I watched Kalloori, a Tamil film directed by Balaji Shakthivel and produced under the Shankar banner. After the director’s earlier movies ‘Samurai’ and ‘Kadhal’, I had lot of expectations for the movie but it was very disappointing to see a movie like that from a very good director Balaji and a good producer Shankar.
Plot:
It is the same old story of a college love between a poor guy and a higher class heroine. The film begins in a bus that has a lot of college students heading towards Government Arts College in a small town. A set of friends are introduced as long term friends. There is a small build up to the introduction of the hero (Muthu played by newcomer Akil), who is part and parcel of the circle. All are studying in the same class. They enter into the college for the first time.
In the class room they see a new girl (Shobhana played by Tamanna), who is strikingly different from the lot. She looks fair. She looks sad. She is aloof. The group sympathizes for her and brings her into its fold. The girl soon becomes part and parcel of the group. It is very obvious from the starting that she is going to fall in love with any one of her friends. And to add to this there is a cameo by Visu where there is a Arattai Arangam kind of discussion about the friendship during college life. One girl from the group vows that they will definitely remain friends till the end of their college tenure.
The movie goes on to narrate the college life with very less fun and colour. It shows the strength of the friendship besides showing the backgrounds of the friends. Most of them are from poor background. The hero has an aim in his life. Being an athlete, he wants to excel in sports and get a good job through sports quota to give his poor family a new lease of life.
Shobhana, a rich girl from an upper caste feels for the boy and helps him achieve his goal. In fact every friend does the same thing but Shobhana does it with some sort of special attachment. Slowly the love develops in the minds of both but they chose to put it on the back seat for the sake of the larger friendship they share with the group. In fact the poor lovers don’t even share their feelings. The story moves on to a point when they are compelled by the circumstances to come out with their feelings but life has some other designs.
Analysis:
After I watched the movie I felt that there were lot many mistakes in the story and screenplay. It was not a usual happy college gang which we are used to see on screens. There were very little comedy scenes to enjoy. The movie was so real and obvious that it was almost watching a known story. The casting was not that good except for the heroine Tamanna who has done her role very well. The songs are not that great and they don’t stick to your heart. And the climax was very bad. It didn’t create the effect which the Kadhal climax created. It was a tragic end to the story but the director should have thought whether it was needed for the movie. I strongly feel that the director intentionally made the climax so tragic and it doesn’t fit with the story at all. The climax was very bad and it was very abrupt end to the story. Overall it was a very big disappointment from 2 very good Film makers.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
True Love - A sister's story
I was born in a secluded village on a mountain. Day by day, my parents plowed the yellow dry soil with their backs towards the sky. I have a brother who is 3 years younger than me. I wanted to buy a handkerchief, which all girls around me seemed to have. So, one day I stole 50 cents from my father's drawer. Father had discovered about the stolen money right away. He made me and my younger brother kneel against the wall as he held a bamboo stick in his hand.'Who stole the money?' he asked.I was stunned, too afraid to talk. Neither of us admitted to the fault, so he said, 'Fine, if nobody wants to admit, you two should be beaten!' He lifted up the bamboo stick.Suddenly, my younger brother gripped father's hand and said, Dad, I was the one who did it!'The long stick smacked my brother's back repeatedly. Father was so angry that he kept on whipping my brother until he lost his breath. After that, he sat down on our stone bed and scolded my brother, 'You have learned to steal from your own house now. What other embarrassing things will you be possibly doing in the future? You should be beaten to death, you shameless thief!' That night, my mother and I hugged my brother. His body was full of wounds from the beating but he never shed a single tear.In the middle of the night, all of sudden, I cried out loudly. My brother covered my mouth with his little hand and said, Sis, now don't cry anymore. Everything has happened.' I still hate myself for not having enough courage to admit what I did. Years went by, but the incident still seemed like it just happened yesterday.I will never forget my brother's expression when he protected me. That year, my brother was 8 years old and I was 11 years old.
When my brother was in his last year of secondary school, he was accepted in an upper secondary school in the central. At the same time, I was accepted into a university in the province. That night, father squatted in the yard, smoking, packet by packet. I could hear him ask my mother, 'Both of our children, they have good results? Very good results?'Mother wiped off her tears and sighed,' What is the use? How can we possibly finance both of them?' At that time, my brother walked out, he stood in front of father and said, 'Dad, I don't want to continue my study anymore, I have read enough books.'Father swung his hand and slapped my brother on his face. 'Why do you have a spirit so damn weak? Even if it means I have to beg for money on the streets, I will send you two to school until you have both finished your studies!'And then, he started to knock on every house in the village to borrow money. I stuck out my hand as gently as I can to my brother's swollen face, and told him, 'A boy has to continue his study; if not; he will not be able to overcome thispoverty we are experiencing.' I, on the other hand, had decided not to further my study at the university. Nobody knew that on the next day, before dawn, my brother left the house with a few pieces of worn-out clothes and a few dry beans. He sneaked to my side of the bed and left a note on my pillow; 'Sis, getting into a university is not easy. I will go find a job and I will send money to you.' I held the note while sitting on my bed, and cried until I lost my voice.That year, my brother was 17 years old; I was 20 years old.
With the money father borrowed from the whole village, and the money my brother earned from carrying cement on his back at a construction site, finally, I managed to get to the third year of my study in the university. One day, while I was studying in my room, my roommate came in and told me, 'There's a villager waiting for you outside!'Why would there be a villager looking for me? I walked out, and I saw my brother from afar. His whole body was covered with dirt, dust, cement and sand. I asked him, 'Why did you not tell my roommate that you are my brother?' He replied with a smile,' Look at my appearance. What will they think if they would know that I am your brother? Won't they laugh at you?'I felt so touched, and tears filled my eyes. I swept away dirt and dust from my brother's body. And told him with a lump in my throat, "I don't care what people would say! You are my brother no matter what your appearance is?' >From his pocket, he took out a butterfly hair clip. He put it on my hair and said, 'I saw all the girls in town are wearing it. So, I think you should also have one.'I could not hold back myself anymore. I pulled my brother into my arms and cried. That year, my brother was 20 years old; I was 23 years old.
I noticed that the broken window was repaired the first time I brought my boyfriend home. The house was scrubbed cleaned.After my boyfriend left, I danced like a little girl in front of my mother, 'Mom, you didn't have to spend so much time cleaning the house!' But she told me with a smile, "It was your brother who went home early to clean the house. Didn't you see the wound on his hand? He hurt his hand while he was replacing the window.'I went into my brother's bedroom. Looking at his thin face, I felt like hundreds of needles pricked in my heart. I applied some ointment on his wound and put a bandage on it, 'Does it hurt?" I asked him.'No, it doesn't hurt. You know, when at the construction site, stones keep falling on my feet ...Even that could not stop me from working.' In the middle of the sentence, he stopped. I turned my back on him and tears rolled down my face. That year, my brother was 23 years old; I was 26 years old.
After I got married, I lived in the city. Many times my husband invited my parents to come and live with us, but they didn't want. They said, once they left the village, they wouldn't know what to do.My brother agreed with them. He said, 'Sis, you just take care of your parents-in-law. I will take care of Mom and Dad here.' My husband became the director of his factory. We asked my brother to accept the offer of being themanager in the maintenance department. But my brother rejected the offer. He insisted on workingas a repairman instead for a start. One day, my brother was on the top of a ladder repairing a cable, when he got electrocuted, and wassent to the hospital.My husband and I visited him at the hospital. Looking at the plaster cast on his leg, I grumbled, 'Why did you reject the offer of being a manager? Managers won't do something dangerous like that. Now look at you - you are suffering a serious injury. Why didn't you just listen to us?' With a serious expression on his face, he defended his decision, 'Think of brother-in-law. He just became the director, and I being uneducated, and would become a manager, what kind of rumors would fly around?' My husband's eyes filled up with tears, and then I said,'But you lack in education only because of me!''Why do you talk about the past?' he said and then he held my hand.That year, he was 26 years old and I was 29 years old.
My brother was 30 years old when he married a farmer girl from the village. During the wedding reception, the master of ceremonies asked him, 'Who is the one person you respect and love the most?'Without even taking a time to think, he answered,' My sister.' He continued by telling a story I could not even remember.'When I was in primary school, the school was in a different village. Everyday, my sister and I would walk for 2 hours to school and back home. One day, I lost the other pair of my gloves. My sister gave me one of hers. She wore only one glove and she had to walk far. When we got home, her hands were trembling because of the cold weather that she could not even hold her chopsticks. From that day on, I swore that as long as I live, I would take care of my sister and will always be good to her.' Applause filled up the room.
All guests turned their attention to me.I found it hard to speak, 'In my whole life, the one I would like to thank most is my brother, 'And in this happy occasion, in front of the crowd, tears were rolling down my face again.
Love and care for the one you love every single day of your life. You may think what you did is just a small deed, but to that someone, it may mean a lot.
When my brother was in his last year of secondary school, he was accepted in an upper secondary school in the central. At the same time, I was accepted into a university in the province. That night, father squatted in the yard, smoking, packet by packet. I could hear him ask my mother, 'Both of our children, they have good results? Very good results?'Mother wiped off her tears and sighed,' What is the use? How can we possibly finance both of them?' At that time, my brother walked out, he stood in front of father and said, 'Dad, I don't want to continue my study anymore, I have read enough books.'Father swung his hand and slapped my brother on his face. 'Why do you have a spirit so damn weak? Even if it means I have to beg for money on the streets, I will send you two to school until you have both finished your studies!'And then, he started to knock on every house in the village to borrow money. I stuck out my hand as gently as I can to my brother's swollen face, and told him, 'A boy has to continue his study; if not; he will not be able to overcome thispoverty we are experiencing.' I, on the other hand, had decided not to further my study at the university. Nobody knew that on the next day, before dawn, my brother left the house with a few pieces of worn-out clothes and a few dry beans. He sneaked to my side of the bed and left a note on my pillow; 'Sis, getting into a university is not easy. I will go find a job and I will send money to you.' I held the note while sitting on my bed, and cried until I lost my voice.That year, my brother was 17 years old; I was 20 years old.
With the money father borrowed from the whole village, and the money my brother earned from carrying cement on his back at a construction site, finally, I managed to get to the third year of my study in the university. One day, while I was studying in my room, my roommate came in and told me, 'There's a villager waiting for you outside!'Why would there be a villager looking for me? I walked out, and I saw my brother from afar. His whole body was covered with dirt, dust, cement and sand. I asked him, 'Why did you not tell my roommate that you are my brother?' He replied with a smile,' Look at my appearance. What will they think if they would know that I am your brother? Won't they laugh at you?'I felt so touched, and tears filled my eyes. I swept away dirt and dust from my brother's body. And told him with a lump in my throat, "I don't care what people would say! You are my brother no matter what your appearance is?' >From his pocket, he took out a butterfly hair clip. He put it on my hair and said, 'I saw all the girls in town are wearing it. So, I think you should also have one.'I could not hold back myself anymore. I pulled my brother into my arms and cried. That year, my brother was 20 years old; I was 23 years old.
I noticed that the broken window was repaired the first time I brought my boyfriend home. The house was scrubbed cleaned.After my boyfriend left, I danced like a little girl in front of my mother, 'Mom, you didn't have to spend so much time cleaning the house!' But she told me with a smile, "It was your brother who went home early to clean the house. Didn't you see the wound on his hand? He hurt his hand while he was replacing the window.'I went into my brother's bedroom. Looking at his thin face, I felt like hundreds of needles pricked in my heart. I applied some ointment on his wound and put a bandage on it, 'Does it hurt?" I asked him.'No, it doesn't hurt. You know, when at the construction site, stones keep falling on my feet ...Even that could not stop me from working.' In the middle of the sentence, he stopped. I turned my back on him and tears rolled down my face. That year, my brother was 23 years old; I was 26 years old.
After I got married, I lived in the city. Many times my husband invited my parents to come and live with us, but they didn't want. They said, once they left the village, they wouldn't know what to do.My brother agreed with them. He said, 'Sis, you just take care of your parents-in-law. I will take care of Mom and Dad here.' My husband became the director of his factory. We asked my brother to accept the offer of being themanager in the maintenance department. But my brother rejected the offer. He insisted on workingas a repairman instead for a start. One day, my brother was on the top of a ladder repairing a cable, when he got electrocuted, and wassent to the hospital.My husband and I visited him at the hospital. Looking at the plaster cast on his leg, I grumbled, 'Why did you reject the offer of being a manager? Managers won't do something dangerous like that. Now look at you - you are suffering a serious injury. Why didn't you just listen to us?' With a serious expression on his face, he defended his decision, 'Think of brother-in-law. He just became the director, and I being uneducated, and would become a manager, what kind of rumors would fly around?' My husband's eyes filled up with tears, and then I said,'But you lack in education only because of me!''Why do you talk about the past?' he said and then he held my hand.That year, he was 26 years old and I was 29 years old.
My brother was 30 years old when he married a farmer girl from the village. During the wedding reception, the master of ceremonies asked him, 'Who is the one person you respect and love the most?'Without even taking a time to think, he answered,' My sister.' He continued by telling a story I could not even remember.'When I was in primary school, the school was in a different village. Everyday, my sister and I would walk for 2 hours to school and back home. One day, I lost the other pair of my gloves. My sister gave me one of hers. She wore only one glove and she had to walk far. When we got home, her hands were trembling because of the cold weather that she could not even hold her chopsticks. From that day on, I swore that as long as I live, I would take care of my sister and will always be good to her.' Applause filled up the room.
All guests turned their attention to me.I found it hard to speak, 'In my whole life, the one I would like to thank most is my brother, 'And in this happy occasion, in front of the crowd, tears were rolling down my face again.
Love and care for the one you love every single day of your life. You may think what you did is just a small deed, but to that someone, it may mean a lot.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
The inimitable TamBrams
Disclaimer :
This is a fwd which i got almost an year back.
Proud to be a TamBram :)
====================================================================
TAMBRAM Thouroughbred"YOU graduated in Literature, right?" asked my young cousin. "No, in Economics." I hastily clarified. "Economics Honours," I added for good measure.
The question coming from anyone else would have been innocuous, but from my cousin who was a third year engineering student, it was almost offending. As a card carrying member ofthe Tamilian Brahmin community,or TamBrams, as the endearment goes, I knew that in his world - and that included his parents, relatives, colony friends, project group, dormmates, someone whograduated in Literature obviously did so because he or she had a learning disability.
The poor thing was a freak who couldn't get admission into an engineering college or even a pitiful, but definitely more acceptable, science course. Or worse, such a specimen was a wasted wanton whose desire to do B.A. was an irresponsible, rebellious act, almost akin to joining aNeo-Nazi like cult group and living on the edge of civilized society. In any such conversation with a bonafide TamBram, I find myself fervently hoping, that despite falling under the horrifying category of B.A Economics, with its connotations of statistics and analysis of numbers and trends, would redeem m a little in their maths-science obsessed eyes.
For a middle class Tam Bram family (and that means the whole lot of them for all TamBrams qualify as middle class if you take outlook and behaviour as parameters), mathematics andscience are not merely subjects in the school curriculum. They are a religion. And the dharmaof every Tam Bram student is to master them and pave his way to the heavenly portal of an IIT. Or at least, to the ordinary portal of a local engineering college, which the family will eventually reconcile to, in the absence of the 'real thing'.
The first time I seriously understood this was when I was in primary School and on one sunny day was gleefully reading out my final exam results to Grandpa who was sitting on the porch and frowning in attention.
"English: 90 percent, Hindi: 85 percent, Social Studies: 87percent.." I prattled on. "How much inmaths?" interrupted Grandpa. "Maths: 97 percent," I said grinning widely. "What happened to the remaining marks?" was his unexpected reaction. After which he asked me to fetch thequestion paper, spent the next two hours going through each problem and figured out where I could have lost the precious three marks. "Nothing less than a centum in Maths next time." he said finally.
'Centum' is a word unique to the TamBram world, that a child grows up listening to. It is a figure that even if sometimes elusive, is never lost sight of throughout the academic career.
Centum, Maths, Science, Brilliant Tutorials, Engineering, IIT, B.Tech, Computer Science, USA,Financial Aid, I-20, Student Visa, M.S, San Jose, California, Oracle, Microsoft, Intel.
These words and names are like carefully arranged furniture in the mental landscape of a TamBram boy - and increasingly girl - below the age of 25. Care is taken not to clutter it with anything related to useless stuff like literature, history or art. Show me a TamBram boy who wants to be a fashion designer, VJ, historian or air force pilot and I'll show you something wrong in his blood line. For all such are heathen, a blemish on the fair face of the community.
Till about 15 years ago, the only heathens were girls who did not sing. Formidable maamis from the neighbourhood would drop in for a casual afternoon gossip session with grandmom and onspying any hapless young girls in the vicinity, would pounce on them with the dreaded entreaty, "Oru paatu paadein." (Sing a song). A simple three word sentence, you would think, but in maamiland it is a deceptively camouflaged barometer of the girl's cultural grooming and readiness for TamBram society (read marriage market) and her mother's efforts in making her a fine Tamilian lady.
A TamBram girl's singing talents always have to be on standby, as they could be called upon by anyone no matter what the time of day, nature of the occasion or profile of the audience, bysimply uttering the three powerful words, "Oru Paatu Paadein." And woe betide the girl who in shameful ignorance, takes the words at face value. When the words were uttered by a visiting neighbour, I readily accepted and joyously broke into a popular Hindi film ditty. I had finished the second paragraph when I stopped to check audience response. My mother had a strained, embarrassed smile on her face, grandmom was scowling hard, an aunt hurriedly excusedherself and went inside and the venerable neighbour looked so disturbed, I thought she was on the verge of a heart attack. "Well..that was nice, but don't you sing any varnams or keerthanais?" she finally asked, after an awkward silence. My mother hurriedly explained how in the culturally bereft North we were unable to locate a Carnatic music teacher nearby...but hopefully by thissummer she would manage to do something about it.
That's when I realized that the only music that was expected to pour out of your mellifluous throat were classical Carnatic songs. If you didn't know any, you simply shut up and ducked out of sight of visiting maamis.
And if like me, you are a non-engineer-non-Carnatic-trained loser of a TamBram, you should be drowning yourself in a drum full of idli batter for having wasted this life time. And all the best forthe next one...
This is a fwd which i got almost an year back.
Proud to be a TamBram :)
====================================================================
TAMBRAM Thouroughbred"YOU graduated in Literature, right?" asked my young cousin. "No, in Economics." I hastily clarified. "Economics Honours," I added for good measure.
The question coming from anyone else would have been innocuous, but from my cousin who was a third year engineering student, it was almost offending. As a card carrying member ofthe Tamilian Brahmin community,or TamBrams, as the endearment goes, I knew that in his world - and that included his parents, relatives, colony friends, project group, dormmates, someone whograduated in Literature obviously did so because he or she had a learning disability.
The poor thing was a freak who couldn't get admission into an engineering college or even a pitiful, but definitely more acceptable, science course. Or worse, such a specimen was a wasted wanton whose desire to do B.A. was an irresponsible, rebellious act, almost akin to joining aNeo-Nazi like cult group and living on the edge of civilized society. In any such conversation with a bonafide TamBram, I find myself fervently hoping, that despite falling under the horrifying category of B.A Economics, with its connotations of statistics and analysis of numbers and trends, would redeem m a little in their maths-science obsessed eyes.
For a middle class Tam Bram family (and that means the whole lot of them for all TamBrams qualify as middle class if you take outlook and behaviour as parameters), mathematics andscience are not merely subjects in the school curriculum. They are a religion. And the dharmaof every Tam Bram student is to master them and pave his way to the heavenly portal of an IIT. Or at least, to the ordinary portal of a local engineering college, which the family will eventually reconcile to, in the absence of the 'real thing'.
The first time I seriously understood this was when I was in primary School and on one sunny day was gleefully reading out my final exam results to Grandpa who was sitting on the porch and frowning in attention.
"English: 90 percent, Hindi: 85 percent, Social Studies: 87percent.." I prattled on. "How much inmaths?" interrupted Grandpa. "Maths: 97 percent," I said grinning widely. "What happened to the remaining marks?" was his unexpected reaction. After which he asked me to fetch thequestion paper, spent the next two hours going through each problem and figured out where I could have lost the precious three marks. "Nothing less than a centum in Maths next time." he said finally.
'Centum' is a word unique to the TamBram world, that a child grows up listening to. It is a figure that even if sometimes elusive, is never lost sight of throughout the academic career.
Centum, Maths, Science, Brilliant Tutorials, Engineering, IIT, B.Tech, Computer Science, USA,Financial Aid, I-20, Student Visa, M.S, San Jose, California, Oracle, Microsoft, Intel.
These words and names are like carefully arranged furniture in the mental landscape of a TamBram boy - and increasingly girl - below the age of 25. Care is taken not to clutter it with anything related to useless stuff like literature, history or art. Show me a TamBram boy who wants to be a fashion designer, VJ, historian or air force pilot and I'll show you something wrong in his blood line. For all such are heathen, a blemish on the fair face of the community.
Till about 15 years ago, the only heathens were girls who did not sing. Formidable maamis from the neighbourhood would drop in for a casual afternoon gossip session with grandmom and onspying any hapless young girls in the vicinity, would pounce on them with the dreaded entreaty, "Oru paatu paadein." (Sing a song). A simple three word sentence, you would think, but in maamiland it is a deceptively camouflaged barometer of the girl's cultural grooming and readiness for TamBram society (read marriage market) and her mother's efforts in making her a fine Tamilian lady.
A TamBram girl's singing talents always have to be on standby, as they could be called upon by anyone no matter what the time of day, nature of the occasion or profile of the audience, bysimply uttering the three powerful words, "Oru Paatu Paadein." And woe betide the girl who in shameful ignorance, takes the words at face value. When the words were uttered by a visiting neighbour, I readily accepted and joyously broke into a popular Hindi film ditty. I had finished the second paragraph when I stopped to check audience response. My mother had a strained, embarrassed smile on her face, grandmom was scowling hard, an aunt hurriedly excusedherself and went inside and the venerable neighbour looked so disturbed, I thought she was on the verge of a heart attack. "Well..that was nice, but don't you sing any varnams or keerthanais?" she finally asked, after an awkward silence. My mother hurriedly explained how in the culturally bereft North we were unable to locate a Carnatic music teacher nearby...but hopefully by thissummer she would manage to do something about it.
That's when I realized that the only music that was expected to pour out of your mellifluous throat were classical Carnatic songs. If you didn't know any, you simply shut up and ducked out of sight of visiting maamis.
And if like me, you are a non-engineer-non-Carnatic-trained loser of a TamBram, you should be drowning yourself in a drum full of idli batter for having wasted this life time. And all the best forthe next one...
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
My cycle's story!!!
It hardly takes 30 min to walk from my house to my office, but it will be little difficult to spend that much amount of time and of course energy early in the morning. I used to walk for some 15 min to the Jayadeva bus stop, wait there for 5 min, get into a crowded bus and come to office with a lot of difficulty. Even this took me almost half an hour and it depended a lot on the famous Bangalore traffic. So I decided to get myself a vehicle. I didn’t have any option other than to go for a bicycle. Yes, I don’t know how to ride a bike. Many people used to ask me one question when they saw me coming to office in my cycle or whenever they hear me talking about it. And the question was “Why did you buy a bicycle rather than getting a bike?” Here is the answer. : )
Starting from my childhood days I didn’t have any attraction towards bikes. I started going to school in a cycle when I was in my 5th standard. We were in trichy that time and my father got two BSA SLR cycles, one for me and the other for my brother. Once we got transferred to Madras after that, my school was almost 12 to 15 Km from my house. So I started going to school in PTC bus. We have a Bajaj scooter at home which my father uses. I didn’t even bother to learn it as it doesn’t look good and of course that was an age where always wanted to prove point to people around you that you are the best and you do all the best things in life. I switched back to my cycle during my last 2 years of schooling in Pondicherry. I didn’t get an opportunity to learn bike driving during that time too as I was totally engrossed with my studies.
In college I didn’t have close friends who can lend me their bikes so that I can learn. I did learn how to drive un-geared vehicles. Once I drove from Mount road LIC building till my college in Chromepet after my friend who owns the bike met with a minor accident. It should have been a 20 Km drive. So I don’t have any fear when it comes to driving on busy roads.
Even after my college days, I didn’t get any enthusiasm for driving bikes. But I contemplated over getting a second hand bike from my uncle and start learning it from him. But a friend of mine gave me a very good suggestion that it is better to get a 4 wheeler license along with a 2 wheeler rather than getting only a 2 wheeler license. Considering this factor I dropped the idea of getting the bike from my uncle.
I had another reason for getting a cycle. I was not doing my exercises properly and I my physical fitness was going from bad to worse. My mom suggested that cycling will be a good exercise and I can reduce my tummy. Another reason was that most of my team mates in office were making fun of me that I used to ask them lifts to my house.
So one good day I decided to buy a new cycle. Now I need to find a good place to buy it. I searched in newspapers, enquired people in office and also had a post in my office bulletin board. First I went to a cycle shop near the jayadeva signal but found it to be too costly as it was a retail shop. Then I decided to go to K.R. market which should be 10 km from my house. I wanted someone to bargain for me so I took one of my college senior who works in my office. We both went in his vehicle and tried out in 2 or 3 shops there. At last we found a shop named ‘Madras cycle importing Co.’ and thought that the shop owner is a Tamilian and we can easily bargain there. Unfortunately he wasn’t a Tamilian and we somehow managed to bargain for 300 bugs and I got a new Hero Exodus bicycle.
Then came the toughest part of the whole game. I have not been on cycle for almost 6 years and I had to ride back the cycle to my house which was 10 to 12 km from there. Somehow I managed to do it 45 min thanks to my iPod. : )
I called up my parents to inform about my new vehicle. My mom was very happy that I have at least listened to her words and got myself a cycle. I had a wonderful sleep after that for two reasons. One due to tiredness and the two, my father told me something which I can’t forget for my life. He said “Even I started my career with a bicycle”.
Starting from my childhood days I didn’t have any attraction towards bikes. I started going to school in a cycle when I was in my 5th standard. We were in trichy that time and my father got two BSA SLR cycles, one for me and the other for my brother. Once we got transferred to Madras after that, my school was almost 12 to 15 Km from my house. So I started going to school in PTC bus. We have a Bajaj scooter at home which my father uses. I didn’t even bother to learn it as it doesn’t look good and of course that was an age where always wanted to prove point to people around you that you are the best and you do all the best things in life. I switched back to my cycle during my last 2 years of schooling in Pondicherry. I didn’t get an opportunity to learn bike driving during that time too as I was totally engrossed with my studies.
In college I didn’t have close friends who can lend me their bikes so that I can learn. I did learn how to drive un-geared vehicles. Once I drove from Mount road LIC building till my college in Chromepet after my friend who owns the bike met with a minor accident. It should have been a 20 Km drive. So I don’t have any fear when it comes to driving on busy roads.
Even after my college days, I didn’t get any enthusiasm for driving bikes. But I contemplated over getting a second hand bike from my uncle and start learning it from him. But a friend of mine gave me a very good suggestion that it is better to get a 4 wheeler license along with a 2 wheeler rather than getting only a 2 wheeler license. Considering this factor I dropped the idea of getting the bike from my uncle.
I had another reason for getting a cycle. I was not doing my exercises properly and I my physical fitness was going from bad to worse. My mom suggested that cycling will be a good exercise and I can reduce my tummy. Another reason was that most of my team mates in office were making fun of me that I used to ask them lifts to my house.
So one good day I decided to buy a new cycle. Now I need to find a good place to buy it. I searched in newspapers, enquired people in office and also had a post in my office bulletin board. First I went to a cycle shop near the jayadeva signal but found it to be too costly as it was a retail shop. Then I decided to go to K.R. market which should be 10 km from my house. I wanted someone to bargain for me so I took one of my college senior who works in my office. We both went in his vehicle and tried out in 2 or 3 shops there. At last we found a shop named ‘Madras cycle importing Co.’ and thought that the shop owner is a Tamilian and we can easily bargain there. Unfortunately he wasn’t a Tamilian and we somehow managed to bargain for 300 bugs and I got a new Hero Exodus bicycle.
Then came the toughest part of the whole game. I have not been on cycle for almost 6 years and I had to ride back the cycle to my house which was 10 to 12 km from there. Somehow I managed to do it 45 min thanks to my iPod. : )
I called up my parents to inform about my new vehicle. My mom was very happy that I have at least listened to her words and got myself a cycle. I had a wonderful sleep after that for two reasons. One due to tiredness and the two, my father told me something which I can’t forget for my life. He said “Even I started my career with a bicycle”.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Double dhamaka at Madurai
I switched on the TV today morning after an eventual Saturday night. India thrashed Australia in the T20 match, ManU drubbing Aston Villa 4-1 at Villa Park and my darling Massa taking pole position in his home grand prix.. I saw a marquee running in Kalaingar TV yesterday saying that they are going to telecast “Mozhi’ for the second time. The movie had started and I should have missed some 45 min.
I went to Madurai this Feb I guess along with my uncle to see few temples in and around Thanjavur. We went to my aunt’s place in Madurai and we didn’t have any plans as such. So I took my cousin brother Jagan to watch some movies. I was looking at the posters outside and there was a theatre complex (sorry I forgot the name) where they were showing 3 different movies, “Mozhi”, “Pachai kili Muthu charam”(PKMC) and “Pokiri”.
Being the greatest fan of Vijay(of course sarcastic) I decided to try out the other 2 movies. I am a person who watches the movies for the directors. Mozhi was Radhamohan’s movie and PKMC was gautam menon’s movie. I wanted to watch PKMC first because of Gautam’s reputation of giving very good movies but because of my cousin’s wish we went for Mozhi first.
Mozhi – in Tamil means language. This should be the best movie I saw this year and I wish this doesn’t remain the best as I am eagerly awaiting the release of “Dasavatharam”. The story is about a music composer who falls in love with a deaf and dumb girl who lives in his own apartment. It is a very sensible movie and the whole credit should go to the director Radha Mohan. Of course Jothika, Prithviraj and Prakash raj did their roles to perfection. It is one movie which you can watch in theatre with your family. I think such movies are becoming very rare nowadays where directors give more importance to masala stuffs rather than giving good movies.I wanted to take my parents to the movie but my mom watched it in pirated CD and my father is not interested in watching movies. So I had to drop that idea. :(
But I wonder how many of you have watched Radha Mohan’s first movie. Any guesses for the movie name?
The movie is “Azhagiya theye”. To me this movie was slightly better than Mozhi. I watched this movie in Udhayam theatre during my final year of college with some 20 of my class mates. It is a movie about a young man who wants to become a big movie director. This was also a Prakash raj production with Navya Nair donning the lead role with Prasanna. The story begins with Navya getting engaged to Prakash raj but she doesn’t want to get married to him. She introduces Prasanna as her boy friend to Prakash raj, and Prakash raj lets them stay together in his house and only after that the whole movie starts. This is one movie where the director had pictured a living together relationship with dignity unlike movies like ‘Salaam namaste’. It is one of my most favorite movies and a must see if you are a fan of good movies.
After Mozhi it was the turn of PKMC. We went for the evening show and my cousin didn’t like it at all. But it was a good movie but bad to gautam menon’s standards. If one watches the movie without knowing anything about the storyline or the character Jothika plays in the movie it will be a good watch. We thought of going for a late night show after PKMC but decided against it.
For ppl in Bangalore I am going to give you some shocker now. We watched these two movies in a A/C theatre with DTS for Rs.20/ticket. So for 2 movies we spent just Rs.80. So when are u ppl travelling to Madurai. :)
I went to Madurai this Feb I guess along with my uncle to see few temples in and around Thanjavur. We went to my aunt’s place in Madurai and we didn’t have any plans as such. So I took my cousin brother Jagan to watch some movies. I was looking at the posters outside and there was a theatre complex (sorry I forgot the name) where they were showing 3 different movies, “Mozhi”, “Pachai kili Muthu charam”(PKMC) and “Pokiri”.
Being the greatest fan of Vijay(of course sarcastic) I decided to try out the other 2 movies. I am a person who watches the movies for the directors. Mozhi was Radhamohan’s movie and PKMC was gautam menon’s movie. I wanted to watch PKMC first because of Gautam’s reputation of giving very good movies but because of my cousin’s wish we went for Mozhi first.
Mozhi – in Tamil means language. This should be the best movie I saw this year and I wish this doesn’t remain the best as I am eagerly awaiting the release of “Dasavatharam”. The story is about a music composer who falls in love with a deaf and dumb girl who lives in his own apartment. It is a very sensible movie and the whole credit should go to the director Radha Mohan. Of course Jothika, Prithviraj and Prakash raj did their roles to perfection. It is one movie which you can watch in theatre with your family. I think such movies are becoming very rare nowadays where directors give more importance to masala stuffs rather than giving good movies.I wanted to take my parents to the movie but my mom watched it in pirated CD and my father is not interested in watching movies. So I had to drop that idea. :(
But I wonder how many of you have watched Radha Mohan’s first movie. Any guesses for the movie name?
The movie is “Azhagiya theye”. To me this movie was slightly better than Mozhi. I watched this movie in Udhayam theatre during my final year of college with some 20 of my class mates. It is a movie about a young man who wants to become a big movie director. This was also a Prakash raj production with Navya Nair donning the lead role with Prasanna. The story begins with Navya getting engaged to Prakash raj but she doesn’t want to get married to him. She introduces Prasanna as her boy friend to Prakash raj, and Prakash raj lets them stay together in his house and only after that the whole movie starts. This is one movie where the director had pictured a living together relationship with dignity unlike movies like ‘Salaam namaste’. It is one of my most favorite movies and a must see if you are a fan of good movies.
After Mozhi it was the turn of PKMC. We went for the evening show and my cousin didn’t like it at all. But it was a good movie but bad to gautam menon’s standards. If one watches the movie without knowing anything about the storyline or the character Jothika plays in the movie it will be a good watch. We thought of going for a late night show after PKMC but decided against it.
For ppl in Bangalore I am going to give you some shocker now. We watched these two movies in a A/C theatre with DTS for Rs.20/ticket. So for 2 movies we spent just Rs.80. So when are u ppl travelling to Madurai. :)
My first Blog
I welcome myself to the blog world... i just wonder why it took so many days to start blogging even though i have heard my friends talking a lot about it. I am planning to write everything that comes to my mind. Truth and nothing other than that. I am a little bad when it comes to writing so in my blogging process i wish to improve it.
My first story is about something which i love a lot and very dear to my heart. "Carrom"
I started playing carrom from a very small age when we were in Thanjavur. I was then a small kid say 3 or 4 year old. I used to go to my neighbours place and disturb then while playing. I used to come back home and tell my father that even I want to play that game. I was so excited and interested in playing carrom and i got used to it very soon. I will go crazy if i lose a game. Mostly my father and my brother used to be in the receiving end of my coins and striker missiles. We 4 of us, i.e my Appa, Amma and Sriram used to play doubles and i always chose my Amma to be my partner. She is little bad in playing carrom and I always wanted to prove a point to my carrom Guru "my Appa" and my dear bro. Most of the times we used to win with some help from my father and at times my bro used to furious. Hope he agrees with me regarding this.
I used to play carrom very seriously and i cant accept defeat. I always feel that i can beat anyone in this world, even Maria irudhayam on my day. I had a wonderful carrom partner in my college days. Seeni is some one who understands my game a lot and we always formed a very good doubles pair. We won 2 doubles championships together and i had won another with Vikram in my second year. I won the singles championships 4 times in my 4 years stay in MIT.
After my college days i played carrom very few times. I also tried out snooker, 9 ball pool when i was in the Infy mysore campus. But nothing made me happy and i dunno the reason. Carrom was so dear to me. For the past one week i have got back my happiness. Yes, i started playing carrom again. Honeywell has a yearly festival named HTS Utsav for which they conduct various competitions and carrom is one among them. So they have few carrom boards for practice and I am started playing from the first day. I was the person to inaugurate it. :)
Yesterday after a very long time i played tough carrom. It is a very tricky game when it comes to doubles. There are lots of decisions one need to make especially if ur opponents are good and a single mistake cud be fatal. I was playing with a beginner and we were against 2 champions from2 different colleges. So it was only me who had to take up the whole responsibilty. Carrom is one game i tell u where if both the players are good then it becomes little disadvantageous to the team. It is always better that one take the hold of the game and the other person plays for his partner. This was how I used to win a lot of games when i was in college. Seeni used to play for me and it was that understanding that helped us winning.
Even though we gave a tough fight coming back from 19 – 0 we eventually lost it 29 - 21. The game went on till 11 in the night and i just wonder how i was able to play till that time. Ennala pasi thaanga mudiyathu. But this was very analogous to wht Thiruvalluvar had said
"Sevikku unavu illa tha pothu sirithu
vayirukku eeya padum"
I was totally involved in the game and i was very happy that i played well yesterday night. I reached home by 12 30 walking from my Honeywell office with my greatest companion "My iPod". Woke up to my Mom's call at 8 in the morning. It is ayudha Pooja today and she was shouting at me and asked me to go to Thatha’s place for Puja.
I came back to the real world from the wonderful world of carrom.
My first story is about something which i love a lot and very dear to my heart. "Carrom"
I started playing carrom from a very small age when we were in Thanjavur. I was then a small kid say 3 or 4 year old. I used to go to my neighbours place and disturb then while playing. I used to come back home and tell my father that even I want to play that game. I was so excited and interested in playing carrom and i got used to it very soon. I will go crazy if i lose a game. Mostly my father and my brother used to be in the receiving end of my coins and striker missiles. We 4 of us, i.e my Appa, Amma and Sriram used to play doubles and i always chose my Amma to be my partner. She is little bad in playing carrom and I always wanted to prove a point to my carrom Guru "my Appa" and my dear bro. Most of the times we used to win with some help from my father and at times my bro used to furious. Hope he agrees with me regarding this.
I used to play carrom very seriously and i cant accept defeat. I always feel that i can beat anyone in this world, even Maria irudhayam on my day. I had a wonderful carrom partner in my college days. Seeni is some one who understands my game a lot and we always formed a very good doubles pair. We won 2 doubles championships together and i had won another with Vikram in my second year. I won the singles championships 4 times in my 4 years stay in MIT.
After my college days i played carrom very few times. I also tried out snooker, 9 ball pool when i was in the Infy mysore campus. But nothing made me happy and i dunno the reason. Carrom was so dear to me. For the past one week i have got back my happiness. Yes, i started playing carrom again. Honeywell has a yearly festival named HTS Utsav for which they conduct various competitions and carrom is one among them. So they have few carrom boards for practice and I am started playing from the first day. I was the person to inaugurate it. :)
Yesterday after a very long time i played tough carrom. It is a very tricky game when it comes to doubles. There are lots of decisions one need to make especially if ur opponents are good and a single mistake cud be fatal. I was playing with a beginner and we were against 2 champions from2 different colleges. So it was only me who had to take up the whole responsibilty. Carrom is one game i tell u where if both the players are good then it becomes little disadvantageous to the team. It is always better that one take the hold of the game and the other person plays for his partner. This was how I used to win a lot of games when i was in college. Seeni used to play for me and it was that understanding that helped us winning.
Even though we gave a tough fight coming back from 19 – 0 we eventually lost it 29 - 21. The game went on till 11 in the night and i just wonder how i was able to play till that time. Ennala pasi thaanga mudiyathu. But this was very analogous to wht Thiruvalluvar had said
"Sevikku unavu illa tha pothu sirithu
vayirukku eeya padum"
I was totally involved in the game and i was very happy that i played well yesterday night. I reached home by 12 30 walking from my Honeywell office with my greatest companion "My iPod". Woke up to my Mom's call at 8 in the morning. It is ayudha Pooja today and she was shouting at me and asked me to go to Thatha’s place for Puja.
I came back to the real world from the wonderful world of carrom.
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