Oh no, MJ has gone away!

MJ in my favourite stage of his life -- the looks, music, everything

Michael Jackson (MJ)

The news of Michael Jackson's death has pushed me out of my inactive mode on this blog. He is one of my all-time favourite musicians. I was around 10 when I first heard his 'Beat It', 'Thriller' and 'Billie Jean'...and my father got the newly released 'Thriller' video and its making, for my sis and me. We watched it nearly everyday until we had the whole thing by heart -- the steps, the moves, the songs (we blabbered most of the words thanks to his style of singing), the dialogues...even the details of the make up, as he was a werewolf in that, and agonised over his chemistry with 'that girl' who had acted with him in 'Thriller'.

The 'Thriller' link, a must-watch: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Xs9OQHpwDE

I was really upset at the news of his death this morning, much to most people's surprise. I cannot say why I am so upset. It may be because I associate MJ with some great memories. He enriched my musical inclinations. He along with 'Wham' was 'up there' at one point for me, both literally and figuratively. Their posters were all over the walls at home.

I am going to list out the memories I have in connection with MJ...as a tribute to this awesome performer who is no more. I actually harboured secret hopes of attending one of his concerts somewhere in the world...sigh.

• I got my own room around the 'Beat It' song period -- small room no doubt, but my 'own' nevertheless. Own room with own tape recorder so I could listen to my own music. A lot of it MJ.
• I would listen to him religiously, so much so that my 80 year old grandad in the next room decided he needed to know what the fuss was all about and borrowed the Michael jackson tape from me. This was a typical, religious thaathaa who performed 2-3 hour long poojais every day! He seemed to quite enjoy it and only returned it after ten days or so when I made him!
• For a time, everyday after school, I would watch 'Thriller' with utmost fascination. Like a ritual.
• That was the first time I ever heard of a werewolf and my sis and I are were thereafter inspired to watch the 'adult film' titled an american werewolf in London which in turn, had inspired MJ to make 'Thriller'.
• I had fun entertaining my sis with the steps from the 'Thriller' video. No doubt, even the thought of this will entertain all now;)
• At that point MJ with his trademark crotch-clutching moves never struck me as vulgar. It was just a unique thing he did. Thankfully, I considered it inimitable so never tried it.
• I did try his moonwalk and it looked like nothing on earth...hey, after all, it was the moonwalk, heh heh. I think I fell a few times trying it since the floor and my footwear had to be slippery for me to accomplish a moonwalk. My older sis, the only privileged audience-member no doubt, was kept thoroughly mesmerised by my antics.
• When MJ performed Billi Jean on stage, it was fantastic. Truly one of the best stage performances I have ever seen. I still like it.
• Sadly, at ten and just above, hailing from Tamilnadu and based in the South of India, it was rather difficult for me to make out the words of his songs, which limited my rendering these numbers anywhere. His gasps, rasps and weird little breaths and noises, hoots, etc. in his songs required an extraordinary amount of guts to even try and imitate! BUT, it was super fun singing my versions of his words.
• It bothered me greatly that I felt he sounded girlish. And strangely, although I knew he was a guy and I was crazy about his music, I never had a crush on him in the romantic way. (I had way too many crushes back then!) I had a huge MJ fixation alright, but I guess he was too thin and too non-masculine-sounding for any romance!*sniff*
• The actual music in his songs even today is simply fabulous.
• His obsession with colour, black or white, never bothered me. I simply did not care since his music and performances were above colour. So, literally, I must tell him: it don't matter if you're black or white. However, I must say I preferred him black anyday.:-) It suited him so well.
• I had a poster of MJ's gifted to me by my Dad who adopted the if-you-can't-beat-'em, join 'em way, since he was the one who would bring us the latest music from all over the world and therefore the reason for the MJ craze in our home. This poster was not a very flattering one and my sis who was never a sucker for obsession as I am, simply refused to let me put it up in 'our' room. (Read: 'her' room -- one of the reasons I moved out into my own smaller room, hmph. The poster-decisions were all hers!)) . I did not want to put it up in my new room for what reason I forget... oh, yes, the poster was simply too LARGE, and so, I put it up in our bathroom, the one shared by my mom, sis and me. It was fixed with some new, then-latest, extremely effective adhesive blobs right opposite 'the throne', so that MJ would look down on us as we downloaded you-know-what-on-the-pot(!). My mom would get extremely annoyed and frustrated every time she went to the loo saying 'he makes me uncomfortable'. :-). When we finally decided to take it off after some years(!), I ended up giving it away to one highly grateful-to-the-point-of-tears, crazy-about-MJ classmate called Gina, whose claim to fame in school WAS being MAD about Michael Jackson. Hey Gina, wherever you are (I hardly knew you I know!), I wonder if even you are this moved today with MJ gone. If you are still an MJ fan, let me raise a glass in toast with you then...to MJ!
• At that point (early teens, etc.) when I saw any live concerts of his on TV, I would be amazed at the hysteria amongst the audience. Girls weeping, others clutching at their heads (even men), throwing off clothes, etc. I never understood that as I was too young. Frighteningly, I understand it now. Mob mentality catches on, I guess!
• In the song 'We are the World' (USA for Africa), he was easily the most interesting singer. Loved his parts. A very 'fervent' singer. Really felt his music. That was his specialty. Not to forget to mention his superb dancing skills.

'Billie Jean' video link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8VASYhabHkM Don't miss the moonwalk!

I don't think any of my friends 'got' MJ like I did then. I think Gina and I (I was more understated!) were the only ones in our class at school who really liked him so much. I guess the Tamil/Indian imitations of MJ's antics including Prabhu Deva, put people off! Ha ha.

Me, I still regularly listen to his numbers...

The scary case against him was indeed scary...but since he was acquitted, I am going with his innocence!

Amazing what music can do for you and to you. My favourites of his songs are Thriller, Beat It, Billie Jean, The way you make me feel, Girl is Mine, Bad, Wanna Be Startin' Something, and Ben, One Day in your life, Rockin' Robin when MJ was a kid, and many more.

May the King of Pop's soul rest in peace ...or perhaps even be reincarnated for some even better music if possible. That would suit us MJ fans just fine.

You had to be there.

My two old friends and I. We have known each other for twenty odd years and can just 'click' like we have never been apart, even when we have not seen each other for some years. That evening, we were to have headed for Subway for the healthy sandwiches, what with the word DIET trailing us and snapping at our heels all the while. BUT, we managed to kick it off in the nick of time and headed towards Cascade (a chinese restaurant) for some Indian-Chinese food. We had even parked outside Subway but a quick conference paved the way for an evening of confusion at Cascade -- with one not mentioning that she did not like Chinese, and the other not mentioning that she was on a strict diet. I was the third who was OK with both Subway and Chinese -- GRR.

With this suspense hanging heavily in the air (although I did not realise it then since I love Chinese ...and all the damn frieds that it means here in India), we parked outside Cascade. Just after some 'hi--what-fun-to-see-you-again' giggles (childhood friends DO that), we got into the elevator and actually went up three floors and down with no apparent aim, while continuing the staring around and giggling. Finally, we learned that Cascade was on the fourth floor and got there. We insisted on a corner table owing to our past history of wrecking nearby patrons' quiet evenings with our guffaws and (unnecessary) giggles, and settled down for dinner.

Then it came out. One was unwilling to eat the 'just anything' that I wanted to order as she was not supposed to be eating the wrong foods (sniff*sniff* like I am!), and the other was all 'la di da' about thick soup vs clear soup and such. I was so hungry I could have eaten the both of them and so, I proceeded to order my favourites. When I am hungry, I don't see red; I just see what I like on the menu and demand it!

The food arrived and the 'no-food' one proceeded to slurp quietly on her apparently very bad soup (It was a tomato and spinach combo -- what do you expect?) and the La di da one complaining loudly and for the first time, that she did not like Chinese. I decided to get mad AFTER I had attended to the Hungry Henry in me and did just that. After much 'we SHOULD have had subway' and 'why the hell did n't you tell me?' and 'what's WRONG with you?', we paid up, packed for a doggy we do not have and headed to the beachside looking for a strawberry ice cream that La di da wanted to have. "I want a strawberry ice cream and not from just 'any'where", said she. History has always seen us eating, drinking and making, and so we dogged after the elusive ice cream. After a few bad-luck-no strawberry flavour-heres, we finally found a yum ice cream joint on the beach side. We entered after La di da had finished dramatically dodging the various dogs that happened only her way. She has always been petrified of them so we two others did not bat an eyelid at her antics, whines and fearful pleas.

The ice cream place had no strawberry flaour, but I was running late and pointed frantically and convincingly to a Ferrero Rocher flavour. Next. La di da wanted a cone ice cream. This was really not our night cos the guy had no cones left but he pointed to a floppy waffle like thing made of the same biscuity-cone stuff, masquerading it as a 'cup'. The No-food girl said 'my, that looks like a very tired cone!' and that started us off on our laughter train. Cackle cackle cackle. In that confined space, the ice cream guy looked rather taken aback at this unabashed show of cackles. This made things funnier.
You had to be there.

La di da cheerfully accepted the floppy cone and so we asked for two scoops with three spoons. While he did the needful, No-food asked for toppings as she gazed longingly at all the ice-cream posters stuck on the wall. The guy said there were no toppings and that they would get them next week! That set us off. "Here's your ice cream. Come back for toppings next week" we told each other and began guffawing even louder than the cackles. I laughed so hard, I actually dripped ice cream from my mouth!
You had to be there.

The guy decided that he could do nothing about us and proceeded with the bill. Clearly, he was used to crazies! We stumbled out with La di da holding on to her floppy cone for dear life. And then she began her usual mumbling as we stood by the road.."If a dog comes from somewhere now, I might leap into the air and my ice cream will go flying...", she said. As usual, No-food and I ignored her. In fact within a few seconds, I spied a smart doggy galloping towards us and I considered teasing her by startling her at the last minute, but decided against it since we each had a spoon and were digging into the ice cream with gusto. I could not allow that tasty ice cream to go flying. I told her casually (so as not to alarm her) that there is a dog on the way so she stiffened until he passed although he did not deign to give her even a first glance!

Then, glancing around, we read the ice cream poster on the wall -- it said the ice creams were '68% air'. Wahh? That set us off again -- that we were eating ice cream that contained air.
You had to be there.

Regretful that the evening was coming to a close, we headed for the car since it was getting late and then made plans to meet up again soon. We were quite light headed and heavy-bodied from the laughs, chinese and ice cream. T'was fun.

Nothing like uncontrollable laughs with old friends, eh?:)

Really, you had to be there!

Cheers!

Weighty tale

Further to and with reference to my previous post, I must reiterate that I don't want to share 'stuff' in 'bublic' (thanks, Shyam) although I do express my gratitude to Sundar for encouraging me to, he he.


I did, on one occasion, not manage to avoid sharing this particular info (weighing scale figure) with someone. It was in 1991. My dream then was to become a pilot. We had just moved into a new house in a new neighbourhood and our next door 'mama' was a nosy one. We called him 'M-square(d)' -- i.e., Mottai Mama (Bald Uncle). Sometimes, when he stood on his terrace, we would call him M-to-the-power-of-4 (Mottai Mama on a Mottai Maadi).


Sadly, he knew my dad quite well apparently, and came over for a cuppa one morning. My Dad chose that morning to share with him that I had this aim of becoming a pilot. M-Squared was also pretty know-it-all (empty vessels and all that) and, say-it-all. I froze as I was passing that way, that minute, and looked back.

I should n't have. I was beckoned. I went, but not without reluctance. MM looked me up and down brazenly and said: "Pilot? I also used to fly". (YEAH, RIGHT) "Hmmm. How much do you weigh?". At that 'eng' age, it's difficult to avoid answering direct questions from wolder people. I thought wildly about coming out with a wisecrack or two instead, but decided against it. Like a bandaid, best done swiftly. I told him my weight. (Yeah, am not telling you now either!) To that, he exclaimed: "Oh, you really need to lose weight before they let you become a pilot!" How sweet, thank you, MM. Like I did n't know.


Thing was, he himself was pretty big. Hard to imagine him inside a Cessna 152 aircraft unless doubled over and halved.


However, the truth is, to learn flying, you only need a medical certificate that says you're 'OK' (not FIT, just OK) and more importantly, you need much guts. Which of course, was not a problem, big gut and all. So... problem solved.



Gosh do I have more such tales up my sleeve!

At the gym

I have many gym tales to share and have done so before. Here is one more very tame one.


Having a personal trainer at the gym is...very personal. Really. Among other things, he or she will get to know your vital statistics (and very vital they are!!), and he or she knows your innermost desires and needs and supposedly, chalks out the path to 'there' for you. Right. So you are overweight and not the kind of person who would go around sharing your weight (in kgs) with all and sundry the way some skinny folks do...or the ones who have no weight issues. You know the type: -

"Arre, I think I have lost two kilos ONLY yaa, and I have two more to go. "
Hrrumph.

"My target is 50 kgs! Now, I weigh 51."
Hee haw.

"My aim is to lose 3 kilos -- they are JUST not goinnnng."
Barf!

"I have been the same weight for twenty years -- I was 62 when I finished college and I am still 62. Maybe a kilo or two here and there, but I quickly pull it down with my regular walking and I don't take frieds...sweets..."
Stop talking, stop talking NOW.

"I was 60 kgs after my delivery and now, I am 54."
SWAT!


Buzz off little bees, this post is not for you.


So with the personal trainer, it's like you have just shared your deepest, darkest secret with him, and he is still conscious(!!!), he knows your fitness level and is generally quite encouraging if not downright pushy...and therefore, you don't TOTALLY freak out when he says after a few days of workout: "Now, let's check your weight again, shall we?". I did n't freak out but I balked. "I don't want to..." I whined. "If I don't see good news, I will become depressed." In his usual nonchalant personal-trainer way he said "Well, who is asking YOU to look? I want to see, don't worry, there WILL be a difference." OKKAY. Have hope, faith and charity.



So I trudged along with him to a room that had two guys (gym staff) hanging around. 'My guy' goes in and switches on the weighing machine. Stupid digital thing that counts up to the last grams in your body! I looked at the two guys (gym staff) who were standing there and they seemed pretty much rooted to the ground. Now, having had many many bad social experiences at gyms, I tensed, hoping...willing them away. What did they think? That I was Aishwarya Rai who had signed up for weight gain? Sheesh. Now, I never used to be the outspoken, snappy type either, for the idiotic desire to 'be nice'. But this time I was fed up. Exasperated. Even my trainer did n't get it. And this was a small room, mind you, the size of a 4 star hotel bathroom. Quite a crowd in there for the momentous moment! I finally asked those two hangers-around, "Do you REALLY think I want an audience right now?". Thankfully, they took THAT hint and murmured sorrys and dashed out. I got the act over with (not sharing anything more here, heh heh) and when I came out, the two guys apologised again but I was quite happy that they DID leave the room at the crucial moment, so I brushed it all off.


This was not rude on my part if you consider what some of those same gym's trainers have said to me in the past.



Honestly.

What's the meaning?

There is many a supposed-Tamil word / slang that is most amusing to hear and which I dare not use mostly because I don't really know their meanings.

The following swear words commonly used on Chennai roads especially by autorickshaw drivers, bus and automobile 'drivers' and cyclists: -
1. Bemani
2. Porampohkku
3. Saavukraki or Saavucracky
4. Somari
There are more on my list of Tamil words the meanings of which I don't know, but this list has been based on a gut feeling (!) that makes them seem safe to ask out in the open.

Going by the sounds only, my personal favourite is somari. Sounds so cute(!!) and crisp although yes, I do realise it is used to call someone a'bad name' like stupid or idiot. Porampohkku is also quite satisying when you swirl it around your mouth rolling the RRRs in true, dramatic Tamil style!Bemani sounds downright funny while Saavukraki I feel has something to do with a person who courts death ...or loves courting death.

!!!!

Love 'Pannu'!

We Tamils have embraced some English words and phrases with aplomb. Even folks who supposedly speak and understand ONLY Tamil, will be able to understand these. Most of the thanks would go to Kollywood, for making these phrases popular. Examples are..

"Youuuuuuuuuu....SHUT UP!"

"STOP IT!"

"Will you please GET OUT?"

"Bullshit" (pronounced 'Bullsheet')

"Damn It" (Okay, 'it' is almost always 'eet'.)

"Beautiful!"

...And so on. Not the least of these is the phrase "I love you". I think 99% of the films must feature at lease one dialogue which is 'I LOVE YOU'.

Ickily, a Bollywood film even shortened 'I Love You' to ILU.
UGH and BLEWACK!

We in Tamilnadu have translated the phrase "Do you love me?" to "Nee yenna love pannriya?". Now "Love pannriya" actually translates into English as 'Make' or 'Do' love! Curiously, we usually pretend-bashful folks should have been alert to this and scrambled to change it. But, no. "Love Pannu" (Make or do love) is now the accepted phrase associated with being in love, that's most prevalent in Kollywood. This adoption is so overboard and curious that there is even a song which has the reglar refrain that sings out "Love Pannu".

Do check it out at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8PV_hS7WRE4&feature=related

So funny.

Cheers!

Chained to ...what???

Dealing with forwards is not for everyone. I used to detest forwards, thinking that they were very impersonal until I started enjoying some of the funny, clever ones. Very useful stress busters they can be at times.

Forwards or forwarded emails are either sincerely despised by the recepient (cos they feel they deserve better -- like a hello, how are you, I miss you, take care!- sort of mail), or rank low on the recepient's priority(IFF I have free time, I will read them, else, will delete them to clear my inbox), or, of course, rank very very high (Yayyyy!Yay boy yay! Some fun in in my inbox). For the third section of recepients, it's like your postman delivering you mail -- remember those good old days? Was n't it so very exciting to receive letters? It used to be the highlight of my day to receive hand written letters.

Sigh. *Moment of nostalgia*

Okay -- done. (Nothing lasts very long these days, huh?)

Forwards. I have friends who have flatly told me not to send them any. Still others who say nothing at all about them and of course some who actually want to discuss a particularly funny or thought-provoking forward or two.

I also have my moments with forwards. Most times, I am enthusiastic but sometimes, I can ignore them. No way am I averse to them because they can be quite entertaining and somewhat equal to being in touch -- it shows you at least 'flashed' through the sender's mind for a moment indicating they thought of you that day! Many friends send me forwards which I kindly pass on to who I think are delighted readers.(!!)

However...

There are the chain mails. They threaten you with serious consequences if you don't pass them on to others. Even though I know they are stupid and meaningless, they irk. Why try to bother someone that way? Very silly indeed. So, I refuse to entertain them.

Exaggerated examples are:-
If you don't send this to 5 people in the next fifteen minutes, your nose will grow longer...
Me: Great, saves me the trouble of finding a plastic surgeon.

If you don't send this to 6 women in the next 6 minutes, you will grow six horns...
Me: Hmmm. Maybe the six horns will distract others from my many bad-hair days?

If you delete this email, YOU will be deleted from ...LIFE...
Me: Same to you. Good bye.

If you don't send this email to 20 people in the next 10 minutes something BAD will happen to you...
Me: I feel like doing something BAD to you right now!

The thing is, the folks who send me these chain mails are generally pretty sensible ...or so I would have thought until I receive the said forward! Actually, this fact makes me think I am far more sensible than them, heh heh. And to think I thought I was a silly billy!

Cheers!
P.S. Oh and I am also not a fan of those holier-than-thou, goodie goodie email forwards that have flowers and cute animals crawling all over them, advising you on life (no less!AHEM). However, in an indulgent mood, I can pass them along...although I do always select my recepients with care.

No worries!

What does 'no worries' mean exactly?


Because, I suspect that it meant one thing (apart from one actually having no worries, i.e.!) and then, is used generally and freely these days.


Me: I don't have a pen.
The other: No worries.
(I get it)


Me: Thanks a lot.
The other: No worries.
(I don't get it)


Me: Sorry about that.
The other: No worries.
(I get it)


Me: That was so nice of you!
The other: No worries.
(Eh?)

Virtually there

People seem to be living much of their lives virtually these days. Chatting with friends, browsing,'facebooking', orkuting, blog hopping, commenting with passion and even arguing their 'some-parts' off on subjects they feel strongly about, never mind the audience...and so on.

This is the world the world seems to be turning...virtually!

And then, there are the games on your comp that can keep you busy for hours, even days, if you did not have to eat, work and sleep.

I would love to play some of those games myself. But I won't. As it is, I feel I am quite addicted to my comp. Throw in these games and I will be hooked for too many more hours. Game or no game, interesting or not, enjoyable passtime or no, imagine wasting away in front of a machine! No, you don't have to imagine. Just look around or peek into that mirror again! I did and it is a scary thought.

I really worry that this trend is more unhealthy than we give it debit for (!!my poorly earned BCOM degree comes to mind) and is not going to take us to any 'good place'. Soon, people will just be happy to see their virtual pals online for the chat of the day, express themselves through words or smileys or whatever else online and completely miss out on the real folks and things they have access to.

Either that, or people have too much free time when they ought to be ...WORKING???!

I do love the Internet and its possibilities. I can keep in touch on a daily or hourly or even minute-ly basis with people most geographically distanced from me and the cost is like peanuts! It's wonderful. But this good thing can easily become too much of one!

Me, I don't ever want to become a nerd. I am quite the social animal -- you know, that's the animal that is getting closer to extinction all the time. The same animal that does extensive research on other animals facing extinction! Soon, man will be just an animal.

I exaggerate?

This post ends here, so that I can quickly return to my REAL world.;)

Ow, ow, owwww!

Like Hobbes pouncing on Calvin with one flying leap from the top of the stairs.(Arrrrrrrrrgggggggggh!)

Like Jerry chomping on Tom's tail. (Yowwwwwwwwwww!)

Like hitting your elbow on a hard, sharp edge when you least expect to. (ohhhhhhhhhhhhhoh)

That's how it was getting my eyebrows shaped. I was in a constant state of 'OWW'. Not a delicate Ouch, but a real 'OWWWWW'. Sure, many many many a woman gets it done without batting an eyelid. But either such a woman has really thick skin, or she just likes pain!!

Thread, thread, thread, pull, pull, pull, pluck, pluck, pluck.
Pluck is what you need, I tell you, to get your eyebrows done.

Why then?
Social pressures. Oh what a fickle world this is!

I determinedly avoided getting them done for the longest time and even for the 'specialest' of special occasions, but then finally caved in. The face clears up and looks a tad better, you know!

I also started grinning in between all the OWs -- and this is the thought that got me through -- in the sitcom Friends, Joey for some reason had ended up in a beautician's chair to get his eyebrows shaped. The moment she begins, his reaction is one of complete shock at the pain. Finally, he runs away from her with one eyebrow shaped and one eyebrow 'as is'. SO true.

Why oh why does everything that makes you 'better' have to be so difficult? Eyebrow plucking, waxing, exercising (there are days your body just won't move even, leave alone move quickly), staying away from frieds and sweets, waking up early to get that damn worm(!), cutting short a nice juicy chat on the phone to hit the bed early....the list is endless.

Does it all really 'build character' as Calvin's Dad says?

Why not just be a hairy, flabby, lethargic slob? Huh?

Oh wait, I know the answer.

It's ...............................................BECAUSE!

Say cheese!

Posing for photos is quite an art. I know many people who when called to strike a pose, would do just that. Smile cheerily and toothily and respond to 'say cheese' with...just that. "CHEEEESE", they would say. Click. Photo taken and no qualms. All's well that ends well.

Then there are those like me. When confronted with a camera wielding human, I freeze instead of saying cheese. Then I think furiously about whether I look presentable enough to be featured in a snap. And then, I think about whether I want to be looking serious or all smiley. By the time I finish with my thought processes, the 'click' would have happened and I will be left glaring helplessly after the photographer.

At a recent family celebration, there was a professional photographer on the prowl. I forgot about his omnipresence (!) as I went about 'mosskufying' (gorging) on some yummy starters like Cauliflower Manchurian and Baby Corn pepper salt, then had a quick drink and settled into a chair somewhat sated(!). As is natural, a burp then followed. Alas! the burp coincided with the much dreaded 'click' sound. I looked up in dismay only to see the photographer actually looking disapprovingly at me. Like it was my fault he clicked my burp. Yes, apparently, he had captured my just-burped expression. Hmph. Not a pretty picture, I am sure.

Now, I don't burp that much, in fact, I hardly burp. I don't like the sound or the taste of a burp. And now ...this. I told him in no uncertain terms that I would pose for him again but that he would have to delete that unfortunate picture. He looked back at the burpy picture and agreed with me! Ugh. A part of me wanted to see it but I thought I did not want to put a serious dent in my self esteem and so thought the better of it. I posed again and I suppose it came out quite well. (Hiiiya)

I just hope he deleted the burped up snap.

I have always been wary of these 'photographers on the prowl'. Now I know why.

Happy with a shrug

Slumdog Millionaire bagged 8 awards. ARRahman as music director won two. Super!

But was it ARR's best work?

No, I think.

Let's face it, slumdog millionaire was a good platform (British director) to give the world a glimpse of Indian talent, that's all. Of course, ARR has given us much fab music. And great that he got away with two big ones at the Oscars and created history. Good for him too. Sure, we are proud and thrilled for him. It's like winning a major competition.

But why are Oscars so important to us?

Filmy talk -- 'Naan Kadavul'

"Aham Brahmasmi" is the protagonist's refrain in the film 'Naan Kadavul'. Don't ask me what that means exactly, but I think it means 'I am God' because that's what Naan Kadavul means!

I am sure I cannot elucidate as I should about this film because I am not very knowledgeable on the subject involved. But since this is my blog, I am going to say it like it feels to me.;)

The film is not particularly enjoyable because it revolves around beggars and a sect of sanyasis or sadhus (is there a difference?) called agoris, who are apparently equipped with superior knowledge and insight, as they seem to know how to differentiate the evil from the good with the naked eye. i.e. just by looking at the person. They also believe they have the power to eliminate the evil person. They also believe that they can help a much-suffered soul to attain moksha -- and free him from this life and all future births if they deem fit.

The part of the film that focusses on the agoris is most interesting. The part of the film that focusses on beggar rings, the heartless monsters who run them and the beggars themselves, takes you from depression to anxiety to fear to hatred to repulsion and then to feeling very very sorry for the pathetic victims -- the beggars, that is. The humour that the director (Bala) brings out from the general characters of the film as opposed to usual, 'designated comedians' is commendable and somewhat incongruous (because the beggars seem to enjoy a wonderful sense of humour), but utterly believable.

Then comes a revelation -- the actress Pooja. Honestly, I thought she was only fit to run around trees like a mindless glam girl. But in this film where she plays a blind and most pathetic beggar, she has done very very well. Damn near steals the show. I just hope she dubbed for herself. This is something that always bugs me about many of the Tamil heroines. Anyway, she is no 'heroine' in this film. Just a blind girl to whom a viewer's heart can not only go out to, but in the process, get as battered and broken as the character does! Sigh.

It also had many scenes that say 'accept the disabled into your picture'...as we should. As we had better, rather!

Then comes my favourite -- Arya. This guy is 'wow'. He has always been a good actor(in the few films he has acted in), but in this film, he really gets into the groove and plays his role to the hilt. He has readied his physical appearance for the role and manages many scenes with aplomb in spite of wearing the barest minimum clothing. This takes him nowhere near a pin up boy or anything (!!) because this is simply not that type of film and I am sure there are hardly any other actors who would dare to bare as he does. Male or female, we are not in the garden of Eden & so, this attempt to shed clothes and extra weight, grow hair and maintain it as unkempt, etc. etc. is commendable as it lends a great deal of crediblity to the role. And the scenes where he stands on his head are simply mindblowing. Serious admiration in progress...

This is not a film for those who love sweeping 'unpleasantries' under the carpet or for those who prefer to stay away from films that contain no romance or flowery scenes, show of riches and unnecessary fights. It is also not for people who cannot stand violence or bloodshed.

This is a film for those who appreciate Bala with all his obsession for depression and gloom (!) because he is a director who I think has substance, etches superb characters however sad or pathetic, and executes a neat film with apt music. Ilayarajai scores as usual. Maestro na maestro dhaan.

That said, there were (I am sure) many scenes missing from this film. Seems to have been cut like nobody's business. I believe it was said to have some 'cannabalism' involved as well. Ugh. But did n't get to see it. It was gory enough anyway!

Still, it would have been more interesting to see the full version and find out all that Bala had to say. (Yikes)

Oh and the comedy scenes involving Shivaji-MGR immitating side-actors was really one of the few 'enjoyable' portions of the film.

I don't however think I would want to see it again and again. The pathetic scenes remain fresh in the mind, you see...

Hello, please, thank you and good bye

Why did my parents bother teaching me manners? From good morning, good afternoon, good evening and good night to sorry, please, thank you, I had it up to my ears whilst growing up. Watch how you speak to people. Wish them. Be polite. The same story in school. Good manners apparently, were drilled into our small brains.

When it comes to present day usage of good manners, I have found that politeness comes at a price. When most courteous and pleasant, often, you are considered an ilichavai (grinning mouth -- a push over?). If you are polite, it does not necessarily mean you will get politeness back. In fact, people may even snap or be curt or take you for a ride.

So I have learned to test the waters. I will be polite at first as I have been taught to be and then when I see the waters are rippled or choppy, I do some choppy talk of my own. Speaking then becomes barking with an odd snap here and there. Very dog like behaviour. Can't say it helps matters as such. But it sure does get people's attention and they know that they need to watch their mouths with me.

However, downright losing of temper never never helps. That never accomplishes anything. But if people know that you are on the verge of losing it or are terribly capable of losing it, you can get things done.

Sad but true. Being grouchy helps in many areas. But I am an optimist. I will stay pleasant until pushed. It is after all so easy to be snappy and more tough to be sweet.

Oh, and sarcasm helps. A relief for yourself while the mannerless one is stumped ...at least temporarily!

Thanking you,

Yours truly.

Just a memory

I was around 6 or seven years old (wild guess) then, and was just getting into a car with my mother on ...some road (Har, har, some memory mine is, eh?). There was this beggar woman who was obviously standing on the platform for money. But she was a beggar woman with a small difference -- she seemed quite upbeat. Even as my mother hurriedly pulled some change out of her handbag to give her, the woman looked at me. To me then, she looked to be around 50 or so -- give or take how many ever years (!).

As a child you are naturally curious, inquisitive and don't hesitate to stare even when you know people are watching you stare. So I stared at her first and then at what was in her hand. It was a stainless steel plate and it had some amazingly comforting, home made-looking food on it. It was obvious that that day was the lady's lucky day. The food comprised paruppu saadham and sambar (rice and gravy). I stared at the food and then at her. She smiled at me, happy. She was probably seconds away from beginning her tasty-looking meal. I smiled widely back, happy too.

I don't know how that food got onto her plate, but I was happy for her. Innocently happy, because I was a just a child then, who did not know more, or better.

I am not sure why this memory stuck in my brain (am sure my being a foodie is irrelevant here for once!), but I recall this exchange of smiles clearly and even remember she was wearing a sari with a shawl like thing draped over it, perhaps because of tears here and there?:(

I guess it was a comfort that she got comfort food on her plate at least that day.

Every (slum)dog has its day.

Kuppamnaai Latshaadhipathi

'Slumdog Millionaire' -- that's what I said above in Tamil. Worth a post so here I am.

WARNING! LONG POST AHEAD!

Went for a night show with my usual 'kick' of anticipation, being a movie buff and all that. Did n't even want my usual popcorn right in the beginning. The experience began with angry tears -- mine. It's just that I stood in line to get a bottle of water and when my turn came, the twit behind the counter coolly attended another oaf instead of me, who extended his hand with cash (same as I did)...and the twit did the same with the NEXT guy too. I was outraged and asked the twit whether he knew what a queue was...and should he as the guy behind the counter not be the one to acknowledge a queue...??No answer is what I got. 'GRR' was followed by angry tears which I did NOT shed. Blinked them away.

Enough already with the rant, get on with the movie experience, Teesu. Got it.

The movie is about a boy from the slums of Mumbai -- rather, it is about 2 little boys and a little girl from the slums. The boys are brothers and the older one's name is Salim while the younger one is Jamal and the girl is Lathika (in the film). By a twist of fate (Mumbai riots), the three kids are orphaned and end up together because Jamal takes 'specially' to Lathika. They are conned into ending up in a sort of begging ring by a rogue, and face a dubious future there with a strong likelihood of some terrible atrocities and eventually flee from there just in the nick of time. However, Lathika does not make it with the boys and while Jamal is broken hearted about it, Salim's main interest is always shown as his little bro and not Lathika. Well, the rest of the story is about how Jamal can never forget or give up on Lathika and I suppose she loved him too although in a defeatist kind of way! Jamal gets himself onto a Q&A game show based on the popular 'Who wants to be a millionaire / Kaun banega Crorepati' show, again, all for love. (I used to watch the show here years before, just to soak in Amitabh Bachchan's charm:).

In this film, the show's smug, taunting host is Anil Kapoor while Irfan Khan plays the inspector who questions Jamal on his astonishing knowledge that made him answer all the questions, putting him in a position to become a millionaire overnight.

The film is good, no doubt. The characters seem pretty real as do the situations they find themselves in. I suppose British directors have got a penchant for starkness. Still, this film is not overly stark. The actors are brilliant right from the little children to the young men and women they become. And by actors, I mean to include Anil Kapoor (MAN, that guy is trim and does not seem to know the meaning of the verb 'age'!), Irfan Khan (plays an Indian cop to the hilt), the 3 protagonists, etc. But the thing is, we Indians have seen so much more from Anil Kapoor that this role is like 'jujubee' (trivial) for him/us. Naturally, he played the part well. Irfan Khan on the other hand is damn good usually, and in this, he seems to have underplayed it a bit which is brilliant I suppose, considering that the Indian cop generally speaking, is used to seeing the worst of life, and then some! Therefore, he goes from agitated to angry, to rude, to calm, to shrewd and observing, to being understanding, borders on compassionate and finally, to believing. Very nicely done.

AR Rahman. I may get booed for saying this, but we Indians already knew he is a fabulous composer / music director. The rest of the world is just catching on. To me, that's what this noise about Golden Globes and Oscars means. C'mon... how many marvellous creations of ARR's have we enjoyed? In this film sure, the songs are good, but nothing that steps out to be outstanding in the LONG list of great songs he has composed. Still, if it is the first for an Indian at the Oscars / Golden Globes, it IS great, but it is also true that India has not been appreciated enough for all that she has. Now's her time, eh? I would say that India has merely got a platform at the 'elite-global' level with Slumdog Millionaire, to show off the 'tip of the iceberg'. This of course, I mean in a positive way.

Some have criticised the film for portraying India 'slummily'. I beg to differ. Easy for us commonfolk leading cushy lives to be miffed that the poor side of our country has been 'shown up' on an international scale. But, the film shows how even people from the slums have a code they live life by, which I believe is sometimes far superior to us with the well cushioned butts -- literally and figuratively!;) ... Salim's love for his younger brother, Jamal's love for Lathika, the TV host's contempt and condescending tone (slightly overdone I thought), the police inspector lending Jamal a fairly fair ear, the really good acting by the villains, all these deserve a mention.

I like dogs but not slums, for obvious reasons. I strongly object to demeaning a person by calling him a slumdog. But I suppose, it can happen. The chilling scene where the beggar ring rogues prepare to blind a little boy and proceed with the ghastly act left me feeling deeply disturbed, horrified and terribly depressed, even if it is just a movie. I suppose we all know this happens in real life but we are so far removed from it that we are lulled into a happy and comfortable zone.

This film pokes you in the ribs and makes you feel the pain of a 'slum dog'. And then, it also tends towards fairly happy endings. So, watch it. We are going to win some never-before awards, so you have to watch it!

Cheers! Jai Ho and Jai Hind;).

Late action, late reaction...to Vaaranam Aayiram

I wanted to watch this film from MUCH before it was released over two months ago. Anyway, I saw it yesterday. I am still unclear about what Vaaranam Aayiram means (strength of a 1000 elephants?) or its real relevance to the film and its characters. I only know that an extremely corny dialogue right at the end by Simran (plays an older heroine/woman's role) had some silly reference to this phrase 'Vaaranam Aayiram'.

Suriya the actor, is one reason I wanted to watch this film. The director Gautham Menon is another. The latter has made some very good films although they did have disturbing scenes / concepts in them. Still, he can really make an actor look good and believable -- even better than good, really utilise him or her!

So, the film begins with a sickly, older Suriya. Now, his make up was much much better than Kamal's in Dasavathaaram in any of the avathaarams. (Feel bad saying ths considering I am quite a Kamal fan). Well, anyway, a fact is a fact. Simran in an older role was good until the last few scenes. Konjam sad her acting and dialogue delivery then. Why has she STILL not learned to move her lips the Thamizh way?!!

Then it moves to romance -- Gautham Menon always excels in portraying these 'moments'. Same in this film too.

The main theme however, is about father and son with emphasis on the way the son (also Suriya) looks up to the father. While this is a very nice and unique theme in Tamil cinema, the number of "Daddy-Daddy"s in the film ought to have been reduced by half at the very least. I mean, I am all for the Daddy syndrome but even I found this irritating -- then imagine other less-Daddy-obsessed folks!!

Apparently, this film has been inspired by the director and his father (now late). Hmmmm. Not sure how meaningful that is in Kollywood.

Some scenes were ridiculously long...

Suriya has given a mind blowing performance and is terribly endearing and convincing as a school boy, as a man in love and as an army officer (dashing is the only way to describe him). The father Suriya is fine but nowhere close to the son Suriya.

Sameera Reddy the second (young) heroine is not bad in the acting department for her first film. Acts Ok enough, but I feel there is something wrong with her fitting into a South Indian heroine-image. Maybe her jawline?! She is a girl whom, if you knew in person you would say "woo-hoo, HOT" but on screen...something's not right.

The second heroine Divya Spandana or something, is just about OK and sometimes irrittating although her acting was not very bad. (Am sure it is because people cannot act badly in gautham Menon's films!!) Second best. Frankly, nobody seemed to be able to match up to Suriya in this movie! Not even his older version.

Some call it soppy, others say it's like a documentary. Me, I think if you like Suriya, you are going to have to watch this and enjoy it!

Oh and the music by Harris Jeyraj is wonderful.

As a child...

As a child, I have...
1. eaten paper, so I still recognise the taste. I was just polishing off a toffee a few minutes ago when I encountered that bit of non-food stuck in one of my teeth. It was paper. Due to a burst of nostalgia, I did not spit it out.
2. eaten rubber. In fact, in UKG, my 3-4 friends and I had a competition. We tore up our erasers / rubbers into bits -- at times we had to cut them by biting them, and then we placed all bits and pieces of everybody's rubbers on the table and said 1, 2, THREE, and then grabbed as many pieces of rubber as possible and the prize for the one to have grabbed the most was...to get to eat them all by herself!
3. eaten sand. I remember on one particular day the sand eating went so overboard that my mother heard about it and banned it forever...or at least till date. Now, however, my appetite for sand is NIL;)
4. eaten gooseberries with the natural dirt on them. :) That memory calls for another post though.
5. BRACE yourself...eaten 'nose-matters'. Absolutely yuck I KNOW but c'mon WHO has not tasted some nose matter in his or her childhood? The taste is unfortunately remembered as tangy at best and ...eeegads, even I can't do this...
6. chewed on cloth. Any cloth, mostly cotton. The taste of it is rather...tasteless!!

Childhood was so eventful, was n't it?
Sigghhh.

Toilet Cleaning

I have discovered that I like to clean my toilet. Not by hand (yuck, no) of course, but with a nice long brush, some pleasant smelling liquid cleaner and water. Well, how else does one wash a loo?!

To me this is new since I have never washed a loo before. The feeling of satisfaction is great and it beats dealing with too many people any day! Just me and my loo. A one-to-one experience!

The steps I take for this...
1. I spray the liquid cleaner over all surfaces of the WC and then spray with a vengeance on certain...'areas' which look...ugly-bugly-boo. Or should I say poo?
2. I let it soak for say 5-10 minutes.
3. I take the long handled toilet brush and clean with gusto.
4. I spray water here and there for extra lubrication.
5. I flush the loo.
6. I make sure the surfaces are clean, spotless and dry.

The timing for washing a loo must be perfect. It must be done just after it has been used and well before it will be used again, in order to prolong the 'cleanness time'.

Hmmm...So this post is perhaps the most vetti of all.

Anger Management

Courses need to be offered and I need to sign up!

Hmmmm

People are crazy and times are strange,
I'm locked in tight, I'm outta range,
I used to care, but things have changed.

Yup, Bob Dylan says it all for me today, with these words.

Alarm!

I just received a forward on alarm clocks from a friend S.
Alarm clocks and I go back a long way. Since when I can remember, I have never been early to bed and early to rise. Maybe it's just because I don't want to catch that worm or what, I don't know! Still, I do love sleeping and can go on and on about how I need my eight + hours of ugly sleep...
Anyway!
So obviously, I have always needed alarm clocks to wake me up. Sometimes they have the desired effect on me and sometimes not. But I tell you, one of the best things to have happened in the alarm world is the snooze button. I simply love the option to snooze (I feel all snoozy and ooozy and woozy just thinking of this great option). I can hit that snooze button with aplomb. There's a certain thrill in supressing the alarm for just a few more minutes and getting that many more (few) minutes of shut eye -- a thrill unparalleled that early in the morning. Ok, maybe not early. After all, what's sauce for the goose may NOT be sauce for the gander. (Is this saying correct?).

Ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-TAP!-snoooooooooooooooooooooze.

I must now yak about a few of my favourite alarm clocks...this was much before the snooze button's arrival on the sleepyheads' planet: -

1. My father got quite desperate by the time I reached the ninth standard and bought me one hip looking triangular, black and white alarm clock which made the sound of a cock crowing. Apparently, he thought a farm-like environment was required to make me wake up with the sun. Unfortunately, it was rather too easy to lightly smack the top of this smooth-headed clock and go right back to sleep. The crowing did help the first few times though.

2. The next was a military / army green coloured alarm clock in the guise of a major-general-like doll. This fellow would start up a band and a drill routine to wake me up. There was even an alarmingly realistic trumpet sound in between to kick up more of a fuss. The only way to stop the alarm was to hit the top of the gun the fellow had pointed upwards. This worked slightly longer than the crowing alarm clock. Nevertheless, the novelty soon wore off.

After 1 and 2 above, my father had become increasingly resigned to having to wake me up himself, following any alarm clock's failed attempt. Only, he would put me on a guilt trip: "See, Appa (Daddy) has so much work to do during the day and am interrupting my sleep to wake you up. The least you can do is to wake up(and study)." Indeed. This was really the only ploy that worked on me and probably the only kind of guilt trip ever laid on me by my pretty-cool parents!


Reading various Enid Blyton books (red/green story books and so on) which had some mild morals-of-the-stories for sleepyheads, like a walking and talking bed that took the little girl away to some strange land for not waking up when told to ...and so on, did not really help in the long run.

Oh and then there was one alarm clock that I must talk about. It was my sister's. Again bought lovingly for her by my 'ever-positive-about-his-daughters' late father. This clock is rectangular and unapologetically yellow. Or is it orange? (So yellow, that it's hard to tell!) Anyway, this clock was a simpleton compared to the other two mentioned above. Clearly, my dad did not consider my sis a lost cause like me! Its alarm had a wonderful tune. Why I enjoyed this clock so much is because, I was then going to afternoon college whereas my sis had a full time job before which, she would try and wake up early in the morning to go for a bicycle ride. I had my own room but like all pesky younger sisters, I would pile on to her room from time to time on a lusciously padded mattress on the floor. Then when this alarm began its tune, it was sooo melodious (cos i was not the one to have to wake up) and soothing and...somehow satisfying that I snoozed after that with pleasure. Aaaah. What memories!:)

Now, I use my mobile phone alarm. So bland but delightfully fitted with the snooze option that lasts ten minutes. Ten cozy, glorious minutes.

As they say in German ...Bis Morgen! (Till the morning)
Cheers!
Note: Only the No. 3 alarm clock pic is the real thing since I still have it safe:) The No. 2 is close to what mine was. The pic for my No. 1 alarm clock is more for effect!

What's with the lack of warmth?

Just by looking at a person or even hearing his or her voice over the phone, you can tell if he or she is amiable. True, some over-the-phone grumpies may seem pleasant enough in person...but most often warm people are warm across any medium.

I of late have been observing some mighty lukewarm people and it bugs me no end. Even with a 'Hello' you can make out the warmth or lack of it in the tone ...and therefore its meaning. Actually, I think lukewarm is downright rude.

But it's not the case with lukewarm water in the bath though!

Aaaah. Lukewarm water is just perrrrfect:)

Jana Gana Mana...

Whenever I sing the national anthem, I get the goosebumps at the very least, become all choked up, or downright teary eyed (if it is pms/emotional time;)).

All right, all right, (you raised eyebrow, you...) I KNOW I am no model Indian citizen, or a commando, or an army officer, or anyone 'important' in the country who actually can boast of 'serving' his or her country. In fact, am pretty sure I'm in the 'the-country-serves-me' bracket.
Ok, OHKAY.

But still, when I stand up erect (all solemn) and belt out 'Jana Gana Mana...', I FEEL it. I really do. Patriotism I think it is.

I admit at this point (oh damn, this post is falling apart!) that I don't even know the full meaning of the anthem -- except it is some sort of awe with which we skim India's many natural assets and cheer her on in spirit. But so what? It's the thought that counts, right?

Jaya he, jaya he, jaya he...
Jaya jaya jaya jaya he.......!

Usually, by the time I come to 'jaya he', I am all 'hic-hic' or have to swallow really hard to hit the high notes. Feel the same way about 'saare jahaan se acha' and actually learned this song just last year from my Carnatic music teacher's daughter, because I was not taught it in school. GRR to my school.

Jai Hind!

Hariharan ...Live

For the first time, I got to see singer Hariharan perform live last Saturday. I have always loved his voice -- soulful, deep, soothing, pleasing, strong yet not abrasive. Simply marvellous voice. Wonderful singing skills too. Versatile -- ghazals or hip hop, no probs. Sings with so much feeling and perfection in emotions, it is ...super!

At this show, he was as usual wonderful in his singing and is an excellent stage performer (which I expected after Blogeswari's account long ago) , although he did suffer a few bouts of irritation here and there it seemed to me, mostly because of one or more of the following reasons: -
1. The audience was rather on the reticent side -- maybe quite 'kezhamfied' (with many older people) and not as enthusiastic as they could have been (but not BAD, really)
2.The orchestra needed his constant prodding and guiding for pace, sound, effect, etc.
3. A guest singer was not as quick to the beat as she should have been and needed his prompting. 4. His own chorus singers -- 2 mamas (uncles) and 2 akkas (older sisters) were not up to his 'josh'/pace sometimes.
5. The 'technical-sound people' seated amidst the audience goofed up one song big time. Hariharan actually shouted 'stop it' at the end. But it was not even heard properly because that was how loudly they goofed up.
6. A few requests were shouted out from the audience and although he complied, I felt he was somewhat ...bugged. He was gracious all right, but sommething was missing.

Why I was bugged here and there:
1. Hariharan got his sons to sing 2 songs -- one solo each I think, and they were both only 'average' singers. The older one especially, bordered on lousy singing. The younger one can pass off in the rock scene. If I had been feeling bitchy enough (!!which I was not since Hariharan's singing is flawless and mind/heart blowing!), I would have felt very grumpy about having his sons forced on us when we had come to hear only Hariharan. (free passes notwithstanding!) Oh well, perhaps he was using them to take his voice breaks...am a wee bit Grr nevertheless.
2. The two male chorus singers at one point early in the performance were seemingly having an argument right on stage until one (main) female singer Lavanya (I think that was her name)shushed them. Silly behaviour on stage that too. Mamafyd behaviour.
3.' Lavanya' was pleasant and openly enjoying Hariharan's singing skills all right, but did she HAVE to be soooooo adoring of him and smiling 99.99% of the time? In fact make that 100%! NO aching cheek muscles, eh? Plus, this overly overt admiration of one's er, BOSS (for lack of a better word) does not look very nice on stage. I mean, even I was getting carried away with his voice, but i was not gazing 'smiley-ly' at him alllll the bloody time! Please, woman, some restraint. Thankfully, Hariharan did not turn all goofy himself. He was damn near perfect in fact. Anyway, Lavanya did sing very well as did the other female singer whose name I did n't catch.
4. The guest singer -- great that she got the chance to sing with Hariharan and great that she had the guts to, but then... I am jealous!!;)
5. The crowd. Silly folks. Either come out and enjoy a performance or don't show up. If you knew anything about Hariharan, you would know that you cannot be unenthu at his show.
6. The playback track was ON and it seemed almost like karaoke singing here and there -- this PISSED me off. I do not want to watch a talented singer like Hariharan LIVE, doing karaoke.
7. I never considered myself a 'radical Tamil' but when he sang the Hindi version of 'Thamizha Thamizha' from the film Roja, I was miffed.
8. In the above song, I made out a mistake he made because of point 6 above. My friends and I have performed this song in college and I knew straight off that he had made a mistake in the beats -- in that he missed two beats! Come ON, with 4 chorus singers and a whole orchestra, why not make your own music however modest? A singer like Hariharan can carry it through, OK?
GRRR.

Anyway, all I can say is that I have new respect for Hariharan -- because he is so good on stage as well and even does some impressive dancing!! Just a few steps, but cute. I am waiting for his next live performance cos I ain't missing it -- sons or no sons, adoring Lavanya or no adoring Lavanya and Hariharan's well-concealed irritations or no. Hariharan beckons!

What a voice, what a voice!

New Year Resolution

My new year resolution is to...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
not wait until the end of the year to make resolutions. No attempt at improvement should have to wait even for a second! How profound is that, eh?

My point is, if I am going to wait to make a resolution, chances are that it won't stick, simply because I put it off for a grander moment in the hope that at least then, I may have whatever it takes to stick to the resolution. Correct?

End of years

The last day of 2008 deserves a post, me thinks. I sat down to think about what I have achieved this past year...no, actually, I am only now sitting down and thinking about it...hmmm. Ok, no major achievements! It's not like I am Vishwanath Anand or something, that I can talk about the latest feathers in my cap. ('PJ'* on feathers later below.)

Still, I must say I seem to have enjoyed myself for the most part of 2008. Lack of Vishy Anand-like achievements leads me resign myself to listing out some personal, interesting experiences of 2008: -
1. I have started writing for a newspaper supplement -- still freelance, but nevertheless...
2. I began writing restaurant reviews for a Chennai based magazine -- this happened quite by chance but since it's right up my alley, I now revel in it!
3. I have enjoyed the company of my friends (3 different groups) even more this year! One group of school pals, one of college and the third group I got to know through my gym and they are what I call my 'womanly' friends -- I became thick with them only a couple of years ago, but they are FUN.
4. I went to Singapore, where neither the zoo nor the shopping disappointed me! The cable car ride too was awesome.
5. I went to Perth, where a visit to an animal farm was cool, as was a 'seaworld' experience.
6. I 'irregularly' worked out but enjoyed it anyways! ;)
7. I made some new pals in June but no clique formed as yet!!
8. I made plans to do something 'on my own' and nearly implemented it, but did not. Only because when it came down to it, I did not believe it was going to work out. Am still pretty sure I was right. (oray the opinionated!)
9. I did No.8 TWICE!
10. I came to the realisation that I cannot diet. (Ha, haaaa.Better late than never). I am not into depriving myself!
11. I also came to the realisation that I had better work out and at least consider my food / plate before I eat it. (Vaat ya dollop of wisdom, eh?)
12. I simply 'mindblowingly' enjoyed 2 reunions with friends -- one for an evening out with two school friends to celebrate 30 years of knowing each other (went pub hopping) and the other with five college friends for a 3 day getaway to Pondicherry to celebrate 16 years of being friends.
13. I have begun to recognise certain signs of maturity and immaturity in me...and others too. I don't think I had the power to recognise such things before!! (My 'wold yage' is the reason!)
14. I cried and laughed almost as well as Sivaji Ganesan when I was watching the film 'Abhiyum Naanum' last weekend. I cried at the father-daughter senti stuff and laughed at the STUPIDITY of the film in many other places. Came out of the movie hall very much like I had downed a few pegs, helped by a certain college pal who has an impeccable timing in and an incredible sense of...humour. (B is her name)
15. I found out that with close friends, bickering is normal and healthy!! Annoying too!
16. A favourite cousin got married.
17. I found out that some things just don't change. (Nice things:)
18. Restaurant reviews did not make me gain weight -- in fact they reduced cravings and binges, he he, since I get my fill at the restaurants ...and variety too, what with all the la di da sampling!
19. Somebody somewhat famous who was seeing me after 18 years recognised me!! Either his memory is very good or I still look 'eng'. I choose the second likelihood, thank you!
20. I have been photographed a LOT this year and taken quite a few too!
21. Many people have been highly encouraging about my writing.
22. I regained a couple of ex-friends.
23. My sister has almost become a friend-like person!! (ha ha yakkao...akka, akka, yelakka)
24. I have watched more movies in the theatre and at home on dvd in 2008 than in 2007. (yenna oru achievement!)
25. I met Priyanka Chopra (this one is for the guys)
26. I met and interviewed Khushboo, Anu Hasan and Radhika (certainly not achievements, I know, but...)
27. I spoke with Chiyaan Vikram on the phone a few times (ok, obviously I am a fan, but c'mon, it's an achievement cos this guy is cool. Anyway, which celebrity bothers calling back interviewers?)
28. I have learned to put my foot down with some people without even consulting some best buddies on how to!! Especially with pseudo celebrities.
29. I have started bragging about how 'I am a trained pilot but without a valid, current license' ! (cheap thrills;)) 12 years old this news is, but...feather in my cap indeed!
30. I have started wearing bigger earrings than ever before and dressing up like never before!

Ok, enough already! (stupid American phrase).
Oho. It looks like friends have played a huge role this past year. I am not complaining...

Regarding the PJ which means Poor Joke, there was a pompous boy who went away from home to make some money after ruffling his dad's feathers. Every week, he would write home to his father bragging about some thing he had achieved that week and finishing off with "...this is another feather in my cap". This went on for a few months.

Then one day, he wrote home to say he had lost this, that...and everything and 'Daddy, could you please send me some money so I can return home?'.
His Dad replied : "Use all those feathers and fly back!".

Ha ha. Really not so funny in today's world of 'aaapus' and 'aruvaals', but still...

The above points are a general fairly vetti personal reminiscing to salute 2008.

Happy New Year to my handful of readers and may your dreams come true at least this year! Here's wishing you a happy and healthy and PROSPEROUS 2009 minus the paunch that goes with 'prosperous'!

Cheers!

Happy New Year!

'Jobless' thoughts must intrude during the end of the year's supposed usual introspection... (uhhhuh! Ahem!)

We shout "Happy New Year!" to each other every year, when the clock strikes 00:00 on 31st December. That thought got me thinking (read: vettiying). So, this seems to mean that a new year is born at that time. This then means that it is the year's birthday, right? Then why don't we say 'Happy Birthday, New Year'?

Oh dear! what a vetti post this is. I shall stop now. Even I cannot bear this!:)

Lizard Poo

I made a very idle observation today, just now, on Christmas eve, as I lifted a jug of water up to my mouth. My head naturally tilted back and my eyes fell on the ceiling as I began a glug-glug.

Then I noticed it -- lizard poo (lizard shit) or palli-pee (Tamil) in all its black glory with an 'ivory tip' (sick!!)...on the ceiling!

Certainly, an 'ugh' topic. But managed to spare it a thought(!). It was on the ceiling, which means it was sticking to it -- OR beating gravity. Naaah. It was sticking to the ceiling apparently perhaps because there is some sticky quality about it. I mean, people talk about shit hitting the fan but clearly, shit cannot stay on the ceiling.

Therefore, the lizard can do something we cannot -- shit on the ceiling and make it stick there!

I actually wanted to incorporate an image of a lizard and perhaps its poo here on this post, but just looking at a lizard's picture gives me the heebeejeebies. Ugjdkfsdfjjfh!

Procrastination

This is a vice. Procrastination is.

I am guilty without having the need to be charged, of procrastination.

Clean the room -- another day
Meet a deadline -- tomorrow (After all, tomorrow's another day)
Clean the cupboard -- tomorrow
Phone to catch up with (some) relative -- tomorrow (not in the mood right now)
Start on a diet -- tomorrow (IF tomorrow comes)
Stop losing temper -- soon (!Yeah right)
...and so on

Why do I do it? Hmmm... lousy habit I guess, garnished with laziness and served with a blob of LACK OF DISCIPLINE on top. That would be my dish of procrastination. No need for recipe cos nobody ought to try it.

I believe it runs in the family, on top of everything. But...does it run in many or most families? I hope so because misery does love company.

Am debating on how to handle it...oh well, I won't think about it right now. Will introspect ...TOMORROW!

Accessorize!

Forget fashion, trends, style, blah blah. I think the best thing to have happened in recent times is the accessories boom. 'Fashion jewellery', as it is fashionably called and 'fancy jewellery', as it is locally called. By the way, I love this word: fancy. To be honest, I have taken a fancy to fancy.;)

har har.

Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la la la la la.


So, coming back to it, I love shopping for fashion jewellery. I think it is completely worth the money since it is quite reasonable and suits most occasions. I am not at all hung up on gold, silver, platinum, diamonds and so on. (Mostly because there is a limit to affording these heavy metals!) With fashion jewellery, you don't have to worry about fluctuating gold prices, the weight, the size, losing it, breaking it or be organised about stashing it in a locker after use.

And then there is the variety in the colours to consider...

Oh yeah, fancy jewellery is definitely this girl's best friend;)

P.S.

It is sometimes referred to as chappu chavaru (little bits of rubbish -- fondly speaking) and the action of shopping for these is sometimes called pee porukkal (no kind translation available with me!).

December

December in Chennai is generally very busy. It sometimes feel like the whole year inches along (although time flies as usual) and then suddenly, come December and the year seems to be hurtling along at full speed towards the next year. Can't hang on to anything. It's like quick, quick, quick and another year is all over!

Or it just me?

Also, December is perhaps the coolest month (or least warm!) in Chennai and so it seems short and sweet perhaps. Whatever the reason, December is fifth gear -- fast lane! Music season, NRI visits (ahem) - friends, relatives and so on. Socialising, eating out, Christmas hols for the kids...wow.

I love December be it at home or anywhere else in the world! A very happening month!

Cheers!

P.R.O.s

Public Relations...
What must it be like to have to smile all the time? To be polite always and observe all ps and qs allll the time?

I am all for smiles -- folks who smile 'with their eyes' and whole face (!) really appeal to me. But I cannot begin to imagine what it must be like for people in the PR line...oh not so much the HOT SHOT areas of PR. I am not referring to the creme-de-la-creme PROs. Those don't have it quite so tough. They don't have to be polite when they feel like throwing things. I am talking about the PROs of 'ordinary' companies. I have met a few and just watching them putting on a bright and cheery front sometimes gets to me.

How do I know that it is a front? Well, I sometimes like to watch people as they talk to me and make mental notes about some things;)

I think this post was prompted by a recent PRO I met whose smile did not reach her eyes and her cheery tone seemed an effort for her. Felt a bit bad. For her.

Still, I'm sure most PROs suit their roles -- outgoing, thoughtful, hard working with a sharp memory. Speaking of hard working, as far as i can tell, being in PR is really HARD work! Keeping odd hours, meeting weird people, remembering seemingly unimportant stuff, talkign when you don't feel like and of cos, smiling when you feel like baring your teeth and growling!

Imagine having to be NICE all the time. Me, I like my grumpy, cantankerous, moody or irritable (do they all mean the same?!) moments too much. They are must haves -- only now and then of course! I need 'me' time. Being in PR means you have to be on your guard a LOT and on your best behaviour. With all that smiling, I am sure amajor pain for PROs is aching cheek muscles!

So, I guess PR is not an option for me.;)

On the phone

The telephone is super. Chatting with people over it is the best. I especially, was not one for particularly short phone chats. I have talked hours on the phone ...to the same person(who obviously, was as into the phone as I was) . The longest would be a chat with a friend that lasted overnight -- maybe 6-7 hours, and then there were those other times when I have chatted with some other friends regularly, for three hours -- give or take an hour...and so on.

45 minutes was nothing.

But today, I had a 25 minute phone chat with a friend and I was tired at the end of it. I chose to end the chat and hang up. I cannot today believe my earlier phone conversations lasted hours. Of course, I did not have so many things on my hands those days as I do now... Those days were basically footloose and fancy free. Such a condition is given to change! He he. Just 11 years ago!

Phone chats were and still are (despite tiredness and all!) so FULFILLING and de-lonely-fying (!). Not to mention convenient...

Simple Pleasures

Life is full of simple pleasures -- as it should be! Over the last few days, I have been observing the simple, seemingly real pleasures in life that have come my way...

1. Anticipating a fun evening out with my gal pals as I don't like to call them! Just friends. Just talking. Just having a good time. And then of course, actually experiencing the evening.
2. Waking up late on a Sunday morning. It never fails to please me, this.
3. Waking up to a wonderful cup of coffee, perfectly made (irrespective of who makes it)
4. Enjoying a slow breakfast of dosas and sambar -- now why does that particular combo appeal so? Comfort food, I guess.
5. Watching some really funny clips and/or melodious songs from films on TV.

There are many many more simple pleasures, but these here have been recently enjoyed and so this post.

Cheers to the next week ahead.

Be Punctual! Or at least, TRY.

I recently had to meet somebody for an interview about...this and that. First of all, this person postponed the meeting by an hour -- we were supposed to meet at 2 but at 1.30 I get the message that it would have to be an hour later. First bit of irritation.

Once I got to the meeting point, this person kept me waiting one hour and during that hour, I had to call the person twice or thrice to figure out what was happening. Finally, I just said "If you are not here in ten minutes, I am leaving." I meant it. Needless to say, this worked. Adi odhai udhavuraamaadhiri annan thambi udhava maataanga.

This person had the cheek to tell me soon after late arrival, that celebrities always kept people waiting and that people 'here' anyway don't have a sense of time. I coldly informed THE PERSON that I have had no such problems with celebrities, OR with any others because everybody's time is precious and most people know it.

Well, despite all this, it's a different matter that the interview went on smoothly after all.

The thing is, this is something that has ALWAYS bothered me -- when people are not conscious of other people's time, and not even at least TRYING to be punctual, etc. Sometimes, when even the intention is missing, it's VERY annoying.

What if?

What if I was having dinner at the Golden Dragon at the Taj Mahal hotel in Mumbai that fateful evening? (very likely mind you, given how much I love that cuisine and the restaurant too).

What if it was I who got the shock of my life in the middle of a forkful of noodles on hearing gunshots or on suddenly seeing a terrorist with a machine gun barging in? Would I react fast? Would I chuck the fork, plate and everything else and dive for cover? Would I react fast enough to escape bullets and/or notice? Would I keep my cool? Would I even remember to take my loved ones (dining with me) with me under the table assuming I was fast and quick-thinking enough to spearhead any 'diving' operation?

Or would I gape and die with a fork in my hand and some uneaten food in my mouth? (NOT a pretty sight.Oh, am not trying to make funny of the situation. These are real thoughts.)

I thought these terrifying thoughts (even the THOUGHTS are creepy) and decided to come up with a plan. I would stay ever watchful through every single meal at every single five star hotel I visit and at the first sign of terror, I will yell 'get down' and yank my neighbours down with me. God forbid there will be no child in the vicinity. Then once under cover of hopefully the table, I will feverishly think up some plan to get out of the situation and perhaps valiantly try to help others...

Enough. I doubt that any amount of planning will ever help in certain situations. For example, we all know that certain diseases can strike us any time. Cancer springs to mind. So, will understanding the effects of the disease and treatment for it and the possible successes and failures of such treatments, (blah blah) EVER prepare me for that moment If I were to get the crushing news" "You have cancer."? I doubt it. Nothing can prepare you to condition your reaction to certain things...

A terror attack especially, is probably just that. One that causes extreme terror. Bombs, grenades, bullets, whatever. Who the hell can prepare for it?

It amazes me that people out there want to kill others with such horrific fury. But then I try chiding myself: "Hello, you are privileged. You have not experienced any extreme misery (grief of losing a loved one aside) like poverty or hunger or extreme physical / mental/emotional abuse.So you cannot even begin to judge the less fortunate who have gone astray".

True. But if a privileged soul like me does not question evil then who will? Surely not the warped-minded terrorists.

I guess I digressed again. But 2 whole days + (and still going on) of watching the relays on the informative and sometimes irresponsible TV channels has affected me quite a bit it seems.

Coming back to 'what if', I guess I don't know what I would do and definitely, I don't REALLY WANT to know, since the truth is I would hate to be in such a situation.

Still, the thoughts linger...What IF?

Moral Science

Moral Science was actually a subject to study in the convent school I attended for fourteen years and I think they even tested us on this rather vague subject.

I say vague because I really don't remember what exactly we studied in those classes. But I do I remember quite looking forward to it mostly because it was fairly light and there was also a great deal of interaction.

The Moral Science period coincided with the Catechism (spelling?!) period. Perhaps Moral Science as a subject was introduced in the convent school to keep the non-Catholics busy in pursuit of goodness? Whatever. It was a good idea. It's always nice to reinstate certain values repeatedly, especially at impressionable ages...and even when older. (Today, it would seem however, that certain OLD people desperately need moral science classes.)

Kindness, goodness, sincerity, honesty, sense of duty and so on. There has never been a greater need for moral science classes than today, if you ask me. Do schools have it these days? I have no clue. Will find out ...

Apparently many people today do not seem to have even heard the word moral. And these days, even when used, it's like 'moral' is a bad word. Ugh types. 'Non-classy and a drag', to quote the unquotable.

Well, I am no holier than thou. I have enough badness in me to justify those two horns growing out of my head. Still, I have not sprouted that proverbial tail, so that is a good sign!!Certainly, my moral science classes have helped me!

The mere fact that I enjoyed them is saying something, right?

Cynically Me

Ok, so there is much talk about politicians resigning, others taking over, etc. Some sort of upheaval is happening...NOW. But how long until the rest of the world (other than those injured and the family of the dead) forgets about the enormity of the situation? Rather, until the news-hungry news channels get tired out and move on to juicier stuff that life is sure to throw up?

So...
Will this incident really make a difference?

Will the audacity of those crazies with guns get the real attention it deserves?

Are our leaders going to actually pull up their socks and do something?

Or will this drama die a natural death -- the kind of death those 200+ poor folks caught in the gun fire were not allowed to experience?

There have been some chilling emails that talk of certain gangsters, Bollywood connections, etc. The old saying: "Panatha paatha ponam kooda vaaya polakkum" (When shown money, even a corpse will get up to gape) is true then finally, is n't it? As long is you can make money, who cares about anything else?

It begins with: First of all, you have a family to feed (sounds like a good cause to me), and then, you have fancy clothes to buy (I see), and then fancy cars (I SEE), and then fancy underwear (I don't want to see)...OKAY! So the money is never going to be enough. Therefore, the ethics once compromised are never going to come back to you.

This is how the common man and the gangster get involved. Or one converts to the other. Now, talks say that a politician is probably both a common man AND a gangster. So, if these semi gangsters are running India, what else do you expect?

Moreover, in that case, our troubles will begin at the top and everybody from up there needs to be stripped to clean his or her act...

I think it would be enough if these so-called representatives of us commonfolk at least clean their current slates and start afresh with an overdose of 'Moral Science'.

Least they can do considering how well their %^&* are protected!

Enough! cont'd

The other important common point is that they are both cowards. Filthy cowards!

Enough!

When is it going to be enough? Why should we take this? Am talking about Mumbai of course. Where is it all going wrong?

Right from the top. That's where.

Who wants politicians and leaders who don't have an effective security system in place for a huge wonderful country with so many people and a vast vulnerable coastline? Honestly, I think politicians can safely STOP being guarded. Even the terrorists don't want them and they do not seem to be trying to assasinate anyone 'important'.

We (common people) also don't think they are important anymore. They are making a nuisance of themselves. Actually, me thinks both terrorists and our politicians have many points in common: -

1. People are wary of them

2. They are selfish and self centred

3. They lack compassion (oh c'mon!)

4. They are seem to be delusional and this is proving dangerous to society

5. They indulge in anti social activities (oh yes, corruption and misuse of power for personal advantage is definitely anti social, apart from murdering folks of course!)

6. Nobody cares if they die (quite quiiite true)

7. By and large, they do not serve any people (and if they think they do, see point 4.)

8.They have hidden agendas

9. They demand attention

10. In the name of one thing, they justify doing EXTEME wrongs.

Wow. SO much in common. They should meet. And leave us 'common folks' out of it.

Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata

Even if you don't like the piano or Richard Clayderman, do listen to this piece. Else, you can just look it up on google or youtube. Soul stirring composition. But don't listen to it if you are in the mood for 'Appadi Podu' Dappaan Koothu numbers or Western pop/hip hop/heavy metal. That would be an insult to this great composer. The best mood for it would be unhurried or with at leat a willingness to close your eyes for two minutes.

http://in.youtube.com/watch?v=ChmPkwWMV0w&feature=related

Me, I can drop whatever I am doing to listen to this gorgeous piece.

Dostana

Ok, so many people know that this Bollywood film is about two guys pretending to be gay in order to share a beautiful apartment in Miami with a beautiful gal. John Abraham and Abhishek Bachchan with Priyanka Chopra. Sounds like a winning love triangle. Then in comes the droll faced Bobby Deol (seriously, huccome he is the still-hot Dharmendra's son?) -- supposedly straight and suave.

Most of the film makes fun of gays and their supposed body language and behaviours. I can't say I care too much really, about making so much fun of the gay community. But it has to be said that the very hot and happening John Abraham and truly attractive Abhishek Bachchan have 'gaily' done a good job of it. They are funny and do look good together! Abhishek has been clever by not taking off his shirt as John Abraham in this film was wont to doing. Why compete 'out of area'?;) There are many slapstick moments and in true Bollywood style, many unbelievable moments too. If you really have time to spare and don't mind watching a time pass movie that is essentially a spoof on homosexual men, you can watch this.

There are some quite-funny moments in the film though what irritated and disturbed me was the behaviour of the crowd watching the film at Sathyam cinemas. They laughed at so many unfunny things and it was shocking to note the number of young guys (teenagers) who were watching this film and laughing raucously. Something about it really bothered me. There were moments during the film when, as I was watching it in all seriousness, there would be laughter erupting further along the hall and I was like 'What THE?"

Personally, I felt the guys and Priyanka did a good job with the acting while Bobby Dobby Deol disappointed big time. There were simply too many silly moments in the film and happy as usual was I that I had 2 cartons of popcorn -- one salted and one caramel, to munch through this no-brainer.

Having gone ten minutes late (that is what you get for waiting for 'thozhis'), I missed the 'item number' with Shilpa Shetty. All things considered, I have no issues about that.

BUT, it was sweet to see real, platonic, 'buddy-buddy' man-woman friendship-love in Dostana. That was perhaps the best part.

Cooking

I have now decided that cooking may not be for me. I lack the interest to get into the kitchen except of course to eat. However, it is true that I make some dishes that turn out well or even better than most people's (Ahem -- a leak in modesty!).

The 'some dishes' I refer too are (don't hold your breath): -
1. Aloo kari (potatoes as a dry, vegetable side dish)
2. Yam -- masala fried yam
3. Curd rice (!! -- It's a dish, ok?)
4. Stir fried vegetables in gravy -- Chinese style(although have not made this is 2 years)
5. Vendakka Poriyal (lady's finger dry veg side dish)
6. Colocasia (Arbi-yam) as a dry veg side dish
7. Paneer Pulao
8. Raitha with onions, tomatoes, green chillies and cucumber.
9. Rasam
10. Onion, tomato, garlics in a masala.(!)
11. Aloo mutter gravy
12. Kadai Paneer -- my version.

This pitiable list has my best, giving evidence of my poor achievements in the field of cooking over the last 12 years. The good thing when it comes to cooking is that I have more knowledge than I use! But, not in the mood means not in the mood. I cannot bring myself to cook well unless my heart and soul is in it. Like for instance, if I am cooking for friends I KNOW are looking forward to my cooking. Else, perhaps, if I am hungry, the food will turn out fine. Otherwise, I actually want to abandon my efforts midway.

But I cannot bear average tasting food. So, when I am not in the mood, I just don't cook. Period. Will adopt this tactic as far as possible. Once impossible, I will...post again hopefully to report that I am an enthusiastic cook.

Quirks and me

I have been tagged by Umm Oviya (www.quiteqatar.blogspot.com) to reveal five of my quirks...I guess she thought this would be easy for me, which is saying sommething that I am not going to delve into!

Without further ado, here we go on then, to them 'quirkies': -

1. I have to keep my cell phone near me overnight, but afraid of the radiation to the brain cells or whatever(!), I keep it under a pillow near my head so that I can hear it ring & pick it up AND, this way, the pillow I thinnnk, may block the harmful effects and prevent them from reaching my brain. Yes, am serious.
2. I have to check and recheck (perhaps 2-3...4 times MAX!) whether all taps and doors within my vicinity are off/locked respectively before I go out, or, go to bed. Alright alright, it applies to car doors too when am out, though I only 'recheck' it once.
3. Whenever I wake up in the night or before I fall asleep, I have to closely observe people sleeping in my vicinity to ensure that they are breathing 'smoothly'. Oh yes, if I walk into any room with sleeping beings, I have to check if they are breathing normally too!
4. I have to ensure that switches are on or off properly as in firmly ON or firmly OFF because I believe without basis, that any aberrations to this may cause a short circuit which can burn the place down!
5. When I drink from a bottle (like whilst on the road or out), I have to take 4 -- yes, four mouthfuls exactly, each time. It has to be four. Cannot be one. Mayyybe two. This is I understand(!), due to my partiality towards even numbers. Cos you know, don't want to go with the ODD numbers...;)

Geeez. Feel like I have been stripped of some clothing and need to cover up.

Basket case indeed.

Fine dining

Why is it such a 'feel good' experience to enjoy a sumptuous Italian meal accompanied by some red wine? Are Italians really as romantic as widely believed?Is that what makes Italian food so...smooth and 'flavoury'?

Sigh. Burrrrp.;)

Excuse Me!

The Bike Folks

Hey people, if you are transporting kids from one place to another by motorbike, please check if the kid behind you with his or her arms around your midriff is asleep or awake. I don't know/care how you will accomplish this, but since kids are more likely to get into DEEP sleep quickly, it is imperative that you know what the child behind you is doing. I cannot bear to think of the possible consequences...

I saw a girl of around 12 hanging on to her dad on the bike whilst riding on the pillion. She was either quite asleep or very sleepy indeed and the man was clueless, zooming through the traffic.

No helmets for anyone of course.

Certainly, there is a God out there blessing many.

Chennai Roads

What prompted my previous post is actually this one...which I did n't write first.

The roads in Chennai as we know, are far from perfection. A couple of days ago, whilst driving, I thought to myself that I should crib about the state of Chennai's roads in my blog -- the potholes, the pits, the sudden speedbreakers, the general unevenness, the spectacular patchwork and more.

Then, yesterday as I was driving on Velachery Road, I noticed that some road 'pit-bumps' were patched up and the road on both sides looked kind of decent. Done overnight, probably. I was impressed and heartened.

Today, I realise that it was done overnight all because Kalaignar (Chief Minister of Tamilnadu) would be driving on Velachery Road today for ...whatever.

Angry is what I got...and that's when I imagined a scenario that may be prevailing today, my imagination helped quite a bit by films like Indian and Anniyan, which I really loved.

That made me think that those in charge of this nation -- be it in bits and pieces or the whole country, need to come CLEAN. Power means serve the nation or some people. Otherwise, do 'your people' a favour and ...'make like a tree and leave'! I wanted to actually say 'and...get lost', but then I always wanted to use the above words;)

Anti-corruption

I want to start an anti-corruption campaign for India. Ok, ok, lofty maybe.

Ok, so for Tamilnadu then.

Very serious. There are plenty of causes to adopt I know, but this one to my limited knowledge may well be the starting point to addressing every woe.

What a culture, what traditions, what an intelligent people...BUT...

What corruption.

Without it won't there be the progress we deserve?

Any ideas? Oh, go on then...:)

Obama

Obama,mamamamamamamamamamamamamaiya!

Not that I am obsessed with the US, but I now feel that there is sommmme hope for that country after all!

Let's see.

Fashion

I am no expert on fashion. In fact, am so far from it that I am closer to the times of ...the garden of Eden! Ahem. Leetle beet exaggeration.

Anyway, since I know not so much about fashion (except a bit about the glamour dolls that are models and how they have to be ultra thin by not eating enough, gay designers, party scenes, etc.), I went for the film 'fashion' with a bunch of ladies whose common interests are aerobics and watching movies. A Hindi film and a Madhur Bhandarkar film, it stars Priyanka Chopra, Kangana Ranaut and some fairly cute / nice guys whose names I am not even going to pretend I know

The movie takes its time. Maybe the whole tone of the film is in keeping with the subject -- fashion, except that it is not so much about fashion as about models, but I'm sure the title FASHION sounds more glamourous than the word MODELS (Hmmm....says something, huh?). It's not boring if you have enough time to kill and are not the 'fidgety' types. The girls really acted well.

There are some puns on the fashion scene too like some 'Muahs' (kisses in the air) as is probably true of the Mumbai fashion scene. Drugs, 'mathlabi' relationships, real friendships, which by the way, are portrayed heartwarmingly...perhaps a little too heart warming. I seriously wonder if these kinds of friendships are true today especially in this industry. I am a great fan of the relationship that is friendship and so, I did believe it.

'Fashion' is about a girl (Priyanka Chopra), who goes to Mumbai to become a supermodel and has the looks, so carries it off and lands herself some plum roles with much of her charm being her innocence and the stars in her eyes. This charm bit is MY understanding! Once she reaches the top, she falls prey to the very things everybody is supposedly afraid of getting into. How she picks herself up is cool to watch. Kangana Ranaut plays another supermodel who too goes completely beserk at the top, but founders.

Their paths become entwined at some point and the story is actually very simple, but the performances all around are good, really.

Still, is it worth watching? Well, only if you are not looking for action -- and by action, I mean fights, songs, major romances etc.

I liked it.

Oh and the gay guys as portrayed in this film are really adorable. What a waste, I say! Actually almost all the male characters in 'Fashion' come across as wonderful people.

WHAT a wonderful world that would be!!;)

Aegan (Tamil film)

I don't think this film even deserves a review leave alone a detailed one.

What is the word for the opposite of substance?
That word would describe this film.

Of course if you like Ajit (the hero) you can manage to enjoy the film and even find him cute. For me, not only has he grown (nice little paunch and all), he has grown on me. I am not an Ajit fan though I do like to keep tabs on him!!

Liked him in this and it was quite interesting to see him attempt comedy of sorts. But then I had DECIDED to sit through the film even before I booked the tickets knowing well enough that it was not really worth watching.

Otherwise, I guess the director (Raju Sundaram I think) or whoever else in charge forgot that we moviegoers have brains. (Or, perhaps HE does not have any?) And the heroine Nayantara wears a bikini top for a blouse and she is a COLLEGE PROFESSOR??? Teaching the students whilst wearing that skimpy piece of underwear masquerading as a blouse? A Sigmund Freud moment, I think. They (director)could have allowed her to wear normal blouses to college and reserved the bikini ones for the dream sequences. (Hrrrumph)

Forgettable music. Think Yuvan Shankar Raja.

Most irritating of late is (especially in the film Seval which I noticed from a clip on TV) bad dubbing. The heroine especially is not Tamil, does not know Tamil and does not even lip synch properly. ARGH. drives me crazy. Slipshod for Rs. 120/-!

Coming back to Aegan, this film was more like a bad Hindi film than a bad Tamil one! By that I mean the silly comedy, ridiculous logic, etc. Besides, I seriously think that the days of the larger-than-life hero are numbered.

Thank God the popcorn was outstanding!