Two Thirds Water

2 Years

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Fri, 15 Jul 2016 20:12:00 +0000

Some say, and we think so too, that we had been spoilt with Aditi. She was a very gentle little child when she was small, sitting in some quiet corner absorbed in a toy. Or sometimes talking in that tiny toddler voice to herself. We also lived in a smaller house with carpet on the floor, no stairs, nothing to climb up on. Even our bed was the low kind. Not that we had to worry about anything. She was not interested in climbing up on anything, and would behave as a lady at an English tea party.

And then, comes Shyam. He is kind of the exact opposite of what Aditi was when she was his age. A little active devil. I understand that he probably still is not as naughty or active as several other kids that we have seen, but he certainly is, for us. As I mentioned, I guess we have been spoiled by Aditi.

The little things were a bit slow in coming. He started turning over later, walking later, and still mostly speaks unintelligible gibberish. He has a shorter attention span and gets mad and angry. Throws little tantrums. Bites and pinches and scratches.
But he also laughs out loud. And loves climbing over me and Priya and Aditi. Loves his sister much (and she, him too). Gives the best hugs (shouting "hugggaaa"). Gives a naughty sideways smile as he is about to do something of mischief. Loves to take a bath (used to run to the bathroom when anyone mentioned a bath). Loves Bhujia and lollipop (papa) and green juice ("kala geen oos"). Loves running around in the backyard. Gets super excited to see other kids. Loves swings and slides. His favorite red car.
In so many ways now, we never can imagine how we used to live before he came along, just like how we could never imagine how life was before Aditi came along.

And this week, he turns 2.

Perhaps, it is the start of the terrible 2s. But I think it's a year where we get to know this little person better.

Happy Birthday, son. Happy birthday, Shyamu.

We have lost someone dear..

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Mon, 27 Jul 2015 21:24:00 +0000

It is not very often that a death of someone we do not know personally burdens us much. But then to any Indian, Abdul Kalam was not someone whom you did not know personally. He was an icon, someone whom you could really look up to. Someone whom we could all aspire to be, a better, noble human being. And yet someone who seemed so approachable and close to you. A person whom you genuinely wished would live forever, as a guide, a teacher.

India has indeed lost a dear son.

The war

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Tue, 07 Jul 2015 16:58:00 +0000

He stared at the night sky, a faint sigh escaping his lips. The fire cackled near him, and the night felt suddenly cold, as if the sound of the fire had made him realize that it was indeed a cold night. But it was just a physical reaction. His mid was somewhere else, somewhere very far.

The entire cosmos seemed visible in the night sky. Far far away, he could make out the distant constellations. Suddenly he felt tired. And irrelevant. "Why?", he asked himself.

But then he knew the answer to it too.

He looked around him. The place was finally deserted of humans. There were hyenas and vultures and foxes, feeding on the dead. But he wasn't afraid of them. Scavengers feeding on the dead. It was an animal instinct. Nothing else. But the destruction around him, the human loss! Oh, that saddened him.

Power,and greed. How it corrupted the human mind.

Great, powerful men had fought, for power, land and gold. And had left everyone dead, but just a few.

"Had good won?" He thought, and then again where could one draw the line between good and evil?

The war hadn't lasted long, just a few days. But it was the culmination of a long drawn feud. A feud that had been simmering for decades. That had, very often, resulted in skirmishes and conflicts. But an all out destructive war!
But now, it had ended. Whole clans decimated. Alliances destroyed. All that was left were a few survivors, and the horde of dead bodies.

Why had it happened? Where had he, a philosopher admired by both the sides, gone wrong? Why had he failed to stop this?

He looked back at the night sky. Deep inside, he wished that there might lie an answer. But the sky remained the same, and yet constantly changing.

He felt very trivial, sitting there, the ever shifting universe above him. He wondered. Does anything that we do change anything? The universe moves on, and yet, we kill, and battle for those tiny moments of gratification. We feel powerful, control other men, and yet, what are we, but a mere speck in the grand scheme of things?
He wondered what went through the minds of these feuding clans, their leaders. Had they no sense of morality? Didn't their hands tremble before they butchered one another?

"Morality".

A faint light shone in his eyes.

He knew that they were scared of nothing. That no good or evil went through their minds. For them, it was but a natural flow of things. And yet, he had to stop it from happening again. A tragedy of this scale should not occur again. Somehow, he felt that it was his duty to make that happen.

His destiny.

They had to be made aware of a righteous force. That was the only way.

He had to create a creator.

An omnipresent, omnipotent creator who would pervade and instill a sense of righteousness among his people.

Dawn was slowly breaking.

Vyasa sat up, and began writing.

മംഗലയാനം

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Thu, 17 Jul 2014 04:28:00 +0000

നാസയിൽ ഒരുച്ചയ്ക്ക് ..
മാനേജർ ശിപായിയോട് : "എടൊ, ഒരു 5 ബില്ല്യണ്‍ വേണം ..എന്താ ഒരു പോംവഴി?"

"സാർ...അതിപ്പോ.."

"എടൊ, കക്കാനും പിടിച്ചു പറിക്കാനും ഒന്നും അല്ലല്ലോ പറഞ്ഞത്.."

മാനേജർ ബുദ്ധി ചികയാൻ തുടങ്ങി.

കറങ്ങുന്ന കസേല കറക്കി.

ചുമരിലെ ഭൂപടത്തിൽ കണ്ണുടക്കി.

തലയിൽ വിളക്ക് മിന്നി. ഒരൊന്നൊന്നര മിന്നൽ .

"എടുക്കെടാ ഫോണ്‍ ! വിളിക്കെടാ ദുബായ് !"

--------

"ഹലോ , രാജാവല്ലേ?"

അപ്പുറം ഘനഗംഭീര ശബ്ദം . "അതേ!".

(അങ്ങനെയായിരിക്കാം പറഞ്ഞത് എന്ന് സായ്പ്‌ വിശ്വസിച്ചു . കേട്ടത് അറബിയിൽ എന്തോ ഒരു ശബ്ദം )

"രാജാവേ, ഈ ചന്ദ്രനേം നോക്കി ഇരുന്ന മതിയോ? നമുക്ക് അമ്ബിളിമാമേ ഒന്നെത്തി പിടിക്കണ്ടേ?"

"എന്തൂട്ടിനു? ഞമ്മക്കിബ്ടെ ഷോപ്പിംഗ്‌ ഉത്സവോം, കുതിരപ്പാചിലും ഒക്കീല്ല്യെ? ഇപ്പൊ ദൊക്കെ മതീന്ന്"

പണി പാളുന്നോ ? - മാനേജർ സായ്പ്‌ കട്ട തണുപ്പിലും ഇരുന്നു വിയർത്തു.

ശിപായി ഇടപെട്ടു.

"ഹല്ലാ രാജാവേ! ങ്ങളൊന്നും അറിഞ്ഞില്ലെ? മ്മളവടെ എണ്ണ കണ്ടു പിടിച്ചു"

രാജാവ് അങ്ങേത്തലക്കൽ ഒന്ന് ഞെട്ടുന്നത് മാനേജറും ശിപായിയും അറിഞ്ഞു.

രാജാവിന്റെ തല പുകഞ്ഞു ..കാര്യങ്ങൾ പണ്ടത്തെപ്പോലെ ഒന്നുമല്ല. ടൂറിസ്റ്റിനേം ഒക്കെ കാത്തു എത്ര കാലം?

രാജാവ്‌ ചോദിച്ചു - "ചന്ദ്രനിൽ എണ്ണ കിട്ടുമോ?"

ശിപായിയുടെ കണ്ണിൽ ഡോളർ നോട്ടുകൾ മിന്നി.

"ചന്ദ്രനിലോ ? ഇതങ്ങു ചൊവ്വയിലാണ് പ്രഭോ !" - ഒരു മുഴം നീട്ടിയെറിഞ്ഞു . (ഒന്നല്ല..ഒരായിരം കാതം )

രാജാവിന്‌ ചൊവ്വയും ചന്ദ്രനും ഒക്കെ കണക്കു ..ഓൾ ആർ മാത്തമാറ്റിക്സ്.

"എണ്ണയുണ്ടോ? ഉറപ്പു പറയാമോ?"

"ഒക്കെ ഒരു 50-50 അല്ലെ രാജാവേ?"

"കായി എത്ര്യാ ?"

"ചന്ദ്രനാണെങ്കിൽ ഒരു ഒന്നൊന്നര ബില്ല്യനിൽ ഒതുക്കാമായിരുന്നു..", ശിപായി ഫോണിൽ തല ചൊറിഞ്ഞു. "ഇതിപ്പോ ചൊവ്വയൊക്കെ ആയാൽ..ഒരു അഞ്ചിൽ ഒതുക്കാം"

രാജാവ് പിന്നെ ഒന്നും ആലോചിച്ചില്ല.

ഒരേ ഒരു കണ്ടീഷൻ..പത്രത്തിൽ ഇതൊരു മുഴു ദുബായ് വിഷയം ആവണം.

"ശെരി" - രണ്ടു ബഹിരാകാശൻമാരും ഒരുമിച്ച്.

"വിടെടാ പേടകം" രാജാവ് ഉറക്കെയുറക്കെ ചിരിച്ചു.

അങ്ങേ തലക്കൽ, ദൂരെ, മാനേജറും ശിപായിയും ഊറിയൂറി ചിരിച്ചു.

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http://gulfnews.com/news/gulf/uae/general/uae-launches-space-quest-for-mars-1.1360800

Losing hope

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Fri, 19 Apr 2013 15:46:00 +0000

Many a time, peculiar news item appear, of creatures considered arch enemies in nature taking care of the offsprings of each other. A tigress taking care of a baby monkey whose mother it had just killed. Dogs taking care of kittens.
And yet, apparently the most intellectually superior one among all those creatures, the human being, stoops to levels so low that even the heinous creatures would break into tears.

Molesting, no, violating a 5 year old child!!

Is there nothing unthinkable in this age? Even those seers, who sat down to envisage the Kaliyuga in Srimad Bhagavatham, or the Gods who foresaw the age of degenerating human values in the Holy Bible or the Quran could not have conceived of something so cruel.

And if the police, as the parent of the child said, offered to pay him a bribe to keep this quiet - Are they any better? Wouldn't anyone's heart just break at this? Or am I just having a bit too much hope in humanity?

Time for India to step up.

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Wed, 27 Mar 2013 13:58:00 +0000

News item here

The Afghan deputy foreign minister jawed Ludin told Reuters about the possibility of negotiating the peace process without the help of Pakistan. While it might still be too early to predict how this goes, India should leap on this opportunity ans try to step up the game.
Already being part of the rebuilding process and being on not-so-bad terms with Afghanistan's other big neighbor, Iran, would help. And this comes at a time when the Americans and the NATO forces have grown really weary of Pakistan and even of Afghanistan and their stake and dedication in the peace process. India, very familiar with the type of power political climate that plays out in the region stands to gain.

The birthday.

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Mon, 18 Mar 2013 22:18:00 +0000

Priya and Aditi are in India on vacation. So I thought the birthday would be a lonely affair. Nope. Attended a lavish Gujarati wedding. Cut the mandatory cake at Naveen's place. Not too bad.

When I had called Priya in the morning, they were in the car, going somewhere.
When she handed over the phone to ammu and told her to wish her Acha a happy birthday, she began crying out loudly. Felt really bad. Her question being "How can it be Acha's birthday when I am not there?". True, isn't it?

Turning 4.

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Mon, 25 Feb 2013 21:19:00 +0000

"Acha, when I go to school, Miss Nataschja will see me and say -"Aah, the birthday girl is here!!", my pretty li'l princess tells me in the morning, just about to head to school. Wearing a white frock (with a dash of the mandatory pink), and a very excited grin, she trots off, giving a quick wave and a flying kiss to me.

Oh, how time flies! To use a cliche, I still remember like yesterday, the day I held her first in my arms. And though it hasnt been all that long, she is turning 4.

The little girl who barely made a sound the first few months now chatters incessantly. Mostly playing imaginary school. Sometimes being Snow-white or Merida or Tiana. Questioning everything with a why. Raising her little hand every now and then when Priya and I are talking because "Miss Nataschja says, if you want to talk when someone else is talking, you have to raise your hand". Making little chapathis for amma and acha. Being "a very good helper". Putting on the "my stomach is hurting" - face when we tell her to help pick her toys up and clean up the room. Asking sweetly whether we're having visitors whenever we clean up the house (That explains a lot about our cleaning habits, doesnt it?). Asking "is there no food in the house" when Priya makes noodles. Singing and chatting with friends in her sleep. And on and on and on.

Sometimes, I just want to hug her, and tell her not to grow up so fast! Wish I could somehow freeze time and savor every moment more, and more.

Happy birthday Ammukkutty.

(And here's a drawing she made of all three of us. Aditi (Top Left, with eyebrows), Amma (Top Right) and Acha (Bottom). In case you are wondering, the triangles on our foreheads are our foreheads.)

Home away from home.

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 19:24:00 +0000

The house where we started our life together.
Which was devoid of any furniture for a long time. Where we even set up a tent which we had bought to go camping.
The house in which we found out we are having a daughter.
The house into which Aditi came home for the first time.
Where we weathered snow and rain and Irene.
Where ammu first leaned to walk, spoke her first words.
The rented house which was our home for five years.

And now, not home anymore.
Bittersweet.

Bitter because of the infinite memories that live in that house.
Sweet because now we call a new place our home. Our own.

To new beginnings!!

All the A's

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 03:17:00 +0000

It's A's all over the place.
On bits of paper on the sill. On the large Pooh board books. On notebooks. Everywhere.

A's of all sizes and shapes. Some as big as my hand. Some as small as her little fingernail.
Scrawled in the shapes of stars, some resembling W's.
But they are all A's. I know because that is the only letter she has learnt so far.

Her tiny hand holding the pencil tight. Moving Up, then Down and then Straight.

The sheer excitement on her little face when she writes an A after another.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ammu, shall I teach you to write B today?"
"No Acha. I want to write A".

And so it is A, again.

Lovin' it.

Books-owned-list

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Fri, 29 Jul 2011 15:42:00 +0000

Lying very safe somewhere in Bangalore are a hundred books. All of which I have read except 6, which I started, but never finished. Some very close to my heart. Some which I dont want to be caught reading. Why put it here now? There was this list sitting at the bottom of my google docs page. Brought back so many memories. Funny how you can just think of a book from the list and wake up all the stories behind it.

A brief history of time

Alchemy of desire, The
Alexander - Child of dreams
Almost Twelve
Angels and Demons
Apocalypse watch, The
argumentative indian, the
Athabasca
Atlas shrugged
Autograph man
Black Sunday
Bourne Supremacy
Broca's Brain
Broker, the
Business @ the speed of thought
Catcher in the rye
Cat o nine tales
Code name God
Contagion + Vector
Contest
Cosmos
Da Vinci Code, The
death is my neighbor
Deception Point
devil's alternative, The
Digital fortress
Dilbert principle, The
E-Intelligence
emperor's new mind, The
Everything happens for a reason
Exorcist, The
Feast of the goat
Fermat's last theorem
Five Point Someone
Fooled by randomness
Foucault's pendulum
Fountainhead
freakonomics
Google Story, The
great Indian novel, The
Great short stories of the world
Hammer of Eden + Code to Rebecca
Hannibal
How can you move mount fuji
How Opal Mehta got kissed, got wild and got a life
idiot, The
Iginited minds
India Unbound
Interpreter of maladies
Invisible man
J Kishnamurti - Knowledge & Thinking
Karamazov brothers
last frontier, The
Last Juror, The
last temptation, The
lexus and the olive tree, The
Light of Asia
Made in Japan
Mediocre but arrogant
metamorphosis, The
Mila in love
Mister God, this is Anna
Music of the primes
My own country
Mysterious pleasures
No comebacks
Of human bondage
O Jerusalem
Old man and the sea
Oliver's story
One hundred years of solitude
One night at a call center
Pickwick papers
Piece of cake
Portable Thoreau
Power of compassion
principal Upanishads, The
Readers Digest 1
Readers digest - 2
Red dragon
Reminisces of the Nehru age
Roald Dahl - Short stories
Rule of four
Shadow of the wind
Shakespeare - Complete
Silence of the lambs
snapshots from hell
State of fear
Three men in a boat
tipping point, The
To kill a mocking bird
velocity
Vertigo
veteran, The
wheels
Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance
Zorba the greek
damsel in distress
clocks, the
Rumpole omnibus
mammoth book of Jacobean whodunnits, The
maximum city
Hannibal rising

Miscellany

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Thu, 21 Jul 2011 17:35:00 +0000

Read in the news - "Mr. Krishnakumar, who is a Coconut oil producer by profession..."
Wait. Is he a Coconut?

Office - "You know I am very scary sometime" - Someone describing how scared he gets. I always imagine him as Sulley from Monster's inc.

Priya made her 'Stone soup' last weekend. Sambar was on the menu, and something was missing from it when we sat down to eat. Sambar powder. True story.

Ammukkutty, after her tinkerbell (tittabell as she calls her) series and Tangled ('doll' as she calls Rapunzel for reasons unknown) has a new fixation. Rio. Yup, I know all the dialogs.

Priya was explaining to my aunt in Kerala how Ammu was always playing on her phone (iP). I could imagine the aunt's confusion, her imagining the wired phone and Priya talking about a 'smart' touchphone. (Yes, ammukkutty calls it Aditi's phone).

Reading a horror genre story after a loong time. Heart-shaped box, by Joe Hill, the 'Prince (King's son). The first Stephen King book was 'IT', after watching the movie. The movie was lame. The book, superb.

That's all. Oh yeah, and this - http://theviewspaper.net/the-diminishing-window

അച്ഛമ്മയില്ലാതെ ഒരു കൊല്ലം

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Thu, 07 Jul 2011 03:42:00 +0000

ദൂരെയിരിക്കുമ്പോള്‍ അസമയത് ഫോണ്‍ കോള്‍ വന്നാല്‍ വല്ലാത്തൊരു വേവലാതിയോടെയാണ് ഫോണ്‍ എടുക്കുക. അച്ഛമ്മ പോയി എന്ന് ഏടത്തിയമ്മ വിളിച്ചു പറഞ്ഞത് പുലര്‍ച്ചെ ആയിരുന്നു. ഒരു കൊല്ലം. കാലം എത്ര പെട്ടെന്നാണ് പോകുന്നത്.

അച്ഛമ്മയെപ്പറ്റി ഓര്‍ക്കുമ്പോള്‍ ആദ്യം ഓര്മ വരുന്നത് പ്രേം നസീറിനെയാണ് എന്നത് ചെറിയൊരു വിരോധാഭാസം തന്നെ. പിന്നെ ആലോചിക്കുമ്പോള്‍ ഓര്‍മകള്‍ക്ക് ഗന്ധരാജന്റെ മണമാണ്. വെല്ലത്തിന്റെ സ്വാദും. എന്നും രാവിലെ അലനല്ലൂരിലെ വീട്ടിലെ മച്ചില്‍ പൂജ ചെയ്യുന്ന രൂപം. വൈകുന്നേരങ്ങളില്‍ കാലില്‍ കുഴമ്പ് തേക്കുന്നതും, ഉച്ചക്ക് മുകളില്‍ പോയി ഭാഗവതം വായിക്കുകയും, ഇടയ്ക്ക് ഭക്തപ്രിയയിലെയും മാതൃഭുമി ആഴ്ച്ചപ്പതിപ്പിലെയും കഥകള്‍ ഉറക്കെ വായിച്ചു തരുകയും, അതിനിടയില്‍ അച്ഛമ്മ ഉറങ്ങി പോകുമ്പോള്‍ അടുത്ത് ചുരുണ്ട് കൂടി കിടക്കുന്നതിന്റെയും, രാമായണം ടിവിയില്‍ കാണുമ്പോള്‍ കുട്ടികളോടൊക്കെ മിണ്ടാതിരിക്കാന്‍ പറഞ്ഞു ഭക്തിയോടെ അത് കാണുന്നതിന്റെയും, ചെറിയ നോട്ടുബുക്കില്‍ 'നാരായണ' എഴുതുന്നതിന്റെയും, നിധി പോലെ അച്ഛമ്മ സൂക്ഷിക്കുന്ന ആ ചെറിയ പെട്ടി തുറക്കുമ്പോള്‍ അതിലെ ഓരോ സാധനത്തിന്റെയും കഥ പറഞ്ഞു തരുന്നതിന്റെയും ഓര്‍മ്മകള്‍. ഒരിക്കലും ദേഷ്യപ്പെട്ടു കണ്ടിട്ടില്ലാത്ത ഒരു മുഖം. കാണണമെന്ന് പറയാറില്ലെങ്കിലും കാണുമ്പോള്‍ സന്തോഷം കൊണ്ട് വിടരുന്ന മുഖം. ഇനി ഈ ഓര്‍മ്മകള്‍ മാത്രം.

ഞാന്‍ അച്ഛമ്മയെ അവസാനം കണ്ടത് അച്ഛമ്മ പോകുന്നതിന്റെ രണ്ടു കൊല്ലം മുമ്പാണ്. അന്നും കിടപ്പിലായിരുന്നെങ്കിലും ഇടക്കൊക്കെ എണീട്ടിരിക്കാന്‍ പറ്റിയിരുന്നു. അതാണ്‌ അച്ഛമ്മയെക്കുറിച്ചുള്ള അവസാനത്തെ ഓര്മ എന്ന് മാത്രം ഞാന്‍ ആശ്വസിക്കുന്നു.

Paattupetti

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Wed, 13 Apr 2011 22:43:00 +0000

Bathroom singers like me have a very leading edge over all the full time singers in that we never have to be conscious of our ragas or talam, and we could sing in any language, any song with no regards at all to the meaning or the tune. But once in a while some of the songs defy known norms and pass on to the realm of "Unbelievable", where the lyrics are so ridiculous that no one would actually believe that these songs exist.
Priya, who is very tolerant of the tortured noises emanating from the bathroom is one soul who'd believe almost every thing I sing, real or made up. But even she has limits and here are a list of 3 songs that have defied even her. And the irony is, even when she couldnt see through the many impromptu songs that I made up, the ones she suspected were all real movie songs -

1. Dishum Dishum Dishum - Before we were married, and were working, she'd once in a while narrate a long malayalam movie story and ask me which movie it is from. Her whole family would have watched the movie on a sunday on TV, but since none of them can read malayalam she wouldnt know the name. But CID Moosa, she knew. Mention the movie name and she would start giggling. It was (is) one of her all time favorite movies, for reasons I really cannot comprehend. And so when I ask her how she likes the "Dishum dishum dishum" song, she gives me a blank stare and tells me not to bluff. I tell her that the movie actually has a song where the chorus goes "Dishum dishum dishum, Dishum dishum dishum". She tells me she has seen the movie a lot of times and even by CID Moosa's utter silly standards, this is a bit too much. So I tell her that I'd call her when the song comes on cable next. I do. But by the time she switches on the TV and gets there, the song is done. We miss again and again. Then one day, finally, she gets to hear that and she is surprised and dumbfounded.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kdnCydBnKQE

2. Maathaadu Saaku Mouna pisaaku - You pick up some rare gems in Bangalore Auto rickshaws. This song being one. The Auto drivers overcharge like there's no tomorrow. And if you start in Hindi or English they instantly recognize you for what you are. An overpaid IT employee. And charge you like that too. Start in Tamil, and you never know which way it goes. If the autodriver is not a hardcore Kannadiga who doesnt mind Kaveri politics, you might do ok. Else, well...
But start in Kannada and I have always had positive results. There was this time when I had only told him where to go and had asked the rate in Kannada and he started this long monologue that included traffic woes and politics and movies and inflation and what not, of which, well I understood traffic and Kumaraswamy and Puneet Rajkumar and rupees. But then, he charged only the meter fare, even though it was nearing midnight. Oh, I digress. Well, the song. I had heard this one in an auto, and once when we were having lunch in the cafteria, I "recited" (sang might be too strong a word, given my capabilities) the first 2 lines and the future wife gave me a sarcastic look. I had invaded her territory.

"There is no song like that!!".

"Of Course there is. I heard it the other day."

"No no. I wont believe that."

"Well, you better..."

Now since this was before youtube had become a comprehensive registry of all the songs in all the languages ever. So I couldnt get her to believe me. It had to wait. But eventually, it didake it to the tube and well, she had to believe.

Even I didnt (and dont) know the song past the first 2 lines, and it is kind of an atrocious song for me to want to follow in whole.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3RK2Wzx6WOs

3. Coming Coming Coming Coming Aayi Hoon Main - It must be the way I sang this (though I tried my best to stick to the tune) that she outrightly said "No Way!!". This is the most recent one, from last week. Now things are at a point where after a song with some of the most meningless lyrics, I jokingly ask her if she's heard it before, and she almost always has. But this one, no. And now technology being on the tips of our fingers, I pulled up the tube immediately, but surprise, I couldnt find it there. Eh?? But Sri Google (like Sri Krishna - now g is omnipresent and omnipotent - stale one, I know) knew about it, and then 5 minutes after she had questioned the existence of the song, it played loud and clear. Coming Coming Coming Aayi Hoon Main...Aapne jo pukaaraa.

http://www.redfm99.com/old-mp3-songs/online-listen-mp3-songs-download.php?song=Coming+Coming+Aayi+Hoon&movie=Rang&singer=Alka+Yagnik&sid=13275&cid=1202

Ammukkutty

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Wed, 13 Apr 2011 02:56:00 +0000

Ammukkutty decided to take this -

And do this!!

Airport cities

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Thu, 31 Mar 2011 17:51:00 +0000

Happened to read this piece by Pico Iyer in Time Magazine.

http://www.time.com/time/specials/packages/article/0,28804,2059521_2059701_2059696,00.html

Now, who am I to talk about a piece written by an Oxford educated author? But what stuck me was the irony in it. All those people scurrying across the globe to wonderful new places, the jet-set, are all professionals. You would be hard pressed to find a tourist living out of airports, I am sure. And while I agree that humans are nomads by nature, all these people fly out mostly to improve their stature - better money and a better social standing being the final goal, of which the ultimate culmination is a large house in a suburb which in some terms translate to better living conditions, away from the ruckus.

So an "Aerotropolis" is a means to a villa?

Of a long lost summer

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Thu, 31 Mar 2011 02:41:00 +0000

Remember summer vacations?

I hardly do any more. They are more of a blur these days, like all of the past summer vacations have been fused and melted together into this one giant long vacation that has bits and pieces from all those making up the weeks or days of it, a memory there, and one here.

But there is this one summer that sticks to the memory. I had spent a month at Alanallur (my father's ancestral house) and muthassan had come to take me back to Vaniamkulam towards the end of the vacation. And he talked excitedly about a couple of books he had brought me. One was a book on science games (101 science games?) and the other was an abridged copy of Oliver Twist. The science book did raise more interest in me than the story of a young boy stuck in a miserly orphanage, but then that was only the first in a series of abridged books. Tale of two cities and Robinson Crusoe and the Three Musketeers followed soon. And then The Count of Monte Cristo and Great Expectations. I had already watched Great Expectations aired on Doordarshan and knew Pip, but the small book opened a whole new window. It did take a long time for me to eventually read all these in a non-abridged form, some of them years because I just couldnt get myself to pick up the book now that I knew the story, foolish in not realizing that there is very little in the story alone. Like they all say, the joy really is in the journey.

Muthassan left us long back, at the end of another summer vacation, and his dream work of translating the Kambar Ramayanam, used to narrate the story in the Leather Puppet Show (Is that even a fair translation of tholppaavakkoothu, a dying art?), is still not complete.

It was the same summer, the day on which Leelacheriamma was to start back to AbuDhabi, when the house was in a frenzy of packing and farewells and emotions that I noticed a broken toycar in a ditch. It was one of those remote control cars, which were I guess still a rarity. There was a small motor in that which when connected to a batter went whirrr, and started a lifelong fascination with elctricity and things it does, including really nasty elctric shocks several times and blowing up the entire building's fuse up (Imagine 64 flats without electricity? You get the idea.).

It was the same summer that I learnt how to swim. After several small misadventures featuring cocnut floaters, truck and car tire tube floaters and sari floaters (Now that deserves a story by itself?), I had somehow learnt to stay afloat like a dog in the water, leg down, hands wildly flaying. That was when people decided to get rid of all the plankton that had gathered up in our little pond. And somehow, with several people working at one corner I did not feel so scared to dive in. Oh, the glorious feeling of being able to swim.

I can still smell the dry wind coming up from the paddy fields in the evening, the rumble and tumple of the old grinder going about its work, and the devotional songs starting to play from Aaryankaavu on cue from the setting sun. A quick dip in the pond, and then the prayers and the multiplication tables. I obviously loved the 1s and 5s and 10s because they were the easiest, but then later amma decided that I could skip those.

After dusk, it was mostly s depressing time, with the voltage levels so low that lights burned like candlesticks. There was nothing to watch on tv, so it was mostly reading some old reader's digest in the dim light.

And after dinner, we'll all sleep in the big hall, on beds stuffed with cotton. Muthassan would be smoking cigarettes late into the night, lying down, only that small ember visible in the dark, and the sound of crickets and some odd bird calls. (Oh, how I miss sleeping near open windows.)

Now, when generation gaps are getting created within just a couple of years, and we are so connected that we refresh the twitter feed and facebook feed every half hour, I miss the isolation the most. And I grow nostalgic about that summer vacation.

But then nostalgia is only for those who can afford to think of a better time, I guess.

Corruption

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Fri, 11 Feb 2011 05:29:00 +0000

Sukh Ram, Communications Minister, was arrested in 1996 for misappropriation of funds worth 3 Crores.

A Raja is being detained for misappropriation worth 3000 Crores.

15 Years.

A 1000 times increase.

Ugh!! Enough said.

Nightmares

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Sun, 06 Feb 2011 06:47:00 +0000

It used to be the same dream again and again. I would be walking down the railway bridge near Shornur. The Bharathappuzha below, mostly bare. And I would fall. I would see Leelacheriamma below. Raising her arms forward to catch me, running in from some distance. And Thud!!
Unlike in the movies, I would not fall off from the bed. It just would remain as a striking feeling under my feet that shoots up the legs. And a thudding heart.
And then, they somehow ended.
******************************************************************
Back in the early 90s we did not have cable tv and had to watch the boring state transmission in Abu Dhabi.Friday evenings were mostly camel races. Boring Camel races which I am pretty sure not too many people watched, most of the population being Malayalis. Never gave it much of a thought until I read a recent article.

The article dealt with human trafficking in general, concentrating on the Indian subcontinent. In between it described in chilling detail how children from countries here, especially from Bangladesh, were brought to the Middle East as Camel jockeys. The children, it seems are just between 2 and 6 years old since they prefer light riders. They place the child on the back of the camel and hand a whip. The children scream in fright driving the camel to run faster.

Is there absolutely no humane feeling left in the cold hearts?

Since reading this, every single night I have woken up sweating, a silent scream bursting out from inside, to find ammukkutty lying peacefully beside me.
She turns 2 next month.
And I see her face on that child on the camel every night.

Fairytale

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Thu, 02 Dec 2010 05:17:00 +0000

While trying to get Ammukkutty to sleep, I thought I'd tell her a small stpry. After all, I grew up hearing a lot of stories from my leelche, amma, ammamma, achamma and achan.

So I started with the most familiar beginning:

"പണ്ട് പണ്ട് ഒരു രാജ്യത്ത് ഒരു രാജാവും, രാജ്ഞിയും, ഒരു രാജകുമാരിയും ഉണ്ടായിരുന്നു.

ഒരു ദിവസം രാജകുമാരി രാജാവിനോട് പറഞ്ഞു 'അച്ഛ, എനിക്ക് ഒരു സ്വര്‍ണത്തിന്റെ ആപ്പിള്‍ വേണം'."

I was about to tell her how the king went into the forest in search of the golden apple, met the bird with golden feathers, found the horse with the golden mane before finally getting the golden apple.

But her Amma intervened.

"അപ്പൊ രാജാവ് രാജകുമാരിക്കൊരു iPhone വാങ്ങിക്കൊടുത്തു."

I just sighed and turned over to sleep. So did ammukkutty.

Feeling small

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Thu, 04 Nov 2010 21:59:00 +0000

I was watching the Big Bang Theory theme song the other day, the "Our whole Universe" by BareNakedLadies.

And the way it tells that the Universe was formed in an instant, kind of sooner than it takes to sing the song.

Made me feel tiny, and silly thinking about my problems. What are we but a tiny speck of sand in a desert.

Made my thoughts seem frivolous. Wonder at what silly things like land and art and books that we fight about.

And the religion and the gods that we made and now make us.

And the way we inflict pain without even pausing to think that it doesn't even matter a tiny bit, in the eons of time, nothing matters.
EVER.
Wow!!

Federer is what again?

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Thu, 09 Sep 2010 15:02:00 +0000

Great win Roger!!
Found this on the comments section on the US Open site:

What Kerala Drinks

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Wed, 08 Sep 2010 20:36:00 +0000

http://bit.ly/b9s7hX

The Communist Conundrum

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Fri, 02 Jul 2010 03:04:00 +0000

CPI-M and the High court of Kerala are in an open conflict. The reason? The High Court order aginst conducting public meetings on road-sides that causes people a lot of inconvenience. Some really unimportant leaders and some important leaders then started calling the Judges names that roughly translate to fools or simpletons or what not. NEWS HERE
Wonderful now.
If the young 'leaders' are not even respectful towards the judiciary, who would they respect? Sometimes, it really is no wonder and is as plain as daylight why this state is going nowhere. Leaders without any ideals, a younger generation of people who don't respect anyone.
And yes, frankly, the Communists have kind of lost the plot. And they are becoming a pain on the neck. When they rule, they do not allow progress and strike for everything, bringing the whole state to a standstill and causing people great trouble. When the Congress rules, then they pretty much do the same thing. Strike for each thing, stop progress and bring the state to a standstill. And of course they are taking a whole generation on the wrong path with the wrong leadership and pretentious ideals. Granted, we have seen some really great leaders in the party, but sadly, that does not seem to be the case anymore.

'Phone'

noreply@blogger.com (Madhavan) — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 16:34:00 +0000

She'd started calling Priya 'amma' a while back.
'Amma', I guess is always the easy part.
For all the children, it kind of naturally spurts our, so easily, so naturally, and really spontaneously.
I wonder why then, in malayalam, they invented this really tough 'Acchan' word for fathers. Tamilians have it easy - 'appa' seems easy enough.

Despite this I was really eager to hear her next word. Hoping that I would hear the magic 'cha' sometime soon.

And then yesterday, the phone rang. At the second ring, she said -'fone'. Yup, 'fone'.

I guess I understand my place at home now.