Another post copied and pasted from my internal blog. Written for a blog carnival where people chose this topic especially for me!

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And here’s my entry for the July Carnival! Aravind, thanks for the opportunity you have given me, to ‘enlighten’ women around in Channel one!

Tips to impress your boyfriend:

1. Do not yawn when he talks about bikes when it’s 11 30 pm and you woke up from sleep to pick his call. Feign interest in shock absorbers, brake fluid and clutches. Learn to nod your head when he says any vehicle less than his 350 cc Bullet is for sissies.

2. Tell him he looks damn handsome when he grows a three week beard, after betting with pals at work that he’ll not shave until 2 days before the wedding. A two month beard- all for a dinner at The Park!!!! Yeah, don’t tell him it ain’t funny

3. Learn to understand that spending a four figure amount on booze is economical while getting a pair of sandals for the same amount clearly isn’t! Never let him see salon bills, he needs to see only the end result, let him be blissfully ignorant of the strategy and the fortune spent.

4. Impress him with an Orkut profile and a blog that flaunt of an eclectic taste in books, music, movies and then forget books, forget World Space, forget movies… to loiter around with him in the streets of Chennai, under the baking sun

5. Dress up for an hour, learn to use the mascara from your 15 year old neighbor, paint your face in subtle shades and he’ll fall for you, but claim that you haven’t used make up AT ALL. A white lie can get you anywhere!

6. Accept the fact that it’s ‘COOL’ if he wears the same pair of Jeans (along with bathroom slippers) for three consecutive days. And a seven day trek trip with no shower is completely acceptable. Showing a face ain’t gonna help!

7. Appreciate swear vocabulary, especially on the road when he vents his frustration with bad drivers with the choicest expletives he can come up with. Swear vocab, is a ‘man’-thing! You can’t change that. But THAT does not mean that he’s okay with you picking up the same vocab.

8. Let him ogle at all the hot babes, dressed (er, I mean, not dressed) in skimpy clothes. AGAIN, don’t argue with him when he gives you the ‘Paavams of India’ look when you tell him you can be very comfortable in a swimsuit

Copied, pasted from my internal blog! Wrote it for a ‘Friendship’ themed story contest!
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I started with this story when Meenaks announced the Mystery story contest! And today, I dug it out of my draft archives, gave it an ending and am submitting the same for the Friendship story contest! Bear with the incoherence, I have resumed the story today after some 6 months The title sucks, I know! But then, I could come up with nothing else!!!
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Calvin Subramanian, my name’s as weird as my desires and pursuits. About my name, well, what else do you expect from a comic freak of a dad and a very theist mom? The name’s lent itself to many troubles- like Mylapore-an Radha refusing to glance my side back in college and hot Keralite, Fiona Matthews showing an interest in learning Basketball from me! Err; umm it wasn’t really trouble until she found out that I wasn’t baptized! My desires and pursuits- I fancy myself as a writer/blogger/gourmet/chef/poet/film critic/guitarist/basketball player/ shutterbug/kolgai parappu seyalaalar of a political party that’s yet-to-be-formed and BTW, yes, you guessed it right, what else, am a Software Engineer, working for one of the many IT companies spread on either side of the OMR.

My dreams, pursuits and troubles- I share with Ravi, my cousin. He was born the tenth day I was born; were delivered by the same gynaecologist, we saw the same moon, listened to the same stories from the same Paatti as our dinner of thayir saadham and maavadu was served. We occupy adjacent houses, share a compound wall, went to the same school, play theru cricket together, have the same swear vocabulary, share bikes and passwords. AND, Atthai and Atthimbaer had better sense than Amma and Appa in naming their son. Ravi Krishnamurthy sounds a lot more cohesive than Calvin Subramanian! Not that I intend rechristening, God knows how many more Fiona Matthews’ are out there in the world!

He works for one another Software Company and writes the CAT, XAT, JMET and SNAP along with me every year! We took the IIT JEE together. And flunked together! We rebelled against the GRE-MS route together. He plays Bridge, treks mountains and hills (St. Thomas Mount to the Himalayas- they never fail to fascinate him) when he feels bored, teaches street kids calligraphy or some such obscure thingy, diligently builds sandcastles at the Bessie Beach every Sunday morning after we are done playing Beach cricket and he plays with my earnings in addition to his- he talks of Bulls and Bears and stock indices while I just ask him to shut up and sign on the dotted line. He dots those lines!

Rendu Vetti Pasanga, you can call the pair of us! Best buds, bosom buddies, Uyir Nanbargal, Deva and Surya, Kumble and Srinath, Chandler and Joey, Daemon and Pytheus! My best man the day I tie the knot. And I know I’ll be his best man. He was there to lend me his shoulder when my first love crumbled; we experimented with cigarettes and beer together. And he’s still proud that he wasn’t the one who threw up back then!

Our varied interests make sure we spend much, much time with the Net. That’s when we stumbled upon Centripetal Force. Centripetal Force aka C.F, is the anonymous blog of a genius! A genius in par with some of the best writers known to mankind. C.F dealt, not with Physics but with many vetti aspects of common life. Interested vetti souls like us! And the writer called himself The Tangent! It all started with Googling about the legalities behind insuring a marriage (now, don’t ask me why I did that, it was just a random Vetti thought, I swear) and Bingo, I end up in this anonymous blog written by another seemingly Chennai-Vaasi!

I forgot all about the initial search and scoured each post in that blog. We kept tabs on it from then on and so did the rest of the blogging world, I think- Tangent interested most bloggers and non bloggers alike! It was slowly building into an obsession, especially because the posts were few and far between. Ravi comes up with statistics and says Tangent actually posts more often than 67.35 percent of the usual regular blogging crowd! Aargh, numbers, numbers, numbers!!! He loves them, I can’t stand them!
‘Podaa, neeyum un statistics um’, I swore out loud and read through Tangent’s archives for the nth time.
‘Cal, why do you think it’s a guy? It can be a girl! The latest post was on something as girlish as ‘the perfect urulakazhangu roast’! Why would any self respecting guy do that da???? I bet it’s a gal, mark my words!
‘Nejamaavaa da??? It might be a girl, yes! And if it is indeed a girl, then… Am in love with her daa…. What a genius!!! AND, she does potato roast daaaa, what more can I want in life’
A cushion came flying my way, of course, from Ravi’s direction!
‘Uruppadra vazhiya paaru daa naayae’, came the reply.
‘I know your aiming skills aren’t rusty, you needn’t prove that time and again, AND I repeat, if Tangent is a gal… am going to make her my wife. Now, excuse me, I have some work- I’m on an expedition… searching for my wife’
Ravi shook his head from one side to another in sheer exasperation!
‘I should have never voiced out the possibility of Tangent being a girl, I hope against hope Tangent happens to be a 60 year old hag! Ekkaedo ketto po’, he mumbled and fell asleep.

In the coming days, we hatched several game plans to find out the identity of the mysterious Tangent. Orkut, FaceBook, LinkedIn, the rest of the blog world, we scoured every single possible content that might lead us to Tangent but we arrived at Nought! She/he made damn sure that there was no trace left behind! My reluctant partner in crime was obvious- Ravi! Who else would sit and filter out Google searches, optimize the resultant hits blah blah… Two bumbling amateur hackers who had no clue about sophisticated tracing measures did not help one bit. Meanwhile, Tangent kept posting. I was of course, happy to note that the frequency of posts was up considerably. Inadvertently, he/she once let it slip that he/she preferred Marina’s cut maanga to Bessie’s. Viduvomaa, we checked out every maanga-eating girl in Bessie for four weekends!! Until the maangaa-vendors of Bessie banned us from the beach because two ogling guys meant bad business for them!

‘Cal, I don’t think he/she’s from Chennai. Come on, which Chennai-ite has time to keep posting crazy things? If it’s a Chennai-ite, then it’s got to be a Housewife or a retired septuagenarian in a wheel chair!’
In the heart of my heart, I badly wanted Tangent to be a single, tall, 20-something old girl with looooooong hair and dimpled cheeks!
But what Ravi said made sense. And I swallowed a lump… But the hope wasn’t exactly dead After a month and a half, well, I had to give up on the search. That is, Ravi refused to spend time in this pursuit, he called it useless! Crazy fellow, if only he paid more attention to better things in life. Like interesting women! I still do try, sometimes… when Ravi’s not around to snatch the mouse from my hand. Or at the work comp when my boss is not around.
Miss. Tangent, where art thou????

Well, days passed, the initial momentum slowed down, and my orkut, facebook spying led to acquainting many friends, and I refurbished contacts with old pals. Radha finds me less appalling now and she even accepted my lunch invite last Saturday. I should say she’s grown much more beautiful in the last three years, since I met her last. And my nights are kept busy chatting/messaging with her now. Tangent has taken a back seat. And who needs Ms. Tangent now, when Radha has gladly accepted another lunch invite the coming Saturday!

6 more months…
Ravi is cross that I don’t spend time with him. The moronic dude doesn’t understand that being engaged is different, does he? Pals gotta understand that! Moms too. And pet dogs. And basketball buddies. My boss has to be foremost in this list! Heck, the whole world has to understand that an engaged man has time only for his fiancee! My weekends are spent solving the Crossword at Radha’s place and the Besant Nagar beach maanga vendors see me with Radha these days, not with a fellow ogling cousin! Ravi, wait.. I will have my last laugh when you are engaged and you do the same!

One week before the wedding,
My mailbox announces that Tangent has posted again. After eons, I should admit (don’t you dare tell Radha) that I was curious to know what she (ok ok, I can hear you say it can be a ‘he’ ) was up to!
What does the post say? ‘Wish you a very happy married life daa, macchaan!- Ravi’!

And man, did I go mad when I found the drafts of each post of C.F, on Ravi’s desktop! I did go ballistic, threatened to push him off the parapet, shouted on top of my voice, to match decibels with his laugh… but then, Ravi it is. But Ravi, let’s see who has the last laugh, I will make sure the messer becomes the messee you just wait and watch daa!

Topping my fav list of books is ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ by Harper Lee. The rest, I can’t rate or rank! I love each of them with the same fervor. In this post, am including just three books, because I have already written about other books that have interested me- Ponniyin Selvan, Sivagamiyin Sabadham the lots more.

To Kill a Mockingbird:
One of my greatest regrets is that Harper Lee never came up with another book before or after this. Maybe with good reason. Even she can’t attempt to match the standards of this masterpiece. Jean Louis ‘Scout’ Finch, the six year old narrator of the story takes you to America of the 1930’s. I love period stuff and this is especially interesting because it explains life through the eyes of a child. Social ostracism of mockingbirds*, racism and much more seen through a child’s eyes-childish innocence, ethics from their viewpoint, metaphorical references… In fact, the CBSE should think of including this Bildungsroman book as part of middle school curriculum.

The story starts with Scout reminiscing about her childhood in Maycomb, Alabama with her brother Jem and pal Dill. And thereby narrates the story of Boo Radley, the reclusive neighbor of theirs who spends his days locked up at home because of some random deed in his teens; and Tom Robinson, the innocent who’s convicted just he’s black and the jury happens to be white, despite the fact that Atticus Finch (the idealistic lawyer, father of Jem and Scout) tries his best to convince the jury that Tom’s innocent.

The book was made into a movie starring Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch. And I loved watching the movie as much as I loved reading it. Every scene, every frame seems to do justice to the source! Peck won an Academy Award for his portrayal of Atticus Finch. Interestingly, Robert Duvall (Yeah, the German-Irish Tom Hagen from ‘The Godfather’) plays a cameo in this movie, as none other than Arthur ‘Boo’ Radley. He appears for just one scene, in the end. I can go on and on and on about this book but I choose to stop right here!!! Explore it on your own.

*- Atticus ‘One-Shot’ Finch tells the kids after they get a gun from their uncle as a Christmas gift, “Shoot all the blue jays you want, if you can hit ‘em, but remember it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.” It is later explained by Miss. Maudie, a neighbor, that mockingbirds don’t do any harm in the world. The soul thing they provide is cheery music for people to enjoy. And hence it’d be a sin to hunt them. Blue jays, on the other hand, destroy crops. Metaphorical mockingbirds in the story are Tom Robinson and Boo Radley.

Kolaiyuthir Kaalam:
I have always been VERY interested in Sujatha’s Ganesh-Vasanth novels. And this one is simply the best G-V novel I have read till date. The title has been very cleverly coined- Kolaiyuthir Kaalam. Written in the early 1980’s, Ganesh and Vasanth, the two lawyers take up a case of a farmhouse inheritance when they get to meet Leena, the sinfully beautiful heiress, her uncle AND the ‘ghost’ of Puthravathi, one of Leena’s ancestors who lived centuries back, in the same farmhouse.

Ganesh, ever the rational, refuses to believe in the ghost of Puthravathi and takes much effort to explain the strange happenings in the farmhouse through Laser technology and holography (it might sound too basic in the current circumstances but remember that the book was written in 1981). And the apparent intent behind such doing, the people who might be involved… the ending is awesome, where Sujatha leaves the reader to decide on his/her own.

Ganesh and Vasanth, the recurring lawyer characters in Sujatha’s works demand a separate post for themselves; I will come up with one such post, someday. And hence, will describe them minimally here. The layer duo can’t be more different from each other. While Ganesh is serious, sober and the stereotypical lawyer who speaks law, logic and sense in every page, Vasanth in ultimate UYA, ever ready with a Playboy joke, wandering eyes, flirtatious charm… one who can charm any woman with his antics… Kalki’s Vallavarayan Vandhiya Thevan and Vasanth are two of a kind, methinks! Of course, Vandhiya Thevan minus Kundhavai. I can’t imagine Vasanth committed to one single gal for life

The Fountainhead:
I hated the book after the first read. in fact, i wrote out a lengthy hate post stating vehemently why i hated it! And now, after two years, I have fallen in love with the very same book. Howard Roark, Gail Wynand, Objectivism and the quotes leave the intellectual in you thinking for years together. Fountainhead is a book not be just read, it has to be realized.

I don’t touch the papers, the last book I read was 2 months back, I haven’t seen sunrise/sunset for eons. V for Velai, it is. Mornings start with that beautiful Leo Coffee jingle done by ARR in his Roja days. I chose that as my alarm tone imagining my day to start with a handsome Arvind Swamy (handsome he WAS, back then… sigh, the Thalapathi, Roja days) smiling up from his kaapi tumbler flashing in my mind, the jingle tune equally good- the perfect transition from the hands of Morpheus to reality. BUT what’s happened now? I have begun associating loooooong working days to start with that and hence I have grown to hate the tune and Arvind Swamy and kaapi tumblers!!!
Speaking of old jingles, it’s been quite some time since we have heard ‘Sottu neelam doi, Regal sottu neelam doi’, right? That, if I remember right, was done by the Late Mahesh Mahadevan. Or was it ARR himself? The Nescafe ad jingle was great too. The taste that gets you starting… the taste that gets you going… Nescafe… Btw, my current seat has perfect Vaastu. Err, I mean, perfect radio signal! So, am listening to FM Rainbow and AIR almost always! From 9 am to 9 15 pm, when I leave for the day! It’s been almost a month since my iPod ran out of charge and it still lies unattended to.
Weekend last was spent on NH 45, sleep starved and longing for my own bed, for my shower. And I dread the prospect of turning forty. I spent a few hours in the company of a forty year old and all she seemed to talk about was her daughter’s holiday homework of having to cut a doughnut into eight pieces with just 3 cuts, driving the kid to chess classes, PTA meetings and so on! Coming to think of it, I never bothered to do my holiday homework, till date, I don’t know pawn from bishop and I conveniently ‘forgot’ to mention PTA meetings and Parent Observation Week* timings to my parents! Heee Haw!!!
*- PSBB had this annoying practice of inviting parents for a week, to school, to watch classes in progress, they’d be seated along with the students in class!!! Wonder who came up with this repulsive idea!!! And worst of all, the teachers would choose to give us our cycle test/ unit test/ speed test answer papers with our scores just that week!!!! Two kids in the same school and mum still doesn’t know of such a practice, thanks to our convenient selective amnesia
I know it is suicidal to be writing a post now when I have nothing less than LOADS to do and yet here I am, typing away vetti vishayams, to glory!!!especially, when i have nothing to say.
V for velai… here I come!

Madras to Pondicherry:

Jenma Saabalyam Adaindhaen- had one crazy weekend at Pondicherry. Three gals, one backpack each, one early Saturday morning, we just hopped into some random bus to Pondicherry (Yeah, all three families would rather go sell the car for a pack of Lion Dates, than give us the keys!!!! And all you chauvinists out there waiting to pounce on us with your stereotypical ‘Women Drivers’ !@^%^%&&*^^’ talk, DON’T YOU DARE!!!)
No plans, no itinerary, no destination in mind, an awesome room just a stone’s throw from the beach… what more can we ask for!!! Undiluted blissssssssssss!!! Don’t ask us where we went, we have no answer to that- just went theru porukkifying… jaywalking in every street- we could not pronounce any of those street/boulevard/avenue names! Ananda Ranga Pillai Square is Ananda Ranga Poulle Square!!!! And err, the quizzer (yeah, that was once upon a time in college… when quizzing meant I could get out of classes for days with an O.D certificate) in me was offended when I did not know who Ananda Ranga Pillai was! Wikipedia says his diaries made him popular, they provide a great deal of info about French colonial rule in Pondicherry.
Late nights at the beach, morning walks by the shore, discussing random stories, confessions, boating in the luxurious backwaters with African hippies with their hair done with hundred miniscule braids, food at the Ashram dining hall… it was one trip to remember! Warding off drunkards who begged for money in the Queen’s English… with Gandhi notes, - yeah, we didn’t know how else we could shoo him away, we had to shell out his liquor allowance for the night! (Err, mum, believe me… we really did go back to our room at 9 pm sharp: P)
A slight drizzle stubbornly chose to stay, the whole weekend and added to our fun! Sipping hot chocolate at the Le’ Café, just about 4 feet from the lashing sea, watching the drizzle was heaven on earth. There was the random incident… when this hippy apparated out of nowhere and gave me a slap and got away scot free! And the three of us were shell shocked, gaping at each other stupidly, scandalized and made a beeline back to our room!!! Yeah, veera theera mangayar that we were… what with two of us towering over most men with our gigantic frames! (And mum, this did not happen either! Am joking Maaa)
We did not go to many tourist destinations; we spent neither time nor dime shopping! Yeah, the combined shopping of three 23 year old girls amounted to a cake of detergent which we could not do without and the individual expenses came to an unbelievably economical three figure mark! For two whole days. Nope, am not kidding… am as serious as Goof is, on his farewell post!!!!!!!!!! Food at the Ashram dining hall comes at a price of 20 bucks a DAY! Imagine 20 bucks for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I have a fine mind to donate my earnings to the Ashram and frequent Pondicherry every weekend!
The town’s layout and architecture are unique. It’s almost like the French left a part of their lives behind. Not just the people, not just the architectural style. Interestingly, the architecture in the French quarter is said to be distinctly Dutch. Yeah, in a place where people speak Tamil, streets sound French and teem with firangs of every nationality. And one Bengali who brought in a huuuuuuuge Bong population that still resides there. There’s no rosogulla or mishti dahi though
Btw, does anyone have the movie ‘Madras to Pondicherry’?????? I sooooo wanna watch it!
The bus ride back to Madras was memorable, sharing the seat with one cool hunk of a guy and striking conversation for three whole hours about palmistry among other things. Consensus? I stand a good chance to go mad … I can almost hear you say ‘say something new, Deeps’!

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Pirivom… Sandhippom…

It was probably the Pondy influence, the piriyaa vidai… that I had fallen totally in love with neidhal and neidhal saarndha nilam… went to Besant Nagar beach the very next day, forayed into the waters heroically in a ‘Sandhippom again’ kinda feel AND one huge wave made me kiss my phone a goodbye! Heyyyy… Goodbye Nanbaaa… third phone that I am losing! Pirindhom… no sandhippu again! It’s quite a task tracing numbers a third time again! That however did not deter me from going to Fruit Shop, Besant Nagar and downing a heavenly strawberry milk shake! A minor consolation for losing 8k, my contacts folder, certain messages I had been clinging to for long… yeah, consolation at the price of 40 bucks and a few more calories!
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Kurudhi Punal

Last Tuesday morning was one eventful day what with zooming past in my Scooty one moment and lying on the road with the Scooty on top of me the next moment. Yeah, I was involved in a road accident. One of those huge college buses came in the other direction, billowing thick white fumes that hit me on my face, I could not see what was in front of me, braked into the vehicle/ whatever in front of me. And next thing I know, I am lying on the road with my right leg feeling like Harry Potter’s leg after his descent from the Firebolt during Quidditch! Shucks, that was at least adventurous!!! I was holding onto my purse which held 25k, about to pass out any moment, with a mob around. Somehow managed to dial home! And yeah, the 25k is still safe! Though… my knee is now embroidered with strands of thread jutting out in various directions. . Without local anesthetic, at that! The doc and nurse applied a generous dollop of tincture and then took around 20 minutes to find the suture kit!!! !@#$$#%%^%^%^& Added to that, he stitched up my skin without local anesthetic and then claimed ‘Great, I have seen grown up men howling out with pain and crying out loud and not a sound from your lips. Nor a tear from your eyes’ Oh yeah, as if I had energy left in me to cry or shout out! All the crying and howling was over on seeing mum and bro at the accident spot!!! J So, that explains why I have been away from TCO, from Channel one and from OCS the past week!! Learning from this lesson: Take pollution control in automobiles seriously, folks!!!
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PadikkaadhavaL:

Revs, am not proud to state this. But I am still in page 7 with the PGW book that you lent me!
Atlas Shrugged- am in page 3.
Shantaram- some 250 pages and odd pages.
LOTR- Am yet to start!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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A day of melancholy. Rather, a day of ‘wanting’ to stick to melancholy, while life spirals out beyond grasp. And the reigns that control its centripetal velocity are not in familiar realms. Listening to Uravugal Thodarkadhai back to back. Again and again. ‘Ini ellaam sugame’ keeps ringing in my mind. And for some strange reason, I seem to need the assurance. Reassurance. I keep pressing the play-again button. Whether it really is ‘Ini Ellaam Sugame’, I don’t know. Don’t have a clue about it. Of course, the Goat born in the fag-end of December does not believe in fairy tale endings.

I’m moving away from the past with a pace that startles me. There are no sketches and route maps to future. I have no visions about future. And the present is spent in strange motley of emotions. Strangely, I am associating myself more with Vaanathi than with Poonkuzhali. A transition that strangely offers no qualms, no identity crises. Contention?
Kalyani or Kaikeyi?

All I need, is a premature short-term first installment of second childishness. And a weekend trip. An hour long foot massage with some Senchurutti or Neelambari playing on the iPod. N no. of laps in a pool, until I tire out completely, tire so much that it requires too much of an effort to think. All ye, grey cells, you find your way to the arms of Morpheus.

I’m least alarmed, but would this steadfast sanity drive me insane? Worth a thought. Clarity that glares back at me. Doesn’t intimidate me, though. I don’t refuse to take questions, it is just that it’s insane to expect an answer.

Moving, moving… Light-years ahead of the previous fuel stop. I stopped keeping track of the map, nor do I care to look at the speedometer. Vedhanthamaa Siddhaanthamaa… Whatever it is that I am taking, with reckless abandon, neither is it getting me on a high, nor is it making me sleep. And the glass gets more potent with every successive round. Yet, my fingers hold the stem steadier than before.

A palpable mirage?

I started writing this, inspired by the Aravindan’s and the Madhan’s (Internal Bloggers, this post is copied, pasted from an internal post of mine) and I tried my best to choose the Nayakan’s and the rest… But somehow, I ended up choosing not-known-to-make-it-to-fav-lists movies! What the heck, it’s my list and I needn’t justify my likes, right?
So, here goes my list:

Iruvar:
Two equally magnetic personalities start with a symbiotic relationship- one’s a struggling actor who yearns for a breakthrough and the other, a radical poet with huge political ambitions. Mohanlal as Anandan, the extra who transcends barriers and achieves demi-god status in filmdom and Prakashraj as Tamilselvan, the radical poet who exudes as much charisma as the former. When they taste success and the other baggage that comes along with- women, power and fan following, their lives take tumultuous turns. And in the end, Tamilselvan’s eulogy for Anandan leaves you spellbound.
Personally, I loved the recreation of the sixties and the seventies; the number ‘Aayirathil Naan Oruvan’ is bloody brilliant- it seriously takes you back to that era with its slightly western feel and the dance sequence.

Vaaname Ellai:
A band of three men and two women, think they have had enough with people meddling with their lives irrevocably and decide on a date on which they will all commit suicide. And until then, they live life to the fullest. Their attempt to enjoy the last days of their lives is beautifully etched, scene after scene. Especially noticeable throughout the movie, is the effect the impending suicide plan has, on each of their actions. The titular song ‘Vaaname Ellai’ and ‘Manidhaa Manidhaa’ flaunt of brilliant lyrics. A movie I watch every time they telecast it on TV!

Thillu Mullu:
Comedy in Tamil filmdom was best during the 70’s and the 80’s, in my opinion. And this movie is the mother of all those! A laugh riot that tickles me right from the title song to the very last scenes- where Kamal Haasan steals the show with just one scene!!!!!
And Thalaivar’s best role till date, in my opinion, is that of Aiyampettai Arivudai Nambi Kaliaperumal Chandran/Indran!

Chennai 28:
Theru Cricket, lower middle class tenements, Teens, 20 somethings, Boys, Good Relationships, Relationships gone/going sour, Mafia, did I mention Cricket, Galeej, Cooum, Cricket AND fun! End of story. Err, there’s no story but who cares! Chennai 28 is one of the best movies I have watched in the recent times. Refreshingly original and after seeing the movie, you come out feeling lighter. I am a huge fan of anything ‘Local’. From Marina Beach cut pineapple to theru cricket. And this film joins the list!!! An ode to Madras-life! In Madras Bhaashai and set to dappanguthu mettu 

Arangetram:
There are a few movies which you watch once, you can never forget the movie but you can’t bring yourself to watch it again. Arangetram is one such movie. There are things in the world that you wish you had never come across; certain facets of loved ones you wish you’d been ignorant of… Well, this movie delves deep into such things. I definitely wish I had never seen the movie. Yet, I gotta admit, it’s one of the best movies from K.B. And hence, it’s part of this list!

Johny:
I still don’t know how this film made it to the list, but what the heck!! It’s my favorite list and I decide what goes in  I am a huge fan of Thalaivar and like that period best when he did films like Johny, Billa, Pudhu Kavidhai. Johny is one stylish movie with good music, Rajnikanth, Sridevi and the usual dollop of masala! Rajnikanth fits both roles to a tee, as the barber and as the con artist. Sridevi plays a mature role and ALL five songs from the movie are huge favourites of mine- Oru iniya manadhu isai ai anaithu Sellum, Senorita, Aasaiya Kathula thoodhu vittu, En vaanilae, Kaatril endhan geetham…

Michael Madana Kamarajan:
Kamal Haasan-Crazy Mohan, 4 roles, fun, fun and more fun!!! There are the ‘Andha Naal’s and the ‘Nayakan’s… and there is just one MMKR. Can watch this once a month and still not get bored!!!

Andha Naal:
Sivaji Ganesan in an anti-hero role, a murder, Rashonmon-esque unfolding of the movie… one of Kodambakkam’s finest movies ever. The movie opens with the murder of the Sivaji Ganesan, playing an ‘unpatriotic’ (the film is set in the pre-independence backdrop) radio engineer who sided with the Japanese and Javert Seetharaman, the cop, pieces fragments of evidence and finally nabs the culprit.
And that reminds me, I gotta watch Ezhai padum paadu, another Javert Seetharaman movie.

Kannathil Muthamittaal:
I brag and sometimes seriously ponder on whether I was born without lachrymal glands but it took just this movie to prove otherwise. Period. It starts with Hamsadhwani playing with your heart, Nandita Das and Madhavan making you shed silent tears- her with well, her doing and him with his mighty verses. The kid’s mulish stand in wanting to meet her biological mother, the dad understanding the kid and taking her all the way to Sri Lanka not belittling it as a crazy whim, a war torn country and the hope that still shines bright in the people… the movie is a masterpiece, scripted to perfection. The lines that Madhavan recites, when caught by the LTTE is a huge highlight.

இன்று இல்லெங்கிலும் நாளை

எங்கள் புருவங்கள்
தாழ்ந்துள்ளன
எங்கள் இமைகள் கவிந்துள்ளன
எங்கள் உதடுகள் அண்டியுள்ளன
எங்கள் பற்களும் கண்டிப்போய் உள்ளன
நாங்கள் குனிந்தே நடந்து செல்கிறோம்

எங்களை நீங்கள் ஆண்டு நடத்துக
எங்களை நீங்கள் வண்டியில் பூட்டுக
எங்கள் முதுகில் கசையால் அடிக்குக
எங்கள் முதுகுத் தோல் பிய்ந்துரிந்து போகட்டும்

தாழ்ந்த புருவங்கள் ஒருநாள் நிமிரும்
கவிந்த இமைகள் ஒருநாள் உயரும்
இறுகிய உதடுகள் ஒருநாள் துடிதுடிக்கும்
கண்டிய பற்கள் ஒருநாள் நறநறக்கும்
அதுவரை நீங்கள் எங்களை ஆள்க
அதுவரை உங்கள் வல்லமை ஓங்குக!

The kid’s brushes with the real face of terrorism, the BGM’s that convey much more than the visual scene, the child having a tete a tete with a suicide bomber just before he blasts himself… Mani at his best!!! Especially interesting, is the portrayal of ‘Appa’- Madhavan and the daughter…
Music is mindboggling; I love the BGM’s especially- Sattena Ninaindhadhu Nenjam, sarkkarai aanadhu kanneer…

Varumaiyin Niram Sivappu/ Unnaal Mudiyum Thambi:
I can’t seem to choose between the two of them! While one deals with helping oneself in the society, the other deals with an attempt to shape the society. Interspersed with a lotta Bharathiyaar verses, fiery dialogue deliveries, Kamal Haasan… Tamil Film Music at its best!

P.S- I did think of coming up with ‘My fav movies in English’ but the net total of movies I’d have watched till date would be ten!!! So, am not hazarding a try!
P.P.S- I just realised that 4 out of these movies feature Kamal Haasan

The night sky outside welcomed me with its promise of fresh air; the room freshener inside was beginning to lose its initial intoxication it had on my senses. Notes from the Mandolin failed to interest me.  The mental void inside me was jolted slightly by the cold metal doorknob. Momentary though. The moonless, pitch black sky with its million miniscule stars seemed to invite me with open hands. I felt in place among them, unlike amidst the myriad of Kancheevaram silks, Mysore silk crepes and lehengas sashaying across inside the wedding hall.

I wasn’t exactly claustrophobic but it did feel strange to be among a bunch of uncles, aunts, cousins and relatives who I meet once in an eon; during weddings when they realize that they once had a brother/cousin/nephew who left behind a family. That warrants an invitation sent across to mum.  And that’s how I happened to be there. In the middle of nowhere, I told myself. A family that I didn’t know much about- except their names, a family that I could not associate myself with, except for the coffee brown complexion that I had  acquired from dad. My own family, my very own roots. Strangers, people whose houses I’d not walk straight into and open their refrigerators for a raid.

I looked at those brown hands of mine- holding the metal railing… Dad’s brown skin… I don’t quite know for sure. It’s only hearsay. And a few photographs that lie in the cupboard back home. His passport, his driving license, his bank pass books, degree certificates… Newspaper clippings of articles that interested him.  And I know nothing much else. Nothing that really matters. 

I failed to notice the doorknob turn again and I was not quite happy to share the space with a newcomer. My solitude, it is my own sky today… My solace from the madding crowd.  From people with whom  I share 50 percent common gene.

‘I was your Dad’s classmate‘he said and continued ‘Throughout school’.

I looked into his face expecting him to continue, for I didn’t quite know what to say. I had a million questions to ask. Like Amudha in Kannathil Mutthamittaal, when she meets her mom. But then, KM was a movie, Amudha was a kid. Not a 23 year old who’s expected to act her age. Besides, the screenplay was predefined in her case. I didn’t have the bound notebook with ‘Ten Questions to be asked if I come across Dad’s classmate’. I sometimes wish I had done that.

‘Oh… That’s great, so you REALLY knew him?’ I asked. Stupid question, I know. You needn’t tell me that. But what else do I say, when confronted by a stranger who knows lots of facts I’m dying to know.

Was he capitalist? Or socialist… Did he bunk classes? What movies did he watch? What books did he like? Did he read much at all? Rajni or Kamal? Sivaji or MGR?

Was he a back bencher like me? Studious geek or the cool dude? Did he ever flunk in a test? What did he do with his first salary? Did he play street cricket? Did he bowl or bat… who was his favorite sportsperson?

Did he have a crush on the Maths lecturer like I did in college? Would he have laughed over it if I had told him I had a crush on the lecturer… Or would he have blown over the top for that… Was he a teetotaler? Did he have a college sweetheart? Or was he the one who’s never made a fool out of himself…

Would he have been depressed on knowing that I was no good in CAT? That I was nowhere near the academically inclined cousins? Would he have been happy to know that? Would he have accepted the fact nevertheless? What could a red mark in my report card have meant? Grounded weeklong? Advice? Or would he have signed it rightaway like Amma…

Appa, who was he?  Remains a mystery to me. All these years and the years to come.

Questions, questions and questions… I asked none of them though… I don’t know what my eyes convened. Eagerness, inhibition, apprehension, hesitation… altogether?

He looked at me once, said ‘He was a good man’.  He retraced his steps, reopened the doorknob, this time I didn’t miss the distinct sound of the turning knob… and he went back inside the hall.

My questions… I’ll take them to my grave, unanswered. Unlike Amudha.  

I usually stay clear from these ‘intellectual’ discussions and movie views and reviews but since everyone has something or the other to say about this movie, I thought I’d also voice out what I have to say about Indian filmdom’s latest sensation- Slumdog Millionaire. I just have a few questions to ask!

Why’s it that the protagonist is a Muslim in Slumdog Millionaire while his Q and A counterpart is Ram Mohammad Thomas? Politically correct reasons??? Q and A, for the uninitiated, is the book by Vikas Swarup, upon which the movie is based. Jamal Malik draws a lot more audience than Ram, huh? I am yet to read the book, once am done with the book, I’ll talk about the rest of the deviations.

More than once, while watching the movie, I wanted to make a beeline to the Exit door and probably would have, had it not been for the:
1) Hype- I just wanted to know what made this movie garner such rave reviews and brickbats at the same time.
2) I had paid an arm and a leg for the fancy ticket and hence stayed back until the last reel in the credits section rolled out!
3) My movie watching gang would have written me off as a snob had I left the theatre midway through the show.

The s*it scene where the kid Jamal trudges through you-know-what to meet his demigod Amitabh Bhacchan was in REAL bad taste. Mind you, am no sissy and I didn’t feel bile rising to my throat when Andy Dufreyne did the same in Shawshank Redemption. But this scene from Slumdog almost made me puke!

Movie buffs at home say Pather Panchali, Satyajit Ray’s masterpiece capitalized on poverty and made it to great heights thanks to that- romancing with poverty and misery. Slumdog falls in the same cadre. Onscreen poverty brings in a lot of ticket collections, I guess! Irony at its poetic best!!!! ( now, I haven’t watched PP and don’t argue about that with me)

I know flesh trade, sex rackets, blinding innocent kids and making beggars out of them are not uncommon in the slums of any metro city BUT watching ALL of it on screen in a single movie is revolting.

Hasn’t Rahman come up with better scores than this? If this is worth 3 Oscar nominations, am just thinking what his other, better compositions are worth. Music was good but they needn’t have maligned the last piece with that ridiculous dance!!!!

Initially, I thought Jamal Malik was another Gail Wynand- Settril udhittha senthaamarai kind. Gail Wynand, from Ayn Rand’s Fountainhead is a man from the slums, who learnt despite being a gangster in the streets of New York. There’s one particular incident in the book where an interviewer, seeing Wynand straight out of the slums asks him ‘Can you spell CAT?’ to which Wynand shoots back, ‘Can you spell anthropomorphology?’
Well, Malik is no Wynand, alas. Luck favours him- Like all other Bollywood rags-to-riches heroes.

What next can we expect out of you, Mr. Boyle, software biggies cutting down jobs and EMI lapses??? Suicides because of Share Market crashes? Now, THAT is a very realistic Indian scenario. Noone’s ever giong to bash you for that! Or putting up with Ram Sena, Shiv Sena, fatwas and calling ourselves a free, secular country.

My friend was assigned the task of researching on the origin of the game Chris-mom-Chris-child and letting the team know of the story, as a task, by her Chris parent! We decided to fake it, because no amount of Googling gave us the answer we required.

Hence folks, I have let my karpanai loose, presenting THE story behind the Yuletide game Chris mom, Chris child-

Once upon a time, long ago, so long ago that no one knew how long ago, there was Lord Krishna in the banks of Yamuna.
His birth was shrouded in mystery- he had 2 sets of parents - biological and foster! As expected, there was a major custody battle that ensued between them!
Initially, the world was made to believe that he belonged to the Yadava clan and that he had nothing to do with Devaki, Vasudev and Kamsa. Yasodha and Nanda, his foster parents were extremely possessive and made sure they made the whole town of Gokula address them Krishna- Ma, Krishna- Pa!
This story was however not swallowed by the jealous biological parents Vasudev and Devaki!
Hence, they went to much lengths, canvassing that they were the real Krishna-Ma’s and Krishna-Pa’s.
It reached the banks of Brahmaputra, present day Bengal. As you all know, Bengalis choose to ignore the ‘h’ in ’sh’ and their OCD with the letter O. Hence, it became ‘Krisno- Mo’, Krisno-Po’. Later, the monosyllable ‘Na’ was intentionally left out by Vasudev and Devaki because it rhymed with Nanda!
It was during Krishna’s lifetime that the Mahabharat war occurred and you know how a war accelerate the growth of trends, fads and vocabulary. The General Purpose vehicle was shortened during the WW to GP and now it’s called a jeep! Well, coming again to our story, the story lent a different dimension to the society. The masses did not really understand the crux of the issue and thought it was cool to be called Kris-Ma and Kris-Pa. It was deemed everyone’s birthright to be called Kris-Ma and Kris-Pa! They even wore badges which proudly claimed Kris-Ma and Kris-Pa. Days went on, the war was over and yet they carried on the tradition. Then came the Christian missionaries, to the south of India. The story and the tag, meanwhile had reached the south of the Vindyas too. St.Thomas and the rest of his clan made sure that this masala was added in the new religion they preached. They found that this attracted quite a few followers who had earlier not been conferred the title! Like spice and stories about Indian snake charmers and magic, this story went back to the Occidental world along with the vessels that left the Marina. ( I don’t know what the Marina was called, back then)
And hence, like the terms kharma, Boston ‘Brahmins’, navigathaha becoming navigation, kattumaram becoming catamaran and molagaa thanni rasam becoming Mulligathawny soup, Kris Ma and Kris Pa were also anglicised and became Chris- Ma and Chris-Pa in the western world! Since it rhymed with Christ, the Church deemed it suitable to be included in the Christian religion.
The Yuletide season’s one time where anything marketed rightly, becomes a BIIIIG success. Hence, Chris Ma and Chris Pa were caught by the marketing industry. It’s put to immense use in this time!

P.S- there’s also this alternate theory: Krishna was a playboy and the game is one sure shot to get to know women better- by assigning atasks anonymously and gifting them stuff!! Hence, it might have been a game formulated by Krishna himself
- Professor Deepa Shankar,
Department of Religious Semiotics, Vetti University!
P.S- I mean no offense to any religion! If you want to sue me for anything, dishkooom, naa idha ezhudhala, idhepdi?