Catch-22

Our first conversation...

2007-10-14T21:02:00.001-07:00

I was holding onto the plastic chair. She was walking over from near the bell. I knew I wanted to talk to her. I didn't want to start off with anything phony. I had no other reason for talking to her, except that I really wanted to talk to her. I was half an ass off the chair, certain I would make an ass of myself. Then as she and her friends were about to pass by me, I got up with a jerk, and must have scared her when I jumped into the line she walked on and said,
"Hi (her name)!"
She stops. I was cold. She was cool. But I say,
"I wanted to talk to you."
I smile a stupid smile, which, I must say, did little to hide the fact that I was turning red despite my skin. Meanwhile, no reply from her, except a slight shake of the head, granting me permission to proceed.
I try again. I state the obvious.
"I know this seems stupid."
Poor delivery again. I'm losing points here. I still have the forced stupid smile on my face.
I go again.
"How do I start talking with you?"
That was clever, I think, but I screwed it in delivery. My confidence does not exist.
But then she speaks for the first time. She says,
"Hi! I'm (her name)!"
I am happy. But, that doesn't mean I warmed to the situation.
"Hi! I'm Neil!"
Acknowledgment from her in the most discreet of nods.
My brain is scanning for clever ideas to prevent a still born conversation. I don't get any. Realisation strikes, that this is where this conversation has to end.
I conclude.
"I don't think this is working. I'll try again tomorrow!"
I give my trademark two thumbs up and scram to the safety of the plastic chair. I collapse onto it, and sit bent over, covering my face.

Did I not screw it up?

The Urge for Female Company

2007-10-03T02:22:00.000-07:00

"Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?"

I didn't say that. Joel from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind said for me something that I've always felt. That's my sorry state. I've been falling in love with all sorts of women and girls and the sad part is I never could find myself comfortably talking to them. I've been living for nearly 23 years now and the total time I have spent talking with girls other than somebody related to me, is probably an hour in a long life. That too, most of it was 'do you know where somebody is' or 'can you hold my computer while I'm gone' kind of stuff. Never a single interesting conversation. And I'm a lesser person for that!

I have other problems too and like my friends say, I must be stupid prioritising this problem at such a crucial point in my life. But then, only I know how much this affects me. I might get a job after all, but this is a problem I need to solve once and for all. It's about my internal harmony.

"If only I could meet someone new. I guess my chances of that happening are somewhat diminished, seeing that I'm incapable of making eye contact with a woman I don't know."

That's Joel again and that's the bigger problem. My case is probably a bit more aggravated than Joel's. I'm incapable of making eye contact with even women I know. While hanging out with friends, if one of their girfriends come over, I find my eyes automatically searching for a nice piece of plaster on the wall opposite to where the girl is standing. And I'll be mute for just as much time as the girl is around, answering mostly in single syllables when questions are directed towards me. This is an uneasiness I chose to avoid and I find myself preferring to being alone in the computer lab, rather than be with friends and risk one of their girlfriends walking over.
This is just a small part of my problem. It affects me in every walk of my public life. In private, I'm even more affected by the sheer mystery of the pleasure that talking to a girl would be. Often I feel the urge to sit next to a girl. I feel the urge to talk to a girl. This defines a good percentage of the depressions that overcome me these days.

I fantasize stopping in the corridor one of the new juniors in college, and simply trying to strike a conversation with any of them. I probably have someone in mind too. But knowing me, I'll in all probability drop this plan, like all the other plans I've dropped before this. God help me!

I know I am painting a sorry picture. But this is the kind of truths that I wanna shout out. If I can't do this here, then I don't know what use my blog is to me.

glorious failure...

2007-10-02T01:30:00.000-07:00

Is there glory in failure?

I thought I'd write a coming of age novel about how great a person I am. That was the flaw. I didn't write what I should've written. I tried putting in words the image of me that others have. I recognise the greatness of art, now better than ever. I see the reason why it becomes great art. It is about truth and brutal honesty. It is about pouring out the darkest corners of your mind and the fuzzy picture that is formed of the dark and the bright parts of your mind... that that gets to be art. I haven't grown enough as a person to really own up all the things that goes on in my head. I am toiling towards such a time. When that time comes, I'll be released!

My failure to write the novel is a shame for me. Especially after seeking publicity for it through this blog and other means. That was a phony bit in me. There are subtle hints of it left. Or maybe it is big chunks after all and it is my reluctance to admit it. The fact that I'm writing this may hint towards some of it. But, I feel this has to be the way it is done. A conscious attempt towards purifying yourself of all phoniness.

My life took the downward spiral ever since I got obsessed with getting rid of the phoniness in me. I won't say I am better off now, that I did this. But I know if I hold on, redemption is just round the corner.

It is impossible to say just what I mean! - T.S. Elliot

The 'Lagey Raho Munna Bhai' Review

2006-08-31T23:23:00.000-07:00

Coming Soon...

Till then, if you can take my word for it... GO WATCH IT!

A thoroughly enjoyable movie, as good as the first one, entertaining full length, with excellent songs, great performances from Sanjay Dutt, Arshad Warsi and Boman Irani, with an unexpected guest appearance by 'u-find-it-out', a beautiful heroine, Vidya Balan, top it all with a great life-moral like the earlier movie, and more of all the things that you loved the first movie for...

Padayatty Rating: 5 stars out of 5

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Tagged on Technorati as Catch-22, Lage Raho Munna Bhai, Munna Bhai MBBS, Munna Bhai, Sanjay Dutt, Arshad Warsi, Boman Irani.

Talking New Year Resolution Blues…

2006-02-28T23:51:00.001-08:00

Mine was always to be a good boy. I wanted to brush my teeth and bathe everyday, comb my hair and wear well-ironed clothes, get to college on time and not sleep in class, sit in the library and have some AIR, eat Pillai Uncle’s food three times a day and avoid the Canteen, talk cool with girls, make them laugh and then maybe find myself a partner and roam with her the way so many pairs in HNLU do. I wanted to wear my jeans below my buttocks, be real cool, build some muscles and dance at parties. I wanted to ask long doubts in class, submit projects on time, give moot courts, attend snap tests and finally be an 8 point something.
That was a tall order. But my rock hard will told me I could do it. That was the 31st December, any year since I came to HNLU. Come New Year’s Day and I would take an exception, because excessive partying on the previous night left me with too much of a hangover to put into action any of mine resolutions. Jan 2nd was to be the shubh avsar for starting with my New Year Resolutions. Too much sleep the previous day meant I couldn’t sleep any that night and it was morning before I finally slept. No worry, there’s a whole year ahead. My lucky number the next day – Jan 3rd, I wake up early morning and go for a jog. I’d read somewhere that jogging early in the morning, makes one healthy, wealthy and wise. That was convenient. All the things I wanted to be, in one package. I find out that January is not the best time in the year to go for a jog. It’s bloody cold any morning. I come back with a horrible cold and slight temperature that renders me invalid for the next few days. It’s time for some compromise. Compromise is acceptable as long as the ultimate goal of becoming a good boy is not compromised. This jogging early morning thing does more harm than good to the good boy.
Having thus resolved the first threat to the resolutions, I concentrate the weight of my solid will towards the others and find myself awake at 8:00am on a very cold mid-January day. There’s a fight going on in the room. Everybody wants to bathe first and that too in hot water. Obscenities flit around my ear, and it hurts me to see my friends fighting. I decide I had no reason to put in a bad word, and resolve to wait till everyone has bathed, and in the meanwhile get some sleep also. You see, at 10 minutes each for my six roommates, I had at least an hour.
I wake with a start and look around to find a time-piece showing 11:30. Tomorrow… I told myself. There’s always tomorrow. I bathed in the night that day so that I wouldn’t have to bathe in the morning. That worked out fine. I got to college on time for Prof. Ajappa’s class. The class was jurisprudence and we were trying to nail the term onto a wall for clarity. But jurisprudence was one slippery term, which deftly avoided any definition leaving a trail of unsuccessful philosophers in its wake. I dozed off. Jairam’s bell woke me up, just as the venerable professor concluded his quest declaring that jurisprudence could not be defined.
Then came the days when there were no classes at all. That was cruel, I tell you. God knows how hard it was to sleep after a bath in the night when everybody else is watching some colored movie and then to wake up early morning, brush your teeth, comb your hair and catch the bus before it disappeared in a cloud of dust and then to fight the soft seductions of the computer lab and actually get to class just as your roll number was being called, only to get involved in a losing battle with my old friend, sleep. After all this when you have no class it kills your spirit. Mine was only too willing to die. Sometimes there was class only in the 3rd hour and my dying spirit couldn’t bear waiting for that hour to come. I trashed them resolutions sometime February.

That’s the sad tale of how I ended up not bathing, brushing, combing or ironing any day. That’s how I never did get to college on time, slept when I got there and missed my snap tests and adjourned infinitely my moot court appearances and was well shy of 8 point by the time the year ended. I have explanations for the other failures too. I never got to the library because whenever I went there everybody would stare at me in amazement, their eyes enquiring whether I had not missed the earlier turn to the computer lab. I never got about talking with any girls in the first place, to even think about the happily ever after. About Pillai Uncle’s food… I’m sure I’m not the only failure.
All you folks must be thinking what a dirty, lazy, pessimistic fellow this guy is. For you I’ll tell you, I did achieve some success. I successfully avoided the canteen, thanks to a four-figure against my name on the door. I don’t visit that part of the University anymore. Anyway, this year I’ve optimized my Resolutions and decided to start last week of December so that I’ll be well settled in time for New Year. Then I’ll do all those things I said I’d do and tell you all good folks about it next year. I’ll need your prayers! Happy New Year!

P.S. I wrote this one for the New Year Resolution Competition at HNLU. They didn't give away any prizes because there were only two participants. Tough luck!

Neena's Tourism Blues

2006-02-12T05:26:00.000-08:00

Neena has sent this article to the guys at The Hindu, for publication in their Open Page section. In the meanwhile, I told myself, my page is also just as open, then why not put it up here also. Moreover, there's a whole lot of bloggers from Karnataka, who just might see this one, and knowing the power blogs have, it might all be for good. So, here's what Neena has to say...

Tourism Blues

“Adhiti devo bhava” the epigram in which lies the heritage of every Indian. However the experience of a group of college students from God’s own country during their visit to the neighbouring state raises a question and becomes a blackmark in a country where guests are considered equivalent to gods. This article is to bring to public notice a few grave matters that needs to be addressed. A pleasure trip to Karnataka; but more that the hi-fi ness of Bangalore and the colour of the Brindavans ,a few singular encounters with the police,the security guards at the Brindavan gardens and the many Adams everywhere comes to the mind.
It was a dream come true for many when they set out for a five day trip to Bangalore,Mysore and Ooty.First stop Bangalore, metropolitan and modern in every sense.They stopped at a petrol bunk when a plainclothes policeman(haughtily flaunting his ID)boarded the bus.He started asking questions directly to a girl student as to who they were and the purpose of the excursion.His motive was evident when he left,all smiles,once he was given a hundred rupee note.
The next incident was when they were walking back to their hotel that night,weary from shopping and loaded with bags when a policeman amused himself by calling them’beggars’.Throughout the shopping trip most girls had encounters with ‘gentlemen’ who couldn’t walk by them without knocking onto them or passing off colour comments.
Truly bizarre was the experience at the Brindavan Gardens..The dimly lit park was very crowded owing to the second saturday and Pongal holiday.As the girls walked ,with the boys of the group forming a circle around them for protection,catcalls and obscenities floated towards their ears. Then ,when one of the boys accidentally stepped into a fountain,a security guard without even a verbal warning, struck him with a metal lathi.
The tour conductor who demanded an explanation got his reply with a blow,dodging which he fell down.Two security guards ,grinning mischievously ,attacked him with their lathis. The rest of the boys rushed to his aid when a few more guards materialized and started swinging their lathis at them.The girls watched horrified and by the time the guards came to their senses most of the boys had red welts on different parts of their bodies.Next the guards threatened to file a case against the dazed students,for fighting with them.It was only after pleading with them that they were allowed to go.One of the boys received a whack on the knee even as they were leaving.
The excursion party was too rattled and frightened that they did not even dare to lodge a complaint. Contemplating the complicated legal procedures most of them consoled themselves that things couldnt have been worse. The language bar was another factor. It was heartening that none of the other tourist who had witnessed the incident came forward to intervene.
If this is how tourists are treated then I don’t see any future for places like the Brindavans. In a public place where an entry fee is exacted this should not be the staff’s mode of conduct.Lathi charging is something used against an aggressive mob after sufficient warnings.Then where did these security guards get the right to assault tourists or anyone, for that matter? If they are so duty conscious then how come the place still teems with eve teasers and antisocial elements? How can one approach the police when they are also out to exploit naive tourists? To be caught in a legal imbroglio in a strange land will be last thing anyone would want. I am sure this is not an isolated incident. If this is how tourists from the neighbouring state is treated then God help those from faraway places.Mine is an open appeal to anyone who can change this situation. I hope there will be a day soon when one can listen to the colourful bustle of shoppers rather than off colour comments, when girls can walk the busy streets without feeling insecure and when one can enjoy a beautiful evening in the Garden city without fearing a lathi charge.

- Neena Padayatty.

Comments are to flow freely on this one, especially from the Karnataka blogging fraternity. Neena will post her replies to comments on the comments section. And, I hope The Hindu, does publish this well written article.

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Tagged on Technorati as Catch-22, Neena Padayatty, Bangalore, Brindavan Gardens, Karnataka, Karnataka Tourism, Open Page.

Me and A Generation Awakens for Rang De Basanti

2006-01-25T20:44:00.000-08:00

Just back from the First Day First Show of 'Rang De Basanti'. You know the 5:30am show, that's the only good thing about Raipur. After the Mangal Pandey, it was a near empty first show for Aamir Khan's 'Rang De Basanti'. Sherin, Sandeep and I, had a whole row of seats to ourselves and the row just in front to rest our legs. A cold morning at the Anand Talkies, with none of the festivities associated with the release of an Aamir Khan movie. But here's my review...

Story
Sue (Alice Patten), an English film-maker, inspired by her grandfather's experience as jailer to the great Indian Revolutionaries like Bhagat Singh and Chandrashekhar Azad, wants to make a documentary on the great Indian revolutionaries. But the story being too alien to her British financiers, she's not provided funds.
Sue, however, decides to go ahead and make the film. She reaches India, where her friend Sonia (Soha Ali Khan), and her friends, all students of DU, agree to act as the revolutionaries for the documentary. The carefree bunch, representing our generation, till then has been doing nothing more than partying every night, racing their bikes and being indifferent to a reality they were required to awaken to. They, with a bit of egging by Sue and Sonia, finally get into the groove for acting out the great revolutionaries. Before I go further, let me introduce the group.
DJ (Aamir Khan), though it is 5 years since he passed out from college, still hangs around because he feels at ease there. A swell guy, he's the life of the partying friends.
Aslam (Kunal Kapoor) is a poor boy, who finds his heart in this group of uncertain souls living life by the moment.
Sukhi (Sharman joshi) is the fun guy, always joking, and making everybody laugh.
Karan (Sidharth of Boys, Aayudha Ezhuthu fame), is a rich kid, who shares an uneasy relationship with his unscrupulous businessman of a father (Anupam Kher).
Ajay (Madhavan in an important guest role) is Sonia's lover and an Air Force Pilot, whom everybody in the group adores.
Laxman Pandey (Atul Kulkarni), is a saffron idealogue, with a growing reputation within the party in power, whose relationship with the rest of the group, though at loggerheads, takes a turn for good, once he too becomes part of the documentary crew.

Except Ajay, Laxman, and Sonia, the rest of the guys, are disillusioned with India, with no hope for it's future. They don't do anything about it other than making cynical comments about all things Indian, and dreaming of leaving India as soon as their education gets over. But once, they are initiated into the documentary, they transform taking inspiration from the characters of the revolutionaries they play in the documentary.

Imbibing the spirit of Bhagat Singh, Chandrashekhar Azad and the likes, they slowly awaken from the cynical slumber they'd been in so far. It is at this point that Ajay dies in a MiG crash. The Defence Minister, puts the blame on Ajay's adventurous flying, and shirks his responsibility for the faulty MiGs. The whole bunch and Ajay's mother, decide to protest the injustice done to Ajay's name and many other soldiers who have laid their lives for the nation. The government orders the peaceful candle-bearing protestors to be lathi charged. This is the turning point for the group. It'd be a spoiler if I go any further. Because I want you all to watch this movie.

Review
The acting performaces are all great. Aamir is his usual best. The rest of the crew all do their part to convince us of how they're just youth like the rest of us, taking all things lightly, not giving serious thought to their realities and quite sure that they couldn't do anything to change things. But I'd make special mention of Sidharth in his role as Karan, the rich-boy detatched, who really steals the show. He outshines even Aamir. It seems he's the hero, if you need me to pin point one. He's done a convincing portrayal of a troubled young man, who doesn't have much hope for anything, until the last moment when he realises what his role is. Soha Ali Khan's performance is quite surprising after her previous film role. Alice Patten, must really be congratulated for her good Hindi, and of course, good acting. Kunal Kapoor with his mild-mannered look and Sharman Joshi, comedian, are also good. Atul Kulkarni, as can be expected is class.

I'm sorry for all those souls who didn't awaken with me when the genration awoke this morning. This movie is a must watch. It's a film with a message though. Where Mani Ratnam with his Yuva failed, Rakesh Mehra, has come trumps with this truly landmark film. The direction is superb and the story truly unique. The screenplay is great, in that it effectively weaves together different themes including, today's indifferent youth who do not care if their nation goes to the dogs, the revolutionaries of the Independence movement, the corruption in politics and how the youth can change things if they did their bit. The switching between the Bhagat Singh story and the present story, to convey the similarities of the eras is successfully done.

One remembers the Bhagat Singh overkill of movies a few years back. All those movies told the stories of the revolutionaries. But they were fairy tales which had no relation to the contemporary youth or India. Their stories were unique to their time. So we thought after seeing those movies. I even used to fancy how it would have been nice if we could be in that generation and have fought like Bhagat Singh did. But I never imagined that a revolution was possible in this era, when we were being ruled by our own elected representatives. But this film shows how the situation is no different, though the players have changed.

Of special mention is an exceptional sequence where, the Jallianwala Masacre is shown, and suddenly General Dwyer, the infamous villain, is replaced by the guilty Defence Minister, who orders the police force to fire at Ajay, the fighter pilot is shown walking towards the firing policemen, smiling, and when he gets hit, says something about his jacket getting torn. That's a satirical look at how things haven't changed. A classic sequence indeed.

Having watched the film one realises, that the revolutionary spirit, that is the legacy of our Independece movement, still lives in the youth, and that it only needs to be awakened for the face of India to be changed.

Padayatty Rating: 5 stars out of 5

Well, what are you waiting for? Go watch 'Rang De Basanti'! Be A Rebel!!!

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Tagged on Technorati as Catch-22, Neil Stephen Padayatty, Neil Padayatty, Padayatty, Rang De Basanti, Aamir Khan, Padayatty Rating.

Thank the Chicken-pox!

2005-10-25T00:55:00.000-07:00

Well, the best omen in a long time. There's been a chicken pox out break in HNLU, causing the administration to shut down college for one month. That means no exams till December, and that I'll be home in Trivandrum for the whole of November, writing my novel, eating the good food Mummy makes, and going to Elloor Lending Library to get all the inspiration needed for painting my masterpiece! The whole world conspiring to help me achieve my objective. Three Cheers! I don't think I'll be blogging any during November! Pray for me! The next thing you might hear about me might be some news item about my book release!

NaNoWriMo Time!

2005-10-10T06:22:00.000-07:00

The situation here at HNLU grows worse by the day. Agreed, there's only about 21/2 years left. But, then I'm only afraid I might burn out before that. To prevent that, I suppose, I'll have to complete my novel, and hide away in some cave or forest, after my first royalty cheque comes through! And guys, you know what, this is the best time to write a novel. Because NaNoWriMo is just around the corner!

NaNoWriMo is the acronym for NAtional NOvel WRIting MOnth, when anyone who successfully writes a quantity-oriented 50,000 word novel is a winner. When first started in July 1999 by the illustrious Chris Baty(who's that), the number of participants then was just 21, of which just 6 ended up finishing their novels. In the next 6 years, the number of participants grew to a whopping 42,000 in the year 2004, with the organizers expecting an estimate of 60,000 participants this time around. A few guys, who participated even got their books published. Check here, if you need to see to believe!

So, I'd signed up last year, but my novel ended up a non-starter owing to end-semester examinations. But this time around, I'm not giving a damn to the end-semester exams. I'M WRITING MY NOVEL! Sure, all of you will get discounted copies. I promise. But why don't you guys, give it a try. I'll make it a tag even. So to anybody who reads this, this is a tag!

Here's more information for those interested...

NaNoWriMo History!
How NaNoWriMo works!

So, sign yourself up and come November, it's 30 days of pecking away at your keyboards for what could be a true turning point!
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Tagged on Technorati as Catch-22, Neil Stephen Padayatty, Neil Padayatty, Padayatty, National Novel Wrting Month, NaNoWriMo, Chris Baty.

Happy Birthday 'Catch-22'

2005-10-01T04:29:00.000-07:00

Well me... I put, all of me in a blog... Catch-22!
It's now one year since I began blogging. And I'm thankful for whatever it has done for me!

Started on the particularly Catch-22 evening of 9.29.2004, inspired by Anurag and Vishnu, and a few other blogspots. Catch-22... because I was caught in one involving friends at that time and because the book itself has had tremendous influence in my life philosophy.

***
I had told all my friends at HNLU about my new endeavour. But it was my good friend Marcus Jose Arikupuram, who dropped me the first ever comment on my blog, on my Tribute to Friendship poem. It was something to go by.

"hi padayatty,i was really amazed when i read the poem,i never thougth that you will do such a big adventure.anyway you really done a great work,keep going...i find a great future in you ....ALL THE VERY BEST MY DEAR PADAYATTY....."

Thank you, Marcus!

***
I go through a phase where I'm no able to connect with the people around me, and I feel dead lost! I get an email from a stranger, who said,

"Hello Neil...
I'm Stephanie (or some may call me Nyogen), I've come across your blog... or perhaps your blog found me! I enjoy your thoughts and your writing style, I find your blog compelling, yet refreshing. Even your book list is great, I should create my own, since I love great works of writing.So that's it, I just wanted to say hello, and introduce myself
-Stef"

Thanks nyogen, these words of yours... I'll treasure for ever!

***
Now truly into blogging, I start blog-hopping, reading about the interesting things in other people's lives. At that point of time, I was bent upon increasing the number of links to my blog, just for the sake of it and so that I could get a higher ranking in one of the many blog directories. I even dropped comments asking people to give reciprocal links.

But later I realised... that was stupid. Because, when I started blogging, it was, so that I could fill a great void, so that I could find people like me, so that I could realise I was no loner in the world of thoughts. But that, then, was not to be by the same diplomacies that one does in everyday life, for that would mean connecting with all sorts of phonies and being a phonie myself. That wouldn't fill any void. In fact that would create more voids, and the me would die out beind the facades of a virtual society.

***
I find a like minded. Rather a like-minded finds me. The gibberish queen, profound in all that she says, graces, by giving me my first link. Angeline's adding me on her blogroll, was special because she, a stranger, connected with me based only on what my blog reflected of me, which, I'd like to believe, is the true me. Thank you Angel... What you did was most profound, in that it made me believe in the real me.

***
Then on, I dropped any little phoniness that I had in blogworld, and dedicated myself to blogging honestly (with a pinch of salt, that is). It has been wonderful throughout, and I find myself growing in depth and belief in myself and all that I stand for. I find there are people willing to listen to this chaps, stories, cock and bull or whatever. I thank you, Catch-22 for this!

I would thank,
Anjali, whose comments have been my greatest inspiration...
Jiby chettan, who is an honest blogger and somebody I can relate to,
Sherin K. Daniel, who has been a motivating force in everything,
Neena, my sister for her expert comments on my writing,
TVM Vikings, whose memories make me,
and also everyone who's ever posted a comment on my blog (I'll try to make a list) and other people who have by whatever actions/ommissions have made a difference in my blog. I am grateful to all, for my Catch-22.

***
Stephanie Lynn said this to me,

"I believe it's very important for one to express themself as thoroughly as possible. To some, the understanding and knowledge of our own thoughts is an intricate element of enlightenment or simply seeing the 'big' picture. I've found that in our society, others will tend to find you interesting, compelling, intriguing, if you find yourself interesting. Now please eliminate any element of arrogance or greed, or modern tendencies of self-proclaimed success. In the simpliest, truest form. Perhaps, I should elaborate by adding, if you have a general interests in your thoughts, their development, and possibilities of their expansion - others will be drawn to these characteristics (that they may also possess or desire to possess)."

That's what I'll say to you, fellow bloggers. Wish Catch-22, long life!

Seven Padayatty Things!

2005-09-22T06:44:00.000-07:00

Anjali tagged me the Seven tag! Had trouble just collecting seven things for each heading, silverine tagged me! She suggested checking out, MatterofChoice and Jiby. Their's put me at ease. But, whatever I'm giving here is entirely mine. You got no phonie here! Well, here goes...

Seven things I plan to do before I die!!!
1. Finish writing my magnum opus about the things me and my friends did; about Loyola, about TVM-Vikings, about the best days of my life! (I've started already. Might take a long time in coming out. But, I prefer it that way. The experience is quite worth it.)
2. Make my movie, complete with story, screenplay, direction, camera, music by Padayatty. (tall order... I know! But I'll do it if its the last thing I do)
3. Fall in Love. (who me? yes, why not!)
4. Remain the way I am, because I'm convinced, that I am me!
5. Get back to and finally finish my violin lessons.
6. Well, my parents are my 'perfect fans', in that their belief in my mere mortal self's talents is unreasonably reasonless. But, the world outside might, and maybe do call them fools, for the way they've raised me. So I'll do for them, one thing that'll shut these nosy parkers forever. Give mine parents, a worldly reason to be proud of me!
7. Show this world, that the things I stood for, were never in vain!

Seven things you can do!!!
1. Write notices on the HNLU noticeboard which irk all of those establishment reps.
2. Play the violin. (a bit rusty, but sure can make a comeback)
3. Make friends happy.
4. Maintain at least, mail-once-a-month with friends and family, because though I care, I've never cared to show it.
5. Forgive, no matter what. (even phonies! They're the most easy to forgive; one understands their motivations).
6. Change some lives. (I believe I have, and will continue to do so)
7. Give everyone the respect they're entitled to. (I've got lots of it... So why not share it!)

Seven things you can't do!!!
1. Quit being the shy fellow I am.
2. Get organised.
3. Say no to a friend.
4. Talk cool with girls.
5. Forget the TVM Vikings.
6. Become first in anything.
7. Hurt Neena(my twin-sister)!

Seven things that attract you to the opposite sex!!!
1. Sense of humour, but not the 'giggling-girl' kind.
2. Ability to discuss books, movies, music with me in the same sense as I take it.
3. Sensitivity, but within limits (no fainting at the sight of blood, no 'cho chweet' attitude towards everything). I hate most Bollywood heroines.
4. Independence and respect for my independence.
5. Smartness, not necesarily the way everyone understands the word.
6. Lack of 'phony' characteristics, like exaggerated self-righteousness.
7. Love dear Padayatty, despite his many shortcomings.

(Someday, I'll write a post on each one of these!)

Seven things you say most!!!
1. Eeshoye...
2. Padayatty this and that!
3. I swear a lot. Me speaks a lot of bad words. Can't help it. No malice intended, though! (3 - 7)

Seven celebrity crushes!!!
1. Nicole Kidman.
2. Meera Jasmine.
(I don't think I'll say anymore. If you're asking crushes, most celebrities fit.)

Seven people you want to take this quiz!!!
1. Achuthan.
2. Angeline.
3. Ashok.
4. Jithu.
5. Madhvi.
6. Sandeep.
7. Vishnu.

And, Catch-22 might apply to all these things I've written. As I've said elsewhere, I might eat my words. Can't help it, it's my diet!

P.S. Well, angeline had given me two tags, one of which, the book tag, I've already answered. The other one, will be after you answer this one! How 'bout that!

Umesh gets the Fear of God!

2005-09-17T06:57:00.000-07:00

Varun took a turn for the spiritual, mid-way through our final year at school. Initially, we were all skeptical about the whole thing and regarded it as a mere passing fad. But, when Varun stopped coming to the movies and started delivering impromptu, unasked for sermons in between juicy gossips, we decided we’d been wrong.

Well, if Varun had left his spirituality at the prayer-hall, things would’ve been just fine. But, the dear fellow wanted the lot of us converted for good. He started inviting us to prayer-meetings and that made the rest of us run for cover. But how long can you hide from your best-friend, especially when God too is an interested party. Umesh was the first ‘victim’!

Umesh went to the prayer-meeting with Varun, on a Friday evening and…

It all started fine, I’d say. I walk into the hall, where a small crowd of people are on their feet singing a real spirited song, the keyboardist accompanying with fast-paced beats… real penetrating music. Next thing, the preacher starts clapping hands. Everybody joins in and seems to be getting rather excited. I get the general mood, and unconsciously start tapping my toe. Hey, this is actually cool! There’re even a few good-looking girls up-front! No wonder Varun...
The song died off and the preacher resumes his preacher-talk, with the mandatory Praise The Lord after every second word he says. The keyboardist starts playing a haunting (at least that’s the way I felt) background, when suddenly something happened to the preacher (at least that’s the way it seemed to me)! This man who’d been till that moment speaking, most coherent Malayalam, at an unbelievably supersonic pace, suddenly seemed to have lost his gift of gab. He started blabbering and gurgling and mumbling, in a totally incoherent manner!
I sense a change in the crowd too, and behold, the lot of them have started rocking in slow-motion, eyes pointed heavenwards… in a state of trance! I get the odd-guy blushes and start rocking myself. Then it happened!
A boy in the front row started shaking like he’d got the epilepsy or something like that. That really rattled me! I was starting to get goose-bumps all over! Then the nice old man with the French-beard followed suit. Then the lady in pink sari… then the rest of the front-row, including those good-looking girls, who I’d thought were the reason Varun had turned spiritual.
Suddenly the preacher comes and touches the boy who’d started shaking first and the boy falls senseless on the floor! By this time almost everyone has started shaking except me… I didn't know whether I should've been enjoying the funny show that was going on or not!
Varun, what about him? I turn around in slow-motion and my greatest fear came true. There was Varun… entranced, chanting in a progressive tempo, shaking like hell or heaven! I, alone in the crowd!
I gather my last ounce of courage and make for the door, away from a world apart...

Umesh came running to the mandapam in the Museum, where the rest of us were enjoying just another day of cloudspotting and relishing pointless chat. Here's how he looked after his hair-raising experience.

We had a good laugh, and made mental notes to steer clear off any invitation Varun might offer for another prayer-hall experience.

The Two Mrs. Nairs

2005-08-30T06:45:00.000-07:00

Those of you, who have seen the Vanitha women's magazine, must be familiar with the last page cartoon strip about a pompous house-wife called Mrs. Nair. This post however, has nothing to do with that character. This post is my tribute to two ladies who make my 'Sun'days in an otherwise bleak Raipur.

I'm talking about Srikant's and Shrijith's mother's. They are the silver linings in clouds of home-sickness that form around me while I'm in Raipur. They are my stomach's hope when it rumbles in protest against the food served at the HNLU Mess. They are the closest I get to a mother, quite like my own, despite being in Raipur.

I am at my jolly best when I'm on a visit to any one of the Nair homes. They happen to be my favourite hangouts in Raipur. I start cracking my best jokes the moment any of these houses come into sight. A smile takes over the major part of my otherwise gloomy face. My mouth waters at the thought of the good Kerala style food that would be awaiting me at the Nair home. Cloud Nine never felt this great.

I step in there and greet the Lady of the House with a smile, enquiring whether everything's fine. They smile back and enquire the same of me, in that infinitely concerned tone which God seems to have specially given to mothers. I am hugely comforted by those smiles. It is the closest thing to Mummy that I'll experience before my paroles, once in every six months. Then I sit down to conversation with the Mr. Nair, while Mrs. Nair goes to the kitchen to finish the preparation she's made, I'd like to think, especially for me. Though she be not in the room, the absence is covered by the aroma that emanates from the kitchen.

In about 5 minutes, I am only just keeping the saliva form dripping. Then she re-enters, inviting me to the dining room and to the feast she's prepared for me. Again the motherliness of the whole thing deeply comforts me. An expectant me enters the dining room to the sight of steaming rice on plaintain leaves set on the table, frilled on the sides with the varied Pachdi's and Kichdi's, Erisseries and Pulisseries, Aviyals and Theeyals and all those sadya mandatories. I forget washing my hands and fail hopelessly in trying not to be in a hurry. But Mrs. Nair understands all this, and starts serving.

The feast begins! This could be heaven for all I know! She urges me to eat more. Motherly intuition tells her its time for more sambhar or pappadam. She asks me whether the food is good. I reply incomprehensibly, owing to the enormous amount of choru mixed with sambhar, moru and pulisseri and pappadam in my mouth. In about 15 mins, my stomach is a balloon. Mrs. Nair brings on the Payasam. Do I say no? No! I take extra helpings with renewed vigour!

I would thank Shrijith and Srikant for selflessly introducing these wonderful ladies to me. I would pay my tribute to the two Mrs. Nairs for being what they have been to me. With them around, it's Onam everyday!

Dirty Details

2005-08-25T02:55:00.000-07:00

When I came back from Australia, silverine asked me to give the dirty details. Many posts hence, since I've got nothing better to talk about, I'll give you one especially dirty detail.
I would not have told it to you then... but I guess it's ok now. I won't go back there again... I'm sure the past will not catch up on me again!

That morning our rounds were scheduled in the early morning session. That meant we had to catch the CityRail at 7:10am. As luck would have it, we woke up at only around 6:40am. It was a time for sacrifices and I wholeheartedly sacrificed the cold-shower to my team-mates. My sacrifice just about did the trick and we ran into the 7:10 CityRail just as the doors were closing. Whew!

After a very good morning session, we started feeling hungry (breakfast was another sacrifice we made). We went to a nice place called Australia Square where we had the Sydney kind of breakfast. Halfway through the hamburger, my stomach reminded me that there was one another thing I sacrificed early morning... My mandatory biological waste disposal! The pressure was enormous (heavy supper the night before) and I had to do something!

Not to worry! After all this was Australia, where cleanliness is a way of life! That meant the public toilets were also bound to be clean (contrasted from Pay and Use ones in Rlwy Stations in India)! So I made my way to the sign for gents toilet (swear, didn't glance at the open ladies' door), smiling at everyone (they all seemed so accomplished) on the way.
I opened the door and lo and behold, the king among toilets I'd ever seen! Spirits rising, I opened a cubicle and sat down to bliss!
(I'll leave you guys to imagine what bliss could've been!)

Now comes the dirtiest part of the story! I finish my task and look around for water to clean myself. Horror of Horrors! Terror of Terrors! There isn't any water anywhere, except under me! The horrible truth dawned upon me! This was Australia, where people didn't like water the way we did in Kerala! They'd rather not get wet, what with the cold climate and all! Precisely for this purpose them westerners (aquaphobics) had invented the Tissue Paper!

My eyes searching desperately, fell upon a roll of this thing, Tissue Paper! No... Oh no! There has to be another way! Maybe I could just rush out and get myself some water from the basin outside! Not that... Don't wanna get caught with my pants down in Australia! Another way... another way... Give up!

I reluctantly submitted myself to the imperialists' designs and wiped myself with the tissue paper. I tidy myself and come out of the cubicle. All ok, except for the dirty, slimy, sticky, sleazy feeling in between my legs! It gives chills up my legs! It affects the way I walk! I'm all self-conscious and unsmiling as I open the door... I walk the corridor out, the guy who's got a world of trouble between his legs... an odd one out in a place where others come with troubled stomachs and leave with a sense of blissful accomplishment!

I reach the end of the corridor (jumping to avoid the open door at the ladies'), and as the noise of the crowd hit me, there in the middle of all those foreigners in Down Under, I realized i had another reason to be proud of my country... We've got water in our toilets!

And hey, my stomach wasn't troubling me anymore! That's what mattered after all! I'd achieved what my teammates could never dream of achieving! That's Padayatty! I gain the accomplished look that missed me on the corridor! I smile!

P.S. I did the same thing two more times in different places in Sydney and one time on the aeroplane! I believe I can venture to call myself an expert 'tissue culturist'!

'The Rising' Early Morning For 'Mangal Pandey'

2005-08-11T21:28:00.000-07:00

Well, believe it or not, but when all my friends back home in Kerala have just made it to the queue outside whatever theatre Amir Khan's much awaited movie Mangal Pandey - The Rising is being released, Padayatty is back online to blog his review of the movie! For once Raipur was of some use to me. It so happens that, the first show on the release date of any movie is at 5:00am in the morning. What do you say to that, eh?

An Amir Khan movie coming after such a long gap, especially when his last two movies (DCH, Lagaan) had endeared us so much to him, is bound to create the kind of madness that would cause blind fans like me to get to the cinema hall at any unearthly hour, even if the chances of getting any tickets were virtually non-existent. Despite these odds, me and a few other crazy guys (Achu, Sherin, Shrijith & Tapan) decided the gamble was worth a try, and stayed awake the whole night, and found ourselves an auto (with help from Sandeep Agarwal, my dear friend and junior), only to find at the cinema hall(3:50am) a battalion of fans crazier than us, who had camped overnight and were already in queue for the tickets! Tough luck. We'd have turned back not wishing to get trampled to death so far away from home, if it had not been for Sandeep who found someone on the queue who was willing to go to any limits to make sure that we got some tickets, if, we would give him a commission for his troubles. This was a better option than the stampede!(4:15am)

Time moved slowly as all of us waited, keeping an eye on our benefactor so that he wouldn't turn traitor. Meanwhile, people were doing all sorts of things to get to the front of the queue. They were all scared away by a guy with a lathi who kept waving it viciously, ocassionaly poking the odd guy who tried climbing to the roof of the ticket counter, or the guys sitting on top of the grilled corridor on the last lap to the ticket counter( they looked like monkeys). In between, one guy with his hair styled like Amitabh Bachchan(man did he look funny?) kept waving at the crowd below, from the roof of the theatre where he had somehow got to!

In between all these funny going ons and close shaves from being beaten with the lathi, we lost our benefactor in the crowd. But, there he was returning from the counter, beaming all over after having accomplished his mission. We grabbed the tickets and get on the queue for entering the hall.(5:00am) Here too a stampede is on. We wonder what the hurry is for as the show has not started yet. It is only after we make our way into the theatre that we find the reason.

The talkies people have sold more tickets than the total seats available. We see a crowd of people spilled all over the theatre, some standing on the chairs, some standing diretly in front of the projector hole projecting obscene gestures onto the screen. Well, what the heck... we got this far from nowhere, what's to standing andwatching the movie.

And so it was that my good friends and I, stood through the whole 3 hour long movie, dedicating our pains maybe to the spirit of fanhood!

***

Mangal Pandey - The Rising is the story of a man who probably was India's first ever martyr and freedom-fighter. A man about whom we have heard mentions in History classes as the man who started off the First War Of Indian Independence, but unfortunately about whom we do not know any further. A man who awakened to the possibility of being free during a period of ignorance that had blanketed the country. A man deserving to be equal in stature of any of the much filmed freedom fighters, but who till 'The Rising' has not. An unknown hero in a nation that loves its heroes. Ketan Mehta with his Mangal Pandey - The Rising pays tribute to this man and martyr, in an attempt to belatedly give this great his due.

The movie tells the story of the friendship between Capt. Gordon, an officer in the British East India Company and Mangal Pandey an ordinary Indian Sepoy who saved Gordon's life while at war in Afghanistan. They wrestle each other to tide over their differences, they get drunk together to play pranks on the bad Briton(i think he's the Smith guy from Lagaan), save damsels in distress from the sati pyre's, during the course of their at odds friendship, which as Mangal says is because of their skin-colour.

Mangal takes his trusted friend's word and bites off the rumoured-to-be-greased-catridges, forcing his fellow sepoys also to use the catridges. But later they find out that the rumour was not a rumour. This coupled with earlier incidents like the time when he had to shoot at agitated Indian villagers, causes Mangal to see the true colour of the Company.

When the Company fails to give due regard to the sentiments of the sepoys, they decide not to use the greased catridges anymore. An angry Company general threatens to shoot them. Mangal marches forward and stands in front of a cannon. This does the trick and the dissent starts spreading. Soon dissent spreads to other batallions. The soldiers take over the Company arsenal. The proud generals still do not gauge the seriousness of the situation. They try attacking the rebel sepoys, but end up having to turn back.

The sepoys from this point on see that they have it in them to be free. Mangal speaks of a government of the people to the visiting kings, who want their help in a all India struggle against the Company. They plan to launch all their attacks together and end it with a capture of the Red Fort.

The Company is also not keeping low. They divert a regiment from Rangoon towards India, which arrives earlier than anticipated by the Sepoys. The Sepoys all run away frightened, leaving a determined Mangal Pandey to take his stand against the Company's vast army. After firing a few shots Mangal shoots himself, in the hope that his blood would at least spark a revolt. Though Mangal survived, he was sentenced to death despite passionate arguments by Cap. Gordon on his behalf.

Mangal Pandey is hanged to death in front of a crowd of villagers. At Mangal's death the people awake to their power and the rest is what we Indians call the First War Of Indian Independence.

The music by A. R. Rahman is nowhere near the magic he's known for. The Mangal Mangal song raised spirits in the theatre. Me Vairi Vairi was also ok. The background music was at places western style and not quite fit for the scenes.

All the actors did their job well. But Amisha Patel still has to learn to cry.

The direction is not anything superb. So's the script. The movie has nothing artistic about it either. With respect to playing to the masses, instead of concentrating on patriotic moments and spirit dialogues, lots of time is wasted on the bollywoodkind of sex. Totally unnecessary. Some of the songs felt like planted without purpose. The climax, where the emotions should have been upped, was video footage of Mahatma Gandhi leading the masses and Nehru lifting the National Flag. That's not the way Lagaan ended... That's why it felt so good after coming from the cinema hall after that one!

Despite this, I liked the scenes where he faces the Britons alone, where he stands in front of the canon fearlessly and the one where he twirls his moustache at the Court Martial.

Verdict: Not up to the hype! Watchable, but nothing great to report.
Padayatty Rating: 2/5

Books and Padayatty!

2005-08-06T05:19:00.000-07:00

I am a bookaholic! My parents imbibed in me a good reading habit, which has not left me till today. Started with Grimm Brothers and folk tales, then abridged versions of the classics; Tintin, Asterix, Tinkle, Amar Chitra Katha in between; Enid Blyton... then the 18-till-they-die Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys (that was a race for who among frinds would complete the whole list first)... mention Three Investigators and Sherlock Holmes; then onto the Best-seller Paperbacks (John Grisham, Sidney Sheldon and the list goes on...); I was into the wonderful world of books, reading at least 2 books a week till I reached the 10th class.

Then on, other masculine and teenage distractions affected my reading habit. Though I have not given up on it, the number of books I read, has been minimum in the last four or five years. But I read most of the books that I consider my favourites, during these years.

Vacations was the time for reading. After roaming all around the city with friends the whole day, I would read late into the night some book I took from the Eloor Lending Library. Now that I have mentioned it, I might as well commend Eloor for being a very good library for fiction lovers, who cannot afford to buy New York Times Best Sellers with their hefty price tags (guess most Indians belong to that list). The Loyola School library was another place where my list of 'books I read' grew long. Another factor contributing to my interest in books, was certain people around me who were as excited as I was to discuss books; my sister Neena; my best friend Faiz Ali Mohammad, who I concede, defeated me in Hardy Boys, though I suspect he only read the summary given on the cover and the last chapter!

***

Angeline's been bombing me with tags! Been delaying it for no reason at all (read lazy)... so here goes my book tag!

1. Total number of books owned: Well, I come from a middle-class family, which is rich when it comes to bookish wealth. I don't think I can make any sort of guess as to the number of books owned. I personally own very few books (me and my sister got no mine's, only ours!).

2. Last book bought: Don't tell this to anybody because the last book I bought was a xerox copy of the Half-Blood Prince (bourgeoise publishers down! the proles need all the fanatasy they can get!).

3. Last book read: Same as above. Was lucky to find a copy(actually) in bloody Raipur!

4. Books that mean a lot to me:

1. Catcher In The Rye - Describes a state of mind I often find myself in! I face 'em phonies everyday, and I sure have a soft-corner (not the self-righteous take-you-to-heaven-with-me kind) for 'losers' as the conventional world calls them.

2. Catch-22 - Yossarian says they're all shooting at him. Somebody corrects that to they're shooting at everybody. Yossarian asks, in all simplicity, what the difference is! That's what Catch-22 means for me. My favourite anti-hero(conventional sense) deciding to live life for himself, forgetting country and all the liars who churnout Catch-22's so that simpletons like me and Yossarian end up dead for some cause which is not there!

3. To Kill A Mockingbird - My favourite hero, who decides to make a stand for what he thinks is right, when the society at large persecutes him. He becomes a role model for his young children, revealing to them and conditioning them to live by what their heart says is right in a world so wild. If I ever be a father, I'd be modeled on my own Papa and Atticus Finch! Also probably at the back of my decision to join law school.

4. Swami And Friends - I read this one long back. The friendship and the innocence of the boys felt very Indian and close to my own. Swami is just like me. He wastes time just before the examinations drawing up elaborate lists of things he might need while preparing for the exams. He edits and re-edits them and ends up getting very few of the items in his painstakingly made list. A wannabe organised guy, who loses himself in the finer details! I too have done the same things. Preparing schedules for my study leaves, which included minor details like the paragraphs in the books I had to study, tea-breaks, stretch-breaks. By the time I had finished the first schedule, I would be late by at least ten minutes on the grand opening. This meant another list. Poor Mummy has thrown enough schedules into the waste-basket!

6. Franny and Zooey - I'll do it for fat-lady! I recognize Jesus's presence in every individual, howsoever irritating they might be. For that reason, I might even put up with them! Salinger's style of writing definitely influenced me a lot (The bracket syndrome)!

7. Animal Farm - Helps me bear HNLU Farm! Enlightens me on how the majority of the people are, how they forget the past very easily. I loved the cynic, Benjamin the donkey, whose world view is probably best!

8. A Christmas Carol - Tells me not to go the Scrooge way. It's the spirit of Christmas for me!

That's all I can think of now!

Now, as the tag must go on, here's to...

Achu, Adarsh, Anjali, Anish, Anurag, Debanshu, Jiby, Madhvi, Praveen and Vishnu.

And...

Don't expect to borrow any books from me... I chew and digest them!

Padayatty on the Run!

2005-07-10T21:14:00.000-07:00

Been two years here in Raipur; but never seen what early morning is like. Today I found out... Thank you, Sudeep and Tapan, for helping me fulfil a two-year old wish!

I've been asking Sudeep 'Military' Vijayan to call me also when he goes on his post-nocturnal runs for keeping fit. I mean he can do it without a thought; what with his Military background and all. Not poor me. All my previous attempts at this sort of thing... failures!

Back in Trivandrum, all of us guys used to get bitten by the fitness bug once in a while. Same evening, we would each get a new pair of canvas shoes (the ones with green heels with absolutely no grip). Before night's sleep, the day before 'The Day', the strategically important task of setting alarms, and asking somebody or anybody to make sure we wake up. This is a particularly unpleasant task, what with all the pessimists back home making wisecracks about my previous unsuccessful attempts at the task at hand. After making these arrangements and finalising over the phone for the umpteenth time the finer details of our mission, sleep in the face of excitement, is minimum.

I'd have set 3 alarm clocks with a gap of 30 mins between their set times. The brilliant logic (another of those masterpieces which consistently arise from my intellect) behind this is that, given the human being's inherent unwillingness to obey alarm clocks, the first two alarms would serve as means to satisfy one's ego, and one would need to wake up at the third alarm only. You see, it's a kind of best of three system. You win the first two rounds against the alarms, and lose the third one as a gesture of sportsmanship. Ultimate gain for you! Brilliant me!

'The Day' arrives the next morning, after having slept through three alarms (I guess my ego's too big to be satisfied with two alarms (mental note to increase number of clocks next time)), when Sajjad, who's the closest to being organised in our group (that's because his Umma is very strict), wakes me up with a call, enquiring angrily as to why I have not yet reached the rendezvous point. I explain with a quick lie and get on my way.

The rendezvous is at the Trivandrum Museum-Zoo Park, which is a really beautiful park right in the middle of Trivandrum city, very near to my home. It used to be my stock joke when anybody asked me where I lived to say that I have lion's instincts, because I wake up every morning to the roar of the lion at the Zoo.

Anyway, by about 6:30 all lazy-bones' would finally get to the park. Then the lot of us would start jogging the circular park, the lazier ones at a leisurely pace, taking time to look at the girls in their designer-wear. Maximum of two rounds and then its sitting at the mandapam in the middle of the park, sharing fitness info like pro's. Then disperse, after having chaaya and ullivada from the nearest thattu.

After the first day's jog, the strength of the jogging fraternity would have diminished to null, because of the body-aches consequent to having made the mistake of moving one's lazy body, after having allowed it the luxury of never using it for days at length. That would be end of the mission for the time being. Again a few months later, the bug would bite again, and we would go through the motions again and... you know what!

One time, me and Varun went for about one week at length, and finally we had to stop because I couldn't bear Varun's valippus (you know, jokes that kill you) early in the morning (come on, I bear it the whole day during school, that's enough). Another time, the whole gang decided to go together and went seriously enough for the first few days. After that, one morning everyone was feeling lazy and we decided not to jog for that day and sat chatting in the mandapam. Same thing the next day, and the next... Three days later, everyone was feeling lazy to even talk. So we decided we could all take a nap in the benches at the park. Just for the day. Same thing the next day. And the next day... my Papa who comes to walk daily, saw all of us blissfully napping away on the benches. That was the end of the story... I never got to buy anymore canvas shoes!

I mean, Papa is right and all you know. The thing is while all other people went to the park early to do honorable things... me and friends went there to sleep. That's just not what anybody should be going to parks for, unless you're an animal at the Zoo or something like that! So there.

So, today morning, Tapan came and woke me up. He clarified on my enquiry that, Kariachan who was also supposed to go with us decided not to come. That was inspiration enough not to go. I offered having no shoes as an excuse and was about to get back to sleep when Sudeep Military came back from his jog, and said hi and offered to lend me his running shoes. That blew the excuse, and suddenly some heavenly inspiration made one thing lead to another and there was Padayatty on the Run!

Hurrah!

Wish me luck guys. I take this to be the begining of a new chapter in the life of the organised Padayatty. I'll need your prayers and wishes to keep on jogging. For tomorrow and a lifetime of Padayatty on the Run!

Statistically Me!

2005-07-10T21:01:00.000-07:00

I just became a statistic. You can be one too...

Hum

2005-07-03T23:53:00.000-07:00

This vacation was one of the best in years. The trip's lasting images come once more to my mind...
All of us were huddled together, Indian cricket team style and going around in circles when as if by divine inspiration somebody, think it was Anish, started singing Bum Chikku Chikku Bum from the film Hum. And everybody caught on, remembering clearly the lyrics of the old song about being for each other. No well rehearsed choir could match us that night, and we sang with passion, and renewed our friendship with a memory of a lifetime. At the end, everybody embraced each other and promised what we all knew for sure. That we would be friends forever!

"Bum Chikku Chikku Bum,
Chikku Bum Bum,
Bum Chikku Chikku Bum!

Ek Doosre Se... Karte Hain Pyar Hum!
Ek Doosre Ke... Liye Bekaraar Hum!

Ek Doosre Ke Vaaste Agar Marne Bhi Ho...
Hai Thaiyyar Hum!"

Lord Thank you for my friends! I'd be lost without them guys!

The Trip!

2005-07-03T22:15:00.001-07:00

Oh! What I would have given for it not to end! The trip to Pondicherry and Yercaud and 'Bangalore'... with friends! And the fun we had both in the run-up and during it. I mean when again, when an encore?

Four days before the trip, we started the campaign for the common funds. That meant visiting all the old acquaintances all of us had, and getting their varied contributions towards the common-good. The female ones were preferred. The boys almost never have any money with them. They're the ones with difficulties and inflation economies. But the girls... their parents load them up with enough money, which they have no way of spending. The only outlet is giving loans to poor boys who want to go on pleasure trips.

So there was the team under the leadership of expert canvassers Umesh and Anish, getting on the phone and that person who by had the bad luck of a sometime acquaitance with the lot of us. The money was borrowed on one pretext or the other, almost always with a promise, but never the intention, to give back the sum. I'm sure they'll get their dues in the Kingdom Come! For their priceless contribution to friendship, for their part in giving us more memories to treasure, of friendship. Three Cheers to all the benefactors who contributed to our trip!

Pondicherry was o.k. You see, we dont go bananas over beaches and that sort of thing because hometown Trivandrum has all the beaches we ever wanted, complete with Madammas lying on the sand in bikinis. Our search for a hotel in Pondi, turned out to be hilarious with people running over themselves to get us to a hotel with Caberet and swimming pool and more night entertainment. You wouldn't belive it, but we chose nay for the Cabaret and the rest and probably saved ourselves from being hauled off to some police station by kepieed policemen in the middle of the night. Nothing more to Pondi, because a bunch of guys dont think the Aurobindo Ashrama is interesting. So we skipped historical interest places, and all other interest places there was to see in Pondi. In fact we dint see much of Pondi, because all of us were bored at the thought of the culturally vibrant setting, and add the hot weather to it, we ended up seeing more of the channels on the TV at the Hotel than Pondicherry.

Gladly bidding Pondi goodbye, we left to the high point of the trip, which turned out to be the unplanned trip to Yercaud, a small hill-station about 20 kms from Salem. We spent two really wonderful days there, practically doing nothing other than making up ghost stories, and scaring each other, when we weren't running around the estate playing war like only small boys do. The team containing Manu, Sabari, Naveed and Umesh, beat us unfair and circular.

We went to the top point and all of us removed our shirts and started dancing semi-nude on the hill top amidst the fog and heavy wind. That coupled with the chill from the ghost stories which really scared Feroze and Ravi (me, I was not scared), made the experience truly wonderful.

I guess I'm not writing anymore beyond... it gives me the blues! Homesick, friendsick!

The Rolling Stone

2005-05-26T09:40:00.000-07:00

"How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?"

Well, I don't know much about anything. But sometimes I feel, being the kind of irresponsible person I am, I might be better off being the Rolling Stone. Ah! The Bliss! Just the super-tramp, the musafir, who keeps going with no direction, giving nothing and taking nothing.

But then... I tend to do some giving. You know things like unsolicited advice. That don't cost me a thing. But turns out, unsolicited advise that actually turns out to be useful for the other guy, puts the musafir in trouble. That builds a bond that pulls the musafir back. Poor me never intended it to pull me back. I did it out of the pure goodness in me. But now turns out I'm the object of the undeserved gratefullness of another, to whom I told something which I wouldn't do with myself!

Go on... but beware of giving any of those damned lectures on things you can't do yourself! But then leaving without taking nothing. That becomes difficult for me. I spin a bond with the guy who offered me some grub when I was starving. I wanna do something for him. Surely, there can't be two rolling stones in the same town. Is there anything I can do? Oh don't you worry about that... I'm doing just fine. You could've asked for something brother. then I wouldn't have given it to you. But now you chose so selfishly to not take a favour in return of a favour. That puts me in trouble. I can't break this bond!

There's friendship and love and other beautiful things in this world!

Walk on! Roll On! But don't mind about gathering that bit of moss!

My Best Friend's Sister's Wedding!

2005-05-17T09:05:00.000-07:00

Last month, two of my friends' sisters had their marriages. Now on an occassion like that the best friends are supposed to be around. Not just for eating extra-helpings of payasam or ice-cream. But for mental, physical and whatever other forms of support that can be given. And in fact, in the recent months we had been actually chitchatting about what role each one of us would be playing. About all of us wearing mundu's and running around being important. About serving the payasam and boli during the sadya. About welcoming mutual friends and showing them to their respective seats. About running to the flower-shop for that extra bouquet that was forgotten for some reason. About urging the guests to eat more "One more piece of chicken... Aw, come on... we thought you'd eat all of this!". About staying together the night before the marriage wreaking havoc when help would have been preferred. About...

So after all this idle talk, what happened was that I came back to Trivandrum just in time for Anand's sister's marriage. That meant I couldn't do any of the pre-wedding work. Chin-up Neil, you at least have the wedding day to make the best. Come wedding-day, I and Faiz, arrive late for the muhurtham. The only thing left now of course is to watch some others take the role's which we'd dreamt of playing. Anyway, I figured in a few snaps on the mandapam. That way at least somebody will think on seeing the photo's that I was doing something important.

So after that came Sabari's sister's engagement. There was Anish, Feroze, Manu and me from the gang. Once at the engagement venue at Attingal, we found that there Sabari's sister had enough chettans and chechis to do all those work we were supposed to do. That did it. Again the few snaps and the good food, with the extra-helpings and all. We scram!

Now the wedding's coming up. I promise myself that I'll be around to invite the guests and put up the pandal and serve the sadya and...

P.S. I wish the Chechi's of Anand and Sabari Happy Married lives!

Police Story

2005-05-11T08:15:00.000-07:00

The other day me and my friends, were waiting in Anish's car in front of Umesh's flat, waiting patiently for the coming of His Umeshness to join us in that evening's wanderings. We had waited for some time when a police jeep drew up alongside our car and four hefty policemen with grave faces jumped out.

(P1 who has a Veerappan moustache peeps in and asks)
"What are you doing here?"
(Naveed closest to the window answers timidly)
"Nothing"
(to which)
"What nothing?"
(Naveed less timidly)
"We're waiting for our friend"
(Feroze chips-in with a broken explanatory sentence)
"Umesh(pause)Swamidas(pause)Flat(pause)7(pause)B"
(whew that took more time than you'd think)
(P2 who looks as meek as a lamb, barks at us)
"Get out here into the light"
(all of us get out with expressions of this-doesn't-bother-us-expressions, which didn't look anything like this-doesn't-bother-us-expressions)
(The P's do a thorough search of the car; even opens up the dickie, and lifts the trampoline with the cautious approach of a bomb-inspector;finding nothin the P's expressions change a shade towards friendly; P1 asks in patronizing tone)
"What do you guys do?"
(answers all around; tones gain in confidence though thoroughly shaken)
(Feroze picks a cue and ventures in a confidential tone)
"Was there a complaint?"
(P's consider themselves too high-placed to answer, but save us with a nod)
(the P's leave the scene without explanations, leaving four sheepishly grinning youngsters all alone except for the small crowd of onlookers who'd found the whole incident funny)
(we continue with our grins trying not to think about the onlookers, till the last of them left the show)

Well, what was that all about! Scared me to the 'silence is golden' mode. Me the great lawyer-to-be is probbaly too scared to speak about rights when it's required. I'm sure it's good I didn't venture into a rights talk. The lathi would've answered that. What's the use of any bloody compensation once you've been beaten up with a police lathi. No compensation prepares me for the pain that it might cause. Ooh, I'm scared.
After all this, once inside the, I come up with an idea for lodging a case of defamation against them P's.
The Hero arrives, but a trifle too late.
Trash it.

For the Record

2005-05-11T08:14:00.000-07:00

Here's HNLU's campaign at Sydney, for the record:

http://www.spacemoot.org/ap2005.htm

For those who need to see to believe!

Me Back on Air

2005-04-26T05:36:00.000-07:00

I'm back from the 'Down Under', where everything's cool. It's a beautiful country, with toy like houses, green lawns, colourful hoardings, big skyscrapers... I mean there's too much, that I don't know what exactly to blog about. I guess I won't do a delibrate blog. I'll relate experiences as it comes to me in between writing or thinking about something else.
My team reached the semi-finals of the competition, and in fact was the only Indian team to reach the semi-finals. That's not much, but that's kind of solace.
But I do reiterate what I've always believed... HNLU is going places. So are all HNLUites. How else do you explain the brilliance of Adarsh Abraham Varghese, who won the prize of Best Oralist (Preliminary Rounds). Proud of you my boy. And me... I'll tell my grandkids the story of the prize.

Hail Hidayatullah!