in the name of religion...Is it safe to tell that the society(incl u and me) had a hand in creating the modern version of a "terrorist" ?? Shouldn't we be punished as well ?

Disclaimer:
1. The crap written by the blogger,is a reflection of the cluttered state of affairs in his mind and was jotted(without an iota of doubt) under the influence of 1 full glass of Lassi.
2.Yeah, I am a big fan of sanju..So what ???
3. I may have got my statistics all messed up..Every word that I mentioned above, could be as wrong, as a naked man on a crowded train...
4. I am a devout Hindu, who used to go to the temple daily.But as my six hour quota of sleep was snatched away,I have resorted to mumbling a silent prayer in the morning.

The mundane pleasures of life

What makes you happy ? when is it that a smile would break out on your face, sweeping away all the stress from within you and make your day ? hmmm..Now that I pen another entry, this thought makes me ponder...Hold on !! Another thought creeps up, growing every second with alarming proportion...Am I that sodden enough that I have to think about when I last had a good laugh ? Naah !!! it's just one of those days..

back to the pleasures of life...lemme try to turn back the clock and recall some happy memories...hmmm...The earliest I could remember, was the last day of school, when we would pack up( we, bole to, the entire kerala group from our apartment in chembur) and leave for kerala...phew !! we kids used to give a harrowing time to our parents on the Jayanthi Janatha..Oh ! I still remember doing a Miandad and smacking the last ball of the match for a six...The sounds of the wild celebrations that followed still echo in my ears...

I recollect the pompous strut I employed, when I stunned the world(world = Class 5Th, lisieux school) by grabbing the 1st rank..Agreed that the class topper was laid low with jaundice, but those 2 months before the next unit test had all the teachers showering their praises on me...

The road side ice creams for 2rs, the candy you get for 50ps and the tonnes of "Sip ups" that had, Oh lord ! I would give anything to get back those days..The bhelpuris, the shavarmas, the pav bhajis, slurp...the pazhamporis, the bajjis and the VIP tea(the polite abbv for Viral Ittu Pidicha)..The best time to enjoy them was to go to the road side vendors after college and munch em, and pull the legs of ur mates...

Those night outs, those boozing episodes, those fights on the ground,those crushes in school, the days when we ran after the buses, phew !! so much to write and so little space...

These days are generally spent cursing the boss for the amount of work being piled on our heads...So much that, a female colleague of mine famously remarked on the lunch table, " That guy must not be satisfying his wife in bed and hence, is venting his ire on us"..boy , she must have been really frustrated to say that...needless to say, all of us shared a good laugh !!!

There is a smile on my face, when I write this, as thoughts of my impending rafting trip crops up...Boy, I am loving it !!!!

Marriage - The funny side of it..

Was sent to me by ashwathy, an IAS aspirant when we were together at aetna Navalur...really loved this one...

Grandmother was pretending to be lost in prayer, but her prayer-beads
were spinning at top speed. That meant she was either excited or upset.
Mother put the receiver down. "Some American girl in his office, she's
coming to stay with us for a week." She sounded as if she had a deep
foreboding.
Father had no such doubt. He knew the worst was to come.
He had been matching horoscopes for a year, but my brother Vivek had
found a million excuses for not being able to visit India , call any of the
chosen Iyer girls, or in any other way advance father's cause.
Father always wore four parallel lines of sacred ash on his forehead.
Now there were eight, so deep were the furrows of worry on his forehead. I sat
in a corner, supposedly lost in a book, but furiously text-messaging my
brother with a vivid description of the scene before me.

A few days later I stood outside the airport with father. He tried
not to look directly at any American woman going past, and held up the card
reading "Barbara". Finally a large woman stepped out, waved wildly and
shouted "Hiiii! Mr. Aayyyezh, how ARE you?" Everyone turned and
looked at us. Father shrank visibly before my eyes. Barbara took three long
steps and covered father in a tight embrace. Father's jiggling out of it was
too funny to watch. I could hear him whispering "Shiva Shiva!". She
shouted "you must be Vijaantee?" "Yes, Vyjayanthi" I said with a smile. I
imagined little half-Indian children calling me "Vijaantee aunty!". Suddenly,
my colorless existence in Madurai had perked up. For at least the next
one week, life promised to be quite exciting.
Soon we were eating lunch at home. Barbara had changed into an even shorter
skirt. The low neckline of her blouse was just in line with father's eyes.
He was glaring at mother as if she had conjured up Barbara just to torture
him. Barbara was asking "You only have vegetarian food? Always??" as if
the idea was shocking to her. "You know what really goes well with Indian food,
especially chicken? Indian beer!" she said with a pleasant smile, seemingly
oblivious to the apoplexy of the gentleman in front of her, or the choking
sounds coming from mother. I had to quickly duck under the table to hide
my giggles.Everyone tried to get the facts without asking the one question on
all our minds: What was the exact nature of the relationship between Vivek
and Barbara?


She brought out a laptop computer. "I have some pictures of Vivek" she
said. All of us crowded around her. The first picture was quite innocuous.
Vivek was wearing shorts and standing alone on the beach. In the next
photo, he had Barbara draped all over him. She was wearing a skimpy bikini
and leaning across, with her hand lovingly circling his neck. Father got
up, and flicked the towel off his shoulder. It was a gesture we in the
family had learned to fear. He literally ran to the door and went out.
Barbara said "It must be hard for Mr. Aayyezh.
He must be missing his son." We didn't have the heart to tell her that if
said son had been within reach, father would have lovingly wrung his
neck.
My parents and grandmother apparently had reached an unspoken agreement.
They would deal with Vivek later. Right now Barbara was a foreigner, a
lone woman, and needed to be treated as an honored guest. It must be said
that Barbara didn't make that one bit easy. Soon mother wore a perpetual
frown.
Father looked as though he could use some of that famous Indian beer.
Vivek had said he would be in a conference in Guatemala all week, and would
be off both phone and email. But Barbara had long lovey-dovey
conversations with two other men, one man named Steve and another named Keith. The
rest of us strained to hear every interesting word. "I miss you!" she said
to both. She also kept talking with us about Vivek, and about the places
they'd visited together. She had pictures to prove it, too. It was all very
confusing.


This was the best play I'd watched in a long time. It was even better
than the day my cousin ran away with a Telugu Christian girl. My aunt had
come howling through the door, though I noticed that she made it to the
plushest sofa before falling in a faint. Father said that if it had been his
child, the door would have been forever shut in his face. Aunt promptly
revived and said "You'll know when it is your child!" How my aunt would
rejoice if she knew of Barbara!

On day five of her visit, the family awoke to the awful sound of
Barbara's retching. The bathroom door was shut, the water was running, but far
louder was the sound of Barbara crying and throwing up at the same time.
Mother and grandmother exchanged ominous glances. Barbara came out and her
face was red. "I don't know why", she said, "I feel queasy in the mornings
now." If she had seen as many Indian movies as I'd seen, she'd know why.
Mother was standing as if turned to stone. Was she supposed to react with
the compassion reserved for pregnant women? With the criticism reserved
for pregnant unmarried women? With the fear reserved for pregnant
unmarried foreign women who could embroil one's son in a paternity suit?
Mother, who navigated familiar flows of married life with the skill of a champion

oarsman, now seemed completely taken off her moorings.
She seemed to hope that if she didn't react it might all disappear
like a bad dream. I made a mental note to not leave home at all for the next
week.Whatever my parents would say to Vivek when they finally got a-hold
of him would be too interesting to miss. But they never got a chance. The
day Barbara was to leave, we got a terse email from Vivek. "Sorry, still
stuck in Guatemala . Just wanted to mention, another friend of mine, Sameera
Sheikh, needs a place to stay. She'll fly in from Hyderabad tomorrow
at 10am . Sorry for the trouble."


So there we were, father and I, with a board saying "Sameera". At
last a pretty young woman in salwar-khameez saw the board, gave the smallest
of smiles, and walked quietly towards us. When she did 'Namaste' to
father, I thought I saw his eyes mist up. She took my hand in the friendliest
way and said "Hello, Vyjayanthi, I've heard so much about you." I fell in
love with her. In the car father was unusually friendly. She and Vivek had been
in the same group of friends in Ohio University. She now worked as a
Child Psychologist.
She didn't seem to be too bad at family psychology either. She took
out a shawl for grandmother, a saree for mother and Hyderabadi bangles for
me." Just some small things. I have to meet a professor at Madurai University
and it's so nice of you to let me stay" she said. Everyone cheered
up. Even grandmother smiled. At lunch she said "This is so nice. When I make sambar,
it comes out like chole, and my chole tastes just like sambar".
Mother was smiling. "Oh just watch for 2 days, you'll pick it up." Grandmother
had never allowed a muslim to enter the kitchen.
But mother seemed to have taken charge, and decided she would bring
in who ever she felt was worthy. Sameera circumspectly stayed out of the
puja room, but on the third day, was stunned to see father inviting her in
and telling her which idols had come to him from his father. "God is one"
he said. Sameera nodded sagely.
By the fifth day, I could see the thought forming in the family's
collective brains. If this fellow had to choose his own bride, why
couldn't it be someone like Sameera? On the sixth day, when Vivek called from
the airport saying he had cut short his Guatemala trip and was on his way
home, all had a million things to discuss with him.
He arrived by taxi at a time when Sameera had gone to the University.
"So, how was Barbara's visit?" he asked blithely. "How do you know
her?" mother asked sternly. "She's my secretary" he said. "She works very
hard, and she'll do anything to help."
He turned and winked at me.


Oh, I got the plot now! By the time Sameera returned home that
evening, it was almost as if her joining the family was the elders' idea. "Don't
worry about anything", they said, "we'll talk with your parents."
On the wedding day a huge bouquet arrived from Barbara.

It said......



"Flight to India - $1500.

Indian kurta - $15.

Emetic to throw up - $1.

The look on your parents' faces - priceless" J

Divine

Kaarmukil varnante chundil
cherum odakuzhalinte ullil
veenurangunnoru sree raagame
ninnil pulkiyunarthaan
marannu kannan

njanen mizhi naalamanayaatherichum
neerum nejakam akilaay pukachum
vaadum karalthadam kanneeraal nanachum
ninne thedi nadannu thalarnnu krishna
neeyen nombaram ariyumo shyaama varna




ninte nandana vrindaavanathil
pookkum paarijaathathinte kombil
varum janmathilenkilum shourye
oru poovaay viriyaan kazhinjuvenkil
ninte kaalkkal veenadiyuvaan kazhinjuvenkil

krishna.......krishna.....krishna....
krishna.......krishna.....krishna....

Ecstasy

There's a lady who's sure
All that glitters is gold
And she's buying a stairway to heaven.
When she gets there she knows
If the stores are all closed
With a word she can get what she came for.
Ooh, ooh, and she's buying a stairway to heaven.

There's a sign on the wall
But she wants to be sure
cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.
In a tree by the brook
There's a songbird who sings,
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven.
Ooh, it makes me wonder,
Ooh, it makes me wonder.

There's a feeling I get
When I look to the west,
And my spirit is crying for leaving.
In my thoughts I have seen
Rings of smoke through the trees,
And the voices of those who standing looking.
Ooh, it makes me wonder,
Ooh, it really makes me wonder.



And its whispered that soon
If we all call the tune
Then the piper will lead us to reason.
And a new day will dawn
For those who stand long
And the forests will echo with laughter.

If theres a bustle in your hedgerow
Dont be alarmed now,
Its just a spring clean for the may queen.
Yes, there are two paths you can go by
But in the long run
Theres still time to change the road youre on.
And it makes me wonder.

Your head is humming and it wont go
In case you dont know,
The pipers calling you to join him,
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow,
And did you know
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind.

And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our soul.
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How evrything still turns to gold.
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last.
When all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll.

And shes buying a stairway to heaven.

Harry Puttar and my seemingly endless wait.....

The other day someone was questioning me whether I still read Potter....My unabashed reply was not something he expected and the poor chap was staring at with sympathy laden eyes...My eyes were quite busy elsewhere( no, there were no chicks around), searching in vain for a wand nearby and use the avada kedavra on him...Yeah, I like potter and what's the big deal in that ??

The morning was spent on cursing amazon fellas. Those loons had bragged that the book would be delivered today..Still no signs...was frequently tracking the shipment and it seems that the book had still not left hartford...Was tempted to use the "Pappadam kuthi" and try the summoning charm....Kya kare, once a muggle, always a muggle !!!

Spent the morning following the test match at Lords...Sachin scored 37 but India wanted something much bigger from him...Sachin is something more than a player for me..have grown up seeing him play, right from the 92 world cup till today..For us fanatics, he is a god incarnate..And to know that this would be his last appearance at the mecca of cricket,was quite depressing...

Oh ! amidst all this, Indian team was doing what it knows best...messing up the match...

I hear rumblings from the distance..Drat !!! thunder storms are approaching..I cursed the rain gods as this meant another day lost for cricket...I looked up ..Hmm !! Strange, I see blue skies throughout...I look below..and locate the source of those hideous sounds...Hmmm..It seems to be from my tummy....

Signing off as I need to pacify my stomach....

A day, some thoughts, salmon and swimming

"Crap, Pathetic !!!" would be the incantation from Parida's side if he had looked at the title..As usual, I was lazy to think about some fundoo title for this post..."Don't judge a post by it's title" - my lazy mind was preaching....hmm..an original blogger's saying...It did bear some inexplicable similiarity to another saying in english..but then who cares....Originality had lost its say long back...

Nothing much to report today..Got up quite early at 7.15 and rushed to the office by 8.00..pretty early from Indian standards, but the elation was lost once I entered the facility..the "vidheshis" were already onto their 2nd coffee..Being "an unearthly time" for Indians to reach office, I was rewarded with a lot of sympathetic glances....

The meetings just flew by, conducted by folks who didn't have the faintest of ideas on what to talk & attended by folks who didn't have a clue on what was going on...


The best way to go by these, as experience taught me, was to stick to the side to which the wind blew..more often than not, it should be the right path...


and that's it..I am too hungry and too lazy and too bored to type more...calling it quits..Oh ! we cooked salmon for the first time that day...prior to that went swimming...The last sentences used the last reserves of my strength..did it solely because the post should contain some reference to these terms...phew..

To build or not to build......

why do I take all sorts of rash decisions these days ??? repenting afterwards is not practical..hmm...have to dust up those grey cells and find a way out of this soup...

Those tees looked fab on that damn dummy...was mesmerised by its appeal..imagined myself to be one kewl and trendy dude in 'em..Hell mate !!! Picturized me in em, walking thru the malls, with the every1 drooling over me...hmmm...thoughts needn't necessarily translate into practical situations in life..But then, the euphoria created,shut out the ramblings from that distant corner of the brain, where logic still had a say....Note: I still do have remnants of a brain, however miniscule it is.....An entry, glorifying the intellectual capabilities of my grey cells, would be published soon as proof for the non believers....

Oh !!yeah...My cluttered brain fell for the bright mirage generated by those trendy clothes and guided my hands to drop all those clothes onto the counter....The million watt smile on the clerk's face was falsely assumed to be something reserved only for customers who shop big time....Perhaps, there was an element of sarcasm in it....

Couldn't wait to try those back home...Drat !! those dumb sunglasses of mine were missing...Using advanced combing techniques, I finally located them inside the flower pot....In full attire, with the air of a hunk, I finally took a look at myself in the mirror....

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH !!!!!!!!! In a split second, realisation wiped away those ephemeral thoughts.....My stubborn brain tried its best to locate the silver lining but seems that the bloody cloud never had one....To wear those trendy clothes, one must be endowed with a complete set of biceps, chest and abs....Since, these were not for sale anywhere, I was in trouble...googled the fitness sites and realised that sweating for 6 months, might produce results....Those disclaimers, ifs and buts didn't help to improve my confidence...




With a loud groan, I set out on my quest to unearth the elusive dumbells, which were stored conveniently away from the eyes of the general public, lest some1 were affected by thoughts to start toning down.....I sat staring at the pair for close to 15 min, munching those snack bars..To build or not to build, that is the question !!!

About 5 lazy arses and a mrn at Mangalassery.....

don't know how else to describe the 5 of us who spend the best 3 years of our lives at Mangalassery....We were just a bunch of lazy bums who did everything from planning month end tours to charting our careers, without venturing away from the comforts of our bed....

I used to Kick start a day at mangalassery...Ahem, meant that I used to kick the others from their bed every mrn...Followed by a mad rush downstairs to get the paper...enroute, a halt at sanil's door, to borrow tooth paste...so much for the fun part..once inside, the crisp news paper would be "split up" among whoever was awake...the lucky one(usually the strongest) got the sports section and with it, the oppurtunity to use the "Den" aka Mithilapuri...roughly translated to Loo...

Oh..how could i forget it !! Waking up sanooj everyday was the best part of the morning...from within the murky darkness of the once pink bed sheet( which saw water & soap once a decade), 2 fingers would direct the nearest person to the switchboard...subsequent twirling of the fingers, first clockwise and then , up an' down, was his way of signalling to us to turn off the fan...a period of inactivity was followed by the shaking of his feet...This action meant that he would rise like a phoenix from under the sheet in another 10 min...Something that we got to know thru the course of time..

6 people and one loo usually indicates a late entry into the class..but, Mangalasserians were always prompt to enter the classrooms... back seats got filled up first and the lecturers would be shocked to see us up front...

Breakfast was a gala affair at Rajadhani/Classic...brkfast was a routine affair - tea ,appam and egg curry..then a 50ps ride to college on the pvt bus...bustling and jostling, we made it to the happening place called "Manakala Junction"...

My Evaluation sheet...

Happened to look at the calendar in my outlook....hmmm..it was the month of july...been 8 months since I reached the land of dreams...8 long months, but for me, they just flew by...decided to evaluate those 8 months..in terms of what I have gained and what I have lost...

First thoughts were in terms of career..hmm, I have gone up a notch or two now..seen places, met people...I discovered traits of mine, which were hitherto, unseen.. have been more responsible(my friends back home would have a good laugh on reading this), more patient and more diplomatic in handling tough situations...

Partied hard, slogged hard..Loved my life & lived my life...Transformed from a horrendous cook to a bad cook...from a choosy person to an "anything is good for me" type...
phew !! so much for the good stuff..

On a personal front, it was a loss...Was not with my granny when she passed away...She always used to say that she was the first one in the family to hold me when I entered the world...And I was not with her, when she left the world..

Never been separated from my parents for so long..Realised how much they miss me, the last time I talked to amma..they seem to have stopped making all my fave dishes at home, as they feel it would not be good enuf without me by their side...



8 months from my family, friends and relatives...8 months from the sights and sounds that I loved so much...8 long months...Have I gained or Have I lost ?? That remains a question

Scribbling for nothing !!!

Wanted to scribble something in the blog...signed in and was waiting for creativity to arrive and then pen something legible...The wait for creativity lasted for 2 dosas and 1 omelette....After that, realisation dawned...Creativity would arrive only with a hungry stomach and a fella with a full stomach has time only for sleep...

I turned over to my bed and waited for sandman to come...sheesh, !! the line reminds me of those stupid comics where the anti hero, the sandman, lulls kids to eternal sleep...Eternal sleep, though not the need of the hour, was too tempting...

The love of my life

I can hear the rains lashing outside..summer is not the time for rains but the rain god must have been in a rebellious mood today..The winds were howling through the trees and bought a strange sort of ambience to the atmosphere...It bought back old memories...Memories of my love...

I miss her so much now...far across the seven seas, I have no means to see her...I still remember those rainy day when I went for a ride with her...that was so long before...I miss those intimate moments....Her touch was so reassuring that it had a calming effect on me..I knew that i could find solace in her fold...She was my constant companion during my days in India...How I miss her now....The separation was unbearable...

I had half a mind to bring her with me..but my parents would never allow that...They would not understand...they never will..There were other problems too...The costs involved were exorbitant...It was just not possible..I should learn to live without her...No, I just can't think of any one else in her place...There are lots of harleys and suzukis...But none could ever stand before my beloved CALIBER !!!

2623 makes the move !!

hmmm...where did i leave off ?? yup, dinner..don't remember the menu we ordered..but just know that our resolve to follow the age old belief to eat lightly before a journey, was broken...the food was really good....so, eat we did, without any inhibitions....

Thru the subway, we made it to central... I was brought down to my senses when i realised that the my ticked status was still RAC...it needed to move another 20 places in order to have a realistic chance of making it to the cnfrmd status..."Don't worry mate, mebbe ur berthmate would be a gorgeous stud an' you can spend the hours chatting with her", my worried mind was trying to find the silver lining....

pushing aside the heads that threatened to block my view of the reservation chart, i peeked thru to get hold of the chart...and there, lo and behold(after 10 min of standing on tip toe), i could see my name at the very bottom, with the status as cnfrmd...yippeeee !!!

With the last of the tensions resolved, we made our way thru the milling crowd...It was a foregone conclusion that our coach would be at the very end of the track and as usual my money was safe....we "scanned" the chart but to no avail...A quiet night, indeed...

Decided to meet after the TTE was done over with..UB is my fave spot and so far, I was riding my luck....

2623 - MAS to CGNR - RAC to CNFRMD

The buzz of my alarm was never greeted with enthusiasm...Had it got a pair of legs and a life of its own, the time piece of mine would have fled from the scene, fearing my wrath...But, today was a different day..it was friday, and a loooooooong weekend was around the corner...

I bounded out of my bed..40 minutes to get ready for office and to pack my bags...ample time, bro..grabbing the day's edition, I locked myself inside "The Den"...

After stuffing all the clothes into the bag, I scampered out to the bus stop...In the nick of time...I could see numerous pairs of eyes staring at me, eyes full of envy...those hapless souls who were cursed to spend the weekend at office...I trudged on to my fave seat and sat down...

Breakfast at Navalur has always been a pleasant experience...the gang woud assemble and start off with the usual...Girls in friday casuals more than made up for the sodden breakfast...ogling at em, we started charting out the evening plans..the time to get out of office, the bus to catch etc...

logged in to the PC at work...it seemed to echo the user's state of mind...lazy ,in no mood to work and it took a whole 10 minutes to get started....The chores for the day looked cakewalk..hmmm...

Finally, after 3 coffee breaks, a heavy lunch and hours of browsing, the numbers at the bottom left corner of the screen became 4.45 pm..Time to make a move...After pacifying the fellas that I would be bringing them chips, I started...

The fellas had gathered near the gate...With the usual light hearted banter, we started out to get the 5.00 bus...hopefully in time to catch the 5.45 from tidel...The bus was jampacked, but we didnt have an option...We hauled ourselves in...

Traffic was heavy but we still made it in time to the metro...got ourselves tickets and waited fo the shuttle to come..Dinner would be from some hotel near central...hmmm..lots of time to catch 2623...we crowded near the door as the train chugged on to central...screamed would be a better word...The cool breeze felt reassuring and soothed the tensions of the past week...felt good that I would be seeing my parents and my friends again...yippe....

We got down at park and merged with the crowd moving towards central...The faded, but impressive red building loomed in the horizon....A sight to behold, indeed !!!

8.45 - 9.00 !!!

"how much did it come to ???"

5 pairs of eyes carefully sifted through the coins and notes under the dim light of the street lamp...would it be enough ?? That was the question in every1's mind...

John got the picture immediately...80 short...heck...
The five of us started pondering on the possibilities...In the IT jargon, work around solutions was the need of the hour...did we have any ??

Time was running short..The place closed by 9 and we just had 15 min...

Mandan and vis looked forlorn...An anti climax to the 2 days of planning seemed to be around the corner...We had put in a lot of thought in to every part of the plan and special care was taken on the question of funds..300 was quite a large sum for 6 unemployed jerks but we had made up our mind...

We sat under the banyan tree..That's where we usually assembled in the evening...Like vultures hungry for flesh, we scanned the area for the innocent prey to wander near us...Would we get those 80 bucks ??? hmmm...

And get, we did..don't ask me how, coz i forgot...yup..started that piece of ancient machinery, which also acted as Pappus bike...pushing the hag of a bike to the edge, the 4 of us rode to the nearest place...

reached in the nick of time..the place was just closing up..the probability of getting one was close to seeing a dodo walking on the road again..But pappu was at his polite best..he begged, cried, tried all his magic and finally coaxed the fellow at the counter to part with it...

We rushed to our fave spot..The entire place was deserted...The smiles on our faces said it all..we had finally done it..And thats, how, we first tasted the stuff...

Time heals

old timers say that..read in some books bout it too...

the pain was unbearable..when you are going to lose some1 who is close to you and you know that you are helpless...it was one such ocassion...I was helpless...it just shakes your confidence..I thought that I had the solution to most of the problems..yet, i could just stand by, mute...

The enormity of my actions took a while to sink in...God, why did I do that ? I don't have an answer till date..I could have changed all this- the course of my life...But, I didn't..Just stayed silent...

The guilt remains to this day...It took several days to recover from the impact...Long winded talks with my friends, those lonely hours i spent alone pondering my actions, the incessant pressure at work...It took time...and it healed...Yup, time does heal all wounds..The old timers got it right, yet again....But, what about the scars ? Oh Wise men ! speak up...
They still remain, deep inside your heart, like forgotten painful memories...I am destined to live with them...

Memories at the beach.....

We were at the beach...where else would you expect us on a saturday evening...the movie had redefined our logic levels and questioned our belief in the physics, gravity and hyper metabolic xyz, whatever...Newton would have died on the spot instead of waiting for the apple to fall on his head, had he seen the dumb movie...

Maybe the salty air wuz just what we needed to recharge our grey cells...We took a spot far away from the crowd and drank in the view...saturday evening at the beach, has always been a fabulous experience for me...this time, it was no different...

The waves were high, a bit unnatural at this time...I could see the kids screaming when a particularly big one threatened to drench them...I could see some fellas having a good time playing a game, ahem...one can't define a game which is a cross bw soccer and volleyball...I could see the lovers, glued to themselves, enjoying their cozy moments....and then, I saw her.....

She was strolling on the beach, a little too near to the waves...always on the lookout for the big one...and when it came, she would scurry off from the edge, laughing at the effort...she was different, from the rest, mesmerised by the beauty and oblivious to the madding crowd...A whiff of innocence...

There are some days which one would turn away like pages in a book, too insignificant to hold in your memory...others would bring sad thoughts...Some held memories, which brings a smile to your face...And then there are days like this...they hold a special meaning in your life..this was one of them..I met her for the first time that evening.....

A Saturday morning

Got up quite late..11.00 am...pondered, while lying on the bed on what to do in the weekend..A repeat of yesterday's night out ?? no way buster !!! Another of that freaky night and I am grounded...got up from my bed and went to c the fellas...basil wuz quite excited bout the match..Oz were the favourites but then other teams have sharpened their skills too...except my team !!!

Cleaned up a mountain of vessels...hmmm, any nitwit knows that unclean vessels stink over the week, but then sanity has always refused to impress our grey cells...the thrill of scrubbing away the scum, the wild pleasure one gets when u notice that yellow moss has spread all over the vessels, hmmm, u just cant beat that..Oh, btw, rice flowers can be commercially cultivated by immersing boiled rice and keeping it underwater for 3 weeks...for genetically modified versions of the same, add sambhar/rasam/other curries to the rice and repeat the process....

sat down on the plush diwan to watch the match...the power hitters are back...blasting their way out of trouble...cricket has changed, man !! but, then thats another story...

we crashed out !!!

I had a sick feeling by noon that something would go awry...The team had to do well, had to beat the lankans to stay alive..anticipated an exciting game, but things just sort of fell apart..
But then, this has been happening for quite some time..

back from office, lying on the couch..the whole gang is here,as another lifeless weekend is gonna start..This is america for christ's sake, u enjoy life out here mate..Middletown, though geographically in US, is simply a place in the middle of nowhere...