Over a cup of coffee...

Last Day

2011-05-16T11:34:00.004-04:00

"How long before they arrive?"

"Possibly an hour. Do you need anything Sir?"

"I will be fine."

That was an indication to my man friday to leave me alone. Having lived with me for the past 30 odd years, he knew me inside out. Might I say, he knew me better than my wives. He knew that it was a crazy request given the circumstances, but he did not want to spoil my last day.

My last day as a ruler.

I feel sad. I had built something new and wanted to move there quickly, but fate intervened. It looks like I will have to leave from my old fort. It holds so many memories. Some good. Most bitter. But then, like all men, I preferred clinging to power. At this ripe age, I should have passed the baton of leadership to my fueding sons, but did I?

Like most men, I was afraid that I would lose respect. My power. My position. For all these years, people have asked me for favor. I could not even imagine a situation the other way around. No wonder men hate to be retired. I can realize that they feel so....impotent. The strange notion that you hold other people's fate in your hands is like aphrodisiac to any man. But today, it was all about to change.

"That bitch." I cried aloud.

My man friday smiled. That was how I addressed her privately. While talking to anyone else, I would curb my instincts from blurting it out. I knew it would be inappropriate to reveal it publicly. I might be old and senile, but I am anything if not dignified.

But the resentment I felt towards her was inexplicable. Never has a day gone by when I have wanted to strangle her with my own hands. I wanted to see her eyes bulge out and her milk white skin flush pink with anger and pain. I would give anything to do it or watch it happen.

Heck, I am day dreaming. That's not gonna happen.

Like a game of chess, we had tried to outwit each other for so long. Seems its time to be checkmated. That cunning old hag. She had found my weak spot. My family.

She targeted my fueding sons and their ambitious mothers. In their own dreams for the coveted crown and throne, little did thay realise that they were playing into the enemy's hands. I remained vulnerable like a cornered bull fighter who watches a mad bull with its sharp horns aimed at his stomach. All you can do is to take your eyes off horns and keep away from looking. Its one thing to be deceived by your own judgement, and another to be denounced by the very people whom you expected to take forward your legacy.

"Aalampanah. They are outside."

Sigh. There it was, the inevitable right outside my door steps. A little birdie in my head was singing in a sweet cuckoo voice asking me to kill as many as possible and go down bravely. Perhaps, even at this ripe age, I preferred clinging to my powerless body rather than die peacefully.

Perhaps, death would indeed be relieving no matter how it comes. At least, when you are dead, people will start saying good things about you. Dont they always?

The officer, Major William Hudson, walked towards me and smiled. Perhaps, he wanted to be dignified doing this heinous act. He knew he was carving his name in the history of this country and that gave him an authority.

"By the power vested in me by the Queen of England, I hereby arrest you, Bahadur Shah Zafar. Have you anything to say regarding your arrest?"

I smiled. Hearing her name, I should be feeling angry. But why was I smiling? Part of me was sad, and part was happy. Maybe I wanted to rest. Perhaps, involuntarily, this was the best. I nodded and walked with him.

I looked back once at the tomb of my Mughal father and forefathers and a little pearl ran down my cheek. I thought to myself

"उम्र-ए-दराज़ माँगके लाए थे चार दिन

दो आरज़ू में कट गए, दो इन्तज़ार में"

I asked for a long life, I received four days

Two passed in desire, two in waiting.

P.S: What were you thinking?

மை சன்

2011-03-13T11:51:00.006-04:00

"ஒவ்வொரு தடவையும் வோட்டு போடும்போதும் இந்த தடவையாவது நமக்கு நல்லது நடக்கும் நு மக்கள் நினைக்கிறாங்க". முதல்வனில் சுஜாதாவின் இந்த கூர்மையான வசனங்கள் மிக உண்மையானவை. ஒவ்வொரு தேர்தலின்போதும் நாம் நம்பிக்கையோடு விரலில் மை வைத்து கொள்கிறோம். ஆனால் ஐந்து வருடங்கள் முடிந்து மூஞ்சியில் கரி தான் பூச படுகிறது. கிட்ட தட்ட சலிப்பும் ஏமாற்றமும் மிச்சம் உள்ள தேர்தலில் களத்தில் "எவன் நின்றால் என்ன" நு சலிச்சுகிறது நியாயம் தான்.

இப்பொழுது இருக்கும் கலைஞர் ஆட்சியிலும் இதே கதி தான். மத்த ஆட்சியில மட்டும் என்ன வாழுந்துதாம்ன்னு நீங்க நினைக்கிறது புரியுது. "இதோ நான் ரிடையர் ஆக போறேன்"நு ஒரு அறிக்கையிலும் , "நான் அப்பிடி சொல்லவே இல்ல" நு இன்னொரு அறிக்கையிலும் மெகா சீரியல் மாமியார் போல்

மக்களை குழப்புகிறார். சரி ஆட்சியில் தான் அடுத்தது யாருன்னு குழப்பம்நா இவரு குடும்ப ஆட்களும் அவர்களின் சண்டையும் தமிழ் மெகா சீரியலில் வரும் சதிகளையும் குள்ளனரித்தனங்களை விடவும் அதிகமானவை.

அவன் அவன் ஒரு குடும்பத்துல இருக்குற வம்பயே சமாளிக்க முடியல, ஆனா இவரு திறமையா ரெண்டு போண்டாடிகளையும்(ஆபீசியல் நம்பர்) அவரகளுடைய வாரிசுகளையும் சமாளிக்கிறார். தன்னுடைய பேச்சாற்றலாலும், வசன பானங்களையும் தொடுத்து கிட்டத்தட்ட அரை நுற்றாண்டு நிறைய சம்பாதித்துவிட்டார்.....நான் மக்கள் நம்பிக்கைய சொன்னேங்க....நீங்க எதுவும் தப்ப நினைகல்லயே? இத்தனை ஆட்சி மற்றும் குடும்ப பிரச்சனைக்கும் இடையில் இவர் "கலைஞரின் இளைஞன்" மாதிரி வெற்றிகரமான(?) படங்களுக்கு வேற வசனம் எழுதி தரதை பார்க்கும்போது "இந்த ரணகளதுளையும் உனக்கு கிளுகிளுப்பு கேக்குதா" நு நினைக்காம இருக்க முடியல.

குடும்ப சொத்து வெளில போக கூடாதுன்னு அடுத்த வாரிசுகளுக்கு தயா"நிதி", அருள்"நிதி", உதய"நிதி" நு வெச்சுட்டாரு போல. இனிமேல் வரவங்களுக்கு அநேகமா கட்சி"நிதி", தேர்தல்"நிதி" நு பேரு வெச்சாலும் ஆச்சர்ய படறதுக்கு ஒன்னும் இல்ல. தமிழனின் பலவினமான ஆசையானது இலவசம். இருபது ரூபா சோப்பு வாங்கினாலே ரெண்டு ரூபா சீப்பு எதிர்பார்க்கிற நமள்ள சரியாய் புரிஞ்சு போன தேர்தலில் வெச்சாரு ஒரு செக். அதுதான் இலவச டிவி. ஆனா அதே டி வீ ல ராஜாவின் ராசலீலைகள் சென்றடைந்தது சொந்த செலவில் சூன்னியம் வெச்சுகிட்ட மாதிரி ஆச்சு.

அநேகமா இந்த தேர்தலில் இலவசமா IPAD 2 தருவாங்கன்னு உடன்பிறப்புகள் நாக்கை தொங்க போட்டு இருக்கிறார்கள். ஒரு இடை தேர்தலில் இவர் கட்சியினர் அறிமுகபடுத்திய "வோட்டு போட்டா காசு" திட்டம் பட்டையை கிளப்பியது. அட என்னங்க ...பின்ன என்னிக்கி நம்ம ஊருல 80% சதவிதம் வாக்கு பதிவாச்சு சொல்லுங்க? தமிழ்நாட்டில் தேர்தல் நடத்தறது பீகாரை விட கஷ்டம்நு தேர்தல் கமிஷன் வட்டாரங்கள் சொல்லுது. அநேகமா நாசிகில அச்சாகிற பணம் பூரா நம்ம ஊருல தான் செலவாக போகுதுன்னு நினைகிறேன்.

அநேகமாக நரிக்குறவர்கள் தவிர எல்லாரையும் உசுபேத்தி ஒரு பாராட்டு விழா எடுக்க விட்டார்கள். அதிலும் சன் டிவியில் இவர் அறிக்கையை இப்பொழுது படிக்கும்போதும் "மச்சான் இந்த வாட்டி நான் ஜெயச்சா என்ன பண்ணுவேன்...கேளேன்...மச்சான் நீ கேளேன்...மாப்பிளை நீயாவது கேளேன்" நு கெஞ்சற மாதிரி தான் இருக்கு.

இந்த பண பலத்தையும், ஆசை வார்த்தைகளையும் மீறி 2001 போல் இந்த தேர்தலிலும் தமிழகம் ஆச்சர்ய படவைக்குமா? அக்னி நட்சத்திரத்துக்கு பிறகு தெரியும் சூடு யாருக்கு விழ போகிறது என்று.

பெயர்: கலைஞர்

வயது: அசைபோடும் வயது

பிரச்சனை: ஆசைபடும் மனது

பலம்: பேச்சாற்றல்

பலவீனம்: மெகா சீரியல் குடும்பம்

பிடித்த கதை: பராசக்தி

பிடிக்காத கதை: ஒரு ஊருல ஒரு "ராஜா" இருந்தானாம்.....

Portrait: Kannanrajiv

I Hate Luv Storys

2011-02-27T01:10:00.003-05:00

"How long do you think?" asked the bearded man.

"Must be another 30 minutes" replied the man with the scar honking with disgust. He got irritated when someone pestered him with questions. At the age of 12, in a fit of rage, he had broken his teacher's head and ran away scared of police. The same anger earns him his bread with regular dadagiri and occasional murder.

"Bhaiyya. Stop for tea. I am feeling sleepy." the new recruit chottu just added salt on the scarred man's wounds.

They stopped outside an old dilapidated tea shop where Sardar drivers and their puny assistants drank tea and ate Parle G cracking vulgar jokes and laughing loudly. Chottu grabbed 3 biscuit packets and ordered 3 masala tea.

"So what is the number?" asked chottu.

"What number?" replied the irritated scarred man.

"You know. Like 'Ab tak chappan', do you keep count of the number people you tanked off?"

The scarred man had never given it a thought. The only thing he remembered clearly was his first cold blooded murder. That was thrilling experience. But the later ones were more mechanical and he just went through the motions. He probably got used to it.

He made a mental note to keep a score of his victims henceforth. Maybe like the Count of Monte Christo.

"Are you sure that our targets would be there as expected?"

"Yep. The source is quite reliable. They stay in a small apartment in the next city." replied the bearded man.

"What do you think they might be doing now?" winked chottu mischievously.

She lay her head on his hairy chest playfully wriggling them. He looked over the ceiling and saw the fan which was loud enough to hide the sound of their love making. He was not sure if he should be relieved or troubled about it. They were still getting used to each other physically although they could read each other's train of thoughts at that moment.

"Do you think we made a mistake?" she asked.

Like most women, she felt guilty and doubted her actions after an act. Like most men, he remained silent and neutral. The only thing he had learnt from his parents' marital life was to stay silent when in doubt. He knew that they were past the 'mistake' borderline.

"I dont think it makes any difference to our parents." He said bitterly.

He was angry with his parents and hers' as well. They had treated them like a piece of dirt and he knew that they deserved better.

"My papa would understand and forgive us." she tried consoling herself rather than answering him.

"Yeah. And Hitler had siesta with Jews. How long are you going to fool yourself?"

"How long can they hate us? I am their daughter and they love me."

"Do you even realize that they were going to get you married to someone you never knew just for the sake of society and pride?"

"Almost every second parent does that in our country. Your parents were not an exception as well."

"Well, mine were the second parents in this case."

They smiled weakly at this remark. He ran his fingers and adjusted her hair behind her ear. They knew that the first few months were going to be very tough emotionally and financially.

"You should have been living in a castle like a queen. Look at you now." He felt guilty.

"You dont understand. Its not a castle that makes a women a queen."

"Then what makes a women feel.....queenly?"

"Its....." she moved near him slowly and kissed him gently on his lips. "The King".

"That’s so corny" smiled Chottu seated on back of the car referring to a lyrics of a love song played on the radio.

The bearded man got irritated and lowered the volume. He sat upright as if he was going to deliver a sermon.

"Remember. As much as possible dont use the gun. It has to be used only if you find them out of your reach. Use your knife."

"But knife is so crude. And why should we use a knife when we have a gun?" asked Chottu still itching from using the gun in his hand.

"Because a knife is silent. Also, knife causes more pain. I want to see them shiver with pain and fear before they die." The beaded man mentally pictured killing them with his bare hands.

"I can understand your anger for the boy. But we can abduct the girl right? After all she is your relative."

"Dont even talk about that bitch. She ditched our family for that useless bastard. It will serve as a lesson for all the girls in the family. Also a reminder for the boys to stay away from our girls."He winked as if he had just shared the joke of the year.

Chottu made a mental note to check if any girl he loved or pretended to love had such crackpot relatives.

The man with the scar smiled to himself. After all this, people still called him savage for his grizzly appearance and behaviour.

These bastards were killing their own daughters and sons in the name of honor. Ironically, man had invented all possible gadgets and covered himself with fashionable attire, but still the age-old animal instinct to kill and relish was left untouched inside.

"Dont you think that the police will trace you? After all, your family will now be the direct accomplice in this case." asked Chottu as if he had just passed Bar exam in Loyola.

"Hmm. How many cases in India do you think get delivered hailing truth and justice? In most cases the accused and accuser die out of depression and old age. And the rich in jails are supplied everything including carnal pleasure. The police might be hot on trail for one week. The news channels will run it for 2 weeks. By third week, the public will be looking at some other hot murder like this or forget it in midst of an Indian team's victory over Bangladesh. So you can jump with joy and say "Fuck the justice system.""

"Hmmm. Sounds logical to me. Hey, what is that?"

"Thats salt. If I am not wrong, you add sugar when you make tea. Maybe your dad adds salt in his tea."

He made no secret of his hatred for her dad. Her dad had sent some gundas and got him roughed up in a hospital for only talking to his beloved daughter. And that is when he also started to fish out for grooms outside the city who did not know about his daughter's love affairs. And even if they did, the heavy dowry, Jewels and Maruti Swift car should make him forget it.

"You have never laid your foot in your kitchen, have you?"

"Except when I wanted fresh and hot parathas."

She missed her mom and her parathas. Her mom would miss her too. Atleast she thought she would. How many women even had a say in such a savage society?

He came and hugged her from behind. He knew that she missed her parents and he wanted to make her forget the pain. Forget the anxiety. Time as they say is the best healer.

"Hey, what’s the name of the theatre near our house?" he asked trying to change the mood.

"Alankar" said chotu.

"There it is." said the man with the beard. It was dilapidated theatre with possibly 10, 20 Rs tickets and where old hindi movies with sleazy titles used to run.

"Did you see the name of the movie running there?"

"No. Do you think we are here to watch some stupid yuppie flick?"

"Well. Ironically, it is called I hate Love stories."

He winked and laughed uncontrollably. The bearded man gave him a beastly look which promptly shut him up. They parked their jeep outside the shop next to the theatre and walked towards their "spot".

"So, are we all clear as to what we need to do?"

"Well. I hope to get that accountant's job for which I interviewed yesterday. The Manager seemed quite happy."

"Yeah. Lets hope we move out of this dungeon soon."

"Then we will enrol you in some college here."

"Why? You don’t want me to work?"

"No. Your mom wanted you to have Master's degree. Atleast someday when we show up at their door with a Master's degree and a kid, it should make them happy."

"You know, even after all this shit, you want to make them happy?" she asked quite relieved.

"Well. I hope someday we all live in peace. After all, everybody's life is short. And why make it shorter with anger, grudge and hatred."

"You know, I think of this and this song comes to my mind. Tum Bhi Chalo Hum bhi chalen"

They start singing together

"Chalti rahe zindagi.

Naa Zameen Manzil Aasmaan....

Zindagi hai...

Zindagi..."

They smile and embrace each other.

They hear someone knock on the door.

She walks to the front door and opens it.

Goodbye Thanksgiving!

2011-02-10T22:36:00.007-05:00

“Stop!” he yelled.

She sped out of their room, unmindful.

“You are dead, my lady!” He screamed, sounding venomous.

“Why do you think I got a house on this haunted hill 50 miles from the city?”

His words hardly reached her, when a shovel plowed into her head and painfully split her skull into two.

Dead.

It was thanksgiving for the entire neighborhood. But he had no smoked turkey, just a dead wife.

His eyes fell on her wedding ring. That’s when he noticed her open palm holding on to a call dialed to 911.

The police siren grew nearer.

-By Harish & Preethi

P.S: Thanks to Priya for introducing us to Magpie.

Inheritance of loss

2011-02-07T01:52:00.008-05:00

"I am sorry for your loss." said the visitor. I did not know who he was, but then given the circumstances, I was neither concerned nor interested in knowing his whereabouts.

I saw him walk to the hall with a rose garland. She didn't like roses much, but anyway it did not matter now. He lay it on the glass casing enclosing her body and offered his condolences to my wife. My wife who was seated below the casing had probably dried out crying ever since the whole incident had come to light.

She had reasoned with god, then pleaded with him, fought with him, cursed him and just as every other human being, she just relegated to rejection. Our entire system of faith hinges on a tiny thread of hope and this very gruesome incident not just shook our's but also many of our relatives and well wishers hopes as well.

You could call me a creep for saying this, but I noticed failingly, that inspite of all the grief in the eyes of the people who came to offer condolences, I could spot a tiny fragment of relief. A relief that this did not happen to their son or daughter. You can sympathize with me, but its human nature to just feel safe telling yourself "Thank god, it was not me or my family.". No offence meant, but thats the truth. A bitter one, but still true enough.

I had not cried for the past 2 days. When the search was on initially, I did cry. I was furious. But then as the man of the house, I had to show resilience. Not that it was going to bring back my lovely daughter back. But just enough that it does not bereave me of my only left possession- my wife. Poor soul. Till that very fateful moment the news broke out, she had been one charming woman whose smile could wipe away all your fears. This just wiped everything out. Everything.

I felt pretty sick in my stomach. Laboriously, I traced my steps to the bedroom on the first floor. The room had not been visited in these past 2 days. Every morning, I used to come here to wake my little angel. I loved watching her sleep. She seemed so blissful and happy even in her sleeping posture.

Till she came into my life, I had not known that you could love someone even when they were in deep sleep unaware of your presence. The giant Pooh doll that she hugged every night lay orphaned in one corner of the bed with its arms outstretched as if waiting for her embrace. The room was filled with her photos right from her day 1 on earth till the annual sports day that happened about 2 weeks before....it ended.

My gaze fixed on a collage that we prepared for her first birthday. It consisted of her journey right from her mother's bump, till her last birthday. My god! How she had grown in front of my own eyes and I never realized it. For every parent, their wards remain children even after graying out. Her little brown eyes looked deep into me and peeking into my soul asked me "Where were you when I needed you." I felt impotent. Bloody impotent.

I still imagine how surreal it was when I held her for the first time in my hands. She was wrapped in a white cloth and looked peaceful in deep sleep. Her fist was the size of my thumb and yet it seemed as if she led me around rather than the other way around. It was for the first time, I had experienced tears of joy. I did not want her to taste my salty tears and wiped them off the corner of shirt. Little did I know that 11 years later, I would find her body immersed in salty pond water.

Having a baby was a cause for celebration. We had celebrations for her first step, her first illegible "amma", her first day at school etc. We were proud of her in every other way. Not only was she a well behaved girl, but also well read. Her teachers openly envied us at the parents teachers meeting and she would just blush when they heaped encomiums on her. Her happiness was to celebrated with scoopfuls of strawberry ice creams and her sadness was divided with hugs, promises and lullabies. Now there was no one to hug. No one to sing a lullaby. Nothing to promise.

She could have had an excellent academic career. Who knows, she might have been the next Nooyi or Sudha Murthy. She would have made a lovely caring wife and mother. Everything was doomed. Everything was destroyed. There was nothing worth living.

I read about her killer's 'encounter' incident (one policeman shot that bastard while on way to court). Curiously, people ask me if I am relieved or happy. I dont know, but its mixed emotions. I know her death has been avenged, but will it bring my lovely daughter back? Some human rights activists claim that the encounter was brutal and uncalled for. Who the fuck gives them authority to judge right and wrong?

Atleast someone had compassion. Someone had a sense of justice. Maybe the policeman had a daughter and he felt our pain. I am not trying to say "an eye for an eye" is right, but where is justice today? An accomplice to the murder of the former Prime Minister of this country is languishing in jail still. An attacker whose antics were seen by the whole world on tape for 3 days in Mumbai is making mockery of the whole judicial system. Why should I believe that my daughter's loss would be rightfully and legally settled?

Feeling angry, I just turned my head around and found a CD we had recorded during a session where the parents were invited to the school. All students were invited to give a talk on their future ambitions. As her turn came, she walked gracefully to the stage and I recorded her every movement to the podium. She talked about her dream of working at ISRO. For some reason, she was obsessed with Space research and stars and quite ironically she ended up being one.

Her teacher asked "So, do you harbor any dreams to go to the space? Or say the moon?"

She looked at the camera. For one faint instant, I felt that she was looking at me for an answer. Her deep brown eyes now seemed to have broken the barrier of TV and seemed to question my soul.

As I watched it now at this wretched moment, I remembered her answer. I got a lump in my throat. All the emotions that I had held for the last 2 days poured from my eyes and I was sobbing uncontrollably like a child.

In midst of my wails and tears, she answered

"No Madam. I don’t want to leave my parents and go very far."

Nothing that Rajni Kant

2010-10-10T21:19:00.005-04:00

Q. What do you call a magnetic force that attracts everyone and everybody from wheel-chair bound old men to kids who can barely say "mummy"?

A. Rajnikanth

The man with magnetism in his name and eyes does it and how? If you thought that the Sivaji canvas was huge for a Rajni film, Enthiran multiplies it by 100 and delivers staggering results. Like Cameron baby-sat his pet project Avatar, Shankar did the same with this project. It changed hands from Kamal Hassan to Ajit (seriously?) to SRK and finally to Mr. Magnet. If SRK thought this was a half-baked script, you are tempted to ask him if he dozed off during the narration of Rab Ne bana di jodi or My Name is Khan.

So lets start with the story. Oh Cmon! Who am I kidding? Do you really give a rats ass about a story in a Rajni film? But for freshness sake, this film does have a solid reason and delivers well (Thanks to Late great Sujatha). As a norm in Shankar's film, the hero is shown normally without any intro song or fanfare. (But there are some useless souls in Kolywood who would not abolish it even after Siva kicked it left right and center in Tamil Padam.)

The special effects are wonderfully done and it shows where Mr. Maaran's money went. We know that Sun Network has this dubious standard of praising its own movies on their channels. I mean, come on, Thillalangadi at No 1 for so long? The film is possibly "running succesfully" in your nearby VCD shop. But you have to say that their promotional antics for Enthiran has paid wonderful results. When Ms Rai kissed Mr Rajni on screen, one guy from the back shouted "Rajni Khabardaar!!" and the whole theatre erupted in laughter.

Even though the initial robot design reminded me of IRobot, the rest of the film and its reasoning reminds you that it has an Indian heart and mind. Some of the dialgoues in the film remind you of typical Sujatha touches and evoked claps from the audience. For a reasonably good actor, Danny Denzongpa was wasted. He makes his exit like some useless extra, but then with Robot2.0 around, you don't care.

Ms. Ash looks gorgeous for sure. But why did I get the feeling that towards the climax she looked more like an accomplice-in-two-minds rather than the typical damsel-in-distress? To be fair to Mr ARR, the songs looked good on screen but you don't remember them much later. Of course, Shankar's imagination and Ratnavelu's camera do the rest of the trick. Resul Pookutty's work is evident when you can hear the minute motor sounds when the Robot moves its parts.

If you have about 200 crores to splash on a movie, Mr Shankar is your go-to man. It is evident why he is the highest paid director in the country. The man has an amazing imagination and he just raises the bar for himself, but leaps it way above and beyond making you wonder "what will he do next?". Rightfully, he should be christened as the "James Cameron of India". By now if you have not heard about Enthiran's "Baap of all climaxes", its possible that you might have been away on a vacation to Afghanistan. It is evident that he has made suitable changes to suit Rajni's image, but it is also praiseworthy that he has preserved the spirit of the movie intact.

And now to the man himself. Rajni. Most of us might be fortunate enough to be fit to touch our own ass at 61 for morning duties. This man kicks ass at 61. Not only does he jump, dance, fight and multiply with elan, but he also lives the coveted dream of shooting with his index finger. All the Little, Vente,Grande Super stars, Young and Old captains, Ultimate and Penultimate stars can hang their dreams of occupying his coveted throne to rest. You should not be surprised if someday Meena's daughter plays his heroine. Sometimes you wonder if he is really the original "Curious case of Benjamin Button" guy.

Anyone who has seen Rajni's older movies will agree that Rajni the antagonist could steal the thunder from any hero worth his salt in his heyday. No wonder Shankar chose to give lot of screen time to the "badass" Robot 2.0 and boy, the theatre went beserk. Any other actor might have made it over-the-top, but Rajni owns it so well, that you wish you could see more of him on screen. Not only does he shine as the innocent and badass robot, but also overtakes the usually-reliable Santhanam in comedy scenes.

All the other douche bags can go ahead and release their whatever they can for Diwali. Who cares? Its arrived in style when Mr 2.0 thundered "Happy Diwali Folks" with Bang. In Style.

Loved this trailer btw :)

3 Idiots

2010-09-28T21:03:00.007-04:00

3 Idiots is the latest offering from maverick producer Manmohanji. Initially the film was acted and directed by its lead Suresh Jilmadi, but he was doing a fucked up job with both and producer Manmohan had no choice but to take the reins in his own hands. As usual with any bollywood production, the release date was announced 6 years earlier and the makers are still scrambling to get the film out on date. If you are scratching your head as to what the hell were these guys doing for 6 longs years, then you can join the queue with Head and Shoulders.

The story takes off with our protagonists M S Jill and Lalit Jhanot searching for their long lost friend and mentor Jilmadi. Jilmadi went into hiding after the CWG fiasco and since then they have been looking out in every nook and corner of the country for the bugger. Well, if you think they are doing this out of brotherly love, you might as well believe that Tiger woods was gay. Jill and Jhanot want their share of the common wealth that they looted during commonwealth (kudos to whoever names it aptly).

The movie begins sensationally when their friend-turned-foe Chatur Ramalingam (played astutely by Mani Shankar Jaiyar) tells them that he knows the whereabouts of Jilmadi. Immediately Jhanot runs along and hops in a taxi without wearing his pants. For 6 scenes you see the guy all around in his pink undies and wonder "Why the hell you dont get a pants?". But that is where the Director lends his touch (or the lack of it assuming he isnt gay).

In a later stage of the movie Jhanot quips "The westerners standards of hygiene is different from Indians." You are not surprised that it comes from him as he is seen in his undies (pink ones especially) most of the time, eats without washing his hands and poops in open public places. His performance can be summed up grandly in one small word - SHITTY.

Coming back to the story, Jill and Jhanot take us on a flashback tour where along with Jilmadi, they were officials in our parliament and their merry money-making times where they installed equipments worth few lakhs and billed us for crores. The Director's clever usage of the song "Golmaal hai bhai sab golmaal hai" to show their early days is noteworthy. Jilmadi always remained the top dog of the group as he knew his way of dealing things and doing it his way (read it as screwing it up). The ROCKY type build-up to Jilmadi's Olympic preparation ends in a whimper when the country wins a solitary gold medal from a country of 1 billion in the Olympics. But nevertheless Jilmadi and his pals are showing partying in a pub in the next scene as if they had just conquered North pole.

During the process of the CWG, Jilmadi has a love-hate track with Sheila Dixit. The director makes them sing a duet Zoobi Zoobi amidst potholes and craters making us think that it was shot in moon. But anyone wise enough can understand that the song was shot cheaply on the roads of Mumbai and Delhi with shoddy graphics. Sheila has an emotional role and she does her part well even ignoring Jilmadi at times.

Her emotional dialogue as "The bridge that collapsed was for the public and not the athletes was well received with thunderous applause by the public. That confirmed our long-lasting doubt that the government does not care a rat's ass about the tax paying public's useless life. Come on, in a country of a billion, do they care if few hundreds of us die in a terrorist attack or train accident or bridge collapse?

Jilmadi had showcased his comedy side in a few scenes and they are done well. The moment he thunders in the press conference that "The CWG has world class facilities on par with Beijing" is followed by the collapse of the bridge. It is copied from Johnny English, but nevertheless it makes you wish why these son-of-the-guns were not under that bridge when it collapsed.

Jill is like the Sarathbabu of tamil movies. No matter what he does, he is always shadowed in supporting roles. IN the movie "Election Commission", he played hero TN Seshan's useless sidekick. The scenes where he gets trashed by Manmohan in coarse and profane Punjabi is sure to raise cat whistles in the theater.

And now we come to our main performer Jilmadi. No doubt that this guy is an actor class apart. Oh come on, we are not able to stand one accusation, and this guy is like the bed rock of controversy. Reportedly, Kamal Hassan is receiving his coaching to play a corrupt politician in his next movie "Pakka Thirudan". His emotional outburst that he will not quit even if the games are bombed was so wonderful that the lady next to me blew her nose with my shirt. Betting circles are buzzing with Jilmadi's chances to win an Oscar next year.

Music director Rahman disappoints with his music score. But then you cant blame him, when the script itself is shoddy. The song "All is well" sung in midst of bridge collapses, broken beds, angry outbursts and scandals is an ode to Indian voting public. The only concern is that when this film would be released, almost half the delhi is expected to be flying to HongKong and Singapore and it is expected that the relatives of the officials bribed by quarter and biriyaani might fill up the stands.

I was tempted initially to not give the spoiler-ending of this movie, but then as an Indian voting public you should not be surprised. Chatur takes Jill and Jhanot to a neighborhood country which is hosting some sort of international games event. They find half built stadiums, broken bridges and scandals just few days away from event. It does not require an Einstein to figure out that such an 'efficient' effort can belong to none, but to Jilmadi. They all unite together and steal happily ever after.....

But then, as Jilmadi croons and we the amazing Indian public know......All is indeed well. :)

இப்படி சொன்னா எப்படி?

2010-07-29T09:56:00.009-04:00

காற்பந்து முடிஞ்சாலும் அதுக்கு சம்பந்தமே இல்லாத ஹீரோ பாலுடைய புகழ் மங்கவில்லை. ஒரு வேளை பாலை நம்ம ஊருக்கு கடத்திவந்தா அவரை வெச்சு எப்படி பிசினஸ் பண்ணலாம்??

உலக கோப்பைக்கு இன்னும் கொஞ்ச நாள் தான் இருக்கு, ஆனா நம்ம பசங்க விளையாடறதை பார்த்தா உலக கோப்பையை விடுங்க, நமக்கு வெண்கல கிண்ணம் கூட கிடைக்காது போல இருக்கே :(

ஆனாலும் ஒபாமா ரொம்ப பாவம். ஒரு மனுஷனுக்கு சோகம் வரலாம், ஆனா சோகமே வாழ்க்கை மாறினதுக்கு இவருக்கு தான். ஒன்னு மாத்தி ஒன்னு விடாம யாராவது அவரை படுத்தறாங்க.

Craig Ferguson சொன்னது போல்
By this point, the gulf of mexico "spill" not even an 'oil spill' anymore. Spill is a little accident that can easily be cleaned up. Calling this a 'spill' is like calling World War II a 'tiff.'

ஹ்ம்ம்...நம்ம ஊரா இருந்தா ஒரு இட ஒதுக்கீடு அறிவிச்சுட்டு நிம்மதியா இருக்கலாம். (புரியாதவர்கள் WIKILEAKS பற்றி படிக்கவும்)

ஒரு மனஷனுக்கு எப்படி எல்லாம் வாழ்வு வருது பாருங்க. சன் பிச்சர்ஸ் எடுத்த "வெற்றிகரமான" வேட்டைக்காரன், சுறா நடிச்சு கொஞ்ச நாள் படுத்த மாட்டார்னு பாத்தா, ஷங்கர் திடீர்னு "3 Idiots" ரீமேக் பண்றதா சொல்லிட்டார்.

அது எப்படிங்க படம் ரிலீசான அடுத்த நாளே "சூப்பர் ஹிட்" போஸ்டர் ஓட்டறாங்க? ஒரு வேளை அது Templateஆ இருக்குமோ :P. ரீமேக் படம் எடுக்க தான் ஏற்கனவே "ரீமேக்" ராஜா இருக்கார். ஹ்ம்ம்...ஆட்டம் ஜாஸ்தி ஆய்டுமே.

Easier with practice

2010-04-13T04:15:00.004-04:00

"I think we are standing on the wrong side of pavement."

I could sense that my wife's blood pressure and patience were exactly at opposite levels.

"Why do you think so?"

"There is a zig-zag yellow line here which is an indication that cabs should not stop and pick any passenger."

"You are telling me after walking for close to 10 minutes on this road?"

"I could tell you if you would LISTEN to me."

This is what happens when I try to do something right. All I wanted was to take her home cosy and comfortable in a taxi and just as Mr. Murphy's law states, you happen to spot a taxi exactly when you don’t want it. And perhaps, we all know that men are poor when it comes to asking for directions.

"Even if we had taken the bus, we would have been half way near our home."

See, that’s the point. Immediately she derives a calculation out of thin air that we would have got the bus on time to our place, we would get seats and also with minimal traffic, we would be halfway down to our house. My argument is - what are the odds? And also, I am not comfortable carrying 2 bag-full of groceries in either hand. That’s when I did the unthinkable error.

I retorted her.

"Why are you making a big deal out of this? Is it my fault that there is no taxi on the road now?"

And she immediately appears stung. Her eyes moisten a little and you can spot the water in her eyes like a mirage in the desert. I sometimes wonder how fast women get their tear glands to respond.

"You should have married Vanitha."

Ah! There we go. And now I get married to Vanitha for not getting a cab. Before you all get driven to nuts, let me explain who on earth is Mrs. Vanitha. She is possibly some secretly inherited descendent of Hitler. Or maybe Idi Amin. She is possibly one of the few women on earth whom you would not even want your most secret adversary to get married to.

My wife, the quintessential gossiper she is (aren’t we all?), likes to narrate me Mrs. Vanitha's strict order in the house where no extra oil or butter is allowed to be consumed or when children have to ask permission for everything. I wonder if her children religiously shout "Hail Fuhrer" before going to bed.

You can imagine the predicament of her husband. I once met the couple when we were doing our weekend family shopping. Her husband was a small man with head in the shape of an Easter egg. He had a small mustache and a sorry looking face like a Lehman Brother's shareholder or an Indian voter.

So, which brings to realize why women always compare with the worst lot available? Have you ever heard any women say, "You should have married Tammana or Shriya."? Absolutely not! Its always a Mrs. Vanitha or your next door neighbour who infact looks and behaves closer to the witch described in Harry Potter.

Have you heard any man complain or compare on the same lines? Imagine how it would be if Bill Clinton were to fight with Hillary - "You should have married Bush. Your life would have been filled with correcting grammatical and pronunciation mistakes." That’s least likely possible. Why? Because men are egoistic and would not let their muse out of their control even in words. But yeah, that does not rule out the possibility of the same guy doing a Tiger Woods routine.

"Look, just calm down. I will call the speed taxi number ok?" I was trying my best to do damage control.

"And who will pay the extra charge? If you had been with Lalitha who orders a taxi every time she goes out, you would have understood, how better off you are."

I had to stop this nonsense before she planned grandkids for me and some Ms. Lalitha. And just as I wondered, an empty taxi stopped nearby. I was waving madly like the guard did when Titanic hit iceberg. I think he stopped possibly to check if I was having seizure than to pick me up.

We travelled throughout the ride without a word uttered between us. If the taxi driver was a bachelor, he was probably planning to remain one for the rest of his life, after watching our marital spark. We watched some mindless comedy on TV without bothering to laugh much for next hour or so. It was a question of who would break the ice.

Just as we looked at each other, we said in unison "I am sorry."

It’s probably little hard. It’s probably very easy.

It comes - easier with practice.

The last time I saw my waist

2010-03-02T10:58:00.009-05:00

They say that shopping and eating are best stress busters. So I decided to shop for food.

I stopped outside the gates of the grand hotel in front of me. Had I gone mad? Maybe. Is something wrong with me? Very much.

I walked straight past the gates. Infact, I was the only one walking past it, as the rest were in their installment-paid cars with their dysfunctional families. A Maharaja suit clad Guard ushered me in, suspiciously. No, I am not going to tip him for sure. My tip fees is a generous Rs 2, and that too if the waiter fills the extra sambhar or Kuruma without any hint of sarcasm or contempt.

The Indian eatery was in the second floor. As I pushed open the door, an amazing fragrance enveloped me – one of fresh Indian spices overpowering the sandalwood incense sticks at the welcome counter. I quickly scanned the room to find out if any of my friends or relatives were seated. Our clan comes to such places courtesy - a generous treat. But then, they haven’t read about Murphy's law, have they?

A low decibel Pandit Shiv Prasad Sharma’s flute rendition was played to a rich unmindful crowd. The lights were dim enough to grab the Manager by collar and ask him if he had misappropriated the funds for his mistress. But then that’s the way things work. Less noise and light in a restaurant means more money to be shelled and vice-versa. The Devar's parotta stall in my vicinity plays songs so loud that you wish they could provide a piece of ear plugs with the parotta and salna.

I sat in a corner table for two and put my bag on the other seat to prevent any intrusion. The big room had just 25-30 people – each wrapped in his own niche. The waiter handed me a menu card long enough to qualify as my nephew’s cricket bat. After brushing through two pages worth of the hotel’s history and its worldwide branches, I finally got to the menu. Soups were listed at a minimum price of Rs 100. My middle class conscience involuntarily forced me to flip pages and check the main course items. Yeah, I was preparing to going down royally, but still...

The items were vaguely named. Infact none of them made any sense to me. One especially caught my attention - Shahi Murgi per Amulya makhan. Why can’t it be as straight as butter chicken? Going around your head to touch your nose just doesn’t seem to work with food, particularly when ordering. Another one in dessert read The last time I saw my waist. Some smart ass decided to include a footnote which read - 1 scoop vanilla, 1 scoop chocolate and 1 scoop raspberry decorated with Almond and nuts. Yeah right. Eat this on a regular basis and you could have a waistline to warrant a pair of maternity stretch-on pants. I guess these hotels have employed 3/4 people to cook and other 1/4 to think of such whacky and stupid names to confuse the customer.

Butter chicken? Why did I have to remind myself about her when all I wanted and came here for was to forget her?

Why can’t I let go off Adhira?

Adhira. The lovely but torn chapter of my unscrupulous life.

-----------------------------

"What do you want to order?"

"Anything that you want."

"No. Tell me something. I don’t want to force something of my choice on you."

"Don’t try to be too chivalrous."

"I am not chivalrous. I am just trying to be....sensible. And so I insist."

"Ok. Then it is Butter chicken."

Judging from her perfect figure, you might guess that all she has for lunch is a bowl of salad with a cup of green tea. But Adhira loved Butter chicken. Infact, it was possibly the only thing she loved more than herself. You could wake her up in the middle of a night and offer her a piece of butter chicken and she might just lick it till the bone and doze back without a "Thank You".

During every other visit to the hotel, it was butter chicken and Vanilla Caramel Icecream with almonds. For the past 6 months that I have known her and with all that butter chicken and icecream, she still manages to remain slim. With 2 chapathis sans ghee, boiled oats for dinner and 45 mins of gym, I struggle into my size 36 pants. Some people are indeed lucky, aren’t they?

"So how come momma's boy is skipping his delicious home made lunch?"

"I told her that I was going for a corporate treat. She still doesn’t realise that I work with stingy bastards who would not spare Rs 5 and get me a single cup of tea."

(giggles) "But you seem spendthrift. Doesn’t this thing (showing the dead chicken's legs) cost much more than your budget?"

"When did I tell you that this chicken was bred in my backyard? I guess you should probably marry a broiler farm owner."

"You never know. You know that I love chicken."

"If you had a choice between a broiler farm owner or Ice cream parlor owner, what would you do?"

"Is there any rule that I should marry only one of them?"

"Legally as per the Hindu marriage act..."

"Oh...stop that bakwaas yaar. Otherwise it might be your leg in my hand instead of the chicken's."

Adhira was the only child of a rich Mallu couple. Since her parents were more modern and educated, they bred Adhira as a young, free-spirited girl. She waltzed past to her room at any point in the night and no one would question her. It was a far cry from my house where my mother still asks me a detailed monthly account (which of course is forged) and frequently checks my room for any traces of cigarette or anything illegal. Prior to being with me, Adhira had encountered 2 break ups as the guys found her too tough to handle.

Possibly in a relationship, she loved being the guy and viceversa.

-----------------------------------------------

"Your order Sir."

"One Lajawaab Matar Pulao and Panner Makhni."

It had been days since I had dined alone. The sudden loneliness engulfed and saddened me. I took out my mobile phone and just looked at my contact list and scrolled it back and forth wondering whom to call. Finally, I stopped it as it was freaking me out. I wanted to talk to someone but decided against it. The last thing I needed was a detailed lecture on securing a relationship.

What I did today morning was surely not right, but maybe it was....too late.

------------------------------------------------

"You cannot say no to you friend?"

"I can’t. We have been pals since college. He would kill me for missing his marraige."

"And what happened to the promise you made me?"

"We will go next week. Shahrukh is not running anywhere. See, even in the poster, he is standing still and stiff with Kajol." (showing a MNIK poster)

"No jokes. You could have atleast asked me or told me. I booked tickets already."

"Don’t worry. You can go with your mom if you like."

"Did I ask for your expert advice on this?"

-------------------------------------------------------

Would you believe me if I told you that this non-descript conversation listed above led to an India Pakistan fight and our break-up? I know you would not. Ok, then just do one thing. Try to rewind back and check about any possible fight with your partner/lover sometime back? Was it a really unsolvable issue that led to a fight?

All issues which lead to a fight/breakup, are NOT the actual issues. The issues are always hidden. Does America really fight in Afghanistan to free Afghan people from clutches of Taliban? If two neighbourhood kids fight among themselves for a toy, it is indeed for a toy.

But if the same kid's parents fight amongst themselves over the same issue, it is possibly for something else.

Maybe it’s the jealousy of one guy over another's newly bought Mahindra Scorpio against his rusted Bajaj Chetak. Or possibly an old issue where the woman of the house refused a cup of sugar. Or possibly some age old fight over the fence wall. In most cases, it is possibly one’s reflection of his/her incompetence against the others. Bottom-line, it’s NOT the toy.

The fight that we had today morning is on the same lines. While you can attribute her irritation to my meekness, mine was possibly at the pent up anger over her dominance and ridicule at my middle class peculiarities. It’s strange how adults find themselves incompatible in few moments of friction compared against the hours or days or months spent in finding out the similarities when in love.

I know that I am wrong somewhere. All it takes is a Re 1 call to her mobile and a simple "Sorry".

Well, if only telling Sorry had been so easy.....

"Sir. Anything for dessert?" said the waiter relieving me thankfully from my introspection.

Not in a mood to think too much, I asked "What’s special today?"

"Vanilla Caramel with Almonds."

Rain with Thundershowers

2010-02-14T02:39:00.007-05:00

"And before we close on the days proceedings, lets have a weather roundabout with our own Handsome hunk Rajiv. Rajiv, so whats the weather like today?"

Rajiv grabbed his tie's half-windsor knot and shook his head little bit as much as one shakes a salt can over tomato soup. It was a habit he had idolized after watching Pierce Brosnan grab his tie underwater in "The World is not Enough".

"The weather is surprisingly pleasant today. Even though Chennai is supposed to be notoriously summer-type hot starting from February, today should be much of an exception. So today is a good day when you should not be worried about the Sun god radiating his anger all over you. Its possibly a good time to give your umbrella a miss. These are the temperatures in the major cities around the country."

Rajiv read the temperatures from the green matt screen behind him. As he finished reciting the temperatures, Rajiv smiled and finished "Thats all for today. Have a great day ahead." It was the same infectious smile that had sent teenage girls to feel dizzy on their feet and housewives to forget Ekta Kapoors six-packed, plastic heroes and fantasize him.

"So Rajiv, what plans for V-Day? Your house must be filled with letters written in blood and filled with kisses." News Anchor Ram always loved his conversations with Rajiv to be laden with as much sarcasm as possible.

It was partly friendly and partly stomach burning which could not be resolved with even tons of Eno or Gelusil.Even though they were of nearly the same age, Ram looked like father of 2 school going kids and Rajiv could be mistaken for a college dropout.

"No Ram. That used to be in your good old days. All I get now are emails filled with obscene, censored details of girl's vital statistics and her details and exploits if I were to oblige which could make Vatsayana's Kamasutra feel like nursery rhymes."

For reasons unknown, Rajiv loved making Ram feel jealous. Part of it was due to his inability to grab the lead news anchor role from Ram and part of it was Ram's proximity to his secret love - Rachna.

The mere thought of her name sent happy signals from his brain to his lips and they widened obligingly. He changed over to normal clothes and decided to grab some coffee at the nearest Coffee day outlet in Isphani Center. He drove his black Pulsar 180 to Isphani and found a parking space without much fuss. It was still early morning in Chennai but the Sun seemed to have had a faulty alarm clock and hence woke up early before schedule.

As Rajiv walked over to his regular seat (creature of habit you see), he grabbed the day's newspaper from the backpack before deciding to order something. Just then, from the corner of his eye, he saw her - Rachna. Again, brain to Lips. She saw him simultaneously and smiled. He walked over to her place and saw her reading "The White Tiger".

Rachna was Rajiv's news co-anchor and he was secretly in love with her. She was prettily dressed in a comfortable Levis Jeans and Globus tops. Even though Rajiv had been admiring her for the past 1 odd-year, he could still not take his eyes off her.

"So what brings the weather man down here?"

"Some impending headache and lots of love for Coffee."

Her smile just widened. "Can you get me a Macchiato?" he said trying to place an order.

"Have you ever tried Chococinno? Its a delicious mixture of Cholocate ice and Hot coffee. Maybe you should try it."

He smiled and placed order for a Chococinno secretly worrying about the side effects if it were to be horrible. He made a note to himself to smile and say "WOW" after drinking it even if it were to taste like cowdung. He was not sure if she was "suggesting" the drink or testing him if he would oblige her. But then, it was Rachna. If she were to ask, he would even Join the Shiv Sena and campaign and vote for Balasaheb. And maybe even tear and burn few Shahrukh

posters (Well, arent we bored of reading the cliched "bring sun,moons and stars." :P)

"Have you read this book, Rajiv?"

The only White tigers Rajiv knew were the ones caged in some forest in Gujarat. He knew about books as much as Indian Politicians knew about honesty and integrity. Forcing a smile, he nodded his head "Nope. Never had time to read it. Is it good?"

"Its dark. I mean, its about the pathetic state of our country..."

Rajiv was half-listening. He was gazing star-struck at her eyes, curved eye-lashes, the medium sized bindi on her forehead (which matched her tops), her lips which had a subtle hint of lipstick applied exactly between dried-out and cheap-looking.

"....how we are messing up with it told through the eyes of the protagonist." The in-between lines were obviously missed in Rachna-gazing.

"Thats good. Think I should read that." He replied.

"You mean good that the country is messed up is good?" She sounded like she was going to shoot him for sounding like a Paki General.

Caught on the wrong foot, he smiled and replied "I mean, the point of view. Better than reading some Jingoistic stuff." Gosh, how difficult it is to pay attention to what a beautiful lady is saying while you are measuring her beauty.

"So what plans for V-day?" She suddenly changed the topic.

Rajiv almost spilled the Chococinno all over himself and turning into Chocolate Man . If it were to be a hollywood chick flick, he could have comfortably retorted dreamy eyed "Just to keep looking at you."

Well, this was no chick flick and Rajiv was not Hugh Grant. "Well. Not much. Its a sunday, so I guess, I could wake up late and maybe catch up some movie. Have you seen Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?"

"Yes. What about it?"

"There is this line which Jim Carrey says "February 14 is a holiday invented by greeting card companies to make people feel like crap.""

She smiled."You dont believe in love, do you?"

"Well. Does it matter?"

"Doesnt it?

"To whom?"

"Who do you think?"

"Why are you so interested?"

"Why should'nt be I interested?"

She looked him deep into his eyes. It was as if she was peeking into his soul feeling him from within.

"I was afraid."

"Afraid of what? she asked.

"What if......it was a no?"

"What if it was a yes?"

His heart skipped a beat.

For an instant, it rained in Sahara. Ranganathan street became empty on a weekend evening. Mumbai had no potholes. Haiti stopped having earthquakes. Shimla became warmer. There was no fog in Delhi. Mayavati stopped unveiling her own statues. Salman Khan started wearing shirts. Karunanidhi's grandchildren stopped jumping to politics or Cinema. Bal and Raj Thackerey got Pakistani citizenship and relocated there with their Sena.

The world seemed to stop spinning and seemed a better place. Well...not better...a very beautiful place.

They started walking outside where his bike and her car were coincidentally parked side-by-side.

"How long?"

"Probably as long or before you have liked me."

"You never told."

"Neither did you."

"Why today?"

"Why not today?

They saw some overcast shadows above.

As few rain drops fell on them, Rajiv remembered that his forecast had gone wrong. And it was not just about rain. Their love had also arrived sooner than he expected.

She asked "Does the weather forecast for the day say rain with thundershowers?"

"Does it matter?"

"Doesnt it?"

Short Term Memory Loss

2009-12-31T01:22:00.002-05:00

Dear Ammi

Hope you and abba are doing fine. I know that there have been no letters from my side, but then it took me some time to expel the fear of death which was sticking to my mind like a lizard on a wall . Since I am sure that nothing would happen to me from now judging from the current course of events, I decided that this was the right time to invite our family to visit me in India.

Yes, you read it right. I am inviting you all here. All you have to do is take a plane from Multan to Mumbai and we can possibly meet here in the jail premises. I know that it is not the most ideal place to meet your son, but you have to understand that this phase will be over pretty soon and we will all be together as a happy family. I feared nothing less than death since I was caught, but it has to be said that it seems impossible now.

Contrary to what has been portrayed by my Jihadi brothers, the Indians are very courteous and nice. Imagine, which country will feed its perpetrators with 4 square meals food, shelter him, give media coverage (which can be used for my marriage alliance J) and also hesitate to take any concrete action? It happens ONLY in India. Imagine what would have happened if any Indian terrorist had been caught bombing our country? We would have announced war on India immediately and dialled our US brothers to supply as many arms as possible for the holy war.

And what about the caught perpetrator? We would have made sure that we would have cut as many pieces of him as possible and parcel some to government, some to media and remaining to his kith and kin. But Indians on other hand don’t do it, because by nature they are a bunch of peace loving folks. They are soft natured, harmony loving and gentle folks. They are like the house neighbours who don’t mind even if you pee on their yard or grab some mangoes from their grove. We should be fortunate to have such amazing neighbours.

Initially I was afraid when caught and hence I confessed all my wrong doings. But I guess it must have been shocking as they are not used to people who immediately confess their actions. I understood this when the hawaldar asked me "Are you sure? Really?" as if I was answering some KBC question. See, they are used to court proceedings which take years (in double digits). It’s a tactic that no country on earth would understand. The longer the case, it keeps that many people employed and hence you solve unemployment in a single fix. Masterpiece eh?

So I first started out that I was a minor. They scampered, huffed and puffed for first six months negating it. I had also judged the media reaction to my case and so just blurted that I came here to work in films. I have already got offers from Verma and Bhatt sahib to star in their films.(I have couriered along some DVDs of their films and Munir should love it). I had to pay the hawaldar 1000 bucks to get this letter couriered. These people are more corrupt to the soul than our politicians. For a few wad of notes they might sell their mother or motherland or possibly both.

If they indeed find me guilty now, I have few other tricks up my sleeve which I learnt from Indian politicians. I will vehemently deny saying that I have been targeted because I belong to a minor community and when that fails, I will complain of chest pain and heart attack and lie down. (Ironically nobody here questions that how can a politician with no heart have a heart attack :P)

Even the witnesses will be out after certain time. As I told before, this case will as will drag for years. By that time, the witnesses would be dead out of old age, or possibly by some bomb attack by someone (ours or theirs you never know), or flood which comes regularly but no one takes care to fix it. Also there are some nice politicians here who will help my cause. There is an awesome politician called Raj Bhai who beats people if they don’t talk in the local language (not hindi, that’s national and they dont care about it). See, the people here get beaten up by so many of their own men, that they tend to forget "Oh. You beat me? When was that?". Who is going to remember a short guy with Donald Trump hair and AK 47 gun?

Also, I will like to point out their master key stroke idea in recent times. You see, all politicians make promise to people to elevate this country on par with USA. They found out how to do it? How? Simple. Divide all existing states into 2-3 parts and voila. They have more than 52 states and now are on PAR with US. Master stroke eh? Infact, tell all our brothers that this might be an opportune moment to bomb some place or train in this country. You see, since they are in fighting mood now, one party will blame the opposition and vice versa and then there will be more blood. So all we need to do is just press the trigger button.

All I can tell from my experience is that Indians are an amazing bunch of people. The old adage of Forgive and Forget is followed by them religiously. Like they forgot about this bomb blast after few months. All they did was rally with few candles and raise few slogans. Another rain, bomb blast and election, they don’t remember anything.

The US is still rallying around a 9/11 which happened way back in 2001. But these people don’t even remember the latest attacks or casualties as it keeps happening and never looks like its going to stop. They are like the Short Term memory loss patients who just remember the latest incident and then forget the rest. They find solaces in an unlikely cricket win or 1-in-a-billion gold medal in some games. That’s enough for them to heal their wounds.

Anyway, lastly, ask Munir to practise bomb making seriously. And also, tell him not to swallow that cyanide. Jihad is bullshit and I discovered it. Even if he gets caught here, he needn’t worry about anything I will manage the rest.

Looking forward to meeting you all here soon.

Your loving son,

Ajmal Kasab

P.S: Maybe I will discuss with Verma or Bhatt if Munir can get second hero role in the same film. Or possibly for a bigger room here in the worst case.

P.S: Happy new Year :)

தலைவன் இருக்கிறான்

2009-05-14T01:17:00.000-04:00

இன்று தேர்தல் பிரசார மேடை

“இப்பொழுது “தமிழின் விடிவெள்ளி“, “ஏழைகளின் காவலன்“, “அஞ்சாநெஞ்சன்” நம் எல்லோருடைய பாசத்துக்குரிய நா. கா. மு. க கட்சியின் தலைவர் அருமை “அண்ணன்” பேச வருகிறார். (கரகோஷங்கள்)

“என் ரத்தத்தின் ரத்தங்களே, தமிழ் தாயின் அன்பு முத்தங்களே” (மீண்டும் கரகோஷங்கள்)

”மேடையில் அமர்ந்திருக்கும் நம் கூட்டணி கட்சி தலைவர்களான போ.று. க.கி கட்சி தலைவர் சை.கோ அவர்களே, மற்றும் அடுத்த முதல்வர் ஆக போகும் என் அன்பு சகோதரி ப. ர. தே. சி கட்சி தலைவியான நம் “அக்கா” அவர்களே, உங்களுக்கு என் வணக்கங்கள்.” (கரகோஷங்கள்)

“நீங்கள் நினைப்பீர்கள், நான் உங்கள் முன்னால் நின்று இன்று தேர்தலுக்காக வாக்கு பிச்சை கேட்க போகின்றேன் என்று. இல்லை. மாறாக உங்களை எச்சரிக்கின்றேன்.” (கூட்டத்தில் சலசலப்பு)

“ஆம். எங்களை தெருந்தேடுக்கவில்லைஎனில், நீங்கள் உங்கள் வாழக்கையை இருட்டடித்து கொள்வீர்கள் என்று எச்சரிக்கின்றேன். இந்த கரங்களை பாருங்கள். இது உங்களுக்காக உழைத்து, உங்களுக்காக வாரி வழங்கி சிவந்து போன கரங்கள். இது அப்பழக்கற்ற ஏழைகளின் காவலனின் கரங்கள்.”

சில மாதங்களுக்கு முன்

“அண்ணே. யாரோ உங்கள பார்க்க வந்திருக்காப்ல.”

வந்தவர் பெரிய கூழை கும்பிடு போட்டார். பெரிய கும்பிடு என்றால் கேட்ட விலை என்பது அண்ணனின் எழுதப்படாத அனுபவம்.

“அண்ணனுக்கு ஞாபகம் இருக்குமானு தெரியல. போன தடவை நாம ஜாதி சங்கத்துல விழா எடுத்தப்ப தலைவருக்கு பெரிய ஆளுயர மாலை போட்டு ஏரியா முழுக்க பிரமாண்டமா கட் அவுட் வெச்சு அமர்க்கள படுத்துனேன். அண்ணன் கூட ரொம்ப ரசிச்சு மேடைல புகழுந்தீங்க.”

“அதெல்லாம் இருக்கட்டும். என்ன வேலையா வந்தீங்கநு சொல்லுங்க”

“பையனுக்கு படிப்பு ஏறல. சரி கழுதை துணி பாக்டரி பார்த்துகட்டுமேநு அனுபிச்சேன். இந்த முதேவி அங்க இருந்த ஒரு புள்ளைய கசமுசா பண்ணிட்டான். விஷயம் பெரிசாகி பேப்பர்ல கூட வந்திச்சு. ஆயுள் தண்டனை உறுதி நு சொல்றாங்க. அண்ணன் மனசு வெச்சா என்ன வேணும்னாலும் செய்யலாம். அண்ணனை நம்பி வீட்டுகாரி கிட்ட கூட புள்ளைய காபாத்துவேன்னு வாக்கு கொடுத்துட்டேன்.(விசும்புகிறார்)”

“உங்க புள்ளை செஞ்சது தப்பு தானே.”

“நான் இல்லைங்கல. ஏதோ வயசு பையன் ஒரு வேகத்துல செஞ்சுட்டான். நான் பணம் தரேன்னு அந்த பொண்ணோட அம்மாகிட்ட சொன்னேன். ஆனா அந்த கிழவி நீதி நியாயம் நு சினிமா டயலாக் எல்லாம் பேசுது. அண்ணன் மனசு வெச்சா இந்த சிக்கல்லேருந்து காப்பாத்தலாம்.”

“இதெல்லாம் சிக்கலுங்க. உங்க புள்ளைய காப்பாத்த போயி என் இமேஜ் போச்சுநா நான் என்ன பண்ணுவேன். நீங்க கிளம்புங்க.”

“அண்ணேன். அப்பிடி சொன்னீங்கனா நான் எங்கனே போவேன்.(கண்ணீர்) எவ்வளவு செலவானாலும் பரவாலை நே. என் புள்ளைய காப்பாத்துங்க சாமி.”

“யோவ் யோவ். கால்ல வந்து விழாதயா. சரி. ஒரு 60 லட்சம் செலவாகும். முடிஞ்சு வெளில வந்த உடனே உன் புள்ளைய மேட்டர் அமுங்கர வரைக்கும் கொஞ்ச நாள் வெளிநாட்டுல இருக்க சொல்லு.”

“அண்ணனே. உங்களுக்கு கோவிலே கட்டலாம்னே.”

“அதெல்லாம் வேண்டாம். வெளிநாட்டுக்கு போயாவுது உன் பையன அடங்கி இருக்க சொல்லு. அங்க எடாகுடமா பண்ணினா அவனை காப்பாத்த என்னை மாதிரி நல்லவன் எவனும் கிடைக்க மாட்டான்“

இன்று

“இங்கிருக்கும் என் அருமை சகோதரி, உங்கள் அன்பு “அக்கா” பற்றி நான் சொல்லியாக வேண்டும். தனக்காக வாழாமல் உங்களுக்காகவே வாழுகிறாள் இந்த அன்பு சகோதரி. இங்கு நாடாளும் குடும்பத்துக்கும் இவருக்கும் எவ்வளவு வித்தியாசம்.தன்னுடைய இறந்து போன தாத்தா தவிர இவர் எல்லாரையும் ஏதோ ஒரு பதவியில் அமர்த்திவிட்டார். ஊரெங்கும் இவருக்கு இருக்கும் சொத்து பற்றி உங்களுக்கு தெரியாதா?”

“இந்த ஊழல் பெரிச்சாளிகளுக்கா உங்கள் வாக்கு?”

போன தேர்தலில்

“இந்த அம்மையார் ஆடிய ஆட்டங்களெல்லாம் நாடறியும். குடும்பம் குட்டி இல்லாத இவருக்கு என் இத்தனை சொத்து, இத்தனை நகை, இத்தனை கார் எல்லாம்? ஒட்டு போட்டவனோ வெய்யிலில் காய்ந்து கொண்டிருக்க, இவருக்கு மட்டும் சொகுசு பங்களாவா?”

“இங்கிருக்கும் க.ச. மா. ல.ம கட்சி தலைவர், நம் அருமை “அப்பா” அவர்கள் பற்றி நான் சொல்லிதான் உங்களுக்கு தெரியனுமா? தான் மட்டும் இல்லாமல், தன குடும்பத்தையே நாட்டு பணியில் இடுபடுத்தியிருக்கும் இவர் நாட்டுபற்றை பற்றி சொல்லுவதா, அல்லது வேறு பாஷையை ஒழித்து தமிழை மட்டும் நாம் பயில வேண்டும் என்று என்னும் அவர் தமிழ் பற்றை பற்றி கூறுவதா?”

இன்று

“நாங்கள் ஆட்சிக்கு வந்தால் சிறியதிலும் சிறிய சிறுபான்மியருக்கு பத்து சதவிதம் ஒதுக்குவோம் என்பதை பெருமையுடன் தெரிவிக்கின்றேன்.” (கரகோஷங்கள்)

“கலப்பு திருமணத்திருக்கு பத்தாயிரம் கட்சி நிதியிலிருந்து அள்ளித்து ஜாதி இல்லாத சமுதாயம் உருவாக்குவோம்” (கரகோஷங்கள்)

சில நாட்கள் முன்பு

“இது என் சொந்த விஷயம் சித்தப்பா. நீங்க இதுல தலையிடாதீங்க.”

“நான் ஒரு அரசியல்வாதி. குடும்பத்துல இருக்கிற உன் பிரச்னை, பொது வாழ்கையில என் பிரச்னை.”

“அந்த பொண்ணு வேற ஜாதி. இத தவிர வேற எந்த குறையும் இல்ல. அப்புறம் எதுக்கு எல்லாரும் இப்படி கூப்பாடு போடறீங்க.”

“அது ஒன்னு போறாது எதிர் சாதியும் எதிர் கட்சிகார பயலுகளுக்கு என்னை கவுக்க? அந்த புள்ளைய மறந்திடு”

“மேடைல வாய் கிழிய பேசறீங்களே ஜாதி இல்லாத சமுதாயம் அமைப்போம்நு. அதெல்லாம் என்னது?”

“எவனடா கூறுகெட்ட பயல இருப்ப போல இருக்கு? என்னிக்கி நாங்க சொன்னதை செஞ்சிருக்கோம். இந்த பேதங்கள் எல்லாம் ஒழிஞ்சுட்டா அப்புறம் நாங்க மாடு மேய்க்க போக வேண்டியது தான். தமிழ் தமிழ் நு கூட தான் சொல்றோம். தமிழ்காக உயிரை கொடுப்போம்னு சொல்றோம். உண்மையில ஒரு (தலைமுடியை இழுக்கிறார்) . புரிஞ்சுதா. இப்போ நீயும் என் புள்ளைங்களும் தஸு புஸ்ஸு நு இங்கிலிஷ்ல பேசறதில்ல?”

“இதெல்லாம் யாரும் தட்டி கேட்கமாட்டாங்க நு நம்பிக்கை உங்களுக்கு.”

“அப்பிடி தான் இத்தனை வருஷம் அரசியல் பண்றேன். இப்போ டி.வி. தரோம்னு சொன்ன உடனே பல்லை இளிச்சுக்கிட்டு ஒட்டு போட்டானுவ. இத்தனை பேரு வாக்குறுதி தராங்களே, யாராவுது ஊழல் இல்லாத ஆட்சி, பாதுகாப்பான ஆட்சி அப்புடி நு சொல்றாங்களா? இல்லை. நமக்கு லஞ்சம் பழகி போச்சு. லஞ்சம் வாங்கதவனுக்கு பேரு……பொழைக்க தெரியாதவன். ”

“இது ஆணவம் சித்தப்பா.”

“இல்லை. இது நம்பிக்கை. உன்னை மாதிரி கேள்வி கேக்கறவன் ஒட்டு போடறது இல்லை. ஒட்டு போடறவன் கேள்வி கேக்கிறது இல்லை.”

இன்று

“நாங்கள் ஆட்சிக்கு வந்தால் அனைவருக்கும் இலவச கம்ப்யூட்டர் வழங்கி நாட்டை முன்னேற்றுவோம் என்பதை மட்டும் கூறி வாய்ப்புக்கு நன்றி கூறி விடை பெறுகிறேன். நன்றி வணக்கம்.”

கூட்டத்தில்

“கம்ப்யூட்டர் வெச்சு நாம என்ன பண்ண. பேசாம ஏசி கேக்கலாமா? வெயில்ல இருக்க முடியல.”

“ஆமா. பேன் ஓடவே இங்கே கரண்டு இல்லை. இதுல இவ ஏ சி போடராளாம்.”

“ஏய் மக்கா. இந்த தடவை என்ன ரேட் போகும். ரெண்டாயிரமாவுது தேறுமா?”

மேடையில்

தலைவர் கை அசைத்தவாறே உதவியாளரிடம் “ஏன்டா. இன்னமுமாடா இந்த ஊரு நம்மை நம்புது.”

“அது அவங்க விதின்னே”

என்ன கொடுமை சார் இது!!!

2009-04-22T22:38:00.002-04:00

"தம்பி, அருவாள் எடுத்துகிட்டு எங்க வேகமா போறீங்க?”

“என்னை தடுக்காதீங்கன்னே. இன்னிக்கி என் அருவாள் ரத்தம் பார்க்காம விடாது.”

“என்ன தம்பி தெலுங்கு பட வில்லன் மாதிரி பேசறீங்க. இப்படி பந்த் இருக்கிற நேரத்துல அருவாள் எடுத்துகிட்டு சுத்தறீங்க. போயிடுங்க தம்பி“

“என்னனே இன்னைக்கி பந்த்?”

“என்ன தம்பி விவரம் தெரியாத புள்ளையா இருக்கீங்க. இலங்கைல அப்பாவி தமிழர்களை கொல்றாங்க இல்லை,அதுக்கு எதிர்ப்பு தெரிவிச்சு இன்னைக்கி பந்த்.”

“இலங்கைல தான் அப்பாவி தமிழர்களை பல வருஷமா கொல்றாங்களே, அப்புறம் என் இப்போ திடீர்னு பந்த்?”

“தம்பி, இப்படி விவரமாவும் விவகாரமாவும் பேசினீங்க, உங்க வீட்டுக்கு ஆட்டோல வருவாங்க. அதெல்லாம்இருக்கட்டும், இப்போ எதுக்கு நீங்க அருவாளோட கேளம்பிடீங்க ? “

“நல்ல வேளை ஞாபக படுத்துனீங்க. நான் வரேன்ன்னே.”

“தம்பி இருப்பா. யாரை கொல்ல அவசரமா போற?”

“ஏசுநாதரை சிலுவைல கட்டி சித்ரவதை செஞ்சாங்களே, அவங்களை கண்டந்துண்டமா வேட்ட போறேன்.”

“என்னை பார்த்தா கேனயன் மாதிரி தெரியுதா? இந்த சம்பவம் நடந்து எத்தனை நூறு வருஷம் ஆச்சு. இப்போ வீராவேசமா கிளம்புனா என்ன அர்த்தம்?”

“இது நடந்து பல வருஷம் ஆகி இருக்கலாம். ஆனா நான் நேத்து தானே பைபிள்ல படிச்சேன்.”

Kaun Banenge Humaare Brangelina?

2009-04-02T14:05:00.001-04:00

For the people whose hindi knowledge hangs on the thin threads of "Ek Gaanv mein ek aadmi rehta tha", the meaning of the title of this post means "Who will be the Indian Brangelina?"

Now you are wondering "Should we really care?". Right?

Of course you should. As per a recent piece of news, apparently Angelina Jolie told a kid from the film Slumdog Millionaire that she is planning to adopt a kid from India. So it means that the ever increasing family of Brangelina is going to increase its count size. They have almost lined up their arsenal of kids from every possible third world countries which are strived by war or poverty or you-name-it.

I dont mean to speak ill of them in this context, because

1. Personally, I can’t even take care of myself, let alone so many kids. So I have no amount of right to ridicule them and their noble intentions.

2. There is a saying in tamil which literally translates to "The one who has long hair, will tie a hair-bun." They have money and they can afford to support them and most of all she has a will to help people and so she does it. Hats off Madam!

Oh...ok you are confused? You are wondering that if they are so good, why we need an Indian Brangelina. Of course we need them. We have this negative image of poor imporvished country which we ought to break and to do that we need to do the reverse of what they are doing.

Meaning?

Lets adopt kids from the first world countries like US, UK, Australia and so on.

For that, we need a high profile couple who have the clout and visibility as Brangelina.And so, like Kaun Banega Crorepati, your options are

A. M K and Jaya

No one knows how to raise kids and making them high profile as M K. Every possible position in his party has been held by his scions or relatives. In short, like Congress has "Jai Ho" as their theme song, DMK should have the song "Where is the Party, Ada Nama Ootula Party" as their theme song. Gels quite well, isnt it?

As for Jaya, well, you got to blame her party men for naming her Amma. If she can be Amma for so many lakhs of her Partymen, couple of children wouldnt hurt.

The additional advantage of this pair is that, they have truckloads of money (so what if under binami) and also the kids wont need to stay alone. They can play with Stalin Uncle, Sasikala Chiththi, Maaran Maama. See, it seems like one big happy family in Vikraman movie :)

2. Raj and Maya

Ok. Arguably quite an odd couple. But see, you should understand the motive behind this whole operation. It is to bring to end many disparities. Raj Bhai is so "Kind" and "soft". Imagine, how nice it will be when he and his team of goons will teach Americans, Europeans to speak and write in Marathi? They can eat Vada paav, go to Chaupati Beach, threaten...eh...sorry...meet Amitabh. Mazaa aayega!!!

Maya Didi will ask her party cadres who are going to contest in the elections to teach the kids to stab (mean chicken yaar), shoot and also talk in "shudhdh" hindi laden with expletives. The children can also have additional statues of their own alongside Maya didi.

They can accompany her to various party meetings where seat sharing, dealings and horse-trading will be done and these kids can then someday take these cultural learnings to their place and "prosper". I mean, why should we be the only spoilt ones?

3. Lalu and Rabri

What...you are surprised? Come one, they are an ideal couple. Look, how much trust you should have if you can make your wife who has hardly crossed the street to buy veggies to run one of the most dangerous states in the country? That, my friends is marital commitment and trust.

And also their rich experience in handling kids close to size of cricket team speaks volumes of their parenting skills. Also the kids can also learn how to feed fodder to cows (or how to make a scam out of it if they are smart enough). They can milk the cows, celebrate holi, go in tonga during election stunts. Aah...Incredible India isnt it?

4. Simbhu and Nayanthara

Eh....sorry...I needed 4 options. And quite frankly this constitutes the Brangelina type Bad-Boy-Plus-Hot-Lady concept. Donno if you have any reservations against them. Of course we can swap them with Salman and Katrina (although the western kids might not want to hug Katrina as her name resembles a hurricane :P).

So what do you think? Who deserves to be the winner?

Shoot your thoughts and opinions or even your choices on who makes an ideal couple to be the Indian Brangelina.

முரண்

2009-03-16T08:21:00.010-04:00

சத்தியமாக சொல்லவேண்டும் என்றால் எனக்கு இந்திய வானிலை அமைப்பின் மீது துளி கூட நம்பிக்கை இல்லை. ஏன்? அட உங்கள்ளுக்கு தெரியாததா. "நடக்கும் என்பார் நடக்காது" பாடலுக்கே சரியான எடுத்துகாட்டு அவர்க்ள் தானே.

ஆனால் இன்று அப்பிடி இல்லை.

இன்று காலை அவர்கள் அறிவித்தது போல் வெய்யில் வெறித்தனமாக கொளுத்தியது.மண்டை மேல் அடிக்கும் வெய்யிலில் உண்மையாகவே பகலில் நட்சத்திரங்கள் தெரிந்தன. என் அம்மா அப்பா ஏதோ சாதாரணமாக ஊட்டியில் தேனிலவுக்கு வருவது போல் நடந்து வந்தது எனக்கு கூடுதல் எரிச்சலை கிளப்பியது.

"என்னடா உனக்கு இப்படி வியர்த்து கொட்டுகிறது?" என்று என் அம்மா கரிசனம் காட்டினாள்.

அக்கடானு வீட்டில் "சிரிப்பொலி" பார்த்து சும்மா சிரித்து கொண்டிருந்த என்னை இப்படி சுட்டெரிக்கும் வெய்யிலில் கொண்டு வந்து சுகம் காண சொல்கிறாள்.

இன்னும் அமெரிக்கா குளிர் பழக்கம் விடலையா?" என்று என் அப்பா கூடுதல் நக்கல் அடித்தார்.

அமெரிக்காவிலிருந்து வந்து ரெண்டு நாட்கள் ஆகி இன்னும் ராத்திரி பகல் நேர வித்தியாசமே எனக்கு புலப்படவில்லை. அதற்க்குள் என்னை இங்கே திருச்சியில் ஒரு முதியோர் இல்லத்துக்கு அழைத்து வந்தார்கள். திருவானைக்காவலில் ஏதோ ஒரு முலையில் இருந்த அந்த இல்லத்துக்கு வருவதற்க்குள் என் சட்டை தொப்பறையாக வியர்வையில் நனைந்தது.

"வாங்கோ வாங்கோ. சௌக்கியமா இருக்கேளா? அம்பி யாரு, உங்க முத்த பையனா?" என்று ஒரு பாட்டி குசலம் விசாரித்தாள். என் அம்மா என் முழு ஜாதகத்தையும் விநியோகம் பண்ணிவிட்டாள் என்று எனக்கு புலப்பட்டது.

"ஆமா. ரெண்டு நாள் முன்னாடி தான் அமெரிக்காலேருந்து வந்தான்" என்று என் அம்மா பிரசங்கித்தாள். நான் மழையில் நனைந்த கோழி போல் அவஸ்தையாக சிரித்தேன்.

"அம்பிக்கு இடத்தை சுத்தி காட்டுங்கோ". ஏதோ தாஜ் மகாலை காட்ட போவது போல் என் அம்மா சீரியசாக என்னை அழைத்து சென்றாள்.

அது ஸ்ரீரங்கத்து அக்ரஹாரத்து வீடுகளின் அமைப்பில் இருந்தது. அந்த திண்ணையை பார்த்தபோது மொருஞ்சாதம் சாப்பிட்டு உறங்க வேண்டும் போல ஆசையாக இருந்தது. உள்ளே சில பெரிசுகள் ரகசியம் பெசிகொன்டன. மேல் சுவரில் ஒட்டடை அடித்து ஒரு நூற்றாண்டாவுது ஆகி இருக்கும். சுவற்றில் பிள்ளையார் எறும்பு யாரையும் பொருட்படுத்தாது நேர்க்கோட்டில் ஊர்வலம் சென்றது. அங்கே இருந்த குழவிகல்லை பார்த்து ஆச்சரியமாக இருந்தது. அதை தூக்குவதர்க்கே சிக்ஸ் பாக் ஆப்ஸ் வளர்க்கவேண்டும் போல.

மேல் கூரை கிழே இருந்த கல் தூணின் மேல் நின்றது. அந்த கல் தூணிலோ அல்லது சுவரிலோ ஆணி அடிப்பதற்கு அர்னால்டை தான் அழைக்க வேண்டும். சென்னையில் நான் வாடகைக்கு இருந்த வீட்டில் ஒரு ஆணி அடித்து அந்த சுவரில் நிலா போல போத்தல் விழுந்து அந்த வீட்டுக்காரன் என்னை சுப்ரீம் கோர்ட்டுக்கும் ஐ.நா சபைக்கும் இழுப்பதாக மிரட்டியது ஏனோ நினைவுக்கு வந்தது.

அங்கே இருந்த ஒரு தாத்தா கருமசிரத்தையாக போஸ்ட்கார்டில் தன்னை இந்நிலைக்கு ஆளாக்கினவர்களுக்கு "நலம். நலமறிய அவா" என்று தனது பொய் கணக்கை ஒன்று கூட்டினார். முத்து முத்தான அவர் எழுத்தை பார்த்து என் கோழி கிறுக்கல் நினைவிக்கு வந்தது. அவர் பக்கத்தில் இருந்த சம்பூரண ராமாயணம் (சமஸ்கிரதத்தில்) பார்த்து என் பூணுல் விழாவில் ஒரு பெரியவர் வந்து "அம்பி அபிவாதயே சொல்லு" னு கேட்டு நான் அப்பாவியாக "அபிவாதயே. ஆச்சா மாமா?" னு கேட்டு உதை வாங்கியது ஞாபகம் வந்தது.

ரொம்ப நேரமாக என்னை பார்த்துகொண்டிருந்த ஒரு பாட்டி, சைகை காட்டி என்னை அழைத்து "அம்பி. என்ன படிக்கற?" என்று குசலம் விசாரித்தாள்.

வழக்கமாக "ஆத்துக்காரி வரலையா?" அல்லது "குழந்தைகள் (கவனிக்க, இது plural) எங்க படிக்கறா?" போன்ற கேள்விகள் கேட்கப்படும் என்னை, பாடடி "யுத்"தாக வருணித்தது காதில் தேனாக வந்து பாய்ந்தது.

"இல்லை பாடடி. நான் வேலை செய்யறேன்".

"வெளிநாட்டுல வேலை செஞ்சுட்டு இப்பொ தான வரியா?"

"ஆமாம் பாடடி."

"அம்மா அப்பா யாரு கூட இருக்கா?"

"தனியா இங்கே இருக்கா. சொந்த வீட்டுல இருக்கா."

"அப்பிடினா இங்கே இருக்கிரவாளுக்கும் அவாளுக்கும் ரொம்ப வித்தியாசம் இல்லை."

பாட்டியின் சொல் சுட்டது. கோபம் அனலாய் வந்ததது. கிழவிக்கு என்ன திமிர்?

ஆனால் நிதானமாக யோசிக்கும்போது வலித்தது. வெறும் காசு-பணம் மட்டும் உறவை பாதுகாக்குமா? ஆசையாய் பேச ஆள் இல்லாமல் எத்தனை நாள் தவித்திருபார்கள். ஆயிரம் முறை என்னை சாப்பிட்டியா என்று கேட்க்கும் அம்மாவிடம் நான் அதை எத்தனை தடவை கேட்டுகிறேன்? வேகமான உலகத்தில் யாரு அதெல்லாம் நினைத்து பார்க்கிறார்கள். அவர் அவர்களுக்கு அவர்கள் வாழ்க்கை, அவர்களின் போராட்டம்.

இந்த சுழலில் இருந்து மீண்டு வர என்னதான் வழி இருக்கிறது? நினைக்கும்போது நெஞ்சு கனமானது. விடை தான் காணவில்லை.

கிளம்பும்போது அப்பா கேட்டார் "என்னடா. நாளைக்கி காலைல பல்லவன்ல புக் பண்ணடா?"

"ரெண்டு நாள் இருந்துட்டு போகவாப்பா?"

என் அப்பா கண்களில் முதன் முறையாக ஆச்சரியம் மின்னியது.

Too Many Choices

2009-03-04T21:06:00.003-05:00

"Lucky. Come for lunch" shouted Lucky's aunt from the Dining Table.

For as long as 25 years (that's all he could remember), Lakshmikanthan remained only Lucky's baptized name. Except for School TC, degree certificates and his resume, Lucky was the name by which he was widely known among friends and relatives. Infact not many of his class mates even knew his real name which he found out when they returned a letter addressed to him in his college days.

He had always felt lucky to be destiny's favorite child.

Until 2 weeks ago...it happened.

Lucky did not feel hungry and he was contemplating under what pretext he should avoid the luncheon when questions would be asked casually. Of course, everyone had their concerns and he could not blame them. And he also knew that they asked because they cared for him and only wished for his well-being. But given the current situation Lucky was in, it seemed as if everyone was nice to be nice. Infact, in his head, he ad-libbed everyone in Simon Cowell's voice - acerbic and mean. And it really drove him nuts.

Slowly Lucky rose from his computer desk which did manage to fit his 6 feet 1 inch tall frame. For someone who had celebrated his 27th Birthday sometime before, he looked somewhat heavy set. Consistent and more-than-necessary rounds of coffees, pizzas, Aaloo Parathas and Paneers ensured that Lucky looked like a traffic policeman dressed in mufti.

Replacing the professional attire of the neatly pressed Allen Solly pant was a Bermuda that barely held his paunch and made him feel like a pregnant Rhino in the vandalur zoo. He made a mental note to join the nearby gym which he had joined and quit 3 (actually 4) times before. Maybe that was one way to vent anger even if it was some innocent and harmless punching bag.

"I am not hungry now Aththai. Maybe I will eat later."

"It's already 1.30. By this time you usually have your second coffee break right?" asked his aunt.

There we go. Just when he wanted to forget it, she reminds him about it. Pissed and angry, but just good enough to conceal it, Lucky gave a wry grin which looked like "Oh-You-Are-so-smart" but in reality meant "Oh-free-me-from-these-morons". With that smile Lucky walked back to his computer room and sat staring at the computer screen just as any other day. 10 minutes later, Lucky's father knocked the door and sat beside him. That was something he admired about his dad and wished everyone had the same sense of diplomacy.

"Seems you are not hungry?" asked his dad.

"Yeah. Not much. I will eat later dad." assured Lucky. In his heart he knew that the later sounded just like those deadlines he gave to his once existent and demanding clients. 2 weeks ago thanks to the global recession, his company put a full-stop to his project and job which was obviously greeted by an exclamation mark, his questions were punctuated with apologies and hence there was a grand question mark looming above his very simple ordinary life.

"You are still upset about the whole issue?"

Upset was a very decent word. Of course, that was because his village-born-and-gentle-natured dad had always been the same gentleman as far as he could remember. Lucky felt like taking every possible glass article in the room (including his beloved computer monitor) breaking it into tiniest piece possible and laugh and cry at the same time. He wished he could buy some pink chaddis (as retaliation for his pink slips) and courier it to the gang of geniuses in Wall St. and the idiot statesman in Texas.

"Can't help it dad. But I will be fine." lied Lucky as smoothly as he could.

"What do you think about the impact of the whole situation on the country?" enquired his dad as if Lucky was Manmohan's underwear buddy.

It was quite complex and ironically simple to explain. Ravi explained how the IT and call-sector business had taken the Indian industry by storm and how it had attracted investors like Bee-hive in search of Rich-in-content and cheap-in-value talent. Salaries had grown to astronomical levels and lifestyle had changed. The average Indian could now own a house and car before he turned 30 and travel to foreign countries more frequently than they even visited their parents at their hometown (or old age homes if they were unlucky). Rents had skyrocketed and land and flat prices were possibly even higher than the ones in moon.

There were shopping malls, cineplexes, bars and pubs to cater to the elite. People believed to "work hard and party harder". No one questioned when the price of butter pop-corn was hiked from 25 to 35 Rs because they thought that to argue for it would be "cheap". Parents of girls with 36-28-36 figures had choice of US or Dubai or Europe grooms like some Crorepati question. Desi groom's applications were welcome only if they were Ambani or Advani's housemates. Swarovski and Gili were spotted frequently in marriage receptions unlike previous years when they could only be seen in their respective showrooms.

Not all was bad though as some people did spread the wealth by donating liberally (even if for the sake of 80G exemption). Economy was on the rise and women found better footing on par with men owing to liberalization. That did not stop them from being harassed or burnt for dowries, but still it was much better than before. There was a market to sell something and everyone was ready to buy anything.

Ironically, owing to the recession and the pink slips offered, many would have to wave good-bye to their AC cabins, fat pay-cheques and magnificent life-style. Worse, Lucky was not sure that he would even find any alternative job. The old adage that "What one fool can destroy ten wise men cannot repair" seemed perfectly true.
The final nail in the already buried coffin though was that at the correct marriable age, he was now without a job and not even in sight of one.

It was not like Lucky was afraid of change, but just skeptical about it. Change. One word that changed American election. He had been following Obama's progress and he always felt that he was the one. And when Obama got elected, Lucky followed his now famous victory speech. But it changed once he announced sops and restrictions, which like a domino effect ended up affecting his job. Lucky never thought that a single piece of treaty or paper could be so impactful. Maybe he might have done the same thing if he had been in Obama's shoes. But right now, he had to walk bare-naked and shoes seemed like history.

In short, Lucky's life seemed perfectly screwed.

Lucky's dad listened patiently and said "Come with me to the hall."

As Lucky sat on the sofa, his dad inserted a pre-recorded CD into the CD player. Seemed that CD players had even ventured in the remote village where Lucky's dad was a farmer and Landlord. His dad played a B-Movie from the 70's and it was utter crap from the first scene. The opening scenes gave idea to Lucky that it was a movie centered on the lost-and-found formula where the kids were lost in childhood and would take revenge once they reached adulthood. Of course, it would be filled with mundane jokes and some running-around-the-trees.

"Dad. I am in no mood to watch this crap" said a disinterested Lucky.

His dad however was engrossed in the movie and seemed as if he was waiting for some miracle to happen on the screen.

And that was when Lucky discovered....something...quite odd.

P.S: At this point, I discovered that the story…is in an interesting situation. It can go any way as per the whims and fancies of the author. So, what do you think should happen next? How can we take this story forward? Publish next part in your blog or mail me your thoughts on this.

Hope you have fun :)

ஜெய ஹோ

2009-02-24T20:46:00.002-05:00

ஜெய ஹோ
தெருவில் "ஆஸ்கார் நாயகனே வருக"
மற்றும் "Slumdog Millionaire" சுவரோட்டி பார்த்து
காலை கடன் கழிக்கும் சேரிச் சிறுவன்

டிஷ்யூம்
ஹீரோ ஆவேசமாக சண்டையிடும் காட்சி
ரசிகன் கத்தினான் "தலைவா சூப்பர்"
டுப்பின் முகத்தில் பெருமிதம்

வியாபாரம்
ஒருவனுக்கு ஒருத்தி விளம்பரத்தடியில்
பேரம் பேசினார்கள்
விலைமாதுவும் கஸ்டமரும்

அவிழ்ந்த முண்டாசு
பாரதியின் பெயரில் பல்கலைக்கழகம்
விண்ணப்ப படிவத்தின் பிரதான கேள்வி
"என்ன சாதி?"

The Game Plan

2009-02-22T22:31:00.002-05:00

"Why should we change the name of the game?" yelled the 8 year old.

"We should update it. Let's start with the name." said their 10 year old leader-of-the-pack.

"From now, we will call it Vakil-Police instead of Chor-police. The rules remain same. We run and fight."

All kids laughed.

"Run". The game had started.

P.S: Thanks to Nivi for the 55-Fiction idea. :)

7/10 - 2

2009-02-12T20:48:00.002-05:00

"I want you to know something before we get married. I was in love with a guy in my college days and we were close to getting married."

"Well....So what?" asked Siddharth coldly.

(surprised)"So what? Is that your reaction?"

"Yes. Why do you expect me to react wildly?"

"Siddharth. I wanted to tell this to you many times. But every time we talked, I felt a deep connection to you. And I found myself procrastinating this....and it has come today. I don't want us to start our life on a bed of lies."

"Why do you think that it would bother me?"

"We live in a country of opinions Siddharth. Everyone might have different opinions on different issues, but the unanimous opinion in the issue of marriage is that the women should be the man's first love."

"You must be living in rock ages Shobhana. Any half-decent looking girl is chased by minimum 3-4 guys everyday on her way to home from outside world. Pardon my language, but admittedly we are a country of sexually frustrated citizens who lie to ourselves and the rest. You are beautiful and it is obvious that boys must have resorted to all kind of tomfoolery to get your attention. Infact I would have done the same if I had met you in my teenage days." (smiles)

Both smile but are still uncomfortable.

"Sorry to interrupt your dream Siddharath, but we still live in rock ages. You belong to the new-generation of city-bred, pizza-munching and accented English speaking group of educated punks. I don't even think you know that even today women die on account of dowry burns…and most of them are from your upper class society as well. Those who appear educated on the outside are still savage inside and the greater crime is that everyone walks scot-free."

Siddharth remains silent. Frankly, he never even bothered to think about it.

"Just because, we wear jeans and T-Shirts, drive cars and work doesn't change the popular mindset. We might be developing software for the next generation, but more than half of the population hasn't got past the independence era."

"Well....since you know that I am not from the usual crowd, I think we can put this issue to rest."

"But this is different Siddharth. I was in love with him as well."

"Everybody loves Shobhana. We are not living in Taliban regime if you count out the senas and sanghs. It is a free country and we are creatures with emotions. Everyone wants to be loved Shobhana. Love is not a matter of ability but opportunity. Given a chance, every one of us would fall in love. Some don't because they are shy to accept or because they cherish their ambitions or because of their circumstances. Safe to say that atleast 7 out of 10 people fall in love with some, but less than half of them are fortunate enough to walk hand-in-hand with the same people for their whole life."

She looks at him with a puzzled expression as he continues hesitantly.

"I loved a girl in my college days too."

"What happened then?"

"The same that must have possibly happened to you and to most other innocent fellow innocent of my dear country. Caste and religious differences. Is it the same thing with you?"

"Yes." She replies coldly with tears brimming her little eyes.

"Look. I didn't tell this to you, because apparently no woman wants to share her man. And I thought that sharing this news would....you know...make you feel alien to me."

"Frankly, aren't you bothered about my past?"

"Let's be practical Shobhana. Tell me, after a week what will happen to us?"

"We will share our life?"

"And?"

"Our joys...happiness...today and tomorrow."

"Exactly. We are going to share our today and tomorrow. The past is over and out. You and I have dealt with it and thats why we are here today. If I was bothered about your past, then so must be you about mine. Maybe it is written that we must be together. Maybe its a start that we must know more about each other and understand every little detail about us."

"But...marraige is different Siddharth."

"Marriage is same like any relationship Shobhana. Every relationship should withstand the tide of doubts and issues and must be firmly based on trust. The day we lose our trust on each other....it is over."

"What if we fight over this issue sometime in the future?"

"Now you know the skeletons in my cupboard as well. You fire back." smiles looking at her.

"Are you sure Siddharth?"

"Let me put it very simply for you. It is impossible to marry any man or women without a romantic past or a shred of love for someone else in their heart. The people who marry the only ones they loved are blessed...and not all of us are acceptably blessed. So...wisely let's make use of an opportunity that destiny has presented before us."

"I AM NOT PERFECT" said Shobana in between sobs.

Siddharth replied "Well...since you have told me your dark secret, I guess it is time I tell you mine."

He went near her, gently pressed his lips on hers and whispered.

"NEITHER AM I".

7/10

2009-02-06T01:12:00.003-05:00

"You are sure you that she is the one for you?" asked Ravi.

"Yeah...she is gotta be the one." replied Siddharth.

"Dude. You know her for how long...maybe a month?"

"Yeah. Maybe less, but not more."

"And you have not even met her once?"

"When I was in US, my parents fixed the alliance. It was all web chat and phone calls and so on. And when I landed here, I met her at the airport."

"You gotta be kidding me man."

"Oh cmon Ravi. Don't make so much fuss out of it. You don't expect me to escort her all around chennai, eat bajji in the beach, drink cold drink with a shared straw and all that mushy-mushy stuff like in the movies. In today's busy life, almost half of the marriages happen on the fly. You think working people have all the time in the world to run around the tree and sing songs in foreign locations?"

"Look Sid. You are my best friend. I wish the best for you and nothing else. But I get a feeling that you should know what you are getting into."

"Oh cmon. Mom sent me her photo and I liked her. We talked few times and we seemed to like each other. I have come here on vacation, get my visa renewed, will get married, get her a Visa and go back to US with her. As Simple as that."

"Sid. This is not some goddamn project implementation. You have to spend the rest of your whole life with her. Have you even thought about that?"

"Yeah I did. And I think she is perfect for me."

"Oh you do? And what does she think?"

"I think it is a mutual admiration. That is why we are getting married in less than a week buddy."

"Tell me something Sid. What is her favorite color?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Just answer me. What is her favorite color?"

Siddharth paused. Infact apart from her academic details, family background and few childhood incidents which she recited and he half-heatedly listened over phone, he didn't know anything about her.

"Oh cmon Ravi. These are just general stuff."

"Exactly my point. These are general stuff about her that even her friend or her college mate could tell you. But you are going to be her life partner and you don't know these little details. Sid, life is all but a big collection of small moments of happiness. And these small moments are derived from the smallest details about the person with whom you are going to spend your life with."

Siddharth remained silent.

"You have to know if she prefers salwaar to jeans, she likes Ganesha or Vishnu, loves Shahrukh or Brad Pitt, plays cricket or tennis, wakes up early or late, prefers gold or silver, eats vadai or Pizza. Frankly, have you ever bothered to ask these?"

Silence.

"You were just talking about yourself right? Where you studied, where you work, your pay scale, your boring manager, your nagging client...all the blah blah was about you right?"

Silence.

"And when she told you something about her, either you were half listening and working on your comp or half-asleep on the way to bed. So precisely, you practically don't know a shred of information about her."

Silence.

"The truth is you don't know her Sid. I am not asking you to cancel your marriage. I am just asking you to make it work."

"So you are free today evening?" Siddharth asked Shobhana over the phone.

She was pleasantly surprised. Just for sake of tradition she asked her mom to go out with him although even she had decided that whatever be the answer she was going to meet him. She decided that it was now or never for her.....to tell him the truth.

Sid drove his Ford Esteem over to her office and picked her up. They exchanged pleasantries and she sat next to him in the front seat. They remained silent for most of the journey which was interrupted by the Radio Mirchi RJ with his old jokes and new songs.

She was wearing an orange color chudidaar with some rajasthani mirror work on it and a matching light green color dupatta. She had a small bindi on her forehead which was not big enough to warrant attention and not too small enough to be unnoticed. Sid was not sure if she was using Christian Dior or Mont Blanc as he was still not very much accustomed to women's perfume tastes. She had painted her toes with darker shade of pink which almost matched her black sandals. Possibly only women could think of all permutations and combinations of colors to bejewel their body.

Marina Beach.

He was coming to Marina after almost 2 years. In the mean time he had been to Hawaaii, Florida, Chaupati beach, but Marina was one place where he felt like home. It was home.

The smell of Mirchi Bajji and jasmine garland, the fake fortune teller who herself was not sure where her next morsel of food would come from, the balloon shooter who hoped that his customers miss as many as possible to stay in business, the paav bhaji and bhel puri waala who wondered when America's recession will come to an end so that their business would boom again, the kid selling chick peas to lovers (illicit or true or time-pass), the ice cream vendor, the Frisbee players, the beach cricket batsman who was wondering if the next ball would be a bouncer or full-toss, the traffic police looking for illegal couple to make some dough, the cargo ship which looked far across like smaller than a paper boat, little children getting wet in the waves without any shame or fear, adults just washing their feet and looking back regularly to check if their slippers were safe. The beach was so full of life and characters.

But that was not what Sid had come for. He wanted to talk to Shobhana and know her. Like most introvert men, he waited for the other person to start some conversation. He coughed and smiled at her. She smiled. Well...that was a good start.

Before he could open his mouth and talk to her she shot back.

"Siddharth. I have to tell you something."

He looked with an eagerness of a student facing his final year exam papers.

"I want you to know something before we get married. I was in love with a boy in my college days and we were close to getting married."

First ball. Clean bowled.

To be completed on Feb 13^th

Known and Unknown

2009-01-29T00:20:00.002-05:00

All he had to do was close his eyes. But they refused to obey him. However hard he tried to close them, they seemed to be directed to one spot. It was hard to fantasize and comprehend what lay in front of him.

Here in the small bed, wrapped in a small cloth lay a part of his own. A piece of his body and soul. Someone who would be his inheritance. A shining beacon of rightfullnes, grace and radiating with divinity glowing within and outwards. The baby was sleeping. He was even afraid to hold him in his hands just having a stupid notion of "what if he slipped out of my hands".

It was ironical that inspite of having reached the age of 29, he had never held a kid in his hands. It was surprising to see someone almost 1/10th of the size of him and still feel almost hundred times love than for himself. But vying for his love
was the lady sleeping peacefully in the bed next to him. She was beautiful. Even in the half-moon light, her face had the serene beauty that could make the moon disappear behind the clouds.

The baby passed gas and he found himself laughing with his hands cupping his mouth. The baby then lay still. Motionless. Not a twitch. He grew afraid. He went near the baby and wondered if he should touch and awake him if he was sleeping or maybe summon the doctors. The baby twitched minutes later, what seemed like an eternity to him. And that was when it struck him.

What was it that had tied him to the child that was born a couple of hours ago? Love? Ego? Blood? At this moment he was prepared to lay his life for a kid, who had not even seen or known him, let alone remember that he was responsible for him.

Blood was indeed thicker than water. He thought about the thousands of parents who cried over their ward's dead bodies after wars. People who had lost their only hope of survival. Such people should have felt cremated alive.

He wondered about the thousands of people in poverty. He had not met many, but whatever little he saw of, made him ponder about the purpose of life. So what was life? Power? Struggle? Joy? Sex? Fame? Perhaps not. Life was more of a summation of
small obscure good deeds that would bring smile to the ones devoid of it. What was he doing here? What was his purpose of arrival on earth? He did not belong here.

It seemed like a giant puzzle's last piece had found and put itself in place. He walked out. Silently. Far away from her. Far away from the baby.

Far away....in search of himself.

-------------------------------------------------

She struggled to open her eyes. She had seen the baby just after it was born and then she passed out. She had no recollection of how long she was asleep. Must have been couple of hours. She was surprised to not find him. He was the most devoted husband any girl could have asked for and she was glad that he felt the same way about her. Reassuring herself that he must have been just near, she went near the baby.

The baby's feet were pink. She kissed its small toe. The baby twitched. But it did not cry. Maybe like some divine power, they seem to know and understand each other and so he chose to ignore making an issue out of her gentle kiss. She looked at his face. It had the same features of his dad although his ears were shaped out like her. He would grow out to be a wonderful young man.

Then she realized that he was not anywhere around. She left the baby sleep peacefully and walked with the little energy she could summon. She did not want to ask anyone about his whereabouts and panic them. She was a strong woman and she could
handle grief. But after almost an hours search throughout the palatial residence, there was no sign of him. He seemed to be everywhere and yet he was nowhere.

What wrong had she done? Was she not a good wife? A good lover? A loyal partner? She had done everything to the best of her abilities. And yet she was rewarded THIS. What would her son think about her once he grows up? Wouldn't he loathe her? What would her subjects say? That the king relinquished his throne due to his bad wife? It was certainly not a name she was prepared to live with.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. Just as it was about to drop from her cheeks down to the kid's face, she caught it with her hands. Perhaps, she still had a mission to live for in life.

-------------------------------------------------

Years later, the king who deserted his wife, Siddhārtha Gautama transformed into Lord Gautama Buddha.

She, Queen Yasodhara, turned into a nun years later and died 2 years before him.

But then, how many of us ever wondered or bothered about her?

News of Tomorrow

2009-01-06T23:03:00.001-05:00

News of Tomorrow

Date: 06-Jan-2019

Politics

Pak Denies hand in Terror: India asks US to intervene

By our Special Correspondent

New Delhi: New Delhi raised alarm over involvement of Pakistan's hand in the latest bomb blasts in an electric train in CST station in Mumbai. Police nabbed a gunman who is identified to be former Pakistani Cricketer Ashid Shafridi.

I did it: Ashid confesses

New Delhi: Ashid was nabbed by the policemen immediately after the incident and he confessed his crime. The FBI has confirmed his identity. However, Pakistan has deleted Ashid's record from their local Cricinfo database and their national citizen's database and maintained that there are no records to prove that he played for Pakistan nor he is a Pakistani citizen. India and US have expressed surprise that Pakistan even has a database of its own.

Even though around 30 daily-working mazdoors and ordinary people have died in this incident, the Home Minister Mr. Khivraj Betil refused to resign. He has maintained that it requires atleast 10 foreign tourists or some Page 3 VIPs to be killed for an Indian Minister to resign from his incumbent post.

"Mummy…save me from Pakistan": Minister

New Delhi: India has as usual upheld its cry-baby status and asked US to intervene and question Pakistan's morality in this issue. Indian Minister Mr. Betil repeatedly trying calling his US counterpart from his extension but found no answers. He finally got hold of him once he gave a missed call from his assistant's mobile phone. The US secretary, who has been using a mobile phone for the past 25 years is reported to have quipped "What the f**k is a missed call?" to his assistants.

World News

We will find WMDs : Salin's promise

Washington: Meanwhile, US President Ms. Parah Salin has promised the UN that they will find the WMD (Weapons of Mass Destruction) in Iraq by 2040. Apparently, she had to clarify what the heck a WMD was (just like her Republican predecessor Mr. Gush). She has vowed that once they find the WMD (and dry up all oil outlets), they will vacate Afghanistan.

Earlier today, the US authorities seized 2 sacks of butterbeans and black chana and had claimed that they be qualified as WMDs for their capability to induce humans to fart and pollute the atmosphere. The decision is still pending with the UN general body. Ms. Salin is also in consultation with her ministers to move the US capital from Washington to New Jersey, so that she can keep an eye on Iraq from her house.

Local Politics

Citizens to be trained by cricketers

Mumbai: Following the All India Terrorist Union's recent announcement that they would not claim responsibility for bomb blasts which kills less than 20 people, there has been terror alert in Indian cities.

Minister has claimed that they are taking help of cricketers to train people to catch and throw the bombs back at their attackers. Popular cricketers Bautam Bamghir and Ubin Rothappa who walked and scored runs in their heydays, have volunteered to help citizens to walk and catch bombs and throw them back. Popular cricketer Suvaraj Singh however offered to train female citizens.

Rape and Murder quota limit exceeded for MPs and MLAs: Bill passed unanimously in Parliament

New Delhi: The Indian parliament exceeded the murder and rape limits for MPs and MLAs. Earlier the rape and murder limits for MPs and MLAs were 2 and 1 respectively. But as per latest survey it was found that the MPs and MLAs expressed their dissatisfaction as they wanted the limit to be exceeded by 1 each. The bill was unanimously passed by all parties without any dispute. Once the bill was successfully passed in the morning, the parliament was adjourned in afternoon owing to poor attendance by MPs.

Vote Auction held successfully in TN: EC expresses satisfaction

Chennai: The EC expressed happiness over the first Vote auction held in TN by-elections. Under this scheme, the voter would stand outside the vote booth and auction his vote to the highest bidding party. MDK and AMDK stood outside the booths with truckloads of money and goondaas to 'convince' the voters to vote for them.

Meanwhile the MDK celebrated the first birthday of Mr. Asthamanidhi Tsalin's son Mr. KatchiNidhi. He has been appointed as "MDK's Toddler's association secretary". However Mr. Tsalin has rubbished claims about Dynasty politics in MDK and said that it was done in "Democratic" way.

Be warned: Taj's ultimatum

Mumbai: MNS (Megarashtra Napoonsak Sena) chief Mr. Taj Jockeray has "urged" his party members to spread Megarashtra spirit amongst people in the state. Taj has served ultimatum to immigrants from other states to learn to speak and write in Megathi if they wanted to make a living in Megarashtra.

He has asked his party cadres to henceforth take surprise oral and dictation tests on any suspicious non-megathi person across the state. If the person did not pass the test with "satisfactory" results, they would be deported on the next train to their respective states. The Supreme court has as usual expressed dissatisfaction and sent summon papers to Mr. Taj. The summon papers were reportedly used to clean Mr. Taj's assistant's children's private parts.

Cinema

Kajini's new movie

Chennai: Superstar Kajinikanth's new movie would be directed by renowned masala director Veerarasu. Veerarasu, who is having a golden run at the box-office, was summoned by the Superstar and apparently Veerarasu has told him a one-liner which seems to have impressed the Superstar.

Veerarasu's last movie with Sujay titled "Saidapettai" was a rocking success as it crossed 30 days across various centers. As Veerarasu has made movies with all the cities' name in TN, he is left with no choice but to use famous street names in TN. Rumor mills suggested that he might register the name "Kannamapettai" and the subject might be where Kajini will play the role of a young Casket maker. Veerarasu as usual makes a cameo (comedy) appearance as a dead body.

Popular yesteryear actress Tridevi's daughter Hanvi is tipped to play the role of Kajini's coveted heroine. Sources close to the superstar have neither confirmed nor denied the rumor. Kajini could not be contacted as he is on a spaceship to moon as Reporters seem to track him even in Hrishikesh Mountains.

Sports

We will win the World Cup: Tachin's new year promise

Mumbai: Tachin Sendulkar has promised Indian cricket fans that he will play to his best abilities to help India win the 2019 Cricket world cup. "Winning the world cup has always been my childhood dream" said the 45 year old cricketing superstar.

Indian team captain Mhd Nishasuddin (former captain Bajaruddin's son) has expressed confidence that Tachin's presence helps the team mates walk out with confidence. Chairman of Selectors, Mr. Dahul Ravid has expressed his support for Tachin while former Indian team skippers Boney and Senguly refused to comment on the issue.

Socha na Tha....

2009-01-05T00:19:00.004-05:00

To be frank, it came like a bolt from the blue sky. Once I got the link from good friend Nivi, I just decided to try my luck and sent 3 stories from whatever junk I had written.

The day I received mail that one of my stories was getting published, it took me some moment for the whole truth to sink in. "HOLY COW!!!!!" I yelled. Thank the lord I was not in office at that time, otherwise my Client manager must have thought that there was a fire breakout in the office. The sheer thought that my work is getting published in midst of people whose works makes mine feel like LKG rhymes is pretty hard to describe.

I wrote that story about 1.5 years before and had almost forgotten about it. But it is one of my personal favorites and was also my first attempt at writing a big story. I am thankful to my parents who grew me amidst Tinkle, Amar Chitra Katha comics etc which helped love reading stories. I also thank Ms. Arti for publishing this story and giving me a chance to live my dream.

I am also thankful to the Indian Educational System for encouraging me to write huge stories in form of answers in examination Question papers. I have killed so many living people, made Alexander rule Bihar, appointed New York as the capital of the US, boiled water in experiments where it should have been frozen, defied escape velocity, collapsed benzene. The less I talk about Maths the better for you all :P.

Last but not the least, I am thankful to all my fellow bloggers and readers (whether they commented or not). All your comments, flowers, brickbats have helped me evolve from a writer whose work did not even get published in his school diary.

So all ya interested folks can view the details here and order the book here and I am sure that you wont be disappointed :)