A no frills drink in a no frills airline.

Recently Dubai launched its very own low cost carrier or more euphemistically called a ‘budget airline’ or more relevant 'Austerity Airline' Fly Dubai. A no frills airline with in flight buying option which tempt the hell out of you. The products were so wonderfully displayed in their in-flight magazine called very aptly 'Fly Buy Dubai'.

While browsing through it during my maiden 45 minute flight, what impressed me was the beverages section of their in-flight catering services…keeping a short flight in mind they had a tailor made menu…pre mixed canned Bacardi & Coke and premixed Gin & tonic were on offer… (Sometimes Coke and Tonic can cost more than your drink)what better to up the spirits of a tired business traveller in a 45 min flight. A quickie of sorts… Or as they say in my native tongue a 'Nippan' (Having a quick drink standing in a bar) just that in this case it was a 'parappan' ( A drink while having a quick flight)

The flamboyance of simplicity

Back after a hiatus and the inspiration to return to the blogosphere with my thoughts were 2 print adds I saw recently in a business magazine.

One was titled the ‘Power of Simplicity’ and went on to mention that ‘simplicity might be hard to achieve but it’s worth the effort’. They might have been referring to the simplicity of its design but the product itself was no symbol of simplicity. The brand name and simplicity could not even be linked oxymoronically.

The product was a car and the brand was the Rolls Royce, Ghost.



Flip a couple of pages in the same magazine and viola!!! You have the image of one of the simplest men the world has known, endorsing one of the most premium of brands. What more, they have even launched a limited edition series in tribute to his words?

It is an irony that there are many an anecdotes in the life of Gandhi looking for a small piece of pencil gifted to him by a child, and another one about sending his grandson to look for an even smaller one which was thrown away. The irony was the product that was endorsed was also an or rather THE writing instrument…A Mont Blanc limited edition pen.



Was just wondering whether in these trying times even the most expensive of brands were taking the simplicity/austerity route…’a feel no guilt when you splurge’ approach.

Tryst with the late thirties…

I came face to face (or was it head on) with this moment of revelation at my neighbourhood barber’s (oops Hair stylists). I was offered one more service at the end of my hair cut, by my barber, ‘Sir, Do you want a Hair Dye / Colouring get done?’ and he had the cheek to follow it up with a recommendation on hair transplants …and the likes.

I realised for the first time that I was on the wrong side of the thirties!!! Or atleast my head was…

Well not really the first time… during the last few haircuts I have been realising it…The remnants of my locks that were being chopped off that fell on the white cloth adorning me were getting greyer. The greys had begun to outnumber the blacks…Shades of wisdom I comforted myself. The time spent at the barbers chair is one of introspection…and with the question that I was confronted today I knew that reality had dawned or rather the age had begun to dusk on me…

Well, when I entered my thirties I was subtle in mentioning my age and would say I was thirty something…I just realised I am thirty ‘more than something…’

Some wasted lines on the waist line…

Gone are the days when necklines and hemlines hogged the limelight, the boys not wanting to be left behind gave the world their own line the low waist line.

A school in Delhi has recently pulled up a boy for sporting a low waist line and displaying with pride the brand of his underwear. When I think of it I get a strange feeling that the whole low- waist trousers concept took shape in the design rooms of the underwear manufacturers.

The reason being, a brand is recognised when it’s seen, unfortunately in the case of under garments they were always hidden. Hence the brand value was only spread by word of mouth or seen in privacy. What better way to get brand recognition than to lower the piece of cloth covering the all important elastic with the brand printed on it. Towering hoardings with Dara Singh sporting it was the only advertisement possible, but now you have an entire generation walking around displaying it proudly. That’s some mileage.

I have seen several designs of trousers evolve and die during my growing years. The Narrow bottoms, the bell bottoms or the Elephant Ear Bottoms some had even a zipper stitched at the bottom for protection against wear due to constant abrasion with the road, the baggy, the multiple pleated designs…I’ve personally worn and loved most of it. But none of them ever crossed the line of decency / obscenity. But the low waist stuff that’s in vogue is the most ridiculous of all designs I have ever seen.

Lochinvar in Bollywood...

One of my all time favorite poems Lochinvar by Sir Walter Scott, a poem set in the 18th & 19th century actually foretold the storyline of many a Bollywood blockbusters of the 21st century. Let me take you into a journey from one century to another, for a change we are not talking about Sachin Tendulkar…

(Lets start with Shahrukh Khan in Pardes…)
H! young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;
And save his good broadsword he weapons had none.
He rode all unarmed and he rode all alone.
So faithful in love and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.

(The second stanza reminds me of Aamir Khan in Qayamat se Qayamat tak)
He stayed not for brake and he stopped not for stone,
He swam the Eske river where ford there was none,
But ere he alighted at Netherby gate The bride had consented, the gallant came late:
For a laggard in love and a dastard in war
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

(Now moving to Salman Khan in Hum Aapke Hai Kaun)
So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all:
Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,--
For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,-- '
Oh! come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?'--

(Amrish Puri and Shahrukh Khan in Dil Wale Dulhanya le Jayinge)
'I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied;
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide--
And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.'


(Kuch Kuch Hota Hai…)
The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up,
He quaffed off the wine, and she threw down the cup,
She looked down to blush, and he looked up to sigh,
With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand ere her mother could bar,--
'Now tread we a measure!' said young Lochinvar.

(Kuch Kuch Hota Hai contd.)
So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a galliard did grace;
While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;
And the bride -- maidens whispered ''Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.'
One touch to her hand and one word in her ear,
When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near;
So light to the coupe the fair lady he swung,
So light to the saddle before her he sprung!
'She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;
They'll have fleet steeds that follow,' quoth young Lochinvar.

(The car chase climax …. Typical of any last scene from a Bollywood blockbuster…)
There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan;
Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran:
There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee,
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
So daring in love and so dauntless in war,
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?

Judgement Day

An interesting day of judicial ramifications of various cases from an AAM AADMI point of view… A Killing Confession, A Verdict on the fast lane, and an Adjournment that was all gas…all in a day

To start with the famed Ajmal Amer Kasab confessed to his crime, not quiet sure if it was out of duress at the thought of going thro the long Indian judicial system. He in fact went to the extent of telling the court to punish him and close the case. Very thoughtful of him. If it happens this could be a huge relief on the exchequer and also a closure of a high profile case in record time. Both a rarity in the Indian judicial system, Thanks to Kasab, atleast something to thank him for.

The verdict on the high profile grandson of an even more high profile grandfather driving a coveted 3 lettered car and mopping down 6 people was reduced from 5 years in prison to 2 years…Culpable homicide not amounting to murder becomes causing death by negligence…funny are the ways of the Indian penal code. Negligence not amounting to culpable homicide which in turn not amounting to murder. So when driving, you can afford to be negligent but never commit culpable homicide, the difference is 3 years…

Finally the battle of the brothers won an adjournment, the adjournment was not the fun part it was the respective lawyers of the brothers that left me rolling in laughter. 2 iconic names in the Indian judiciary were engaged in a war of words…You know where?? No not the court room but on media. In fact I have heard both of them shun the media more than oft and advocating the importance of keeping the media out of judicial system. Here one was vying with the other for media space to voice their respective allegiance to the ‘Brothers in ARMS’.

Just Beat it stopped beating...

MJ is no more...Jacko was a legend but somewhere on the road to fame and glory the legendary Jacko became a whacko, he sang ''it doesnt matter if you are black or white' but still changed from black to white. A great musician who folks of my gen grew up listening / gyrating to... inspired a whole new genre of performers. He pioneered the concept of a singer being a performer / entertainer. The king of pop died in near penury, strange are the ways of the world or was it his own undoing?

The man who gave the world the 'moon walk' has begun his long walk to the moon and beyond.

Allan Stanford... Then & Now

Whether its warming the lap or cooling the heels... This man's got women helping him out...

The Empire & Imperial Plunder

Got to read this nice article this morning...Out Sourcing Unrest, By George Monbiot

Im sure our ancestors are all nodding in agreement in the graves...

Return of the prodigal...

Haven’t been around for a while now. The prodigal blogger returns. The last few weeks I bit into the apple and flirted with the social networking sites (FB) and its lil chirpy cousin Twitter. Since every one I knew, were on FB and Twitter and was told that these are the 2 most happening places to be in or rather be ‘signed’ in…I didn’t want to look a pariah & got myself registered on both, for a been there! done that! feeling. Did I enjoy it??? Though I don’t have a definitive answer yet, I don’t think I will like it as much as I like my blogging. The letter restrictions kill me in Twitter…One liners are fun when cracked in real not typed virtually and on FB you end up discussing on topics as mundane as a ‘Yawn’ to as abstract as the trajectory of an electron. Or as a friend quiet rightly put it as an electron talking to itself…Electron Monologues definitely sounds boring when compared to Vaginal Monologues…
Somehow all this virtual stuff is kinda killing me… I need a break and the REAL me needs to sit across a REAL table or under a REAL tree with a REAL friend or more and have a REAL drink or 2 or 3 and TALK…I mean talk and not type…

The Commons beat the Lords at the Lords.

I learnt tonight that cricket is certainly the game of glorious uncertainties. The Dutch beat the Brits at Cricket. Calls for an undertaker’s requiem for English cricket. Until tonight the only sportsperson I remember from the Netherlands was Rudd Gullit more for his hairdo than for his game.

One more revelation tonight was that Test Match is the only form of Cricket that separates the men from the boys. We had the 50 over One day game that came about in the early 70’s but by 1983 the boys proved they were faster learners than men… could they sustain it??? No. They couldn’t and they haven’t repeated it since. Similarly in 2007 in the 20-20 versions the boys proved that they could pull it off but can they sustain it, is the question. Tonight it was proved that, shorter the stage, the even the playing field…Upsets are bound to happen and Cricket will soon move from a game of strategies and fundamentals to simply a game of chance. The bookies will rule. Wonder what the odds were tonight in favour of the Dutch. But that does not mean that the Dutch didn’t play better Cricket than England, they were spectacular on the field. But they had to put in their best only for less than a 'session' in Test Cricket parlance. The performance was ephemeral not an enduring one. But 20-20 is all about ephemeral performances isn’t it?

Let the wham bam version of cricket bring in many more upsets. Incidentally I was on Heineken tonight supporting the Dutch hope I’m not on some Bangla drink tomorrow and watch India get trashed by the Bangladeshis.

GM files for bankruptcy

Just happened to click on the GM corporate website and found this 'says it all image' on their website pop up. The speedometer showing 0 mph. Sad to see an iconic manufacturer like GM coming to a halt.

Tiger, Tiger burning bright …not anymore

Seeing images of the all elusive Velupillai Prabhakaran’s dead body being beamed on television brought to memory one of William Blake poems, albeit the Tiger lying dead was a self proclaimed one.

Tiger, Tiger, burning bright
In the forest of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

Ironically he did not possess the ‘fearful symmetry’ but had a rather pleasing personality.

Talking of Tamils in Lanka, 2 names come to your mind almost immediately, one is Vellupillai Prabhakaran and the other is Muttiah Muralidharan. Let’s hope and pray the bloody era in the history of Sri Lanka is over and there’s peace and harmony among all communities and ethnic groups. Sri Lankan government should take a cue from their cricket team which has as its members men from different religious and ethnic backgrounds. Let Sri Lanka prove to the world by producing many more Muttiah Muralidharans.

Unfolding of Verdict 2009…

As they say, politics is always pregnant with possibilities, but in the coming day or 2 the Indian media will turn self styled midwives to facilitate a premature delivery of Indian democracy’s baby – The Verdict 2009. They will be abuzz with jargons like exit polls, analysis, swings, vote shares, anti and pro incumbency and what not.

The final countdown is on; if astrologers played a part in the pre election phase its now the turn of numerologist, psephologists and even equine lovers….equine lovers???… yeah not the thorough bred Arabian ones but the not so bred Indian politicians will be traded as Horses.

Definition of Horse trading from wikepedia, in the original sense, the buying and selling of horses, also called "Horse Dealing". Due to the great difficulties of evaluating the merits or demerits of a horse offered for sale, the selling of horses offered great opportunities for dishonesty. It was not to be expected that the sellers of horses would fail to capitalize on these opportunities; thus those who dealt in horses have always had a reputation for shady business practices.

We are in an era where we have the tools and the means to evaluate the merits and demerits of our politicians, but for some strange reason they are still being branded along with the horses and will be traded like them. But horses are graceful animals; the behaviour of our politicians in the coming couple of days will be a far cry from the well bred equine fraternity.

By the dawn of 17th May a picture will emerge on who beds whom and for how long and on what conditions in our great Indian democracy for the next five years, provided carefully worded pre nuptials are drafted and signed.

You & I will watch yet another government take shape and rule over us…life will go on… but let’s just pray and hope that once the sleeping arrangements are in place they finally decide to run the family responsibly and not just live in with no commitments.

A tribute to Besant Nagar’s famous Singh…

I was informed by a friend in Chennai about the demise of Mr. Daljeeti Singh of Cozee and this blog is a tribute to him.

For all of you who are familiar with the Besant Nagar beach of the yesteryears when it was quieter and only frequented by the neighbourhood folks, the most familiar joint for a bite or a coffee has been ‘Cozee’ - the beach side eatery on 6th Avenue. And Daljeeti who owns it was always a part of the shop running the show until the wee hours of the morning.

The hot cheese samosas were one of his specialities and was normally downed with shared ‘quarters’ at the end of each semester exams and also on the day of the results (One to revel in joy and the other to drown the sorrow). The morning after and all other days it was just coffee. He was very hospitable or patient I should say with folks like me who probably spent hours with friends occupying his table and all that we ordered was a cup of coffee each.

Though swanky outlets which are ‘cosier’ have sprung up in recent years, having a cup of coffee at the Cozee is a ritual I tend to follow each time I visit India.

Daljeeti even featured in one of Chennai Trivia questions that go thus.….

Daljeeti Singh, also known as Badshah Singh for his role in a Rajni movie, opened which restaurant in 1985?

Cozee


May his soul rest in peace…

Dravid - The Wall fortified...

The wham-bam-thank-you-mam version of Cricket just proved that though cricket might be a game of glorious uncertainties, irrespective of the version… class defies age and even certain principles of uncertainty.

Day one of IPL had 2 upsets as far as the team performance goes but as far as individual performance is concerned it fell in line with my thinking that legends are ones who can adapt to any terrain & conditions. Sachin, Dravid, Saurav, Laxman and Kumble where not born legends but took the stairway to legend hood.

However, the elevator and escalator bound team owners of the IPL who were pioneers at acting, building cities and airports, making cement, spinning yarns, publishing stories and even brewing liquor and flying planes at the same time fell well short of identifying, recognising or for that matter appreciating cricketing brilliance.

One man said it all tonight…after a brilliant 66 of 48 balls Dravid said that ‘such trying conditions favour ‘boys’ like us who play proper cricketing shots’… Even the erstwhile Mallya might not have noticed the subtle sarcasm in that statement. Dravid played like a man possessed out to prove a point to his critics. And he did it in style…

I might have jumped the gun in going all out in praise just after one performance but a seasoned cricket fan knows that this innings was one that is to be treasured for years to come. One of the commentators even wondered if he could ever get to see the repeat of a spectacular cover drive by Dravid in the remaining 59 games of the IPL.

It was a day when we saw two 36 year olds and a 39 year old from India and a 40 year old Aussie prove that age rarely matters in the shortest version of the game. Some crafty spin bowling by 2 veterans and a fine display of drives by 2 legendary batsmen…. what more can fans ask for.

Unfortunately I sense that good cricket is on the road to extinction, since the advent of the all new term ‘cricketainment’ which certainly has ‘tainted’ classical cricket. Cricket in all its glory was entertainment enough but today it is appreciated only when the kookaburra ball is airborne and sails over the boundary lines for a maximum which in turn is appreciated by gyrating maidens with plunging necklines and even shorter hemlines, which unfortunately is as important as bowling a 'maiden over'.

Indian political baptism of Shashi Tharoor.

Shashi Tharoor was the pride of Indians and in particular the Malayalees around the globe including me, not so long ago, a serious contender for the UN Secretary General post, unfortunately his stars were not quiet aligned and was ‘Banned by the Moon’. There ended his long innings with the UN and was homeward bound to test the political pastures of his motherland armed with a half baked knowledge of his own mother tongue.

He plunged head on into the Indian Political scene and more so into Kerala politics claiming to be a son of the soil. Managed to get a ticket from the largest nationalist party of India for the Trivandrum seat much to the ire of his cadres who were probably seeing him for the first time in the city. He did try the nostalgia / roots factor in his campaigns but in my opinion he underestimated the political wisdom of the citizens of Kerala, a state where Political astuteness and Political sense are natural inborn traits of its citizens.

I happened to see a program in one of the channels where they interviewed a couple of people from the lower strata of society in Trivandrum who had simply not heard of one Shashi Tharoor but confirmed that they would vote for the ‘Palm’ Symbol. Well such hardcore devotions to a party might carry him through which I doubt very much since the overall polling percentage in TVM was much lower than most of the regions in the state.

Of late you see a great many educated socialites throwing their hat into the ring, which as Dr. Manmohan Singh rightly said will only act as spoilers in this election. I’m also of the same opinion. Well there are so many better ways that the Shashi Tharoors, The Meera Sanyals, The Gopinaths and the Sarath Babus could have been service to the nation rather than seeking mandate from the people before having proved to them they were one among them.

Founding a low cost airline, contesting the highest position in the UN, being a private banker or even being the protagonist son of rags to riches story of an Idli vendor is not going to draw the voters in this great Indian democracy. Sure all of them might be better bets to our corrupt politicians but what all of them have failed to understand is that change does not happen overnight. Change cannot be brought about by an individual but by a movement. They should have concentrated on creating a movement rather than testing their own popularity. In a democracy it’s a movement that matters and not an individual. If it was an individual that mattered then an autocracy or a dictatorship would have long replaced the great Indian Democracy.

Shashi Tharoor made a better effort by aligning himself to the biggest National Party but unfortunately he simply did not realise that New York to Kowdiar is a long way. I’m no psephologist but I’m sure he will not win. If he does win then it would certainly be an aberration on the most politically literate state in India.

It was only a Padma ‘Sri’ not a Padma ‘Sir’.

Skipping the Padma function by the skipper of the Indian Cricket Team and his trusted team-mate Harbhajan hasn’t gone well with the Indian public, the bureaucracy or me.

Well, would they have done the same had they been invited by the Queen of England to kneel in front of her for being conferred the title of a ‘SIR’, definitely not ...so why this casual approach to ‘SRI’. Guess being paraded down the streets of Cape Town like glorified slaves bought for a couple of millions of US$$$ was more heady than an honour from the Head of State of the largest democracy in the world.

Well these are days when one of the Bollywoods best known Khans pays his way to collect ‘Datukhood’ from Malaysia but there were also days when good old Indian Cricketers refused the Knighthood and a set of contemporary Indian cricketing legends of the likes of Dravid, Kumble and Tendulkar made it a point to collect their Padma awards personally.

If I may borrow a piece from one of my favourite Ayn Rands….’Money, my friend is the root cause of all evil’- Howard Roark

Untouchability in Royalty

When Michelle Obama hugged (or rather put an arm around) the Queen of England it became a controversy. I’m surprised what rights / credential do the Brit press have in commenting on the untouchability in India when they claim that touching the Queen was a breach of Royal Protocol.
Check out the link to find out more on what happened

Pappu can’t stand...

The title refers to the recent ruling that Pappu Yadav cant contest the elections due to his ‘track’ records.. Well I drew inspiration for this title from the recently popular bollywood number ‘Pappu can’t dance’. Talking of Bollywood many of them are in the fray this elections. One says his father died because of the Congress Party while his sibling says his father died for the Congress party. Sibling rivalry coupled with some grammatical conflicts between ‘for’ and ‘because’ makes this election interesting.

I’m back to this blog after a hiatus; the reason being was busy and didn’t find reasons enough to pen (type) a story. But finally couldn’t resist the temptation of the Great Indian Democracy on the threshold of exercising its franchise.

A Gandhi behind bars and shifted bars (as in Jails) in the meantime for having batted for Hindutva when his grandfather’s name was Feroze and he himself was half Parsi and Half Sikh… a Dutt who carried out a sting on a Union minister and a Pappu who cant neither dance nor stand in this elections where inspirations enough for this blog.

It was a MONTH in which you saw all about the ‘HOW NOT BE A DEMOCRACY’ basics being displayed. Young kids off the block churn out speeches on dismembering other humans and whip up communal passion; couple of Avatomov Kalashnikov fans are denied tickets. All this happens when a former Under Secretary to the United Nations is also in the race but pulled up by our now famous Public Interest Litigation enthusiasts for having asked people to sing the anthem from their heart. Funny country this!!!

The media makes its money by analysing all of the above in programs titled the ‘The buck stops here’ when they clearly know that the buck never stops here nor there but just gets passed on.

Kudos to the Election Commission in their effort to carry out one of the most challenging tasks in one of the biggest democracy in the world. Let’s hope every one of us makes use of our rights to exercise our franchise and return the most efficient and honest leaders to the parliament to lead this country.

Begging in Beverly Hills...

A woman shows a sign saying “Please Help, Pregnant, Hungry and Homeless” as she begs for money near Beverly Hills in Los Angeles. Federal Reserve chairman Ben Bernanke predicted that America’s worst recession in decades likely will end this year, and that the economic recovery would gather steam next year.

Who said Beverly Hills was all about life on the High Street??? Its also about life on the streets!!!

Gandhi going... going... gone...

Well Gandhi was on auction this week…oops sorry Gandhi’s ‘legacy’ was on auction this week, His spectacles, his footwear and his bowl and plate. It was really unfortunate to see the Indian media make a spectacle of Gandhi’s spectacles.

The Father of the nation whom we remember two days in a year of which one of those dates is remembered solely for the reason that the wine shops are closed on that day. All of a sudden Gandhi mania has gripped the nation with TV channels playing good old patriotic songs and showing black and white images of Gandhi.

It took a clown like James Otis to rekindle our paternal patriotism. It was not the 2nd of October nor was it the 30th of January it was just the 5th of March when the so called legacy of Gandhi was about to come under the hammer. What an irony for a man of non violence to come under the hammer. Well it was not exactly the man but his belongings, his frail looking spectacles, his modest cutlery and his not so designer footwear were owned by an American who was holding the country of a billion sentimental fools and hundreds of sycophant politicians to ransom. The timing chosen by Otis was so perfect. The election dates were announced and no politician from left, right or centre would dare not support the Gandhian legacy.

So Mr. James Otis held a government to ransom, he dictated how our budget should look like and what our defence spending should be and the very fact that we were sending our representatives to discuss the draft of his proposal was making a mockery of the sovereignty of a nation.

He wanted India to value healthcare over defence expenses. If only I got a chance to auction off a presidential semen stained skirt of an intern this would be my statement to Mr Otis. ‘I wish America valued family values over wars on terror.’

But as I write this blog there has been a twist to the tale. Vijay Mallya the liquor and the aviation baron from India has bided successfully the Gandhi ‘valuables’ for 1.8 Mio USD. It was executed in true Gandhian spirit of non confrontation but had an American capitalistic overtone to it by simply buying it out for a price. It was an irony that a man who has seen zero revenue for a day every year on Gandhi’s birth anniversary had to rescue the Gandhi legacy.

As I always say… strange are the ways of the world. Cheers Mallya …

Terror in Cricket

The last time I heard this phrase was a couple of decades back when the erstwhile West Indian fearsome foursome of Roberts, Holding, Garner and Marshal were bowling with the new ball to any team in the world.

I heard this phrase again this week in a different context. It was real terror armed with grenades, AK 47’s and even rocket launchers encountering cricketers who were like ‘sitting ducks’ in a bus in the heart of Lahore. I’m not sure if Murali would have collected one of those grenades and bowled it back as a doosra to one of the terrorists. But jokes apart what happened was possibly the first attack on sportsmen after the Munich Olympics.

The only gainers were the media because the two biggest TRP earners, terror and cricket had finally merged and they did not have to look for separate time slots for the two. It was kind of a double whammy for the media.

I’m happy for the Sri Lankan team and sad for the six policemen who lost their lives protecting the cricketers.

The changing face (Phase) of life in the Gulf

Well this is the most common image of the life in Gulf that has been floating around for years now. In fact I got a copy of this when I first landed in the gulf, I laughed at it then and said that I would leave this place much before I was 'stupid'. But here Iam having out lived all of these images.

Whats next I wonder????

Right to die or is it Rights to death…

India would not have heard of one Jade Goody hadn’t it been for a Shilpa Shetty who shot to fame literally crying foul on Goody. In fact she attained greater fame than all her bollywood flicks put together after crying her way to fame in the reality show Big Brother.

This small (big) time reality star is going through a personal tragedy and she continues to look at it through the reality eye. The concept of reality entertainment reached the abyss for all reasons when Jade Goody suffering from a terminal illness announced that she would sell the rights to her wedding, the last days of her life and even the rights to her death, Death for sale!!! Unfathomable!!! She has since retracted on the same. But there’s never supply without demand, it might be true that Goody wanted to sell but the fact that people were around to buy the rights to her death or even negotiate it for a sum… is rather appalling. Has the human race become a bunch of predators? Predators that would go any length to nourish on sleaze, privacy and gossip.

She has defended her actions by saying that she was securing the future of her sons with the revenue out of some real time show of suffering. She has in fact dehumanised herself and made a mockery of Life, Death and even the Creator.

O death where is thy sting!!!

And the Oscar goes to…

In fact it kept going to the underdog ‘Slum Dog Millionaire’. The heart rooted for India but the mind kept telling me well this is not a 100 % Indian movie. A kind of Indian Made Foreign Liquor (IMFL) version of a movie. It made me think why is that we go over the top when there is something that is India-inspired, or India-linked, or a India-backdrop but are always sceptical about anything that is indigenous or 100% Indian and world recognition is hard to come by especially in the tinsel world. If Slum Dog Millionaire could win this many Oscars why didn’t a Lagaan or a Kalaa Paani. Slum Dog portrayed the other India through the eyes of a Brit while movies like Lagaan or a Kaala Paani was a portrayal of the dark colonial days through the eyes of an Indian. Some questions probably will remain unanswered. Well let’s enjoy the moment for what it is now.

Looks like people with uncommon monikers like Omanakuttan and Pookutty are the flavour of the season. The acceptance speech by Resul Pookuty was what impressed me the most, a speech that underlined the cultural diversity of India. Resul said and I quote ‘’I come from a country and civilization that gave the world the word that precedes silence and is followed by more silence. That word is 'Om', he continued ‘’I dedicate this award to my country. This is not just a sound award but a piece of history that has been handed over to me,” Those were some words of wisdom from the man of sound. The mallu community will soon stake claims to their son of the soil but it’s a shame that it took a Danny Boyle all the way from Manchester to fetch him the laurel. And by the way he is yet to make his debut in a Malayalam movie.

Strange are the ways of the world…A R Rahman is from a state which not so long ago were seen as anti Hindi but here he was holding the most important trophy for a Hindi song and spoke in Tamil in his acceptance speech. Suddenly I could sense the bhai bhai feeling or simply put the world was really getting flat. Oh what a great leveler music is. Congrats to the entire Slum dog Team but still waiting for a day when a 100 % Indian produced, directed and cast movie will go on to win an Oscar.

The Surangani Song...

If at all there was a song that spoke of cross cultural healing then it is Surangani the Sinhalese song which made its way into the hearts and tongue of every Tamilian. A song that was a regular fixture in any bus carrying a bunch of School children or College folks on an excursion or for that matter even a general family picnic. As the bus passed by carrying the revellers one could savour the trails of Surangani…reverberate in your ears.

Last night I googled it up and made my seven year old daughter listen to it and believe it or not, I found her humming to the tunes of Surangani this morning as soon as she woke up. For all you lovers of this song please find below the link to the Sinhalese version and the oldest known Tamil version. As they say ensoooy!!!

Surangani - Sinhalese

Surangani -Tamil

‘Barber’ ruffles up quite a lot of hair…

The recent uproar over the term Barber in the movie ‘Billu Barber’ being derogatory is incomprehensible. I thought until recently I visited a barber shop and have been doing so since the time the locks of hair on my head needed a trim. Though I should admit that barber shops in India have witnessed an image makeover in keeping with the changing times.
I remember the days when I used to visit a barber shop which had a rather noisy chair and the only source of entertainment while waiting was a 2 week old ‘India Today’ or an equally old copy of the ‘Ananda Viketan’ and for the movie buffs it would be a month old copy of ‘Screen’ or ‘Stardust’ with the All India Radio cranking up the good old ‘Ungal Viruppam’. On entering it all I had to say was ‘Summer Cut’, irrespective of it being Winter, Autumn or Spring. Unlike today when we receive a catalogue from which to choose the hair color and the contours you require to be shaped. The rickety chairs have been replaced with plush ones which swivels with hardly any noise, the ‘India Today’s’ are of the latest edition and the Radio has been elbowed by their swanky successors, the MP3’s with a top of the range audio system connected to it… and yes... what I failed to notice was that they are no longer Barber shops…they are Salons, or Hair Dressers or Hair spas. I need to learn to be more politically correct when I address certain professionals.
A piece of trivia which most of you from Chennai might be aware of will act as an anecdote on how we have embraced ‘Barber’ as a part of our life. The oft-repeated story is that Hamilton Bridge, just north of San Thome, was named after a British official called Hamilton and that in local usage it became Ambattan Bridge and, thereafter, Barber's (ambattan = barber) Bridge. Looks like that this bridge might be soon in for another round of name change and would probably be called a Hairstylist's Bridge in the near future.

Lip lock strictly after wedlock…

Or else you will find your self in the lock up is what a court in India has ruled.

Just as a married couple had their obscularis muscles juxtaposed the cops in Delhi picked them up and booked them under charges of PDA or Public display of affection.

On a legal note though, a lawyer got them out claiming thus

"Obscenity charges get attracted when the act is so obscene that it encourages depravity or annoys the public. In this case both these contents are missing because the chargesheet is silent on any passersby as originally claimed,"

So better don’t kiss your wife unless you are carrying several copies of your marriage registration.

From being booked for kissing up north to being molested for a pint of beer. Strange things have been happening in India in the recent past. The Raj and Ram Senas created havoc in different parts of the country whipping up regional and religious sentiments. While the Raj sena is trying to beat up the Northies back to the north, the Ram sena is targeting spaghettis, no not the Italian delicacy. A mug of beer and spaghetti are against the Hindu and Indian culture claims Muthalik who now shares the dais with eminent anti liberal fanatics of the likes of Mulla Omar of the Taliban. We may soon see Muthalikinisation of B’lore and M’lore. He has gone a step further by announcing he would marry off all the ‘dating’ couples on Valentines Day. So all you to-be-married’s step on to Brigade Road in Bangalore on Valentines Day with a signboard ‘DATING’ and Sir Muthalik will ensure you are happily married, not a bad deal though in these times of recession, some cost saving on marital expenses.

I’m happy I grew up learning to respect and enjoy each others cast, religious, regional and gender orientations. I wish to recollect a play which all of us friends irrespective of caste or creed watched and laughed at, ‘Mahabarathil Mangatha’ a spoof on the epic Mahabharata where the Pandava brothers play poker against the Kauravas with their wife Draupadi (mind you wife & not wives) as the stake and the Kauravas even go to the extent of disrobing Draupadi. It is a much narrated event from the epic Mahabharata…Can the Muthaliks claim that this act represents Hindu / Indian culture?

A Tragic Day for the World of Comedy.

Nagesh is no more.
A person of moderate looks and all of skin and bones, but the fact was most of those bones were funny. A legend initially in the line of Jerry Lewis but later went on to leave an indelible mark of his own style.
He was as quick footed as he was quick witted. He was a delight to watch when he shook a limb or more... his jives, twists, taps and simple stretches thanks to his bony structure were some display of gracefull dancing sans the pelvic thrusts that you see these days. His dancing skills would definitely outclass his imposters (including his son) of the break dance crazy generation of 80’s and 90’s.
As for his acting skills I am yet to see a better scene to match his histrionics in 'Kadhalika Neramillai' as an ambitious wannabe movie maker who narrates a horror story line to his dad Ballayya to wheedle him to finance his project.
I managed to post the link to this immortal clip in memory of this legendary comedian.

Operation Bypass

The Indian Prime Minister Dr. Manmohan Singh is recuperating from a bypass surgery at the Intensive Care Unit of the AIIMS.
But what baffled me the most was the fact that the PM was more under the IMC or Intensive MEDIA Care than under the much required Intensive MEDICAL Care. The way the most erstwhile of Indian media houses covered this story would put to shame the hardcore paparazzi fraternity of the British media.
Interviewing Dr. Singh’s nephews and asking them how they wish to remember their uncle or asking the Congress spokesman ‘Are you keeping your fingers crossed?' was some display of abysmal journalism. Graphics and info on what a bypass were also provided. A discussion on the technicalities of a bypass with the most eminent of cardiac surgeons was shown on prime time. This was simply not in line with the journalistic basics but a show by, for and of the TRP mad media sharks. Well, the only personal positive outcome was that I switched from the news channels to the good old Cartoon Network much to my daughter's delight.
A couple of weeks back the Indian media provided us some live coverage of a terrorist attack with some grenade throwing action and AK 47 firings. Thanks to the intensive security around the operation theatre we just fell short of a live coverage of a bypass surgery or else the good old Indian media would have made a theater out of the operation.
If they had an opportunity they would have even called it 'The live coverage of Operation Bypass'.

Wishing you a speedy recovery Mr. Prime Minister.

I Barack Hussein Obama…

A week in which the 44th President of the United States of America was sworn in... & sworn in once again, to be legally and politically correct.
‘Where did you get that funny name?’ is what people asked him the most according to him in the prologue of his book ‘The Audacity of Hope’. Barack Hussein Obama a name that is quiet different & funny, a skin pigmentation that is different, and a talk that is different. So, as they say, the change is here… but for how long is the question. What better a name to mediate the Middle East crisis? A Jewish sounding first name, a Muslim middle name and an almost neutral last name. An American President’s name that does not have a Christian overtone to it. It’s no longer a Theodore, Robert, Richard, Ronald, Bill, George or even a Abraham but It’s just a Barack Hussein Obama.
Well every one I meet say that Obama is a great orator, but is that enough to be a neo world Atlas, When Atlas Shrugged the world shook. In this case if America sneezes the whole world catches a cold. Under such a scenario can we say an eloquent speaker is all that is needed to carry the American / World order forward? Will the talk ever walk?
Walking the talk is something only the seasoned politicians have mastered. I am always of the opinion that age matters in Politics. The older you are, the better you are, is the mantra in politics. It’s nice to make strong statements and send strong messages on day one of assuming office but the sustainability and the realisation of the statements / messages is what differentiates one from being referred in history and being history.
I always thought and felt that this American election was more emotional than rational. A kind of Indian reservation scenario was evident; I was reminded of the election of Mr. K R Narayan as the first Dalit President and the appointment of Justice K. G. Balakrishnan as the first Dalit Chief Justice, with due respects to both of them who deserve every bit of the positions they went on to hold. However I have a feeling that the emotional quotient prevailed over the rational in this American presidential elections.
Yes We Can!!! was an electoral slogan…? I’m sure the American people are all ready to say Yes we can once again but, Can you?? Mr. President. I just hope and pray that at the end of the 4 year term you can proudly beat your chest and say ‘Yes We can’ was transformed to ‘Yes we did’.
Congratulations and Good luck Mr. Barack Hussein Obama. (The sad part of it is, when you type Obama the spell check on MS Word returns Osama... so much for the good over the evil).

From Kappa to Kubboos…The saga of a Gulf Malayalee…

I should be honest here and acknowledge that I drew inspiration for the title from a recent Telugu movie ‘Avakai Biriyani’ directed by a Malayalee, Anish Kuruvilla. Avakai the super duper spicy chunky mango pickle in oil, the pride of Telengana side of Hyderabad and Biriyani the pride of the Nawabi side of Hyderabad. This I thought was a superb title for a movie.

Well to relate this title with the Gulf malayalee what better than Kappa, Kappa or Tapioca is a common man’s staple diet back home in Kerala and Kubboos an Arabic Bread which has beaten all inflationary trends and still remains at close to 1 Dirham for a packet of 4 ( almost at 25 Cents). Again a Middle class Malayalee’s staple diet in the Gulf.

There are basically different leagues of Gulf Malayalees found in the Middle East.

a) The emigrant rural Malayalee who land’s up in urban Dubai (by the way Dubai is kind of a generic for the entire Middle East in Kerala) by virtue being related to his dad’s second cousin’s wife’s brother in law. He ends up on a visit visa and finds a job as a secretary and who within months finds a nurse from the same village as him from Kerala and marries her. His sole ambition in life is to build a palatial house back home which is atleast a square meter bigger than his immediate neighbour. He remains in this job until his kids are old enough to take over the mantle from him.

b) The kids grow up to be the second gen Mallu offspring’s of the ones described under Cat A and graduate from the kubboos to KFC’s and Big Mac’s (though they have been taught that it should be strictly once in three months cos the snack box from KFC costs Rs 144/- as per the Forex rates today). This is a confused gen. They grew up watching their dads cracking the exchange rates at the beginning of every month while they wanted a Play Station, Xbox or a MP3. Finally they get married to one of their dads friend’s daughter who was incidentally their school junior at the Indian school but only saw her at social gatherings cos the boys stream and the girls stream at the Indian schools had different timings. One of the parents decides to stay put and support their children in bringing up their grand children, under such a scenario the monthly remittance back home is 3 fold. The result being another palatial house in the middle of no where in Kerala. This is the PS3 generation, but still not liberated from the gulf parental pressures / clutches.

c) The Third type is the already Indian Metro bred Non Resident Keralites who again makes it to the Gulf on a visit visa by virtue of the benevolence of his dad’s first cousin. This type is in the Middle East with a ‘been-there-done-that’ attitude. Who has a rocking life and doesn’t end up making the kind of money the Cat A or the descendents of Cat A as described in CAT B make. Unless and until he happens to impress of one of the Cat A parent to part with his Cat B daughter.

But as the recession and low oil prices hit the Middle East, the recent days has seen an exodus of the great Indian Diaspora heading back home to an uncertain future, with the Dubai Dream shattered.

Bailout Vs Aid

Bailout has been the flavour of the month now for the last couple of months. Companies being bailed out, irresponsible people being bailed out… It looks like the bailout season is on.

I was inspired by a very thought provoking article Where's the bailout for the Hungry I read recently. Why is it that governments are willing to spend millions & billions of taxpayers money to bail out unscrupulous business houses.

I realised its called a bail out when it’s bailing out the recently poor and the needy among the rich and the famous, while it's called an aid or a charity when it is meant for the poor and the needy among the poor and the needy. A euphemistic approach is rendered to the cheats & mismanaged businesses while people who are poor and hungry are addressed / treated with a blatant sense of apathy.

If only a fraction of the millions & billions being pledged in alleviating the hardships of the rich & the famous were channelled into eradication of poverty, the world would have been a better place to live in.

From Chinna Chinna Aasai to Periya Periya Dreams…

That has been the journey of this music maestro from Chennai. He shot into fame with Roja and went on to become the first Indian music director to win the Golden Globe award for his score in the Slum Dog Millionaire. His rise to fame can be associated with India’s liberalisation era of early 90’s, the Internet, Napster etc. It was also a time when the Indian film Industry saw some serious marketing with the likes of glitzy music launches and the role of Music Directors came into prominence. He has to his credit some of the catchy numbers, catchy but ephemeral, very few lingers eternally.

This was not the case long back; songs on its own had to find its way into the ear drums of the listeners and then settle down in the dark recesses of the mind for ever, to be recalled when needed, years or even decades later. Let me give you an example. The song ‘Annakili Unna thedinen’ was a song in the Tamil movie Annakili which announced the birth of a legend, the Young Prince of Music, Illayaraja. He had and still has a cult like following and yours truly is a member too. Coming back to Annakili, a movie released when I was 4 and the song heard for the first time when I was probably 6, but even three decades later listening to it, is bliss. This is what I call everlasting music.

My intention was not to compare the two, since both are iconic names in Indian music, though one will be remembered by a generation of music lovers while the other will be remembered by more than one generation.

Congratulations Rehman!!!

The Ghajini Resolution

I was asked what my New Year resolution would be, I said I’m looking at a 6 or a 8 Pack a la Aamir Khan in Ghajini…but unfortunately my hairline seen to be receding faster than the fat around my tummy and it looks like I could well be on the way to emulate Aamir as far as the hair style in Ghajini goes. I’m not sure about the angle of intersection of those two lines on his head & wish I knew them, cos that holds the key to success or so says an old wise crack in Malayalam that goes like this ‘Ellam Thala vara polla nadukkum’ Translated as ‘you will be as successful as the lines on your head’. The moolah that Aamir is raking out of this movie seems to justify this age old adage.

So by the end of 2009 you guys will soon see pictures of mine with a shaven or is it a fallen hairline but with 2 lines intersecting at the Ghajini angle…

Wishing you all a great New Year.

Party Animals beget Party Cubs….

My New Year resolution was to enter a year without complaining looks like I have broken it in a couple of hours into the New Year.

I came across an article in The Times of India (http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Cities/Chennai/While_parents_party_kids_do_too/articleshow/3911595.cms) that a couple of places in Chennai were hosting ‘Shadow’ New Year ’s Eve parties to host the Party cubs while their Party animal parents where dining, dancing and drinking away to usher in the New Year. They were taking in kids from the age of 5 to 14 from 7.30 p.m. on 31st to the wee hours of the New Year morn for a sum of Rs. 750/-. One of them is held at a place called Kanchanapaati, a name that you would normally associate with a 9 yard sari clad septuagenarian Mylapore maami who wakes up to Suprabatham but not the type who would host a party late into the New Year morning. I don’t want to sound a loser or lil too old for my age, but W…T.. F*$K, I had'nt been to a New Year party until I was 22. I spent ushering in most of my New Years with a Candle in Hand at the Marthoma Syrian Church on Harrington Road, Chetpet, though on the way back from Chetpet to Besant Nagar, I had the opportunity to view the revelries on the road but never have been a part of it.

The days of Bacchanalia on New Years eve are over, welcome the days of ‘Bachu’nalia …kids who welcome the year high on coke, (as in Coca Cola) French fries and chicken drumsticks and jiving away to the latest Bollywood or Kollywood numbers… Wish you a Very Happy New Year and God save the kids…who are growing a lil too fast.