Age of Innocence

Age of Innocence

There's this young, bubbly girl (4th standard or so) who swims fiercely and makes friends with every person she comes across at the pool I go to.

Today morning, as I finished a lap and came to the edge, I asked her,

"How many laps so far?"

She didn't reply.

After a moment's pause, she said,

"Don't feel bad, but you look like Virat Kohli."

Me shocked, mouth wide open,

"What?"

"You look like Virat Kohli. Like his brother or something..."

Me, regaining my senses,

"Thank you. I don't feel bad about it at all."

She took a deep breath and swam away.

#AgeOfInnocence #MeBlushes

Empire Bars Subjects from Giving Exam

Empire Bars Protesting Colonial Subjects from Civils Test

Dystopia: Two colonial subjects from India, Sarojini N and Annie B, have been refused permission to write the civil service entrance examination of the Empire because they were involved in protests on the territory as subjects there.

The subjects came to know this when the approached the Empire on Dryday after they were unable to procure hall passes. They were told hall passes would not be issued to them as they had participated in protests at the Empire apart from being involved in protests in Another Empire (Almighty Viceroy, the nerve!).

Both are common subjects at the Centre for Common Sense at Another Empire and had applied for the Civils diploma in Common Sense at the Empire. Sarojini is the miscellaneous secretary of the Freedom for Subjects Association at Another Empire. Annie is the activities secretary of the same organization (See, see, how they are professional troublemakers?). 

This is not the first time that subjects have been denied hall passes for the Civils exam for this reason. Last decade Chandrasekhar A was not allowed to take the test as he had participated in a broccoli eating event on the territory (and we all know eating broccoli is dishonourable and against the Empirical Culture).

Empire Doctor, Lord Kensington, said, “There is an empirical rule (which are subject to change according to the whims of the Empirical Heads, everyone accepts and abides by) which does not allow subjects involved in acts of insubordination to scribe the entrance exam. The two subjects were present at almost every other trouble at the Empire when they were here (there are photographic records, of course - Big Sister always watches you). The Empire is very serious about ensuring subordination on the territory and not allowing such subjects to spoil the atmosphere (which is already being accused of global warming and climate change, which we know is false liberalist propaganda) . I told them they have the option of pleading to the Viceroy/Big Sister and asking to be allowed to give the test.”

Proclaimer: Any resemblance to the information given in this article to things that you could have heard is purely not-so-coincidental

The Rabbit Question

The Rabbit Question

(Me busy working at office looking forward to and expecting zero disturbance)

Colleague: “Hey (my name).”

Me (annoyingly grunts): Hmmm... 

Colleague: “One question. What do you know about rabbits? I plan to buy one as a pet... Do they need much care?"

Me: "I don’t know much about caring them... but I’ve eaten them though. Very tasty."

Prem Ratan Dhan Payo... Aur Free Mein Little Modi Bhakti

CBFC Presents,

Prem Ratan Dhan Payo... Aur Free Mein Little Modi Bhakti!

I watched Prem Ratan Dhan Payo last night (Yes, I did). The movie was pretty lame. Except for a double-role Sallu Bhai (one serious, one fun), there was nothing special in this overly melodramatic movie. Bad execution, bad editing, horrendous villainy, fairly good songs (all 90's style),  some good comedy, well, the only thing that was holding together this film was the power of Sallu Bhai. The power of an escapist Bollywood melodrama. It was bad, but I enjoyed it. That's a cross I would like to take upon myself.

 

What I want to talk about here is not the film, but the big attachment that came with the film. When the interval ads were over, before the mandatory 'no-smoking' ad was shown, there was a five minute propaganda video song on 'Narendra Modi and Desh Bhakthi'. I had heard about the chances of such a thing being there from a scroll.in article which I read yesterday (here). I thought this was just in the multiplexes, but no, it was in the dingy theater I watched it too, It was in every screen playing Prem Ratan Dhan Payo. Apparently the video is attached to the movie, with the no smoking ad, says an Indian Express article which I read today (here). 

This video was produced and presented by none other than Pahlaj Nihalani, the Chairperson of Central Board of Film Certification, an ardent Modi Bhakt and campaigner. He 'requested' the production house of the movie 'Rajashri Productions' to air the song with the film, as a tribute to Narendra Modi, and showcase all his good work of building a 'tolerant, wonderous' nation by meeting all sorts of world leaders and smiling around for photos. There is a shot in the beginning where Modi is shown in deep meditation-mode in the graphic Himalayas, wearing a Karate costume, an absolute no-miss moment (it's hilarious!). Most part of the video is people synced with lame background graphics. The film shows how all religions of India (a dose of tikawala Hindu, a dose topiwala Muslim,an equal dose of crosswala Christian) is growing strong and co-existing peacefully (full hugs and all) under the mighty leadership of Modi, who is equal to Gandhi, dreaming of a swachh nation. The three dudes representing the three religions had so much desh bhakt in their body I thought all their muscle flexing, passionate expressions on face and vigour, would oust Salman Khan from the movie industry altogether. 

When the song became too unbearable, I booed. Nobody joined me though. There were some comments on Modi from here and there but I think nobody else booed this abomination because of all the graphical mix of saffron, white, and green which were dancing all across the screen, because of the pride sentiment we are infused with from childhood towards the tricolours. 

There have been Government ads playing in theaters all the time, some good, some informative, some bad, but all of them were around 30 seconds and did no particular harm I suppose, till now. This five minute show of forced patriotism and Modism was nothing like that. When you are paying for a movie and watching it, you are thrust upon with and subjected to Goebbelsian style propaganda show, sponsored by the Chairman of the Censor Board. What scares me is that I think this is just the beginning.  They have the power, they could make it worse. What if we aren't allowed to watch a movie without being subjected to half an hour of propaganda video? What if this made mandatory to all movies to pass the censor? What if this is part of the DVD as well? Winter is coming, I guess.

Let's come back to the movie now. With all its faults, Prem Ratan Dhan Payo has one scene which really interested me. Ramleela artists Prem (Salman Khan) and Kanhaiya (Deepak Dobriyal) are asked to stop all their acts in the palace and leave by the Diwan (Anupam Kher). Kanhaiya, in disappointment and anger, says something like this, "Jahaan pe insaniyat ka jagah nahi hein, wahaan pe artists ka kya jagah hoga? Chalo Bhai!" (Where there is no place for humanity, would there be a place for artists? Let's go Bhai!). I don't think this scene was a coincidence. I think it was put in place for a reason. With all the torture caused by the propaganda video, which haunted me all through the second half and does even now, which I cannot un-see, which I would be subjected to again I'm sure, this scene, this one scene proved to me that there's still space for a glimmer of hope. 

A Love Letter to My Beard

To Beard or Not To Beard

(The translation of the note I made on the day I was forced to remove my beard - 30 August 2015)

Dear Beard- Mon Amour, 

It is with great pain that I write this letter to you. Even though you have been a part of me for quite a while now, you do know that in the past couple of months, things and feelings have grown stronger amongst us. That's the reason I haven't hurt you even with a single stroke of scissors or blade. Now, a circumstance has emerged where I should leave you. I had expected this. But I never imagined our parting to be this painful and sad. Fate has played its card here, a cruel one that is. 

I liked you. That is the reason why I, someone who do not even apply soap properly while bathing, took care of you daily using shampoo, conditioner, oil etc- it was my immense love to you that prompted me to do all that. Terrorist, ISIS guy, Militant, where all names which people used to abuse you through me- but I fought tooth and nail against such attacks and protected you. From now, I cannot. I am tired. Let me explain how such a situation came to be. 

It is with great happiness that I came back home today, after long months. The power went off the moment I stepped into the portico and my bother announced my arrival to my mother, as we where waiting for her to open the door. Since it was dark, she didn't see my face when I got in. Later occurrences make me believe that if there was power in those two minutes of my arrival, our separation would have happened then and there only. Things where that bad, dreadful, and abominable.

The battle continues...

I am not describing in detail what all horrible things were said. All my logical and biblical arguments about beard and its importance where ruthlessly discarded by mom. My pleading of the cause using the photos of St. Joseph and St. Frederick Ozanam, both flaunting their beards, was also rejected. "What kind of shape is this? Don't come back here anymore. Aren't you ashamed to live like this, so carelessly?" said and asked she. "Don't say that mom. I take care of my beard everyday using shampoo and all," said I, to no avail. "I will lock you up at home. I will set fire to that beard using kerosene," said she. Her arguments were not logical at all. She continued her desperate and cruel attempts to get rid of my jewel, my precious you. 

I would have suffered anything for you. But her final weapon destroyed my whole spirit to fight. She declared that she would not give me the Dried Beef, Dried Prawns, and Chutney Powder which I was supposed to take back to Hyderabad, unless I shave of or trim my beard. A shiver went through my spine. I felt tired. I accepted my defeat. There was no energy left in me to fight. "The path of righteousness" ended there, for me. I failed you. I am leaving you tomorrow. 

Let me remind you my dear beard friend, that this parting is not forever. We will meet soon. This temporary split is happening only because I am at the mercy of this house and this woman, my mother. The prophet is always not welcome with his ideologies at home or his hometown, as you know. The same has happened here as well. Here, I bid you tears of farewell. Here, I cry hard. Here, I stop.

Good Bye!

Truly Yours,

(Signature)

Athul

Determination

It's time.
I can't wait anymore.
I should do it NOW.
Later would mean more.
Later would mean more trouble.
Frustration.
Disaster.
Wastage.
Unhappiness.
Anger.
It's time.
Time to take a stance.
Time to make the move.
Time to put my feet down...

and kill the cockroach. 

Rattle Your Chains and Celebrate Freedom!

Porn is said to have misguided people, destroyed lives, been a bad influence for many, given a fake sense of pleasure and hope, led to exploitation, violence, rapes, murders, scandals, been addictive for many, led to the formation of organizations of extortion and unwanted profit seeking, and indulged in many more 'crimes' against humanity. Do you know what else has done all these to the world, in much larger scales and much more horrors? Religion. Yet I don't see anybody taking away religion from others unless it is to promote their own. 

This note is written in the context of what is being referred to as the 'porn ban' in India. 



Last night, before I logged off my computer, I checked whether some porn websites, which I heard were on the government list, are still available with my internet service provider. I found out that all of them were not there, just a message displaying 'this website is not available on this server'. I was curious and a bit nostalgic I guess, the kind of nostalgia you feel when something you used to like and follow is no longer there, the kind of feeling close to how people checked 'Orkut' for one last time before it was taken away, just for old times' sake. I'm not a big fan of porn. Of course, I used to watch porn and do whatever was needed to be done at a younger age. But I believe that I have 'grown out' of that age. It's been quite a while since I watched any at all. 

For a young boy who was brought up in a conservative society like India, porn taught me a great deal of things. It gave me knowledge on many basic things even, things which I couldn't have understood or didn't understand at all from all those 'Reproduction' classes at high school biology or those hurried lessons on sex in 'catechism' classes at church Sunday school. I admit I didn't know anything except a few words here and there, by the age of 17 or so. I believe this is the case with most kids in the society and country I live in. Ours is the nation from where the 'Kamasurta' emerged, ours is the nation which prides itself of its epics which contain incest, sexual exploitations and violence, orgies and all sorts of things which are frowned upon in the case of porn now. The world of porn is nothing compared to the depiction of devastations, events, and stories in various religious texts that we have at our homes. 

Also, don't think that porn is a new thing, a product of new technology and the spread of it. It is as old as the great old civilizations and beyond. It is just that our governing bodies suppress the data from the past and show us only what they think is 'good' and 'mighty' from our histories (If someone needs some evidence in this regard, try and watch the documentary, Pornography, the Secret History of Civilization). Porn is not a product of modernity, it has adapted itself to the evolutions of new media of communication from time to time, age to age, just like religion and ideologies do. 

The society around us is becoming more and more repressed, as we see it. I have seen various statistics which shows that it is in such repressed societies that porn has most consumers and I believe it to be true, seeing the people around me. And it is in these repressed societies that most sexual crimes occur. People get intrigued and aroused at the teeniest bits of things and body parts which otherwise the society has deprived them off from seeing and perceive as normal. I'm an adult, I'd rather masturbate to watching people having sex in my privacy with the money I paid for my internet than fantasising about some bit of cleavage or midriff I ogled at. 

I believe, if our society didn't feel ashamed of discussing and seeing sex as a normal thing, if it wasn't considered a form of sin but pleasure, and if we tell our young people and children things the way they should be told, there would be less porn and fewer cases of 'pornographic addictions'. Yet we allow this ridiculous invasion on the privacy of an adult individual and applaud it because it is porn, because it shows the act of sex (sex is bad, against culture, ban! ban! ban!).

Let us all now wait and see what else will join this seemingly never ending list of bans. Meanwhile, rattle the chains you are shackled in, and celebrate our 'freedom' and 'independence'.

"Happy Independence Day!"

An old piece- Written for EFL Uncut Magazine - Nov 2008

The ‘leg’acy

After a lot of persuasions and ‘blackmails’ (for the single reason that I’m a journalism

student) here I am, to write something. It’s the legend of a leg.  As you all know the latest

version of the CFA (Campus Football Association) tournament ended with only one casualty.

I’m going to tell you all about the incident that happened 2-3 weeks ago.


Mr. X (who wish to be unnamed, as though it is easy to be unknown), a 1st year student of

the university, is usually called as ‘karuthamuthu’ (black pearl) by his friends. He is a boy

who likes to talk and crack jokes. He is very strong. I don’t know why he had a full haircut

but he looks glamorous now. His smile is very much showing and it is a difficult smile to

Our protagonist joined the CFA league. Sorry guys, I don’t know the name of his team (I

found it very difficult to remember all those weird names). Anyway, his team won the 2nd

prize. I’m not going to all those details. Remember, our story is about the leg; his leg.

It was the second day of the tournament. As our hero scored goals and was rocking the

whole stadium (if we can call it that), a sudden tragedy happened. He was heading with the

ball to the opposite goalpost and a great forward of the other team blocked him. Both of

them fell down. Both of them got up and played again.


At night when I saw him as usual he smiled and talked to me. We happily talked about the

football match.  The next day I heard the news that he was taken to the hospital. That

night he came back to the campus with a new attachment to him, a plaster.

By seeing the pure white plaster, the artistic minds of some of us came to life. We took

borrowed sketch-pens in our hand and started being ‘Michelangelo’s ‘on it. After about half

an hour it really became a billboard with advertisements varying from Shankar cements to

Pepsi on it. After some days another artist painted ‘stick no bills’ on it. Many people

autographed the plaster. Have a look, it is truly a masterpiece. This is the legend of the

leg. I hope the hospital authorities will give it to us after removing it from his leg.

Deadline

"Hey dude,
 Are you free now?"
"I'm in the middle of something, but yes,
 Tell me, What?"
"There is a new work,
 It's simple,
 Nothing special.
 An ad, we need, 
 Something different, 
 Something special."
"You said nothing special."
"Well, yes, but it's simple.
 It's for client Mister Ex,
 I don't have a proper brief,
 But we need the ad. 
 Make something up, 
 Write it well, 
 It's nothing special.
 Find a concept,
 Do something creative,
 Make it special."
"You said nothing special."
"It's not that, buddy,"
"(Buddy! Don't call me that you dumbass, I hate you)"
"Don't make it special,
 But make it special.
 You need to make it the best,
 Do your creative best, 
 It should be out of the world,
 Something no one thought about,
 So unique that you blow the world,
 So special that you make me famous (coz, I'm the boss),
 So, get along, do it, tout suite!"
"Okay then, 
 Creative, Special, Awesome, Unique, Wonderous,
 Lemme try, I will give it my best,
 How much time do I have?"
"How much time do you need?"
"A day or two at least?"
"You have one hour. Thank You!"

A Clockwork Borange

Out of sheer boredom,

I scribble down this poem.

People might not find it good,

But write definitely, I would.

Suffocation is gripping me,

I really don't want to just let it be.

When I really started thinking,

About scribbling down something,

The first two lines came in rhyme,

Had to keep the rest so, lest it be a crime.

Thinking of a title, I came across 'borange',

The only word that rhymes with orange.

My initial choice was just use 'Clockwork',

Which then I thought, alone, couldn't work.

Now I stop writing this poem,

And go back,to the same old boredom.

The Train of Thoughts

The Train of Thoughts

Today morning, I entered the MMTS train to reach office without taking the ticket- and I thought...

I haven't taken the ticket, I feel guilty. But how could it be my fault? I stood in the unusual queue at the station for a long while and the train suddenly came to the platform. I had no choice but to run and catch the train. It normally stops at the station only for 30 seconds or so. One I got in though, the train didn't move from the station for the next 5-10 minutes. I couldn't go back and take the ticket too. What if the train leaves without me? I couldn't go by bus as there is an RTC strike going on from yesterday. No buses are running. The reason why there was a long queue at the station was the strike itself. People who normally would go to their work destinations had thronged the railway station. The common-man's other choice that was autorickshaws were no help as the drivers had decided to take advantage of the situation and charge double and triple the normal rates, albeit getting many times the passengers that the normally get. Yesterday, I had to shell out Rs. 150 in the morning and 120 in the evening to get to my office and back- that too, sharing the auto with other passengers. I wouldn't have had to spend so much, if not for my boss who really wanted to 'meet me' to let me know of two measly corrections (big in his view point). He could have let me know about them in hundred different ways, I could have worked from home in peace, but no, he couldn't do away without meeting me and making my whole day go bad. I spent Rs 270 on transport yesterday instead of the normal 25. Yes, it is a big deal for me, and I am really pissed off! 
I haven't taken the ticket today. It is just a matter of five rupees. What if a ticket checker comes today and asks for ticket? In my jean pocket, I have a folded ticket to the place, dated two days back. Should I take the ticket out and change the date from 05 to 07? If the checker comes, will he/she detect it? Maybe I should just flash the ticket and put it back in my pocket. Maybe they would not look at the date section. But, what if I was caught? Of course they would ask me to pay the fine. The maximum fine for ticket-less travel in MMTS is Rs 250 or so. They would probably ask that much. But I don't have that much in my purse, I just have a 100, plus the 10 I wanted to get the ticket earlier. No, I wouldn't pay the fine. Why should I? It's not my fault that I couldn't take the ticket. It was because of the long queue. I reached the station at my normal commute time. I couldn't have foreseen such a long queue; not in my dreams, never in a small station like Sitaphalmandi. At first, I had thought that the tatkal reservation counter which was on the other side of the station had been shifted here. No, it wasn't. It was people like me who wanted to get to their offices and other places. People who relied on public transport. People who didn't have or couldn't afford private vehicles; not people who roams around in a fancy cars alone all over places seeing pedestrians and public transport as shit. I love public transport. Some people just don't appreciate them. They say that the big buses are crowding the streets. Easy for them to say. Imagine instead of a bus with 50 people, there were 50 motorcycles in the streets, or 50 cars with single passenger. There was a guy coming selling buttermilk in the train. I got one with the ten rupee note that was meant to be for the train ticket. I hadn't taken the ticket. Will the checker come and ask for ticket? I am not going to pay any fine for it. Maybe I can explain what happened and the checker might forgive me. Of course there should be others in this train without ticket. Would the checker forgive everyone? No, the checker should uphold the rule and make a collection, right? It's good revenue for the railways, right? But it's really not fair that I should be caught and fined for not taking a 5 rupee ticket. After all, whenever the ticket counter people had no change of coins to give me, I had forgone it. Those coins should count somewhere, right? Maybe I can argue like that and the checker will be convinced. I can offer to pay the normal ticket charge of Rs 5, or even maybe Rs 10, which makes a 100% extra charge. That's reasonable, right? 250 is definitely exorbitant. What if my argument is rejected? What if I am fined after all? What would they do when I refuse to pay the fine? Maybe they will take me to the railway police. No, even if they take me, I am not going to pay the fine. Maybe they will take me to court. In the court, maybe I can argue my point that it wasn't my fault that I didn't purchase the ticket. Whose fault was it then? It was probably the system's fault. Maybe I can argue the case showing the troubles the public face due to this strike. Maybe the case will become famous and I will be declared as the champion of the public. What if I am jailed? Ha, I will be jailed for the sake of five rupees. I should tell the court that you have detained me for the sake for just five rupees. I should tell the judge that my crime is not paying the fine of 250 rupees, my actual crime is worth 5 rupees. Is it worth the courts time and money to pursue a case worth Rs 5? They might spare me as a common man struggling with the strike. They might just leave me alone. At any cost, I won't pay the fine. 

No one came to check the ticket. I read two chapters of the novel I had with me, got down when Lakdikapool station came, and went to my office. 

The Fly

The Fly

A fly came, 
Perched itself on the glass-window pane.
Observe the fly, I thought, 
Read its movements.
Make the fly my
Next blog entry, I should.
Find the profound in the tiny, and
Then, just then, 
It flew away. 

Issues and Non Issues

British Pathe and the Selfie Video

British Pathe and the Selfie Video

So, last night I was just sitting in front of my computer wondering what to do as I was not sleepy and was not in the mood to watch a movie. Suddenly I remembered something that i read online about some thousands of historical videos being added on to Youtube by British Pathe. So, decided to check it out and found something amazing. But first off, for those of you who don't know about what British Pathe is, let me tell you.

British Pathe or Pathe News (as it was called earlier) was a producer of newsreels, documentaries, and cinemagazines from 1910 to 1970 and is now  "considered to be the finest newsreel archive in the world. " Recently they have uploaded their vast collection of over 85,000 historical newsreel videos of all types and subjects on to Youtube for free access to the people all over the world. 

I was really happy to go through the collection that they had and i watched some selected video's (mainly whatever i could find on India), but what really astonished me was a video called 'Self Portrait' which was dated 1952. In the video one gets to see people going into small cubicles and taking self portraits of themselves using a specially designed mirror-lens and remote button camera apparatus. The video is accompanied by one of the funniest commentaries you can ever have. The poses and the faces that the modern selfie'sts have made trend can all be seen in this amazing video too. One thing that can be noted from this is that even though years, culture, technology, fashion, and everything around us has changed, human nature hasn't, not one bit!

People, do check out British Pathe, it is amazing! 

Finding Food, Finding Happiness

Finding Food, Finding Happiness

Ok, so I planned to start writing by giving the date and time and all that. But then, i can't remember what the date or day is... Wait, someone was telling me about going to church tomorrow. So it should be a Saturday. (I really don't remember the days or dates these days because of joblessness. It's only when you have a time table to follow in your life, like when you have a job or when you study, that it matters- otherwise, it is just day and night, day and night.) While typing this i found out that the date and time is given in the down-right corner of the computer, it is 9 August 2014, 11.46 PM. 

Today was generally a happy day for me. Had nice food in the morning and afternoon, painted two bottles. One angry birds themed and then my favourite, Micheal Jackson in the famous slanting position on a Johnny Walker Limited Edition bottle (Thank You Vanesh for giving me the opportunity). I was all-excited and happy happy and was almost dancing around the place. Then suddenly i started feeling sad. It was that general depression that hits you (in this case, me) once in a while. 

After when Rohith cam we decided to go to his place. He wanted to get some curry from the numerous curry points at Sitaphalmandi, cook rice at home, and eat. We almost stopped near a place and I told him, I need something good today (not that rice and curry aren't good, but i wanted something special). After some deliberation and discussion and phone calls during the bike ride to his home we decided to fix up on Alhamdulillah Hotel, Nampally (Thanks to Zomato for showing the way). Using the help of Drive application and Rohith's drive skills we finally found the place, hidden inside the numerous lanes and bylanes near Nampally Station. I have been here before, 4 years ago or so, but had forgotten the way.

We ordered 2 Rumali Rotis, 1 Sheekh Kebab, 1 Talawa Ghosh, and a plate of Beef Biriyani. The food was super good, super spicy (Spicy for me maybe because i kept eating more chilly which was in the Talawa). I wanted to take a photo of the dishes but then the hunger was so intense that I didn't. Rohith said the same thing too, later. The waiter who was standing near us was a cheerful, loud guy and he was trying to have a conversation with the Yemeni couple sitting in the next bench. Their conversation without language barriers (and little help was there from translator guy) invoked laughter from everyone sitting around. "No English, No English, Hindi Hindi". This one time the waiter, with great effort, asked "Kaunsi country, country?" and the Yemeni guy shook his hand and said "Achcha, achcha!" Thanks to the translator that problem was solved soon. 

So, back to the point. We have the food there, paid the bill (Rohith did, 270 or 280 or something) and we got out. We got meeta paan (sweet paan) from the same complex. It really was one of the best meeta paans i ever had. With all that happiness we started coming back to the flat on the bike. 

We hadn't been at a distance of half a kilometer too and i saw a board, and told Rohith, "Turn Turn, Sulaimani Sulaimani." He stopped and turned as if there was an emergency, asked me What Sulaimani? What is it? Then came my famous movie dialogue response- "Oro Sulaimaniyilum orithiri mohabbath venam mone," (In each Sulaimani there should be a pinch of love too) Remember? i asked him. He said "Ustad Hotel, yeah yeah!!!" So, there was this sulaimani (special, black tea) stall nearby and we went there. I ordered mint tea and he ordered lemon tea. The young guy there two mint leaves in a paper cup and the poured the tea concoction from the flask. For the lemon tea he squeezed lemon syrup, already mixed, which was in a bottle, and then the tea. 

After all, that good food we had and that amazing meeta paan, this tea knocked out everything! Hands down it was the best i ever had! Rohith agrees with me too i guess. Otherwise he wouldn't have asked the guy till what time the stall will be open and when he said till 4 AM he looked happy. Also, he told me that he should make it a point to remember the way. When we were leaving, the guy at the stall reminded us that the stall is open from 7 pm till 4 am. I made a note of every landmark nearby in my mind, on the way back. Will never forget.

The point of all this is that, good food always makes me happy, and great food, on top of the world! Like, right now! 

The Diet Plan

The Diet Plan

Time: 10.30 ish PM

Date: 4 June 2014, which was day before yesterday

Location: My Bedroom

Occasion: Power cut, and the laptop battery died out

“How unfair! Those ****ing KSEB ppl!” As I would do every time the power goes off, I cursed the electricity board yet another (countless + one) time without fail, and crept on to the bed, frustrated. Ok, calm down, it might come in a few minutes. I took a deep breath. Think for a while. Think Think Think. What to do tomorrow? Where all to go tomorrow? (The passport-birth-certificate fiasco is eating my head these days) Which all movies do I watch tomorrow? What do I eat tomorrow? Ha, food! Got a topic to think on. Thinking about what would be for breakfast, I touched my little potbelly. Suddenly, I thought of the number shown on the weighing machine last day. Fifteen kilograms past my target! How, when would I achieve it? The futile attempts of diet and jogging for the last few years flashed through my mind. No, no. Past is past. What was futile was futile. I should be determined now. I should. I should reduce at least 10 kg in this month. What to do about it. Working out, jogging, daily basketball all wouldn’t work out. I wouldn’t continue after 2-3 days. So, I decided I have no option than to control my food. Learn to take just little of what your mother makes. Do not fall in the temptation of taste. Have food only when you are absolutely hungry. I was determined.

The next morning came. I woke up late. I was still determined. After reading newspapers and brushing my teeth, I asked, “What’s there?” Oh, it’s chakkappuzhukku (a jackfruit based dish, English doesn’t matter, it’s super-tasty!). I should take very little. I took two spoons of puzhukku and dried-prawn chutney. It was heaven! Was watching something in the laptop while eating. When the plate almost got empty, I was having a struggle in my mind. Should I? Shouldn’t I? Should I not? Why mother why? Why do you make good food? At last I convinced myself I am having breakfast and lunch together and settled for two more spoonfuls. Evening, I kept my word regarding taking less with the rice that was cooked, but then couldn’t resist emptying the plate in which the puzhukku was kept. So, day 1 determination, epic fail!

Today morning. I was determined, again. I shouldn’t fail. I can do it. The jackfruit temptation is over. Control, control. I had to go to Mukkam in the morning itself. I left after realizing that it was chapathi for breakfast and decided I should hold off hunger until I am back. I can do that. I left. At Mukkam, after I finished my first task of the day and was waiting for a travel agent office to open, i felt really hungry. I thought of the chapathis at home. It would be an hour anyway before I got home. I walked around for a while. I couldn’t resist. I went and had an egg puff and strong tea from restaurant (slowly, slowly, savouring every bit of it). Mia Culpa, Mia Culpa. I promised myself I would eat only two chapathis at home since I had the egg puff.

I came back. Sat along with Akhil to watch Modern Family while having breakfast. I had taken three chapathis, not two. I knew that I would need one more. That’s enough for me. I am determined. I had just taken half of an egg from the egg roast curry, for dietary reasons. The three got over. I am stopping. No, no, don’t tempt me. Don’t, you tasty food, don’t! I ended up having another one, and another one, and another one, and a half. There, I stopped (The last chapathi had been taken by Akhil). I must confess that I took the other half of the egg too. So, six and half chapathis, one egg, one egg puff, one tea, one black tea- my dietary breakfast of today. Late lunch wasn’t so different either (rice, sambar, dried prawns chutney, cherupayar-how could I resist?).

I know it’s just long blabber about food. But you know, it’s the story of my life. It’s 9 PM now. I am going to have dinner (This is my last non-diet dinner, I should eat well and prepare). I am determined now. I will control my food, I will be on a diet, starting tomorrow morning, again… 

It’s the story of my life. 

Such a cliché name but 'Hyderabad Blues'- Part I

The Beginning

So, the plan to go for a short visit to Hyderabad starts more than a month ago. For a long time before that half of the phone conversations between Divya* and me were about Hyderabadi Biriyani, the campus, Kim Fung restaurant, and many other things that we miss in our homeland.

*(Divya doesn’t wish to reveal her real name in this piece… Her fake name which she chooses is Anamika Menon; for writing convenience I have shortened the fake name to Divya)

Once we were fixed on going, we abandoned all the plans to pursue Hyderabadi Biriyani in Kochi. We just let know three people about our arrival in Hyderabad on 7^th March and asked them to keep the secret- which they did very well. And then, the day of our departure came. I came to Ernakulam North Railway Station and found the super-excited Divya and we boarded the train together. The journey was generally uneventful except for re-living our most favourite classroom memories- we played Bingo, Paper Cricket, Tic Tac Toe, and Poojyam Vettu (no idea what it is in English) just like we did in the back bench of MCJ classes (along with fellow-culprits Rohith, Hanuma, Megha, Anwesha, Omen, Ananthu, and sometimes Asher).

Once it was almost time to reach Secunderabad, my heart started beating faster. Once we got down, without any delay (except for the bad Selfie in front of the station for Whatsapp) , we rushed to Alpha Hotel right opposite- Biriyani calls!

First Biriyani is the Best Biriyani

The waiter takes order; the waiter brings onion and lemon; the waiter brings water; the waiter brings ‘mirchi ka saalan’; the waiter brings ‘raitha’; and finally, the ‘Hundi’ of Biriyani arrives! We watched with sparkling eyes- the fine white and yellow rice being served in our plates slowly and gently from the overflowing Hundi, the chicken piece being divided in two, the orange-red coloured masala part of the rice being served- we looked at each other and smiled- the smile of eternal food salvation! Before taking my first taste I just looked at it- the colours, the aroma, the presence- Ha, food bliss! Divya had already started eating after taking a few pictures for her ‘for memories’ phone gallery. I slowly poured the saalan on top of the biriyani. I first had the rice part alone, then had rice with saalan, then had the chicken.

“Yum Yum Yum…”

Who knows, may be the biriyani wasn’t that great according to the normal standards of Hyderabadi Biriyani, but we wouldn’t know, we wouldn’t care. We were waiting for months for this… and we were hogging with grace!

We are proud Biriyanists! All hail Biriyanism!

(I think I just invented two words)

(To be continued...)

My Lunch- Planning, Planning, and Execution

My Lunch- Planning, Planning, and Execution

Lunch (26-06-13)

It was noon. I was hungry. I wanted to have lunch.

What I didn’t want was to have lunch from either the EFLU hostel mess or Nissi Chapathi center. I wanted options. Options mean not the usual, mostly boring eateries in and around the university, in Tarnaka, in Sitaphalmandi etc. Here I exempt my dear ‘Kim Fung’. I love the place. It is not boring at all. I didn’t want to go there just because I had lunch there yesterday. What was it? Hunan Wonton Soup-Veg, Soya Chilli Wine Noodle -Chicken(all-time Kim Fung favourite), Spicy Basil Rice-Mixed (with prawns), some Spicy Chicken curry with some kind of sauce (forgot the name, the name was long, but looked tasty), with Vanesh and Dwija. The last two named are my friends, not eatables.

So, I was hungry the next day, which is today. I thought of all the places nearby I knew and was not satisfied at all. The time was 2 o clock. I was hungry. I asked Sindhu who was helping me book tickets to Kozhikode. Together we both began saying places where I could go for lunch. ‘Alpha hotel’ I said in between. Sindhu’s face brightened up suddenly and she made an exclamation sound. ‘Go go... go to Alpha, have biriyani she said. I liked the idea but decided not to because I didn’t have the hunger to eat one full Alpha biriyani. The thought of nice, hot basmati rice and spicy, tender chicken pieces made me hungrier though. At last Sindhu suggested, ‘Go to Suprabhat Habsiguda and have Ghee Idli. It is nice.’ My natural not-so-fondness towards Vegetarian hotels almost made me say no but then I thought, why not try that out. More than the word ‘Idli’, it was the word ‘Ghee’ which tempted me… hehe.  So, after one hour almost, I made my decision, finally.

A nice random bike-person gave me a lift till Tarnaka (Thank you unknown person!). When I was crossing the road I saw a guy selling something in a small mobile stall. I couldn’t resist looking. I was some white, solidified, milk looking thing which he cuts and gives in a small plastic cup for 10 bucks. I didn’t care what the thing was, just wanted to have it. My hands immediately handed him ten bucks and there I had, yummy milk pudding kind of thing (still doesn’t know its name), ha, what an appetizer!

So, I reach Suprabhat in a while. The normal veg meals which people were ordering and having (normal rice with lots of curries and one puri, little lemon rice, little curd rice, etc) made me confused. I stood there for 2-3 minutes looking at the menu, thinking of just the meals and the ghee idli, which I had in mind all the while. I gathered all my mental strength and told the guy on the counter, “ghee idli and single vada please.”

Dear Sindhu Jose aka Sindhuchechi alias Sindhu, you made my day! Right when the guy in food-giving section took two idlis from the oven (is it called oven?) and put two spoonfuls of ghee on top of it infront of me, I was in love with the dish. The idli and the vada was accompanied by sambaar, coconut chutney, and kaaram podi (the podi too had ghee all over it… made me happy happy haappyy!). After one idli and half the vada I no longer cared about the aesthetics of eating… I put everything together, poured all of the saambar on top, mixed-up and savoured it slowly slowly, till my fingers licked good.

Even though I was not fully hunger relieved, I decided not to eat more and left the place, chewing on a meeta paan. I got on a bus to Mehdipatanam and took a ticket to Jamai Osmania, which is just nearby. By the time I reached Jamai Osmania, I was convinced in my mind that God let me get on this bus till Mehdipatanam, and not any other buses through the place is because of the destiny that I should go and have haleem at Sarvi’s, Mehdipatanam. Even though it is not Ramzan season yet, due to popular demand, some outlets like Sarvi’s had started serving haleem. I took another ticket from the conductor, to Mehdipatanam.

After I got down, I rushed to Sarvi’s and asked if haleem was ready. They said I had to wait for half an hour. I was hungry hungry. The thought of haleem had been in my mind all through the journey. I decided to walk around a bit. I did. In the meanwhile, I had two singal tea, chota samosa, and two osmania biscuits from a worn down, being renovated, housefly-filled, next-to-three-meat-stalls,  Haasan Cafe. The Osmania biscuits were cold, dry, and the worst I ever had. Tea and samosa were good. 5 o clock. Half an hour has passed. I rushed to Sarvi’s and ordered haleem. The first spoon of the Hyderabad Ramzan specialty itself took me to taste heavens. The perfectly cooked mutton, the fine, melting bones of it, the ghee-cashew- pudina-fried onion garnishing on top…. Oh, what taste! Oh, how I miss this city, my alternate food heaven! (The other one being Kerala, of course)

One more meeta paan and I was done. The time- 5:30pm.

There, that’s the story of my lunch today. May all people who have read this get nice-nice food in the coming days! Haappy Eating!

An Attempted Travelogue

An Attempted Travelogue

KSRTC Super Fast Journey (KKD-BNGLR) (22-06-13)

So, I am travelling from Calicut, sorry, Kozhikode to Hyderabad via Bangalore, sorry, Bengaluru. I am sitting in a KSRTC Super Fast (Kerala SRTC not the Karnataka one) which has just crossed Mysore. I am pretty much bored and my sleeping quota for the day is over. The date is 22^nd June (it’s already 22^nd???  I never knew… had to check my mobile to confirm… who cares about dates when they are jobless).

I started from home at around 8 in the morning. Right when I was about to call an auto till the bus stop, Jobin (my cousin) came on a Black Honda Activa like an angel and offered me to drop off till the stop. Ha, I was glad; I had saved twenty rupees by 8 ‘o’ clock in the morning… yay! (I know I am writing all sorts of bullshit which no one really is interested in but pardonne moi, I’m bored.)

 As with most of my journeys I had already planned what to eat from the restaurants which I come across. For example, I wanted to have breakfast from the canteen in Kozhikode Moffusil bus stand. During my bus journey from Koodaranji to Kozhikode, I thought what should I eat? Porotta? Appam? Puttu? Dosa? Pathiri? I finalized on 1 Porotta and 2 Pathiris (I couldn’t make up my mind to a single item). With them, Cherupayar curry or Kadala curry would make me really happy. Ha! Plan made, wonderful! I began dreaming about the food (as it happens most of the times). The journey was uneventful for the rest except for the conversation I overheard between two school kids about whose movies were better, Asif Ali’s or Surya’s (Really???)

Once I reached Kozhikode I rushed to the aforesaid canteen, without even checking the timings of the next Bangalore bus. Unfortunately, the place had no Pathiri, no Cherupayar, no Kadala even. What a letdown!  I immediately said bye-bye to the waiter and rushed to the nearest restaurant. Ha! There I am, having what I wanted- Porotta, Pathiri, Kadala and Chaai- made my day by 10 o clock!

Now there was a problem, it was raining heavily. I had to get back to the bus stand. I have an umbrella; I don’t want it to be wet. So I ran to the bus stand in between the heavy traffic of Mavoor road. I caught the Banglore bus right on time, my hair, my 10 year old, black Lacoste t-shirt (one of my oldest friends now), mostly wet. I had saved my umbrella from getting wet successfully, but not so sure about my laptop, my camera, my valuable certificates, yay!

The Wayanad Churam (mountain pass) was rainy and foggy- enjoyed the hairpin bends, the view, and took photographs. Sultan Bathery bus station was interestingly infested with monkeys. Some of them even got on the bus. "Lucky ticketless travellers!", exclaimed a guy next to me. The monkeys jumped off once the bus started.

Oh, I am unable to get the movie I watched yesterday from my head. Left Right Left by Arun Kumar Aravind. The dialogues, the characters, the actors, keep on coming to my mind- what a brave political movie!  

Traffic Jam, Traffic Jam now! I am somewhere near Srirangapattanam I guess. Oh the mighty soul of Tippu Sultan, help our poor bus out of it soon! From Karnataka the bus on the side, a veiled girl is looking at me… “Hi”. What timing for “Ormakkai ini oru snehageetham..” to play through my earphones! The Jam is over… bye-bye Ayesha… oh, yes, I named her.

‘Sri Varalakshmi Milatary hotel’ – What the hell is a ‘milatary’ hotel?

Back to past- I was excited about the part of the journey through the Muthanga wildlife sanctuary and Bandipur national park. As always, I hoped to see a tiger or leopard, but had to be satisfied by three wild elephants and a small herd of deers.  

Once you cross Bandipur, you feel the absolute difference in terrain and climate. The rainy rainy mountainous terrain is replaced by plain land and dryness. The rubber trees and areacanuts were replaced by sunflowers and cabbages. I saw the Sun after one week or so; I distinctly remember last noticing the Sun on 15^th June when I was in SpiceTree Munnar.

One other interesting thing I noticed is how the playlist in your mind automatically changes when you see something. For example, when I was passing through the beautiful green Bandipur, I had all romantic songs like ‘Ethrayo Janmamai’, ‘Varamanjal’ and ‘Pachai Nirame’. I crossed Bandipur and saw the Nilgiri Mountains behind me and it changed to “Neelagiriyude sakhikale...” When I saw the sunflowers the KJ Yesudas of my brain shifted drastically to S Janaki with “Suryakanthi… Suryakaanthi…”

I think I am done writing for now. The reason might either be that I don’t have anything more to write or that my ass is hurting sitting like this and typing in a KSRTC. On a last but different note, I would also like to marry the singer who sang “Theeratha poga vaanam…” for David.  She would be my second singer-fantasy-wife after Shreya Ghoshal.

Tatabyebye!