Ramblings of a recent pluviophile.

Some days you get up with a glorious sense of purpose, filled with positivity and an urge to complete all the pending tasks, take on new ones and have a productive, energized day where at the end of it you feel satisfied with the accomplishments of said day and a sense of fulfilment.

Today is NOT one of those days for me. I have them on and off, but not today.

Today is one of those days, where I want the dull overcast skies to open up and browbeat us into submission, into taking shelter and watching the rains pelt down.

Today is one of those days where I want to laze about my cosy flat, sipping endless cups of masala chai, observing the clouds pass by, munching on potato chips and surrendering myself to binge-watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S.

You, of course can see where I am going with this right!

I miss the rains. I am not a true blue pluviophile. Rather I am a recent convert.

For the longest time ever I hated the rains. Hate is a very strong word though; I just didn’t like them rains. And being from a place that worships and heralds the showers, I didn’t quite understand the whole fuss about it except that the crops and the running water depended on it.  To me, the rains were symbolic of early morning cuddling inside the bedsheet, not wanting to go to school, uniforms that never dried and the slush and mud that soaked through the shoes and socks. School always reopened after the summer vacation at the outbreak of the monsoons and it was simply uncanny how it always used to end up raining exactly around the time we had to leave for school.

But off late, I crave for these bursts. Being in a place where rains are more like ‘switch-on-switch-off’ phenomenon, I miss the monsoons back home dreadfully. In fact, my whirlwind trip this time home had a specific wish attached to it. R.A.I.N.S. And I got my wish and quite a lot of it too. :)

(C) Aishwarya Ananth

I think there is a deep bond that is attached to it, that I have discovered recently.

The smell of the earth, the feel of those first few beads hitting you squarely, the first blast of the chillness that knocks into you, the puddles, the splashes, the leaves tinged with the dewy droplets, the feet that get wet soaked through the sandals that you wear, the sense of calmness that pervades you, the beating heart that settles into the rhythm of the pitter-patters on the rooftop, the nostalgia that engulfs you, the feeling of freshness, new starts and that of washing away vestiges of despair and ire. …. I can go on and on… and of course curling up with a hot tea, a book and enjoying the rains never really hurt anyone, did it? ;) :)

(c) Aishwarya Ananth 

I understand that feeling now. The fuss that people back home make about the rainstorms. There really is no comparison, is there? I have seen and felt the rains at plenty of places. But nothing really compares to the feeling that you get when you enjoy it back at the hometown – the place that you are born and raised.

And that my dear friends, is a feeling akin to nothing else. 

Because you can't really make me stay away from a tag about books :)

Do you have a certain place at home for reading?

Nope. I have a few favourite places but I read almost everywhere :D

Bookmark or random piece of paper?

Used to be bookmarks. But now as much as I hate to admit it, dog ears :(

Can you just stop reading or do you have to stop after a chapter/a certain amount of pages?

Depends on the book honestly. If it’s highly engrossing, I keep saying to myself – just another chapter. Just one more! But otherwise I can just stop mostly after a chapter though.

Do you eat or drink while reading?

Yes! Yes!

Multitasking: Music or TV while reading?

Nope. No TV definitely. Mostly none. Sometimes music in the background.

One book at a time or several at once?

Used to be a stickler to one book at a time, but now several at once.

Reading at home or everywhere?

Everywhere :)

Reading out loud or silently in your head?

Silently in my head.

Do you read ahead or even skip pages?

I don’t ever skip pages or read ahead, but I may skim the content.

Breaking the spine or keeping it like new?

Keeping it like new of course. Breaking the spine sounds too gruesome to hear! :-/

Do you write in your books?

Sometimes.

If you could invite one author and one of their fictional characters to lunch, who would you invite and why?

Mario Puzo and Michael Corleone. Without a doubt! :) Can you imagine the conversations that can take place.

Godfather has been one of the most engrossing and one of my most favourite books of all time! It kind of heralded my start into reading bigger and better novels.

What book do you wish the author would write a prequel for?

Harry Potter. I would really like to know more about James, Lily and the gang.

Which two characters (not from the same book) would make a good couple?

Ok, I will go with my top 2 favourite characters, but I don’t really want them to be a couple.

Lisbeth Salander and Michael Corleone.

If you ran into your favourite author on the subway and only could say one sentence to them, who is it and what, would it be?

Err. I have so many of them. But if I have to go with one, I’d pick Steig Larsson and at the risk of sounding flabbergasted, I’d ask – “Lisbeth Salander?  How did you even think up of such a character! Whoa!”

What book made you a reader and why?

Oh plenty, starting right from the Tinkles, Gokulams and Champaks to the Enid Blytons, Nancy Drews, etc.

Gives me a nice escape into another world!

Incendio!
Your bookshelf just caught fire. Show the book you’d save.

Don’t you mean books? And don’t you mean shelves as well!

Which dystopian world would you want to live in if you had to choose one? Why?

The magical world of Harry Potter :)

What is your most epic read of all time?

Can’t bring myself to think of just one. I’ll go with my top 5.

Godfather – for taking me into worlds beyond Sidney Sheldon and Mary Higgins Clark

Steig Larsson – The Millennium trilogy!

Harry Potter – for providing me with an escape into a world quite unlike and unusual.

Kane and Abel – For being the first ever book I couldn’t really put down, in spite of having my board exams at the time!

Palace of Illusions – for showing me different perspectives of an epic I have come to love.

When the mind goes a-wandering…

Sometimes I miss home. Mostly those days when I am feeling a bit under the weather and sick. But those are the times that I crave for Amma’s cuddle or Appa’s fretfulness at what might just be a headache.

Days when I am bogged down at work, or I feel unbelievable amounts of stress for no particular reason, my mind starts wandering. I reminisce about Kalam. About old childhood memories.

Have I told you about Kalam?

It was this large family home where I and Achu spent the better part of our childhood.  The house is no longer standing; we razed it down as it was getting difficult to maintain it, what with the termites and other small reptiles making it their home. But it was such a beautiful sprawling house. I make it a point to visit it every time I am at Palghat. A walk through the winding trails, through the bushes, an almost dry canal, into the rubber trees, and back to the base finishing off with an elaneer or two, is a standing practice these days. I have very fond memories of the place.

Appa’s Rajdoot bike parked in a corner.  Sargent our dog, who used to  make himself comfortable beside the bike.  Achu wearing my blue frock and coming down the stairs at Kalam.  Amma chasing us all around the house with books in one hand, trying to make us sit and study.  Ammamma holding a long stick in her hands, trying to hunt down the snake that appeared in the store-room amidst the dry coconut husks.  Sahadevan’s auto.  The Chembaka tree in front and the smell of the flowers. The Krishna idol that stands tall and the bench where Thatha used to sit.  The parrot cage hanging in front of the pillars outside with the cawing of the bird and me trying to teach the bird to sing / talk / repeat after me. Skinned knees from the trips down to the ‘parakulam’.  Amma wrapping me and Achu in one big towel after our baths.  The huge Aatukattil in the hall.  The cool floors inside where Thatha used to lie down in the afternoons and let us kids climb all over him.  The office rooms at the end of each side where chithappa and thatha sat doing their work.  The bell that Thatha jangled when he did the poojai.  The old bathrooms with their creaky taps.  The naripaarai where foxes used to come at night.  The attic where one had to crawl up a flight of stairs, almost like transporting us into a fabled other world.  The bats that used to be seen in the attic sometimes.  The granary inside the house where they used to store rice and other items.  The thair-kadayal that happened religiously every day.  The vadaams and koozhumaavu that Ammamma dried on the terrace.  The rubber sheets and the smokehouse.  The cowshed and the cows that grazed around.  The chakkai’s during the season. And the mambazhams. The elaneer that Sahadevan prised off the coconut trees. The bilvam leaves. The odds and ends, nooks and crannies, the water tanks. The rubber trees. The canal that ran by the side of it. The ball badminton ground. The Vishnu temple.

You know how they say; you never know value of what you have until you lose it?

Kalam for me is an example of that. Sometimes I wish the place was still there or that we had kept it and maintained it for what it was worth. 

I wish I was there now.

At Kalam. Or at least what’s left of it.  

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Translations: 

elaneer - tender coconut juice, chembaka - champak tree, aatukattil - traditional swinging bed, naripaarai - fox hillock (literal translation), thayir-kadayal - churning of the milk to get curd, chakkai - jackfruit, mambazham- mangoes, paarakulam - rock pond. 

Of Simpler times. Simpler Lives.

She stepped out of the hotel and looked up at the sky. A clear cloudless day. The sun was streaming down unflinchingly on the tourists. Big floppy hats, oversized sunglasses and tubes of sunscreen were all she could see on most of the tourists around. This was actually the best time of the year to visit Thailand, when the days were sultry and the nights were cool. It sometimes rained in the evenings but overall there was a pleasant breeze that was present all throughout. Today however, was a different story. She took measured steps towards the gully-like road towards the beach. A few more yards and she would lose the hotel Wi-Fi connection. She sent off a message to her folks, then looked around, ignoring the hawkers peddling their wares. And it was then that this caught her eye.

It instantly transported her to those days when she was a young brat, begging for rides in her great-aunt’s vintage fiat. The military green colour. The hardened seats. The window that you had to struggle with all your might to roll down. But all said and done, the car had that old-worldly charm. Her childhood was filled with many a ride in that car. Summer vacations back then were fun. Her entire brood of cousins would land up at her grandmother’s place and afternoons would be spent at her great-aunts’ place, lying down on the cool floors that were sprinkled with some water, listening to the stories that her aunt told about the golden days when they were kids and how simple life used to be back then. Pestering her aunt, while the latter went on her medical rounds, taking on some house visits, struggling all the while to keep quiet and not create a racket, as bored as she got, for she knew the rewards lay at the end of the ride. Sometimes, it was those orange candies or lemon candies, sometimes it was vanilla ice cream, and if she was really really good, she would be treated with one of those cassata bars. Simple life. Of no expectations and no worries. There was always someone to get her back and people to fall back on. The only biggest worry then was whether the skinned knee would hurt when she had a bath or if she would get the lion’s share of her grand mom’s famous fried potatoes. Simpler times. Simpler lives.

She felt the phone in her hand vibrate. Jolted out of the blue, she saw her dad’s message asking her to be safe and not to roam around after dark. She put the phone in her bag, and walked off to the beach. The sunset was just a few minutes away. It was one of the other things that soothed her mind. The nostalgia coupled with the homesickness brought on by the message heightened the urge to head back home.

She promised to herself. Soon. Soon.

Funny how random things could trigger off hidden memories and calm the mind.

Sometimes it was a stray word, sometimes the tune of a long-forgotten song, and sometimes a vintage car :)

When self-doubt hits!

I skipped the blogs for the last two days.

I had no specific reason. I am not going to give any excuses or apologize for that. I can vouch for the fact that I am no big writer neither am I so brilliant that people wait to read my blogs. At the most, I am average. Sometimes I write well, sometimes I don’t. So even when I started this blogathon, I had this niggling doubt in mind, that I was not really going to write to my satisfaction. And that doubt was reaffirmed when it was pointed out that I wasn’t doing any favours to my writing by doing something and writing something every day on the lines of “I don’t know what to post”  .. “I have no idea what to write” etc. The old me would have just taken those words to heart and would have just quit. I would have thought to myself, yes they are right! I am not doing this!!

But now, I want to write. I still want to finish this blogathon. I know those two days are going to hang over my head, but I still want to do this. Pig-headedness as some might call it. But I don’t want to quit this. I don’t want to let this go like how I let go of the other things that I started so easily. And every time these days when I get that doubt, there is other quote that comes to mind – “The worst thing you write is better than the best thing you didn’t write!!” – It’s what I posted on the first blog I wrote for the blogathon. That reaffirms me. :D

So today I will share with you something I wrote a long while back. During one of those dark phases. It is a very abstract piece. It’s something that I wrote in a span of a few moments a few years ago. Tidbits that I write, save and don't find the courage to publish! :) I don't really remember what made me write this, probably must be one of those black moods. 

Here goes…

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“There is a morbid pleasure that we as humans derive in subjecting ourselves to abject misery.

That feeling of martyrdom that elevates in ourselves a feeling of superiority.

The feeling that because we are so miserable; we are in a much loftier position than the rest of the world that is happily cocooned in their contented lives.

After all what do they know of what suffering we have undergone and how it has transformed us into what we are today as opposed to what we were before this so-called misery was thrust upon us. 

Who could say how we might have ended up had we not been through so much!

All of us are broken in that sort of way. Some take a long time to recoup. For some others it’s just a matter of time. And for sometimes very rarely, it is quick and painless when they meet the right person(s). That of course depends on whether you find the right person and you recognize them to be so.

Various moments. Various right kinds of people.

Right for then, at that point of time.

Wrong for other times.

Half the time I think what happens is that you make do with what you have and forget the quest for what you want.

And therein lies the difference.”

On the eve of the Year of the Monkey!

Its day 7 of the month and the 2^nd day of the long weekend.

Remember how excited I was about the long weekend coming up and 4 days of holidays and all that, now I am raring to get back to my work! Yes! The same conundrum! The fact that the grass is always greener on the other side.

The thing about staying in a place long enough (in my case – 6+ years) is that you have seen all that there is to be seen, done all that there is to be done and now there is nothing to do. And the other thing about staying in the world’s most expensive city is that the minute you step out of the house you end up spending at the very least 10$ … sometimes there is nothing called self-control. Case in point today evening, I stepped out in the evening with friends and ended up buying a pair of tan coloured pants of which I had no need!! My justification to self was that new clothes I can always end up using! :P Sigh! Yes! I know.

But like I was saying, the thing about staying in a place too long is that everything apart from regular or even impromptu shopping is ‘been there and done that’!! Oh, I can hear you saying that why did you go out of Singapore somewhere. This is just one of those times that none of the plans materialized. Next long weekend, wait and watch this space ;-) I have big plans!! But coming back to Singapore, especially on the eve of Chinese New Year, when everything is closed. 90% of the shops in the mall we went today to were shut! This was at 7 in the evening! And as far as going out and partying is concerned, I would rather end up settling in bed with a nice book and all snuggled up inside my quilt. The days of pulling a night-outer are well past. Oh the perils of growing old ;) :P

And now I have no idea how to end this post. Do I go on and on about how boring Singapore is on long weekends, or do I go on about how things change as soon as you hit the 30s. I think I just got an idea for my next blog post ;)

And as for this one, I think I will end it by wishing you all …..

A VERY HAPPY GONG XI FA CAI AND A HAPPY YEAR OF THE MONKEY! :)

Stay happy and stay blessed! :) :)

Bangalore Naatkal - A review!!!

Today's blog post is a review of 'Bangalore Naatkal' - the remake of the acclaimed 'Bangalore Days'.

Straight up, let me tell you that I have seen Bangalore Days umpteen times. It was one of a kind movie in Malayalam and I regard it to be a classic. So huge huge fan right here. I think that the casting was perfect in that movie and I loved every little bit of it. Every single nuance and dialogue and scene.

When I heard about it being remade in Tamil, I wasn't really very enthused about the entire thing. Why take something already very good and try to make it better. But then I had seen Paapanasam, the remake of Drishyam and I was very impressed. So I thought OK.  This should be good as well.

Unfortunately for me,  and please don't think that I'm being biased here, this one is quite annoying. Quite a lot of things  were annoying.

1) Bobby Simha's wig. And why would they choose him to play Nivin Pauly.  Total miscast right there.

2) Arya's selfie stick. Very very annoying.

3) Lakshmi Rai or Raai however she writes it. The reason that Isha Talwar with Nivin Pauly worked was because of their earlier pairing in Thattathin Marayathu. There was a history there that the director utilised so well. This one is a total total failure. Plus she looks OLD.

4) Basically the only good thing about the movie was Parvathy who reprised her role as RJ  Sarah.

5) Prakash Raj was wasted in his role.

I think I have said enough. I now shudder to think what the state of Premam would be. I hear that Shruti Hassan is playing Malar. I don't think I am going to watch it.

Honestly why twist a tried and tested formula!!!

Now am planning to watch Bangalore Days again to get over this !!!