Naming it...

"Tommy? How very creative. Tommy.
And Gabriel? He is not an angel,"said Arun.

"What about all the Tigers?They aren't really tigers,are they?" said Vadivu.

"Mani, it is Mani even in the movie no, Anna? Please, why not Mani?"
said Priya.

"Money? Enna paisa vasoola?"

"Anna, look at her she is teasing me."

"Ok fine. Mani it is then."

He got the fetch, sit and run alright but the
German Shepherd did not think Mani was worth a Woof!!!

Aries Book Shop - Mylapore,Madras

We visited the shop,one dull afternoon three years ago and discovered books by O V Vijayan,Asokamitran,Raja Rao,Mulk Raj,Dostoevsky and some really fantastic (odd) children's books which are difficult to find in many leading book stores these days.The second hand book shop sold a lot of first hand copies too.It was here that we hit on BFI books discussing films.The shop would throw surprises at us and we never tired of browsing through the various sections.The shop held the simple joy of surprise that a radio still keeps while bursting into a song out of the blue.


The book store , the old thatha, his stray wanderings into the thodi ragam,the rickety fan,the unsettling dust,the smell of old books mingling with that of the fresh gum from the new ones and the books of course- are all gone !!
And in its place stand a monstrosity of a clothes shop.


The dull afternoon remains.

Tonsils and a weird dream

Green,and long - a mossy tunnel ??? No (turn)
POP !!! - a play gun ? No....!!! (toss)
Murder in the tunnel - No No Not !!! (turn)
dark and cool, bottle green - a forest ? Rama !!! (turn)
a neck , a bottle green neck - a bottle ,a green bottle !!! Yes (turn)
a freshly painted red fingernail making circles on its mouth (too much TV)(toss)
fizzzzzzzzzz - soda ? Yes a green Bottle- Soda Bottle(turn)
and a
round blue gOli nestling in its throat!!(toss)
a stray mosquito hums the morning ragam(toss- turn-stretch-yawn)
And i woke up feeling this odd pain in my neck , no throat
Tonsils the doctor confirms !!

My Prayer

O Lord! Please strip me off all this cunning,
so i can stand before you with
childish innocence, naked and stunning.

Wrong Number!

It must have been 2 p.m in the afternoon when Pandian received a call , nobody spoke for a second, although the line seemed clear.And suddenly, a deep female voice broke into a song.No lyrics or anything just an alapanai , no instruments, just the Alapanai.Before he could ask any further questions she said thank you and cut the call.On calling the number back he received no response.

Many miles away in Nagapattinam, Ilango bought his first cellphone and just after a small pujai was done for it , it rang and everybody ran to it and listened to a deep female voice announcing a splendid atAna ragam.It reminded him of the stage plays where his father played king.

Today iron shop Aruna told us that even they received a call and a voice sang to them.
To her it sounded like a song from old tamil film .
She could not make out if it was a female or male voice but it sounded so nice that they could not ut the phone down,she said.

But i do not know whether or not to believe her.You see, ever since the anonymous calls started making it to the headlines everybody
has an incident to quote.They say these calls just come and go , nobody reports of her speaking and they love her music and voice.i have often wondered about these calls.....
(PMPMPRMGS .......GM
PMPMPRMGS .......PNSR, NSRG,
MP MP MP MP RMGS......)
ah, let me just attend that call and get back to you.

Long shorts

I am to join Sri Ramachandra Boys High School tomorrow.We are allowed to wear full pants only from next year , that too real Khakhi - 100 percent .

Amma and Appa do not understand me or love me, else why did they get my shorts stitched so long ?It falls below my knees .I told them to shorten it when we went to Raju Tailors but Amma ignored me saying it would come for 2 more years.Now I wear them so up... up till my neck almost and it is such a problem when PT sir says to inshirt my shirt.Why can't they just understand that it looks so .. awesome .... no no what was that .. aw .. aww .. aweful .. no no .AWkward yes .... AWKWARD....Aiyoooo ......

The Wall , Withnail and I (him)

Our wall broke many months back, they came last week and had it up again.Everything everywhere happens slowly and so the house hall has been painted fresh and i have a fine cold .

We watched a movie - Withnail and i which was screened in a theatre nearby and recorded an amazing houseful.

The film was made in 1986 and is about two boys/men Withnail and him (I) who live on pills and odd leftovers from the road in a miserable flat constantly fearing a rat may jump out of their sink.Their joblessness makes them sloth around this ugly home they wish to run away from.They scoot to Withnail's luxuriously fat uncle Monty and drink expensive wine while pretending to listen to his reels of youth, sniffing him out to be gay.The boys get him to let out his country side house for them and hit the road for some "rejuvenation".Their stay in the farm is a laugh riot.The story is funny and dialogues are studded with lovely imagery ,wit and cynicism.

Scroll down for some excerpts :

Withnail: [having just drunk a bottle of lighter fluid] Got any more?
Peter Marwood: No. I have nothing.
Withnail: Liar. What's in your toolbox.
Peter Marwood: Nothing.
Withnail: Liar. You've got antifreeze.
Peter Marwood: You bloody fool. You should never mix your drinks

another one
Peter Marwood: What about whatshisname?
Withnail: What about him?
Peter Marwood: Why don't you give him a call?
Withnail: What for?
Peter Marwood: Ask him about his house.
Withnail: You want me to call whatshisname and ask him about his house?
Peter Marwood: Why not? Withnail: Alright. What's his number?
Peter Marwood: I've no idea. I've never met him.
Withnail: Well neither have I. What the fuck are you talking about?

Movies like these bring out the times so perfectly giving us more than just a peek.Some movies are so real, you feel like you have been caught in their lives and lived it like the movie has it.This one surely has to fall in that category.

i am terribly hungover with its feel.

The Israeli Pandit

David Shulman's achievement here .

Some pictures from the Reading Pride Festival

Won't you come and see me just this once ?

Shobana, is possesed with the ghost of a former dancer and dances awkwardly while the psychatrist, her husband and the one whom she fancies to be her co-dancer watch on.

Keep watching to see some lovely steps by the duo later in the court/durbar .Shobana and her partner are so graceful.This is the dance sequence from the original of the film Chandramukhi (almost a silly parody)- "Manichitratazh".

The song itself is sung in Tamil while the film is in the Malayalam language to show the influence of the ghost on the Ganga(Shobana) who loses her identity to the ghost of the dancer .It is set to the Kunthalavarali raga in which there is also a very popular thillana by Sri Balamuralikrishna.

The video maybe viewed here.

Shobana, is possesed with the ghost of a former dancer and dances awkwardly. Keep watching to see some lovely steps by the duo later in the court/durbar .Shobana and her partner are so graceful.<br /><br />This is the dance sequence from the original of Chandramukhi (almost a silly parody)- Manichitratazh (Malayalam).<br /><br />Please view on youtube as the file does not allow embedding.

Let us cover the world with our footprints.

Is it true that, with every footstep we take we leave a piece of ourselves behind?
Then , quicken your steps ,kanna , we have a long way to walk... so we can leave behind a loving, caring earth for our children !!

Ah! somebody from the moon spites at our footprints calling them kidney beans. Well, let him know that his moon is all pock marked !!!

No smoking !!

Our love is all the cigarettes in this world, don't let it go to smoke. ;p

Love (b)

Our love, many years later, will be reborn as a flower.Watch out, that little boy is coming for our heads .

POp !!!pop !!!!


Let us grant him his wish :)

Love (a)

Our love is a sanctum sanctorum . Please leave your dirty footwear outside !!

Bathful of Music

Bath Spa , United Kingdom .

Roman Baths , Cathedrals, Jane Austen centre, 8 crescents are the feathers on the city's cap but i wanted to tell you about something else .....

Bath Spa has great taste in music,i was thrilled to see so many musicians on the streets playing happily,especially old numbers from rock and roll (70s)
One small band of 3 - all in their teens were playing with a cello(pizzicato) , guitar , some jalras and a blow keyboard .Another flutist offered to attempt some
Jethro Tull on my request.Near the abbey a Xylophone played so hauntingly and in the gardens by the Avon they had a "free" flowing wind band play
tunes like April in Paris ,While my guitar gently weeps et al.... oooooo wasn't it love-ly !!!
They were simply refreshing .

Definitely my favorite place.Would go there any day !!!!.

here is the original version of what the 3-teen band were playing on the streets :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tHbPD_bXaOA&mode=related&search=

listen to this ...and tell me if the intial badabada or nanana part sounds familiar -
remember the tune and try to slow it down in your hum.... and tell me if it rings any bells...

Promises

Some promises die with people,they are kept thus.

Your BC

You have grown so much, so differently , but i shy away from saying it.
You handle things so efficiently, men, work, and more but you are still my little girl.
You brush through some books , call for the taxi ,adjust your hair ,
step tall on your stilletos, stack your certificates in a file .
You wear your make-up well ,but i can see through those patches that you are nervous about this interview.

Your birth certificate is as old as you - yellowed with time,
i run my hands on its many creases and folds.i pick it up
and a whiff of Napthalene hits me.
The stubborn dog ears just refuse to straighten up .

As i wave to you , i am somehow reminded of the "Picture of Dorian Gray".

She lived happily under there ever afterwards .

She could paint, sing, dance, act and write and run.

But many years later as she sat at the table to convey her soul
her prose fell short of words ,
lyrics dangled loosely about her song,
language stifled her thoughts,
rhythm beat her thoughts off and
her ragas were punched with notes astray.

So she decided to dig a hole.
The deeper her thoughts traveled ,the more she dug.

She lived happily under there ever afterwards .

Grace is Black !

Vividha

Shivaji - The boss

Post script first :

All this rant is not worth your while or mine .

But if you are willing to go ahead anyway, please do .......

After much hype and hoopla about Shivaji we set out from our town Reading, no not in Nagapattinam but in the UK to Feltham to watch it .It is my first ever Rajni movie and after a news-knows-how-many crores shell out i expected it to stimulate my senses /sensibilities a trifle bit .

Scene after scene the movie crushed my spirits ,stomped over my sensibilities and scratched my soul with its screechy nails.I have often been warned that logic doesn't figure in such movies and i put aside that bit of my brain, actually all of it in the closet before we set out . The movie has Rajni aka Shivaji - the idealist wanting to build colleges, schools, hospitals for the poor and needy.After many crushed attempts,the tired Rajni becomes Robinhood and changes black money to Ujala white.
All fine and eternal sunshine, until now.
Along with this main dish came french overfry jokes from Vivek and sloppy tomato sauce Shriya gyrating to cluttered music.
All this stampede my poor soul bore and bore .
I have been warned and i ask no more .

But my thumb (these days my soul resides here) felt sore when :
Rajni wants Tamizh Kalachara Pen so why let Shriya's small dresses scream with suffocation ? (logic please please stay away)
Shriya sheds her mel aadai and runs in front of a train to stop it from Rajni whose foot is stuck in the tracks.Eye candy with soda brandy !This is just what a Tamizh Pen should do .
Rajni comes up with "witty" dialogue about colour discrimination ?Aha you have made a point Mr.Rajni butwhat about scenes when you cringe on seeing two nubile girls who have been painted black ?
On being asked to sing, Kalachara Pen Shriya sings Theeradha Vilayattu pillai and Mr Smartass Vivek sneers at her ?
She dances a classical number and you demand a ghostly Raa Raa ?
You poo-poo away dwarves in a song sequence .So this is how equally you see your makkal ?

All this made me realise that 60 crores of reeking money cannot even by mistake produce anything sensible .But what totally threshed the poor thing was when i turned around to see lots of asians (many thanks to software) feeding their kids with such things .i wanted to leap across and shut every unblinking pair of small eyes that were gaping at this monstrosity.But i silently put my thumb(soul) in my mouth instead.

My soul and belief in humankind is lying low for a while .
For a long time now it will be music,nature, swans,
.................................................... sense ,quiet and frowns.

All this said i pause while entering the publish button . All this rant is not worth your while or mine .Why must i even bother ?i hope to sleep this night and wake up next morning and consider it all a nightmare .
i wore my logic back and she types in bold Verdana :
Let the world rest kid but not on your shoulders .

Chennai-Two faces of a expanding metropolis

warts and beauty spots

Traffic Jam - Writer's block

Goppa Deivama ?

Some art moves you,some others affect you so deeply you stand still
and the world seems to stop for that moment .

Chinna NAde NA Cheyyi PattiTheevo emotes Tyagayya's tete-a-tete with Lord Rama
where he promises to hold his hand and lead him through.Tyagaraja asks Rama if he is now pondering about whether to hold his hand or let him go .

The lines "Goppa Deivama ? "seem to bring out such an emotion which will take a million colours to paint ,another few million words to describe . A feeling mixed with sarcasm,sorrow the lines emote so beautifully .

It is such a wonder that after so many many years an unrecorded tune should bring forth his deepest feelings, so well preserved .Such bold dialogues with what is Beyond,such intimacy finding that which is beyond within,such dejection, such a tune ,such words ,such truth ,such poetry,such so many things .....

It seems when art is produced with all truth it captures a thought so well and frees it from the cycle of time .Thus arresting it forever.

To be able to connect in some small way to such a soul , shakes me "still".

Here DK Jayaraman presents the song .

Here is a link to Shashank playing a sedate Chinnanadena.


p.s : sometimes links to Musicindiaonline do not function .Please use the search tool at those times.

Chak Chak Chak .....................

The fan cut the air
in circles as they lay spent
Love is in the air.

A few pennies worth

23C vs Vovlo (Office bus)

Spicy Recipes , steamy gossip , hot politics ,stinging whistles,fiery arguments seemed to compete with the madras heat .As the din of daily exchange rose , she snuggled into a comfortable alapanai in Amruthavarshini and let it wash everything away and giggled as she imagined a "chiiiiiiiiiiiissssssssssssssssssssshhhhhh" sound.She was thankful there was no radio on the bus.

In a purrfect world

.... thunder strikes when the cat is away .

Life ends , art lives on .

The aim of every artist is to arrest motion, which is life, by artificial means and hold it fixed so that a hundred years later, when a stranger looks at it, it moves again since it is life. Since man is mortal, the only immortality possible for him is to leave something behind him that is immortal since it will always move. This is the artist’s way of scribbling ‘Kilroy was here’ on the wall of the final and irrevocable oblivion through which he must someday pass.—William Faulkner

Twilight zone

May in UK

Night creeps in and floods me with a despair of having wasted the day.
At nine pm daylight lingers around and plays day for me to use well .

For me these zones spell Hope !

bits of blah

After a cup of coffee, after a book ...............

"i am depressed , i want to read a lot and just die ."


"fair enough"

On Advertisements

Please open your mouth wide , while i stuff this down your throat !!!

1 to 10

First impressions,
secondary love,
third night,
fourth lover,
fifth condom,
sixth sense,
seventh fight,
Eight PM,
nine lies,
Ten is when she's gone.

venkat siddareddy

Aiming High - A Hero for Real

http://www.1stindian7summits.com/

Kudos to Malli Mastan Babu !!

Just a thought

I feel that great souls like Sri Vivekananda , Sri Aurobindo - people with a higher realm of thinking die but their greatness is distributed amongst many souls to be born .

One very nice observation that came across while watching Kathakali, is that the characters of noble bearing are painted green while the ones that are evil are tainted green with red streaks(depicting evil). Characters like Ravana in Ramayana are also developed with such an interesting combination of good , bad , beautiful and the ugly .Unlike many films which have only shades of Black and white for people's characters .

Ideally Nature tries to establish a balance between good and bad . For without bad around ,how will we know the good ?

So everybody has in their souls a dialogue between this distributed greatness and their own nature(own soul) .
It depends on this "own soul " to recognise and bring out such greatness or to totally extinguish it .
Reading , watching life ,experiencing pain , joys , thinking , being good ,music et al aid in cultivating such greatness.

From the Gitanjali

I came out alone on my way to my tryst. But who is this that follows me in the silent dark?
I move aside to avoid his presence but I escape him not.
He makes the dust rise from the earth with his swagger; he adds his loud voice to every word that I utter.
He is my own little self, my lord, he knows no shame; but I am ashamed to come to thy door in his company.

Tagore

Hiroshima Mon amour

Madness is like intelligence.You can't explain it.Just like intelligence.
It comes over you ,consumes you ..........and then you understand.

But when it's gone.You no longer understand it at all.


Hiroshima Mon amour (1959)
http://www.film.u-net.com/Movies/Reviews/Hiroshima_Amour.html

Madman dies - Anonymous

The book was being made into a movie after 25 years .It was cult all the way . People loved it,reread it, thought it ,breathed it , killed after it , died for it .

Nobody ever took him seriously . Not his wife , nor his friends at the bar when he said that it was his child , that he wrote it .No honour would be paid , no newspaper would scream his name .Not even when he passed away, alone by the fountain,this May hugging the book close.... very close.

Have been here

http://www.ecse.rpi.edu/Homepages/shivkuma/personal/music/index.html

To learn more and know more about Carnatic Music .