12 Nov 2015


A soaring spirit in a fragile frame;
Brittle but yet so hard to tame.
It wails & squeals & pricks me within
This raging Minotaur yearns escape.

Tied to me? Or am I to it?
The eternal question that fails to tire.
Just stay civil, try being benign, and
Just don't torture up till my pyre.

The sages tried with all their might;
The learned with their rational ways.
The ignorant me just pleads on my knees.
But all in vain. All in vain.

There's no agony worse than the self
Nor any joy if not for it.
Hard to treat them just as equal
When tears don't cease to touch the soil.

What is soul but just a thought?
And what is thought but the soul?
Why is there a battle between
And why care if there'd be victory!

Write, you will, with all your will, for
That's just a sane thing to do.
But tell me how to pin this down
This monster in disguise within.

3 May 2015

Uttama Villainous

After all the uncertainty in being able to watch the movie, it all started like, "Yeah, go ahead, amaze me as usual". But I was let down. It's one thing to not have great expectations, and another to have none at all. I had none, and was still disappointed.

I don't know about most others out there, but more than whatever a movie intends to convey, all I expect to get out of one is just an experience, and it hurt to have not gotten much. I know little of the jargon involved, but I think there are certain terms like - character arc, conflict, etc. Whatever composes a good one, I'm sure they're all there - but just weren't put together as well as they should've been. The sum of parts was indeed greater than the whole, but the latter seemed to be much lesser than the former.

---Spoilers ahead---

There's this movie Uttama Villain that we go to watch but end up having to watch the movie made within - also, Uttama Villain. The real one revolves around Manoranjan (Kamal Haasan), a "star actor", while the one within is about Uttaman (of course, Kamal Haasan), also an actor - a theater artist. And Manoranjan is clearly the Villain - he differs with the very definition of morality, he does things that his wife (Urvashi) wouldn't want him to, has a grey past that returns to haunt him, all in addition to an unfortunate medical condition. But he's also the hero in his world, and everybody loves him.

Manoranjan realizes he'd die soon, but wants to live forever with his legacy. Unfolding his tragedy, he requests his mentor Maargadharisi (K Balachander) to direct for him a 'comedy', that would "have the audience come out all happy & laughing". Thus starts the filming of 'Uttama Villain' produced by Manomaarga Productions. Of course, nice word-play there.


Enter Uttaman. If you've listened the songs, you might already have a good idea about his introduction. Well, a few incidents make those around him believe that he's immortal & has conquered death, and amidst a coup, he's sought-after & becomes a close aide of the new king. And in all these, you get to play a how-fast-can-you-get-this-reference-to-an-idea-in-a-religion-that-I'm-mocking, and just when you feel a little bored of all this, you're rescued to Manoranjan's. But for the role of Gnanasambandam, I was glad to be rescued. And that "என்ன தான் இருந்தாலும் இடது காது போல் வருமா!" was undeniably a beauty.

Manoranjan's father-in-law Poorna Chandra Rao (K Viswanath) was, well, just there, with not much of an establishment other than going to an extreme to get Manoranjan married to his daughter. And there's a legal dispute involving him & Maargadharisi for an undisclosed reason - or pardon me for not being able to remember if there's anything being mentioned of it. Manoranjan eventually lets his family know of his condition, and the debutante playing his son, and Urvashi get to deliver the best they can, but for not more than a few minutes.


The major shifts in the narrative are the ones cutting to the parallel story & I only wish they could've been better placed. Compare this with Vishwaroopam / Virumandi where the narrative beautifully unwraps the story, this just felt odd. On paper, there are so many things to look at - so many that one might end up missing a few. And perhaps to avoid that, some of thse are said, instead of being shown. Packed into all this is an autobiography, but certain moments seemed to have been plugged in there for no reason at all. e.g. fans waiting outside his home & shouting "போகாத! போகாத!" - why is that even there at all? Correct me if I'm wrong - nobody other than the inner circles of Manoranjan know of his condition, and out of the blue, fans shout at his doorstep; if it's for a different reason, what's that? I've no idea.


I loved him. Throughout the movie, the actual movie that we're watching, it looks as if Kamal Haasan is asking the director, "really? is this the silly thing that you expect of me?" & goes on do it effortlessly and look like a boss. 'யானைய விட்டு சுள்ளி பொறுக்கச் சொல்றதா!' level of ease. There aren't many who could pull such intensive close-ups off so well. Of course, it's Kamal Haasan.

That less-than-a-minute-or-two scene of Manoranjan walking out of the room laughing & walking around the room looking through the window at his family - is something that would make one love both Manoranjan & Kamal Haasan.

The narrative cuts to Uttaman's story, and some lines seemingly written to be funny, were just not funny right there. Felt the movie trying too hard to get me involved, but I just couldn't do it. It didn't evoke most emotions that it seemingly intended to. Barring a few scenes, the actual movie Uttama Villain fell flat, mainly, due to the the story's villain that's Uttaman. And I doubt if anyone on watching the Uttama Villain made in there would come out "happy & laughing".

To me, this is a movie that was well-written, but not well-delivered. It was like a buying a beautiful doll, but on opening the box, noticing it's broken. I still can't throw it away, for the pieces are too good to be discarded. So I just accept it to be something unfortunate and that it's of an unfulfilled glory. And move on.

Many a time, an artists intends to convey one thing, and the critics / audiences extrapolate it to a ten or a hundred. I only feel sorry for not being able to get them all. And the Villain is the one I ended up loving. Well, with full awareness that I'm not qualified enough to nitpick a work of தலைவர், all I say is - I think I'm not lucky enough to have been able to like it. 😑

If you're still reading, thank you for doing so, despite this being incoherent. For a good write-up, read this.

20 Apr 2015

Swachch Bharat? Sach Bharat.

My first employer had an entire day assigned just for this session on "Speaking up", back when I had just joined the organization. But I've come to understand its importance only recently.

To & fro, I travel everyday for nearly 3.5 hrs, and in the past few months, I've been using more of public transport than I've ever done, and I come across various classes of people all commuting in harmony, and sometimes even amidst mini stampedes. Dailies of many languages are sold at the railway stations, and Chennai, surprisingly to me, seems to have a lot of diversity, at least in its literate crowd. There are college students chatting loud all the way; drunkards sitting at the entrances conversing with their imaginary; old vendors rushing into the general compartments with all their commodities that would pay them for the day; mid-aged couple fighting some family issue out, while continuously trying in vain to control their soaring voices; a mother boarding a compartment, sitting near the pathway taking nothing more than a steel plate & a twig, and starts beating the plate with the other, while her(?) children perform acrobatics & then begging through the compartment, and calmly shift to the next at the next station.

Looking at all these, one can only feel helpless about oneself - one can help neither oneself nor others, for one doesn't simply question what happens around them. Why can't one ask the noisy students to, at least, be a little less louder? Why can't one ask the vendors to get into the vendors' compartment? Why can't one tell the mid-aged couple that settling their differences in public doesn't sound good bu only remains an annoyance to their co-passengers? Why can't one who can't bear the sight of those children begging, talk to their mother(?) of seeking refuge in an NGO / something?

Okay, I've absolutely no idea about the last point, for I myself have been trying to find an answer. But I think you get my point. The common man, is mostly oblivious to his universe, as long as things don't affect him in any way. True, there are exceptions, and the need of the hour, IMO, is many such exceptions - those who question, or at least voice their opinion out on what they feel to be uncomfortable. 'putting up with things' seems to have become our national hobby - just like forgetfulness is a national disease. Instead, 'speaking up' is what I think should replace it.

I didn't mention one common thing I find in my daily commute, and to begin with, that's the one particular thing I've been speaking up against - littering. I think I can confidently say that I've encountered every possible comeback to my question, "Why can't you keep it with you & later throw it in a dustbin?"

The best & worst answer, I'd say, is of course, the eternal, "Who're you to question that? Mind your own business."

There was a guy who was spitting at 3 - 5 stations consecutively, and when I walked up to him & simply gestured a "Why?", he looked ashamed and didn't do it anymore. Win - win, IMO.

A group of employees, aged, I think, 30-50, got in & sat in my row. They were visibly happy over the end of their day's work, and were having some food. The moment they were done, one dropped the cover on the floor, and I told him that he could've disposed it off properly, later. He got into a defence-mode and started arguing if he was the only person to litter, even extending his argument over moral questions as to whether women dress appropriately / couples behave well / politicians are disciplined / Swachch Bharat Abhiyaan is just about photo-ops. Well, the best answer to an accusation is simply another. Even worse, his colleague went onto say that I was right to ask him, but the way in which I did wasn't: I should've picked that cover up myself, and that would've made him feel ashamed & thus change him forever. Man, it's really hard to please some members of the public out there!

Another evening, I was looking through the window, when someone asked me to throw something out of it. As usual, I asked him to dispose it off later, and he sat down. Just a few seconds later, he stood up, murmured something at me, and threw it off himself, despite my resistance. I raised my voice, and tried to gather support from the co-passengers asking them to have their say against this. Dead silence in what sounded like a market just a moment ago.

A college student & her friend were done with their snacks, and just in time, I laid my hand across the window, stopping them from throwing the wrapper off. She smiled at her friend, saying, "Swachch Bharat!", and after a few seconds, "nice yaar!"

Another elder, when being questioned for his littering, asked if I have no respect for his age, and went on to accuse me of not offering him my seat earlier.

It's certainly bloody hard to deal with such people who refuse to answer you but stack layers of accusation in their defense. But that doesn't mean they should stop being questioned. That only stresses the need to voice oneself out & seek a reform that one wishes to see. This is gonna sound cliche, but seriously, dude! be the bloody change you wanna see! Change, if you haven't already.

Next time you're on the road / in a public transport and someone litters, step out of your cave and look daggers / question / shout at the litterer & speak up! Seriously! At least, talk out loud, click your tongue, murmur that they're incorrigible; To put it short, do something about it!

I've had the opportunity to learn a teeny tiny bit of Krishna Yajur Veda, and one verse in it says, "नाप्सु मूत्रपुरीषम् कुर्यात् | न निष्ठीयात् | " - simply meaning, "One shouldn't urinate on water. Neither should one spit into it. ". Even by a modest dating of 3000 yrs, it's hard to believe, and at the same time shameful, that a civilization that had once conformed to such a level of cleanliness is now being reduced to rubble, piece by piece.

Sigh! Peace!

25 Jun 2014


So I went home this weekend too - to Thanjavur. As usual, as someone with no plans & someone fond of public transport, esp. the general class ones, I went hopping a few buses. Bangalore - Hosur - Salem - Trichy - Thanjavur. Thankfully, this time, I got a direct bus to Salem from the 1st point, but not thankfully, it seemed to have more # of stops than from there to Silk Board, leaving the bypass & cutting through every village possible.

At around 11 PM, i.e. after some 5+ hrs, I reached Salem. I had dinner at a Sri Saravana Bhavan (no, not HSB) which was a rava dosa I could finish in less than a minute but had to pay for it Rs. 55. Such are the times I feel blessed for having a job & not having to beg in front of the same hotel. Anyway, I boarded a bus to Trichy, and no sooner did the bus start, there was this guy – tall, sorta well-built, thick-bearded, checked-shirt, village hero's friend-types with a shoulder bag bearing a name plagiarized from an intl. brand – walked from the rear & sat at the corner seat right at the entrance, facing the steps. From my seat at the one right next to the steps, I could see him struggling for something & hesitating to blurt it out. The conductor was coming on his way back to his seat near the driver’s, and this guy just raised his little finger to him like a kindergarten kid, making me re-live the moment from a POTC part with the ferocious-looking Indian king having a gurly voice. “innum Salem thANdala! adhukkuLLa!” [we're yet to cross Salem, but already!], the conductor exclaimed, quite definitely annoyed. Yet he stopped at the next stop possible, and asked this guy to go get his thing done asap. This guy just exited the bus, stood less than a foot away from someone waiting there & unzipped. The observing wait-er just moved a couple of feet away in disgust, while I & the guy sitting next to me, unanimously cringed. Despite the bus having started, the guy didn't seem to be done with it, but soon got in through the back door & came back to his seat.

I was into a book, and just a few minutes later, I heard something so mild, and looking up, saw this guy spit right at his step, inside the bus. Yeah, inside. For the first time ever, I raised my voice at a stranger all by myself, in a public place. And that's when I was sure that he was drunk. A couple of sentences later, the conductor arrived there, scolded him with words I didn't want to use, while I just poured over it some water from my bottle. That guy kept staring at me for some time since then, but soon dozed off. And that's when I & the one next to me went into a conversation that continued till I alighted at Trichy.

My usual conversation starter template in a bus is “So, uh, you're going to X?”. He was to Velankanni, for his son's head-shaving ceremony at the church there – one of the oldest & very famous ones, btw. The ceremony, of course, wasn’t originally a Christian thing, but AFAIK, in TN, there are many who ritually visit the holy places of other religions carrying their own rituals, while some wouldn't think beyond their sub-caste's-sub-sect's-sub-society's-sub-family.

So you're a Christian?”, asked I.

No, I'm a Muslim”.

First surprise. “Oh, that's nice. I've never been there. It's quite famous, I know.

Even I haven't been there. First time."

So you don't go there every year?

No. Not that I wouldn't have gone, but I was a Hindu earlier.

A bigger surprise. “Then why Velankanni?

My wife is a Christian.

I was like, “Wow!”, but asked, “How did your family agree to this?

Love marriage, actually. But they were convinced eventually.” Only later in the conversation, that too when I asked him of his age, he said that he was 23, and that he was a BA in Economics.

Okay, so, by the age of twenty-bleddy-damn-three, this guy had completed a degree in Economics, fell in mutual love with a girl, got married to her, had a kid, and converted to a different religion. Had I done any of these other than the first, I’d’ve been rusticated from my home. I could only envy the liberty he was bestowed. I sorta became an interviewer and bombarded him with questions of why, how & when, etc., and he patiently answered all of ‘em. Apparently, his parents-in-law wanted him to convert to Christianity, and he was asked to attend a few classes where a priest persuaded him with comparisons of the faiths, and this guy had defended it seriously back then. But a seed sown is sown, and that’s when he had begun to question the faith & system he grew up in. And once, in Chennai, he had met someone there, and was asked to consider adopting Islam. A few weeks later, after a lot of queries, he had converted. Initially, his parents & wife were all reluctant about it, but he said that he had assured them, “I would keep my faith to myself, and I promise not to force it upon anyone of you. I would respect yours, and I simply ask of you the same.

I was visibly impressed. But like every other convert, I think, he was quite defensive about his new faith, comparing his & others holding his high, but at the same time, surprisingly, not trashing the other. We talked about a lot of stories, belief systems, rituals, etc., during which he mentioned about this temple kailAsanAthar kOil at kAramangaLam, near Salem, and a few others namely pudhooredappAdi & nangavalli. He used to visit them often, and would always hang out with the tourist guides befriending them and learning much about those sculptures. Apparently, whenever someone starts building a temple, the masons would take an oath that they wouldn’t try building it similar to the said temple, for there’s no other in the world with its design & architecture – maybe just a legend, but quite interesting. Of the features he mentioned, I don’t remember much but a stone chain, a stone-ball that could be rotated independently of the lion’s mouth that it’s inside in, a deity’s weapon in which a broomstick could pass through a side & come out at another, and a lion making love with a woman – something I would never be able to come up with even in the wildest of my imaginations. Wild, indeed!

He also mentioned of a dhAdikkombu near ottanchaththiram & one sangagiri near erode which had similarly stunning temples but weren’t maintained properly, and their lakes being polluted with bottles from the nearby bars & plastics, and of course, defecation. And, just then, or maybe a little later, there was something stinking in there & I had dismissed it to be something that we were passing by. But it being persistent, the driver unable to tolerate it, switched the lights on & asked the conductor to check on it – only then did we discover that the drunk guy had puked right in front of his feet, seeing which I’d’ve puked myself, but offered to help the conductor, who tried hard to keep his verbal abuse down at him & went out to fetch some sand when the bus had stopped. The hilarious side of this was – the drunk guy stoop up with his bag thinking it was his stop to alight, while the conductor tried to make him sit, for else he’d slip & lose his life. I couldn’t resist walking up to him & shouting at him to make him sit while trying to make him understand that the bus was in the move & that he’d’n’t be able to stand anymore should he slightly slip. Some of the passengers behind were already in laughs, but this guy was oblivious to all of it, but not refusing to religiously stare at me quite often for the next hour or so before. The drink’s effect on him was over, and it was quite funny to see him so. Sadism, maybe, but he deserved it.

We were back to our convo, and he expressed his regret for not being able to speak in English. He now runs a service center for mobile phones, and he said he quit his native village for he was only getting lower-end phones there, but wanted to learn the Android ones for they were clearly nearly ubiquitous to him. I asked if he would take care of the s/w or the h/w, and he said, “Both”. Intrigued, I asked what sorta s/w issues he’d fix, and he said, “Mostly, someone would’ve forgotten the unlock pattern. If they remember their mail id & password, we can recover, but if not, I’ll have it flashed in an hour or two.

Anyway, all the data would be in the memory card, so what’s the problem?

But there won’t be any contacts no?” For someone who has his contacts synced with his Google account, this made me look quite ignorant of a common man w.r.t such things as these. “Images also they’re ready to forego, but contacts are more important for them. I can search for the required file, download, flash and all that, but it would take me some time, because English is a huge problem. I even attended some classes in VETA” – Vivekananda English Training Academy, a popular one at that – “but they didn’t help much, and I discontinued too.

That’s when I told him that I was just the same in my first year of college, kinda encouraging him that he only needed to practice, and that learning new words is of no use unless one can connect them to a sentence, with a few exercises starting with “My name is…”, “I’m going to…”, “I work at…”, etc. And he was visibly cheerful about it. He had cleared his school & graduation passing them all with 35%, and he wasn’t really into studies, and were only interested in mobile phones. He had taken this shop for a lease, paying an advance of 2L, and makes around a thousand to thousand five-hundred a day, and excluding all expenses towards rent, internet, his assistant’s salary, etc, gets around 15K for himself. At 23 years, (nearly 2 years younger than me) with a degree that’s generally considered lesser than mine (a B. Tech in Bioinformatics), with the love of his life (NA), being married (not for now), having a year-old kid already (of course, NA) earning 15K (a s/w engg. here), his confidence & stern statements were of nothing but of surprise to me. While I tell my parents that I don’t earn enough to run a family & constantly degrade myself (not without reasons though) citing a lot of much better ones, people such as this guy make me wonder if all that’s required of one to run a family is only confidence & nothing else!

The next day was spent in a lot other things, but having met this azhagarasan (a) Mohammed Abdullah was, even if anything else, a totally unique experience. When I alighted at Trichy, he asked, “Oh, you’re getting down uh?

Yeah, I’ll get a different one now. It was wonderful meeting you.

Me too. Are you on Facebook?

No, I don’t use it much.” – which despite being completely true has only become an excuse for me to not to extend my so-called “friends” list. But hey, hail Twitter! \m/

17 Jun 2014


The past weekend, I had been to my native. And when I was at a petrol bunk, someone just drove in on his bike & it seemed to be someone familiar to me. Only later did I recollect that it was one of the lecturers who taught us physics in our first year of college. He used to be fondly called 'periya mokka' - not without reasons. And I couldn't but other than be reminded of the following.

It was the a few days after the second mid-sem of my first year, and he had just then distributed to us our answer sheets evaluated. I knew I hadn't done well, in fact, it was one of my worst, and I was very much prepared for scoring less than 20 / 50. It was 17.5. And like always, we were also asked to check if there were any queries / clarifications / any mistakes in the totals, and very soon there were a few surrounding him. I went up to him too, and patiently waited for my turn.

"What?", asked he, in his signature blunt tone that would kinda sound accusing anyone just for having stood in front of him.

With all modesty, I replied, "Sir, total mistake, sir." and flipped the sheets myself for him.

"How much?"

"Sir, 1 mark, sir." [Or maybe just a half; pardon my memory]

He took the sheets from me, and looked at the first page that read in red "17.5 / 50" encircled by an incomplete circle. And he gave them back to me without any modification.

I insisted that there was a mistake & he seemed to just ignore me. A couple of minutes more of my presence there had clearly annoyed him, and with one last utterance of my "Sir, total mistake, sir. It's 17 and a half instead of 18 and a half, sir!", he turned to me & yelled at me in front of everybody there:


[oh, I won't beg your pardon for my memory, for these, I'm sure, were the very words I got yelled at with]

Undoubtedly, it was pretty embarrassing - not to have scored so low, but to have been yelled at in front of a lot of people. But then, I got that one and made it 18.5 - and this sorta compensated for that embarrassment.

Now, there I was, being reminded of this whole thing in a whiff of a second, while he just drove his bike away. The point is, I got yelled at for scoring low in a subject that I didn't like, while studying a course I have no idea how I got into, in pursuing a degree that I didn't want to, in a place I never thought I'd stay at, living a life with no purpose as of then.

And w.r.t to the last point, pretty clearly, even now. But so many of the things that happened earlier & later seem to have come out of thin air vanished back into it. I've done a few things I shouldn't've & a lot that I never thought I could've. I got into a job that I felt would feed my brain, enjoyed certain things that made me feel if I deserved them, met people of incredible potential, attitude & skills that I can never even dare to emulate, moved with a few who despite many odds had reached where we were, and even came across people who made me think that I lived a far better life than theirs.

I digress. The point is, you might get yelled at for being yourself, however stupid. But what's fun without stupidity? I realize I'm getting less stupider everyday while getting seasoned by the society around me, and it sounds alarming. So, just as many other greats did earlier, I suggest, you, whatever you are, even if you don't know what, remain yourself. And thou shalt fail to do so if and only shalt thou wish to make thyself better, and that, as per thy own standards and not by any other's.

That one mark couldn't have changed my internals, let alone my life, but that I insisted to get it, however low, only because I deserved it, or at least I thought so. And those in the room then, I'm sure wouldn't have changed their view of mine just because of that.

I digress again.

21 Apr 2014

The War Within

The rich are on horses
The richer on chariots
We’re mere footmen
In the war that’s this life.

Chaos every second
Stampedes every moment
Traitors everywhere, and
Why are we still here?

The ray of hope is lost
The days of agony begin
Wish I breathe my last
Right here, right now.

Love weeps out of loneliness
Wealth keeps making us jealous
Minds keep trembling with fear
‘tis time we finish this miserable play.

There’s no second habitat
Nor will we ever know
Make this one better
Or let’s perish together.

Greed is now the norm, and
Contentment remains a word
The wealthy author our history
While we suffocate in peace.

Science gets stuck in labs
With barricades by governments
Influenced by the misers
Who loyally erode this Earth.

Gone is the soothing wave
Lost are the smiling faces.
Machines are made to act humane
For the fear of the loss of our nature.

The Earth is crumbling within
The ignorant Earthlings wander
The doom is spelled too early
And the heavens just lost faith.

We seem to have gotten too far;
Farther than we were supposed to.
Just like a newborn smiling
And suckling its mother to death.

2 Mar 2014

கனவுகள் கரையலாம்

கனவுகள் கரையலாம்
நினைவுகள் மறையலாம்
கடமைகள் தடுக்கலாம்
இரவு முடியாதோ!

ஒரு முறை இந்த உலகம் தான்
மரு கனம் எங்கும் கலகம் தான்
ஒரு துணை கொண்டு உலவ தான்
காதல் பிறக்காதோ!

கரைகளும் மலைகளும்
அலைகளும் இலைகளும்
மேகமும் தாகமும்
ஏக்கமும் தூக்கமும்

இளைய கோவின் இசையதில்
வாழ்வு மூழ்காதோ!

மடமைகள் ஒழியலாம்
ஒளியதும் பிறக்கலாம்
பாரிதும் செழிக்கலாம்
நெஞ்சம் ஏங்காதோ!

ஒரு உடல் இன்று மடியலாம்
கடலதில் சென்று முடியலாம்
மனததில் சோகம் மூளலாம்
அன்பும் விலகாதோ!

கனவுகள் கரையலாம்
நினைவுகள் மரையலாம்...

- Inspired by பழைய சோகங்கள் from ஈரவிழிக் காவியங்கள், wrote this for a tune that I made up but couldn't dare to record it. For world peace.

1 Jan 2014

ஒத்தையில போகயில

ஒத்தையில போகயில
உன் நெனப்பு அள்ளுதடி!
சுத்தியல போலடிச்சு
உஞ்சிரிப்பு கொல்லுதடி!

கடல் காத்து வாங்கப் போனா
அனல் காத்து வீசுதடி!
கடலய பாத்து பாத்து
கண்ணோஞ்சு போகுதடி!

அடி நடமாடும் அழகு நெத்திலியே!
உன்ன சிலையாக்க மெழுகு பத்தலியே!
அடி வாடாத வெளுத்த வெத்தலயே!
நீ இல்லாம ஒலகம் சுத்தலயே!

நாங் கடையில் டீ குடிக்க
அந்த வழி நீ நடக்க
தேனீரா இருந்த தண்ணி
தேனா இனிக்குதடி!

பஞ்சப்போல நீயும் பேச
மண்ணும் பொண்ணாகுதடி!
நெஞ்சு உன்னப் பாக்காம
புண்ணாகிப் போகுதடி!

அடி நீ தான் என் சீனி மிட்டாயே!
கொஞ்சம் பாக்காம தவிக்க விட்டாயே!
பாவிப் பய நெஞ்சில் ஆச நட்டாயே!
நட்டு கழலவிட்டு ஓட விட்டாயே!

ஒத்தையில போகயில...

PS: Inspired by Sean Roldan & friends. Though nowhere close to theirs, one's own absurdities.

23 Nov 2013

Stop. Listen. Crazy.

I sit on my cot, leaning on a wall, fiddling with my phone. I'm at awe with Android, which makes me think of an operating system, and in turn Linux; Windows; I stare at the window next to me, and I see that it's raining outside; water water everywhere not a drop to drink; poetry; how I'm so terrible at it; what else am I terrible at?; literature, music, dance; arts for that matter; who knows it all?; Kamal Hassan?; what phone does he use?; a Moto in vEttaiyAdu viLaiyAdu; Goutham Menon; viNNaiththANdi varuvAyA; love; singledom; #ForeverAlone; marriage; kids; house; car; social pressure; job; money; economy; politics; corruption; desire; misery; humanity; evolution; science; technology; engineering; electronics; communication; telephones; mobiles; Nokia 1100; Lumia; oh, how I wish Nokia had made an Android phone; Android; I'm still looking at my phone.

A circle of thoughts gets completed as another begins, and I try to shut it down, only to fail miserably. I've been able to stare at the wall for a good amount of time, but I'm no longer capable of doing it. I must've lost it somewhere, and I don't seem to be able to recollect whence. I google "how to slow my thoughts down" and read some content on this. But they don't give me a solution that would work right away. Terms such as "meditation", "relaxation" & "awareness" don't tell me what to do but only how I should feel. But I don't know how. I decide to try, anyway.

I set an alarm for 5 minutes from now. I turn my lights down. I sit on my cot, erect and cross-legged. I inhale and exhale deep. I remind myself of the prANAyAmam that I'm supposed to do as part of a 3-times-a-day ritual that I don't perform. I curse myself of not exercising my physique. I blame the job that I'm at. I cringe at over-thinking & discarding the good associated with practices of faith. I'm reminded of the talks I've listened to and repent for being influenced by them. I regret for not completely believing in anything. I question myself if I'd've been rid of all misery if I had become a conformist. I ask myself if I'm part of a higher plan or merely a mind introspecting for no use. I ask myself if I would ever be able to control myself. I doubt if there ever was someone who obtained &// practised self-control. I wonder if those sages of ancient times did so, or only pulled a trick to convince the ruling class in order to get things done. I blame the caste system & the exploitation of it for all the sufferings many did & do go through. I repent for being born in a world that hasn't lived up to my expectations. I feel disgusted at myself for not changing anything ever since I've started understanding things. I realize that I would not be able to, at least all by myself. I feel ashamed of not trying to. I look like a speck of dust stuck to the bottom of a sandal worn by a life-form that roams around a larger universe doing absolutely nothing but gathering more dust all its way. I stand worthless among those brilliant minds I meet. I sense that I don't matter. I learn that I'm of no use to this world. I comprehend that there's a System that runs this whole show. A system run by a handful few who use it for their advancement. A system that would only favor those who surrender to it. I fear that this System might discard me at its will. I remind myself that I'm yet to make my will. I foresee that my will wouldn't matter either. I ask, "If not my will, what will?" I answer, "Only what's supposed to."

The alarm goes off. I realize I've still been breathing for no use. I put it off with the thought that I've wasted another five minutes of my being here. I also feel hungry. I thus go in search of food. Many more minutes to be wasted, along with much resources.