Venkata Uvaacha...

(This post is for all of you who repeatedly wished that I break my one and a half years of silence and start scribbling again :) ) Every now and then, the searing heat waves scraped through below my Rayban lenses, reminding me constantly of the fact that I no longer belonged to Seattle. As the RX-135 made its ascent on Gemini flyover, I was pushing myself hard to accept the fact that the once magnificent Chennai skyline, dominated by huge vinyl hoardings, is no longer a reality. Just 2 years back, I was flashing my cousin’s canon S2 at every hoarding (from the pillion seat of this same bike), marveling at the cityscape, even as he was accelerating his beauty through this very flyover. I still remember The Hindu headline “ Hoardings disappear, Chennai reappears” - what still evades my cranium is the pathetically absurd justification given that those hoardings were a distraction to the city motorists.. the craziest move a government can do to mutilate a multi million industry! ...

After so much of pull and push, it looks like the BJP has finally got its bearings right. While news channels have started making so much of hue and cry on BJP's 'Jadu Ki Jhappi' (Magic Hug) by including the hero Modi into the parliamentary committee, the party is meticulously rejoicing the plausible fruits of the massive restructuring in the ranks. Blow after blow to congress, it looks like 'Destination Delhi' next for the BJP. Modi has never ceased to amaze me with his sheer political acumen and his election methodology. He has emerged, in less than 5 years, as one of the strongest and the most influential politicians of independent India. Without any ambivalence in his speech and actions, he campaigns for what his party stands for. The victory in Himachal, in my view, should also be attributed to a great extent to the wave that Modi created during the Gujarat polls. When the post-Atalji BJP was starting to look weak, brand 'Moditva' was the best th...

The drizzles relentlessly conglomerated with its target, even as I coiled into my comforter (what an apt name that!!), making sure that not a wee bit of my sleepiness is stolen away. It would easily have been 2 degree Celsius or less outside, and with the heater in our hall dumping me, the laws of thermal conductivity worked just a little slow before the heat from my body equalised with the sofa and comforter. Here, it never pours down; neither does it cease to sprinkle – a typical Renton morning. My frame of view resembled a ruled sheet of paper with the silhouettes of the white window blinds lining in front of the frosted glass window. The tiny islands of condensed water droplets on glass, to me, symbolises the pristine purity of this element, the nectar of existence. In this part of the world, the sun, I sometimes wonder, starts its travel only after weather.com confirms that it is going to be a ‘Sunny’ day!! I have, for some time now, started liking this kind of weat...

It was very similar to a conveyer belt except that it carried humans. Each stretch ran for few kilometers and these belts placed serially one after the other enabled passengers to reach their gate. I was in awe marvelling at the sheer enormity of the Suwarnabhumi airport. This airport in Bangkok was the first one I saw outside India and the very sight wowed me! I was able to feel the amount of planning that went in to have made this a reality. The airport was, well state of art, if I can state it in banal terms. I had to get to the counter that would give me the boarding pass to enable me complete my travel to Seattle. There were direction boards everywhere and still I felt lost. Maybe the amazement that had gotten into me overwhelmed me I guess. There was one more transit point in Narita, Tokyo and the journey was already taking a toll on me. I would’ve proclaimed that this was my first experience of cruising amidst clouds had it not been for that Kingfisher experience few months back...

“Did I entertain?” the Prince asked as the crowd roared in the affirmative. The tear waiting in his eyes travelled down my cheeks… quicker than the speed of that spherical piece of leather meeting its fate (read his willow), only to be picked up behind square boundary by a boy belonging to the academy, dreaming to become Lara some years down the lane. The farewell was not as extravagant as his dancing pull nor was it lavish like his picture perfect square cut. The last super 8 match nevertheless was a West Indian loss in more ways than one! As far as cricket is concerned, I have been, over the years, emotional about two things, Indian cricket and Lara’s cricket. Seldom can I forget those countless nights I spent in front of my TV set, constantly adjusting the volume, making sure that I don’t wake up ‘appa’ but at the same time listen to every little comment that the Blofelds and Benauds give on Lara. The master technician he is, Lara can invite packed crowds in any part of the cricket ...

My feet didn’t suffer much this time, thanks to the newly laid road… the rugged stretch on which I had walked 7 months back, I realised, had depicted almost an entirely different Thennangur villagescape. That was my first visit to this pretty hamlet. But then, the pathway that I treaded was not the only difference between my two visits. There was more… this time there was no Srikanth, no Lakshmi, no Vishalam mami, no Seetha Kalyanam… My memories rewound as I ambled towards my destination. Earlier, the 2 hour ride along the Chennai – Uthiramerur - Vandavasi highway didn’t offer anything exciting, more so with the chill gusts forcing me to shut down the window for most part of the journey, leaving me with my ipod and a small nap. The last half an hour of the journey, though was interesting, with me making acquaintances with my fellow traveller, a Vandavasi villager. A farmer by profession, he was returning from Madras after having visited his sons, both of whom have been lured by the cit...

A subliminal effect was mounting into that mass of nerve tissue inside my cranium. 5:20 bus – i-pod plugged into my ears… ‘On-the-go’, loaded with a set of very special kritis from a very special singer, was performing the DJ’ing for me even as my tympanum was relishing each auditory impression that came its way. Stalwarts of the carnatic tradition often imprint their signature on certain kritis and make them their own just like Maharajapuram Santhanam made ‘Thunga theera viraajam’ his... the first song in my playlist… I tried to pierce those foggy memories of my 6th grade days when that cartridge of magnetic ribbon inside our ‘Sanyo’ tape recorder played this voice for the first time. Those were the days when the ‘sophisticated’ stereo recorded cassettes were introduced. Appa , a connoisseur of this great classical tradition that is carnatic music, made sure that his almirah housed a rich collectible. Madurai Mani, MSS, Chembai and a host of other such exponents embellished the a...

D10 – I was seated alongside my pal Kartik (D9). Studio – 5 was filled to capacity with 78 other nocturnes. That irritating model (?) in the Nalli Silks ad was standing between us and Nagesh Kukunoor. After 10 minutes of agony, the censor board certificate flashed! The first few frames, toggling between the lush green valleys of Himachal to the vast desert expanse of Rajasthan, both aesthetically captured, sets the context for the narration and introduces the main characters – Amir, Zeenat, Shankar and Meera. Himachal - Amir marries Zeenat the day before he leaves for Saudi Arabia in search of greener pastures. Rajasthan – Shankar, married to Meera, too leaves for Saudi to earn good money. Few months later, Meera receives the news that Shankar is dead and Zeenat is informed that Amir is jailed for allegedly killing Shankar and awaits death penalty very soon. Zeenat has only one option to save her husband – get a signed letter from Meera that her husband is innocent. The rest of ...

“Archanai will be done in Tamil” I read as both of us were standing in the long queue, waiting to get a glimpse of Arjuna’s charioteer. The Parthasarathyswamy temple, Chennai’s oldest surviving temple, situated in Triplicane, once‘Thiru Alli Keni’ (‘The divine Lilly pond’ is the literal translation), has withstood the challenges that time has thrown on it for centuries, witnessing everything that has happened in Chennapatnam, Madras and Chennai. For many years a Brahmanical stranglehold, or rather a Sri Vaishnava stranglehold, Triplicane has retained its traditional charm and flavour even as modernisation has, for many years now, slowly invaded its territory. The narrow alleyways between rows of ancient Aiyangar houses and shops doesn’t seem to hinder, even a wee bit, the unceasing traffic of bikes to cars to cycles to tricycles to cows to what not. The temple is hailed as one among the 107 ‘Divyadesams’, that every follower of ‘Visishtadvaitam’ has to visit in his life so that he ...

“Kuch to log kahenge…” I was humming Kishore, thanks to the all-morning Hindi nostalgia, as I walked back home. I was looking at the moon. I love the sight of her shyness as she tries every now and then to hide behind the veils of nimbus. I looked at my watch.. 15 minutes for Sunday to take over… It had been a wonderful meal, thanks to Ajith. More than that it had been a superb Saturday. A very fulfilling one! ‘Sachin Ka Dhaba’ is one place in Chennai that can declare with authority that they serve ‘bona fide’ dhaba food. Might be that name they had kept has a lot to do with their class I guess:) . With every eat-out in town claiming “We serve Punjabi too” (“Naanum naan serve panren!!”) authenticity becomes the key differentiator. No wonder Shyam chose this place. After all, he is my cousin which means that I need not elaborate too much on the tastes he has. I had been to this place 3-4 times already. And the waiter, I guess, will automatically pen down “Ek Pudina Paratha aur...

Things were too pressurising for the past two months. I was literally sitting inside a cooker. I won't say that the work load was huge. But I had to do too many things. Filling innumerable spreadsheets, plan & track, code, test, deliver, boost team's morale, withstand every rotten egg and tomato that my boss & onsite co-ords throw... throw some back as and when you get a chance.. Well being a project lead is afterall not that simple.. 'With power comes responsibility' :) Now that the BIG release is over. Am out of that cooker... to see more pleasant things... scribble things like these, read Bourne Identity, be with my ipod, guitar and mandolin more often.. missed tasks during the past 60 days... Just now completed an Adv Java e-learning course and typing this aaraam se... God! Let life be like this for some more time........

As I entered the hall, ‘Hanuman Chalisa’ flowed into my ears. ‘Sanskar’ was telecasting the usual 6 PM prarthana … an animated visual depicting the greatness of ‘muscular Hanuman’ … real good stuff… that too amidst a dozen TV channels that telecasts nothing except Ms.Sherawat, smooches & Mr.Hashmi.. (oops! Sorry for those synonymous repetitions.) Those animations pulled me into a flashback...... ‘ Hanuman to the rescue (adapted from Kirttivasa Ramayana )’ was the title of that comic book. Publisher: Amar Chitra Katha . It was a gift from ‘Bala athai’ ( athai - Aunt). I was in III – ‘C’ then. I utter a ‘Thanks’ to her for this book till date… my first handshake with Hindu mythology. I read (read studied) that book cover to cover almost everyday… so many times that each description, each dialogue, got imprinted in my mind. I would be fast asleep and appa would ask: “What does Hanuman say when he meets the physician Sushena ?” And I would spring from my bed with the answer. This...

The conductor shouted “Thennangur” as the three of us alighted. She also got down with her suitcase. We exchanged looks as I started casually “How long is the temple from here?”, wanting to strike a conversation with her. “Not very distant. But normally a bus will ply till the temple. Seems like it will not today given the road’s condition”. We smiled at each other. Mission accomplished! “I’ve been coming here since 1989, the year when Guruji established the temple. By His grace I’ve attended every ‘utsavam’ …”. “What about your accommodation mami ?”. ( Mami is the Brahmin way of addressing an elderly woman.) “Since I belong to the mandali I won’t have any problems. You guys can also stay with me.” ‘ Lakshmi is safe’ – we smiled again. Detailed introductions filled the next five minutes of our walk. Pallavaram to Infosys to Haridos Giri … She then directed us to the Pandurangan temple and said “Have darshan . Come to the cottage. Vishalam mami’nu kelungo. Solluva ! ”. ‘Vishala...