Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Blade


Sooner or later, there comes a point in every man's life when he slips out of bed one night, pours himself a whisky, reclines himself on the couch and stares blankly. Reflecting on nothing in particular. The day after that is different. Only because it is worse than the day before. Nothing has got to give.

Then he realizes such pretentious exercises in the middle of the night are very vain and goes back to sleep. In the morning, he cuts himself with a half-blunt razor blade while shaving.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Playing House

Several years ago, one night my mother and I were stuck at a waterlogged moothira sandhu in West Mambalam.. It was raining heavily and my mother was praying for the auto not to stall. The friendly auto driver broke the tension by pointing to a nice independent maadi veedu. "Idhaan kavarchi nadigai Nalinasree veedu. Ivalai Judge Arivazhagan vechirukkaru." After I grew up enough to fully understand what that meant, I remembered Judge Arivazhagan and felt a pang of envy. He had the most glamorous change from routine, a chinna veedu which he could easily afford on top of his big house.

Back in the day, may be even his thawaali could manage one within his range, if he pushed himself and his first family really hard. An abridged salary envelope to the wife who had a total of  three sarees all of them torn or old. A black-and-white television perennially tuned into the Tuesday drama. A 60 Watts bulb flickering under low voltage in the only bedroom. The kid outgrowing his clothes, his draayer's seam re-stitched a couple of times where it most usually comes off. As the wife somehow managed to stay under the reduced budget, even saved and stashed away some money in a secret corner or dabba, across the Cooum, the concubine would get a covering chain, a new cotton saree and biriyani from Buhari.

In today's times I doubt if Arivazhagan could maintain one regular house without being in cahoots with very rich villains. Thawaali would probably realize the virtues of Sanyasam. The fanciful Software or MBA yuppie -- the center of our universe -- who watches 9/11 anniversary news items on CNN-IBN in favor of Sun News has it worse, a victim of his own Yuppiness. Electronic salary remittance, online banking, skyrocketing inflation and City Centre. Weekly shopping, pizza at least once a week, real vacations, the not so occasional night at GRT Grand Days. Random frills thanks to Apple. Car and driver. EMI. Brand-philic kids and laptop-style education. He does not have to multiply by two to put the proverbial towel on the head. 

In an age of advancing incomes and declining morals, the chinna veedu concept has become cost-prohibitive. Some back of the envelope calculations say it requires tens of crores, over less than two  decades. Assuming a man is 30 - 40 while considering all this, and has 20-25 years left before he dies of a heart attack/blood pressure in peacemaking efforts between two families. At anything less than 10 crores, you cannot even think about a Small House Lite (i.e. a woman who is in relationship with a married man not for money but for love or something like that) leave alone someone from the cine industry or Twitter. Or a poet. 

All you need is someone who says, "Remember the time when we were cavorting in Cannes last year...." leading the middle aged gent at the nearby table in T.G.I Friday's to make the same calculations above.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Aadukalam

So, hawkeye thinks this scene is one of the most powerful scenes in the movie. I beg to differ. Below are the more powerful scenes, in my opinion -

1. "பொண்ணு தீயா இருந்துச்சுயா"
2. "அந்த பொண்ண பாத்தவேன்கர மொறலே சொல்ரண்யா, அது ஒனக்கு செட் ஆகாதுயா"

This is unacceptable coming from someone who aspires to be a டம்மி பீசு like SBI officer or house husband. The role of side characters in that movie is largely under appreciated. Like Nicholas. In Hawkeye's view, if Vettrimaran and Dhanush are Tendulkars, these characters do the bit role like Dodda Ganesh who take the movie past the finish line.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Even ghost climbs down...

A couple of women joined the work team, one of them blonde. I am pleased like a fifteen year old boy who smokes his first cigarette would be -- wanting to be pleased regardless of how he really feels. On the wishlist, this is not as high as you and a blonde chic in the two-seater row, on a trans-Atlantic flight running late. Neither is it as as low as working with a dozen men on an oil field, north of the Arctic Circle. (You can take my word on the last detail.)


As far as the immediate work environment/stream goes, this is a statistical fortune and useless like most statistics, to me at least. Unless Fortune is disposed to a sense of exoticism. Cuban vacations, Ethiopian food, African safari. Visible minorities. Even then, so what?


A group mostly made up of formerly stiff and laconic men is contesting in Casual Conversation Idol and Being Helpful with the Stars.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Block

The workers at Fukushima nuclear plant don't have nuclear technician's block. Friday journalists and unpaid writers have writer's block. 

Saturday, March 12, 2011

St.Patrick and Nagarajan


A Hindu story goes thusly and if it is true, it'd have happened centuries before Saint Patrick. Parikshith, son of Abhimanyu, was killed by Thakshaka, the Serpent King. Parikishith's son, Janamejayan wanted to avenge his father's death. Helped by the absence of the Environmental Protection Agency in those days, he conducted a yaagam to kill all snakes. Thousands of the venomous reptiles fell into the yaagam's fire, and perished. A present-day Janamejayan would utter "justu missu" with a prefix for effect, to describe what followed. As Takshaka was about to be killed, Rishi Astika convinced Janamejayan to spare Takshaka and the serpent race.

According to Christian legend, Saint Patrick banished snakes from Ireland. The Saint and the men of his time could not have predicted that scientists with too much free time on their hands, and National Geographic would completely discredit his legend. Ice Age, geography and Charlie Sheen explain the absence of snakes in Ireland rather than any Christian miracle.

Scientists with too much free time on their hands have not disproved the Hindu legend, yet. Chances are, if not for a Hindu Ksathriya, Ireland would be crawling with snakes, and people everywhere would be playing Paramapadham (Snakes and Ladders) on Saint Patrick's Day instead of drinking in fake-Irish pubs named O'Nagarajan.

P.S: The close similarity between the names Patrick and Parikshith is not lost on the author.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Reset

Like quitting BrickBreaker on your BlackBerry in the middle of a bad game and starting a new one. Like doing veli nadappu from satta sabhai and going back right in.