Tribute to Michael Jackson concert

Sunitha Sarathy the singer, is an old friend of mine. We go way back. KG days in school. As we grew older, in our teens, we would sing together and won many competitions mostly because she sang wonderfully whilst not overpowering the rest and our band had instrumentalists, which was quite rare for girls' schools to have. Her solos even then, clinched the prize for us am sure. Later, she pursued singing and has a truly gifted voice -- sings very very well. Am not convinced that she has got all the accolades her singing deserves, but that's another matter.

When I heard that she was singing in a tribute to MJ concert, I was quite kicked. As it is, i consider myself a major MJ 'appreciator' and now this. So, I paid a thousand bucks to attend this concert, with the proceeds going towards a cause. I knew there were others as well: Shankar Mahadevan, Benny Dayal, Blaaze, and so many others, but the main attractions for me were Sunitha, Shankar and Blaaze.

As we walked in to take our places on Wesley Grounds, my friend remarked: "You know, MJ has not yet been buried so if these guys don't sing well, he will get up and come and slap their faces!". Hmmm. Something to think about.;)

At the concert, I found out just how tough it was to have even dared to do a tribute to a performer like MJ. Clearly we are grossly challenged in the dancing department, but it was a shock that we were challenged in the singing department too. Honestly, not because she is my old friend or anything, but Sunitha Sarathy saved the day! She can sing and her passion for MJ was evident in her body language too. Other saviours were Blaaze, Timmy and Naresh Iyer. Anu was not bad either.

The rest of the female singers other than Anu were like some hotel/nightclub singers. RJ Suchi as Radio jockey and playback singer Suchitra is better known as, sang Beat It and it was ...nothing to get excited about. She should have just sung it in her bathroom and been done with it. Oh and the actress Andrea who sang did not do wonders, but no blunders either. There was just not enough MJ in her singing, that's all.

Other singers were 'pitchy' too. Benny Dayal was soooo insipid in his rendering of MJ songs, it was an outrage. Why sing when your heart is not in it? Especially when it is NOT a free show? Nee maduraikkey poidu pa.

The others like Kavitha, Suvi, Roshni, etc. whilst not particularly pitchy, gave very hotel-like and nightclubby performances. Ok for an evening out with nothing to do but drinks and eats. Not Ok for a tribute concert, dearies.

Naresh Iyer was good. Did justice to the songs he sang and is a sincere singer. Sincere to the music. We need that. Haricharan also seemed sincere but sadly, a bit pitchy. Was most enthu and anyday, i can forgive an enthu singer who makes a few mistakes when compared with a know-it-all who ...just does not cut it.

Shankar Mahadevan: The great attraction and wonderful singer. Came on stage, raised expectations to the sky and sang 'aaaaaaaaaa' for a MJ number (did not recognise it but assume MJ number) Indian ishtyle, which was nice but not nice enough. Tribute to MJ, remember? And then, he introduced his son to the audience and got HIM to sing the song. Ummm, hallo? Pulikku pirandhadhu poonai aagumaa and so on is so NOT impressive when you try to shove the poonai down our throats. You, Shankar, made a mark on your merit. Allow your son to appreciate that. Don't hoist him onto your golden platform, cos we do not appreciate it. Let him sing his way up and not ride uppu mootai on your back. Capiche?On top of that, there was a nephew of his also around. Puh-lease.

Blaaze I quite enjoyed. He is cool and the chorus of his own composition as a tribute that went "one: I like Michael, two: you like michael, three: WE like michael" was slightly childish but at least something refreshing. Plus the rap style and 'yo'yo' business was quite perfect.

Then there was a powerful performer called Timmy who was very good. Not GREAT for MJ style, but otherwise great. Thank you, sire for being there. One of the saviours of the tribute.

A young girl sang a childhood number of Michael's and she too fitted the bill. Forget her name.

Blink and you'll miss him was Karthik. Frankly, the nightclubby singers quite put me to sleep that I had to rouse myself for the better numbers with difficulty. Why then did I stay for the entire show? Oh, because it was tribute to MJ and not about these various singers with only 4 out of a dozen worth a 'watch and listen' that night.

At the end, predictably, we had 'Heal the World' and 'We are the World'. Both were fine because we, the audience, sang along.;)

The music was produced by Pravin Mani and whilst it was a good effort, it was not good enough. The dancers should have practiced better and if a singer was not cutting it, he or she should have been cut out. Please, people! When are you going to give credit ONLY where it is due? Why does everything have to be diluted by pleasing this bozo and that? There was one dancer who stood out with a cool moonwalk to his credit. Very smooth. MJ would have been proud. Another good thing was they had a screen as the backdrop that had many an MJ still. That was cool and a great respite from much of the singing!

At the end, I have to say that MJ is inimitable and thankfully, we have the many videos and music recordings to listen to that will finally be the real tribute this golden performer deserves.

Immortal music and performances.

Now, you other so-called MJ fans-cum-pseudo singers out there, just BEAT IT!

The Film: Kandaswamy...hmph. REALLY.

After the review at www.blogeswari.blogspot.com, a wonderful read, you would think I would have nothing to say on this film. But I have to vent. Had I not been warned about the film, I would have been dumbstruck to see one of my most favourite actors -- Vikram, acting in this film with its sheer lack of substance or whatever it takes for a film to be at least 60% watchable. But I had been warned and still crept into the theatre at 9 am on a Sunday (great feat for Teesu. Only other time that saw such an effort was for a Harry Potter film), armed with a chilli cheese toast for breakfast!! Free tickets they were -- please note.

And so it began.

My immediate reaction to Vikram's get up as a rooster was (I hope it was a rooster!) ...why? It just struck me as a weird bird to choose for a superhero getup. Or is there something I am missing? Anyway, after a point Vikram's prancing and rooster-like postures and behaviour were indeed good enough even for the most critical eye.

Then came his super-CBI officer getup. I just wanted to launch myself out of my seat to wipe that smug smile off his face! Did n't know one had to have a smug mug to come across as a sharp guy. I mean even Kamal Hasan had smug looks only whilst romancing his heroines and that, in a man's Kollywood world (HMPH) is normal. C'mon Chiyaan Vikram, greater things are expected from you.

And then there was this woman-getup of Vikram's where he is to entice some jokers and then whack the daylights out of them. So, when I saw Vikram in a white jill jill saree trying to act all coy and seductive, I was shocked. Taken aback. And not in a good way. Vikram on screen is a man -- all man. A man's man. A woman's man. You get the picture. His innate manliness is a great part of his charm. Dressed as a woman, he looks frightening. True, his body language was superb as were his expressions and moves. But his body and face are so very SQUARELY in the male zone that you do shake your head and say 'tsk tsk, NOTHING like Kamal' who even in Avvai Shanmughi as a woman in her late fifties, could pass off for ultra feminine and bashful-o-bashful. Kamal has the advantage of a certain softness in his big expressive eyes. Yes, the eyes might have done poor Vikram in as well as his overly developed upper body -- sideways that is. Big biceps and enviable shoulders et al.

For this absolute STAR from films like Sethu, Dhool, Pithamagan and Anniyan to have acted in this mostly rubbish film is like a slap in the face. Please! Choose a better basket for your eggs next time. (heh heh, no pun intended. After all roosters don't lay eggs...I know that!)

Shriya. Oh dear. Shame shame, puppy shame! Now, now, NO cattiness here at all -- am highly OK to say Simran was sexy or Jyothika was cute or even Trisha is appealing, but Shriya's face just reminds me of MN Rajam's. No insult to the latter though. Villi-ish face and just because of her body, she gets these meaty roles? Kollywood needs to to grow up.

Shriya seriously needs to try wearing clothes and see if they suit her. I mean what else does she have going for her? Certainly not acting and CERTAINLY not dialogue delivery even in mere lip sync. DISGUSTING.

The film, such as it was, was disjointed. I actually felt sleepy somewhere in between which is truly a first for me. Why do the scenes shot in Mexico have to be yellowish? Why did the songs have to be so blah? (save one or two?) Why does Vikram have to overdo expressions like macho-pride-smugo so? Very disappointing. I can only think that this is a phase for this hardworking actor to have gone through and that he should be clear of the dark tunnel now!

After Anniyan, really...Bheema was a chappai matter but all was forgiven -- aftr all you cannot deliver a super duper hit EVERY time, but now this? REALLY.

Oh and Chiyaan Vikram must have really been talking through that feathered hat of his to have said that this movie is one for kids, etc. Which parent in his or her right mind would want their kid(s) to watch this unnecessarily sleazy flick replete with a drug-addicted, sex-addicted villain running rampant on screen? Huh?

REALLY.

Ok, stop rant Teesu! Idhuvum kadandhu poyaaachu. (This too has already passed)

Fantasy dinner party (Tag from cuz dear)

I loved this one so, I copied it...my own answers of course: -

The rules are:- you can invite anyone, living or dead- you have a table that seats eight, but as you are one, you can invite seven people- you have to explain why you'd invite them. And for bonus points, what would you serve them for dinner?

Guest No. 1: George Clooney. Just to see if he is as dashing in person and to talk to as he looks. Think he may be more mouth watering than the menu...er, no, maybe not. NOTHING beats yummy food.

Guest No. 2: My father: A complete party person averse to NO party element and very interested in people, funny, charming and is sure to help me out a LOT with the entertaining. Oh and will not come in the way of my ogling Clooney. Quite a 'today's Dad' he was, at ease with my crushes and such.

Guest No. 3: Shivaji Ganesan: Again, want to see whether he is as stylish as he was in the black and white films or as over-emotional as he was in the colour films;). Plan to also make him recite some old dialogues, enact some favourite songs with the expressions, etc. Also to keep my Dad company (his age group) and let me attend to Clooney and Guest No. 4 in peace. TOO much eyeing of eye-candies will get me into trouble, no matter how cool the Dad is...!

Guest No. 4: Hariharan. Purely for the music he would bring to the table. No instruments required. Aahaaaa.

Guest No. 5: Aden character-guy from Sex and the City. At least, I think that's his name(!). Very nice-guy types. Eye candy too. Well, why not?

Guest No. 6: (Oh, no, am running out of space at the table) A girlfriend. Just whoever springs to my mind the morning of the dinner. Has to be a close friend who will help me out with the hostessing and one who won't steal my thunder. (Ho ho). What with Clooney, Aden and ...Shivaji and all. ;) So, girlfriends, if you want to make it, you know what / how to be with me hereafter!

Guest No. 7: S.B. My first MAJOR crush that lasted for a good 5 years. Even now, I consider him a crush-worthy guy in real life! But he will be at the dinner just to see how popular I am with Clooney and Aden. Eat your heart out, SB. Not that you really knew about my crush. (God forbid).

This is all assuming I was single and ready to mingle of course. Oh and if one of the above did not show up, I would put actor Vikram in. Very chatty and polite and nice. Need a person like that for any dinner party. Oh and am sure he is chivalrous too.

Dream on Teesu...

Menu: Few dishes from home (by yours truly -- just enough to show off but not so many that they would tire me out!), and some dishes from the Boat Club.


Now...for that zzzz to get on with the party...

Newborns

Oh they come into this world

All half-blinded and perhaps half-numbed,

Not knowing from where they come

And certainly, clueless ...even about mum.

They blink and then clear up
Burp, crap, pee and spit up,
Gaze pointlessly and then sleep
Not knowing that life's going to be deep.

They were squeezed and pushed through...
Hustled out into life,
Picked up, checked and wrapped,
And some even get their bottoms slapped!

Quickly, they learn to cry,
Little mouths wide open,
Faces all screwed up and coloured,
Their voices and lungs empowered.

Freed from the womb's confines,
They wave their tiny limbs about,
Go from feed to feed without purpose, without goal...
Until the exertions of sucking and just being, take their toll.

zzzzzz...

Newborns are little miracles alright,
Perfect little humans in their own right.
Helplessness and innocence at their core
Evoking feelings of protectiveness, tenderness, unconditional love and...much more!

Who is the fairest of us all?

Who, indeed?

Annoying that people have such an obsession for 'fairness'. Fairness creams galore. 'Fair and lovely' it seems. What are the 'non-fair' then? 'Dark and doomed', is it?

Stupid inclinations.

You know, one should really not CARE one way or the other about one's skin colour. Because of all this fairness mania, I am inclined to go the dark way!! Yes, I have taken to saying things or rather, singing things like 'karuppu dhaan yenakku puducha colour-u'...!! (song from some murali film about how black is a cool colour because of how many nice things and people are black!)

I am not happy with me for doing this either. Why should we bracket people who are fair as beautiful, and dark as...I don't know, people who are 'colourfully-challenged'!!!

Often heard: 'she/he looks nice, BUT she/he is dark...'!! As if that is the problem! Worse, they will even say 'he/she does not look great but at least he/she is fair...'!

What's with all this? Where did it even originate?

Not worth pondering over, huh?

It's all skin deep anyway.

Krishna Jayanthi

I am not really sure who likes butter, ghee, milk, cheedai (both jaggery and salted), murukku and sugary aval more. Lord Krishna or I?

Tough competition.

Being a God (!), am sure he can eat how much he likes and whenever he likes.

But...I am going to get some today:)

What's in a name?

I see a shop named 'Sperm' all the time. I suppose they sell menswear. It is not only amusing, it got me thinking about how I am not sure it's a great idea for a name ...you know, to do business. True one would easily remember it, but...kind of close to the 'taboo' line.

Speaking of which, I then recently saw another store that made me give it a second look, in sheer amazement because of the name. It said 'G-Spot Garments'. Supposedly for women. I mean ...honestly. (Harry Potter influence).

Would I actually tell people 'I got this T-shirt from SPERM...' and 'This top is from G-Spot!'.

Errrrr...

I don't think so! Not unless I was talking to people who would n't be aghast by these announcements, which number I can count off my fingers. What were they thinking when they named these shops so??

But then, I AM amused enough to consider shopping there. Besides, I heard SPERM's collection is very good!!!

What I have registered from a TV serial

Good days are really good...and bad days are really bad. But each does pass for sure. That's life...?

I can't say I care much for Tamil TV serials in spite of watching one now and then (ONLY now and then -- one is always in serious danger of an overdose with these 'megaserials'). Mindless TV of the lowest kind, I say. Too often, they are nasty, have nasty characters etched into them (the kinds you certainly will NOT tolerate on your doorstep leave alone have them close to you as an aunt, step mother or mother-in-law!), horrible dialogues, bitchy women, weak, STUPID, insipid and/or dangerously evil men, with some children thrown in in the middle of all the hysteria and used as victims, women who are evil beyond your wildest imagination, and so on...

The detailed funeral scenes in these serials are breathtaking to say the least and obviously, NOT in a good way! Long-forgotten and best-forgotten rituals associated with a corpse can make the strongest of stomachs churn unpleasantly and you simply switch off the TV in disgust. Or you SHOULD. But then, I will also say you should not be watching these in the first place, right? And, days of mourning will follow. Why, why, why? Why do people want to watch them? The most-often heard response is: "I have nothing else to do. How will I pass my time?"

May I suggest a few hundred options like blowing bubbles, giving yourself a foot or any-other-body-part massage or better still, getting one from someone else, sleeping, reading, singing, listening to music, forming a book club or even a recipe or cooking club...even eating! Stuff your face or on second thoughts, exercise, walk, shop, window-shop, join some course, do some course-homework, or simply sit in a park or roadside or terrace top and gaze out and about. Or just switch to a channel that has music or laughter or ...ANYTHING else. Best is meeting up with other people to talk and make merry, who would otherwise rot and languish in front of these horrible TRP-rich brain-fryers...there! You would be keeping them out of mischief too; doing good to society.

I believe TV serials are like any other temptation that one must resist and distract self from. (Am talking about those who are compulsive TVserial watchers).

There are too many people in my household who watch them. Therefore, the first hand info. The ONLY good thing -- if I must call it that, that has come of being exposed to these daily nightmares is that there was this one dialogue in the forerunner of Tamil TV serials with one-perfect-woman in the lead -- Chithi. It was delivered by the highly annoying character of the actor Shivakumar (yes, yes, the father of the terribly popular DARE I say a wee bit of a metrosexual actor - Suriya). In his usual tacky and boring style in delivering serious dialogues, Shivalumar's character often said therein: "Idhuvum kadandhu pogum". (This too shall pass). For Shivakumar fans, true, he has given formidable performances in the past (YAWN!) but the only one I can personally agree with is in the film SindhuBairavi, but alas, even that film had his usual 'ways' in it.

Anyway...

So, this dialogue was annoying then but always made sense. Moreover, I really do think about it a lot now and then. Of course, never during the good times...;) Who in her right mind would want THAT to pass?

But I have to say...thence, ten years later, I have still not come across any other useful (if you could call that that!) thing in ANY of the serials I have had the misfortune of overhearing or chanced upon.

People need to focus away from theTamil megaserials. Oh and am sure TV serials in every other language are equally bad. English, Hindi, Telugu or whatever. Clearly they are being designed to feed the LONELY, nasty, vengeful, even evil sides of the viewers. There is 80% negativity in them. Every true life's happening is tweaked a LOT to make it a LOT worse before it is presented as a part of the Tv serial to you. After all with serials, no disgust-value, no TRP-value, eh?

Mind it! Or should that be Miiiinnnd Eeeeet...

Love may do the trick

I am likely to incur the wrath, fury, annoyance and more/less of some people when I say this: If you really, really, REALLY love someone...anyone...then, you are indeed a believer. I feel, when you so love someone, you simply have-to-have-to have the faith. I don't see how you can get by otherwise. I just don't.

I mean, when your loved one is sick or in danger, what do you do? Fret? Cry? Despair? Stay practical?

Or...secretly pray?

Not that anything you (the non-believer) say to this may be convincing enough and I daresay you may not really want to bother with explanations here, but still...I have said it. And I would definitely love to hear the other side's thoughts . Who knows, there is a good chance that the answers may be intelligent and perhaps even set me thinking. If someone I love ran into some grave trouble(God forbid!!!), I just don't know what I would do other than pray. For me, there is no other recourse. I mean, yeah, I would do other things necessary to help that person and not JUST pray (that would be stupid and irresponsible), but I would not just do everything in my power to ease things and then sit back. I would pray mighty hard.

I have to admit though, that if you are the detached type, perhaps you really could stay a non-believer. That is possible...

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Note: This post is NOT aimed at anyone in particular. Not as a jibe or poke, definitely. This is just some loud thinking being aired -- a loud wondering if you will;)

Of lizards and cockroaches...

The very word 'blood-curdling' is brought to my mind every time I encounter a lizard or a cockroach...and inevitably, scream! Is it just me or is it a fact that the more scared and averse you are to something, the more likely it is that that 'something' presents and REpresents itself to you?

A few months ago, I had the misfortune of stepping on a lizard (yeah, yeah, poor lizard, sure, enough of that!). It happend this way: I was ready to go out and was hurrying in to the kitchen for a drink of water. Usually, I wear 'bathroom slippers' (why is it always called that anyway?) inside the house, mostly because I want to 'warn' the lizards that reside in my kitchen that 'I am coming, so HIDE', but that day, I did not. (And usually I go thump thump thump in to the kitchen. Not very graceful, but hey! Grace is not everything especially at home. Me, I WANT to be clumsy at home!!)

Anyway, I strode in to the kitchen only to step on something slimy and SICK. Disgusting. Annnd, there was a squirmy thing happening too. I simply realised in a second what had happened and started screaming...unbearably, and even to my ears, it was terrible. I launched myself on to the kitchen counter (don't imagine it) still screaming and...actually crying. It was simply awful. To make everything worse, there was no lizard in sight, just a wriggling, jumping lizard-tail! Utterly sickened, I must say I cried like a baby with no feelings spared!! Oh God! Even today months later, I shudder. Apparently, lizards can shed their tails at will and the damn tail has some fight left in it too. It was soooo disgusting. I actually looked up google images for lizards and cockroaches but even the images put me off so much, I am not going to use them here with this post.

Theer is a superb Tamil word for aversion : 'Aruvaruppu'!

And that brings me to the villain of villains.

The cockroach.

WHY do I hate the cockroach so? Irrational fear, is it? The worst kind is the flying cockroach. Uggggh. Even as I am typing this out, I feel all shaky and fidgety all over! The flying cockroach can make me let out the same kind of scream as for a lizard, only, it will curdle more than just blood, I tell you.

The screams my inner self seems to have reserved to let out for these two beings -- a reptile and an insect, could wake the dead! Not that I want to think about corpses now...Oh dear. Now THAT's a real uncomfortable subject which I can come to later....or not.

I am still wondering how I can get rid of these fears.

How, how, how?

Friends o' friends

Friends are obviously so very important to most of us. The 'gelling', the vibing, the many things in common and even endearing differences...they are all a part of that world.

But, what about the tricky matter of friends of friends? Ahhh. Sometimes it clicks and sometimes it does n't.

I have a few friends whose friends easily become mine -- well if not my FRIENDS then, my very amiable acquaintances. But with so many other friends, I can barely tolerate their friends and vice-versa. It is a rather delicate situation really. What if your friend's friend cribs to your friend about you and / or you crib to your friend about his/her friend? (Ahem, not sure this sentence makes sense!) Anyway, unnecessary and sticky for the friend sandwiched in between.

Therefore, apart from a few well-thought-out experiments, me thinks it's best to stick to one's own friends and let them stick to theirs separately, rather than throwing all together once, twice, too often!

Note: Personal experience may or may not be the lead to this post!
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Except...
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it IS!

Cheers!

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.;)