@#$&@!!!!

"Nee Marylin Monroe Cloning a, 

ille Jennifer Lopez scanning a?

One day mattum girlfriend aaga variya?"

Elders keep telling us. And used to keep telling us, that songs were a lot more beautiful and a lot more meaningful in their days. And I used to brush them off thinking they were just being menopausal. But look at this.. Its just rubbish. Most of the songs these days are. And they are the most popular ones. Nakka Mukka. What the @#$% is that? Its the worst thing I've ever heard! Not just the worst tamil song, but the worst song, hands down! And look, for a comparison, not so many years back..when i was 10-11 years old:

"Narumugaiye, Narumugaiye, Nee oru naaligai nillai,

 Sengani ooriya vai thirandhu, nee oru thirumozhi sollai

 Attrai Thingal Annilavil, Nettritharala Neer Vadiya

 Kottrapoigai aadiyaval neeya?"

and more recently, with less obtuse tamizh:

"Kilayil kaanum kiliyin mooku

 Vidalai pennin vettrilai naaku

 Putham puthidhaai ratha roja 

 Bhoomi thodaa(dha) pillayin padham"

Now I'm sorry, but progress is just taking us backward these days. Our kids will soon be dancing to static and random words threaded together. However, the same can't be said of music, a few music directors still come out with music that's very fresh and listenable to. Unfortunately, few and far apart. But inspiring, nonetheless. A few men, to reassure us that all is not lost. 

"...If they ever tell my story let them say that I walked with giants. Men rise and fall like the winter wheat, but these names will never die. Let them say I lived in the time of AR Rahman, tamer of carnatic ragas. Let them say I lived in the time of Mani Ratnam.." -  Troy(Slightly modified though)

As for the others, they get the golden cock award. 

I wish I could stay longer, but I've an exam to study for. Toodle-oo! 

Scrambled Eggs

From yesterday, I've been in a rather nostalgic mood. Watching old ads such as "I'm a complan boy!" and "Sottu Neelam doi" and "Hamaaara bajaj" and "Vicco turmeric! Ille cosmetic! Vicco turmeric ayurvedic cream!" and stuff. 

Everbody, I think, has something nice to think back, to talk about the times that they grew up in. And maybe they all think they're lucky. No exception here. Not only do I think that I was lucky to be born at the decade, but at that specific year. Nice times. 

Remembered.. Premier Padmini's, and Ambassadors and Maruti's... thats all there were. And it was an awesome time. And Tata sierras were uber-cool. They had motorized windows! TVs didnt stick to the wall, and the longer they were, the more successful you were in society. Panner soda and rasna. Baskin Robbins? Haagen dasz? Paal ice. Which one thatha would buy for us and tell us not to tell the other thatha cos he wasn't convinced of their hygiene. 

An awesome, awesome feeling, when Champak or Tinkle digest or Tinkle came. Growing up with grandparents in the house, both of whom loved to read, and extremely aware. Growing up watching He-man, Alif Laila, Jungle Book and Pingu..How many people came to visit my grandparents and I was introduced to them, a small boy in a singlet and shorts, combed hair and vibhoothi. Outings with parents, where all three of us could sit in line in front of the car.

Route No 2A, 2B: Some memorable friendships.. on school vans. Two parts of the school van.. Those who got to sit in front were the creme de la creme. The people in the back were the also rans. I sat up front. Right on the engine cover, between the driver anna and the passenger seat. ON the engine cover, and performed gear-changing and engine-starting duties. Ultimate privelege. Periyasamy, the driver's name was... still works there I think. His meesai's become all white though.. from all black. And the loyalty we had to our vans and our driver annas. Racing with other van numbers... and screaming when we won, and booing the other vans. 

Growing up on a diet of purely carnatic music. And then listening to AR Rahman for the first time. On a trip with friends of my cousin's family. "Hello Mister Edhirkatchi". They had two daughters, and the younger one wore shockingly short shorts and shades. She laughed at every joke I made, and was what I thought, very carefree. Open hair, and very very fair. Like one of those cinema heroines. High point in that day was getting photographed next to her or something like that. Quite a lot older, but I think my first crush, before I became a lot more aware and my "Girls are a bother" phase came on and nipped things in the bud. She's got married recently, and I couldnt even make it to her wedding. Someone told me she was asking why I wasn't there. 

Arranged marriages were non-existent to me. I assumed my parents also married after meeting and singing duet songs like in the movies. 

Being lazy, and asking for things without feeling guilty for asking older people to do something you can get done with a lot less difficulty. Maybe all the older people were younger and healthier at that time. In fact, I remember, anybody(even distant family) who came to see me, would take me down first main road for a walk, and buy me toys or sweets. Throwing temper tantrums and getting stuff done. Always being the pampered one. Thatha saying I, and not someone else, was his favorite grandson. I liked how people loved my being able to have something to say about everything. Now when i meet some cousins who do that, I just find it irritating. 

My childhood was awesome. The nineties were an awesome time. I'm generation yex. (As in yex, oye and izad)

God Bless Pramod Muthalik

Remember him? He's the chap who clubbed some women in a (night)club in Bangalore, for, well, clubbing. And now he is raking in the benefits. Not of this particular action, mind, but for his next statement. Threatening to marry off couples who are seen spending some "together" time in public on Valentine's day. 

This has caused an uproar, but not quite of the kind that you'll expect. Boyfriends and girlfriends from out of town are uniting to meet on Valentine's day in public. And to get noticed. By Muthalik's "Sena". Tired of their parents' opposition to their being together. And being impecunious, as indeed we all are at this age, they turn to Muthalik Mama to bear the costs of eloping. Nothing like a benevolent old uncle to indulge in the little excesses of youth. 

Mama, although can be quite irritating at times, saying Ram's name and making rubbish public statements and action plans, and his violence is not going to preserve any "culture" by any means. In fact, far from it, it has resulted in a resurgent "pink cheddi" campaign, wherein women send in their pink underwear to Muthalik to protest against his actions. That, is where Indian women stand. Now by doing that, they are just promoting themselves as "pieces of arse" which is pretty much Muthalik's stand on this nonsense. They are accusing the Ram Sene of molesting them, and then they voluntarily send their underwear. They are showing the world(and Muthalik) that they have nothing better to represent themselves other than their panties. And this mentality, this inability to think at a higher level, is what prevents women of India from being taken seriously. That's just petty. And they will be too slow to realize this, like the women who burnt bras in the olden days, not realizing that they were worn to prevent their breasts from falling victim to gravity. And the women who kept their bras on then, walk proudly now. Stand straight. 

And all the while, Mama had no clue what a "vengayam" of a plan he's come up with. Dear old mama. Snigger snigger. 

Ambiguously Titled..

Indeed, life is immensely complex. An equation.. with infinite variables. All sorts of variations.. the combinations one can create.. the situations one can create..mind boggling choice.

Mind boggling choice though.. not for people IN, or living, life. For the universe... to mess with the people who live in it.. yes. 

A series of hill climb challenges. Say, a racing challenge, even. Highly dangerous.. people expect me to be scared of the thought "Will I return after this race?"

And yet... what scares me more is "Will you be there when I return from this hill?" Once I am started on the way up, nothing disturbs me anymore. I won't hear of you or think of you until I'm back, and the thought that you might not be there when I'm back is disturbing. 

In a way, the sense of not being completely in control is scary. Being brought up hearing "You are in charge of your life" and then along comes something called "luck". Some people have it, some don't. Not in their control, either. Your hard work might be rewarded. Parthasarathy-next-door's sloth might be rewarded more. 

And yet.. We live life. We work as hard as we can. We make sacrifices, for work, for relationships. All in the belief that life will be same tomorrow. And we can't let the otherwise scare us into not doing anything at all, because then life would be a waste. We believe 99 out of 100 times, it'll be all good. 1 out of 100, life gives you a bum deal.. Sometimes destroys you, sometimes strengthens you. Depends on each person's mental makeup. One more factor.. 

Life is a game. Hah. If that were true, given a choice, nobody with anything to lose would play it. Although.. if you don't play the game, you don't have anything at all. In other words, nothing to lose. And you might as well play. 

One hopes one comes out of life with a net gain. I am now on reserve battery power. Mentally and notebook-ally. That'll be all. 

Couldnt Resist...

She was a first generation IT worker in her family. Her father ran a flourishing gas agency, and her mother stayed at home with Tughlak and Kalki for company. She loved her job, and the exposure it gave her. She was forever conscious of the fact that her parents were invariably thinking of marrying her off, and she was always looking out for a guy that she could pick out on her own to prevent her parents from marrying her off to someone. And she'd spotted someone, working in the same IT complex, albeit for a different company. He was smart, and had a great smile, like the chap in the Bru advertisements(Idhu Bru ma!). He had a nice way of walking that she always imitated and laughed about it to herself. She'd never had the courage to talk to him, though. Everyday, she dreamt of talking and laughing with him, when he was driving her back, instead of her dreary share-auto, and then, bus-ride back home. But she could never quite get those words, conscious of her new-found talent in the English language "Could you drop me off, please?" She'd made up her mind today though. Enough was enough, and that promiscuous girl from the food court was already talking him up. "And Look at him, grinning back, the idiot" she thought to herself, gritting her teeth, as she mustered up the courage to walk up to him. Five steps, four, three, two.. She could smell him now. Here was where he stylishly put his hands inside his pocket and unlocked his car from afar. He turned, conscious of someone close by, and there was that smile, although she didnt notice that. Her eyes were on the egg shaped, brightly coloured car car that was flashing its lights, and chirping, glad to welcome its proud owner. On the inclined "H" within the oval on the front grill. She felt her eyes darken and momentarily lost her balance, holding on to a post nearby. Then her eyes focused on the questioning, smiling, handsome face again. 

"Which bus to Anakaputhur, please?"