Why Velayudham deserves an Oscar

I have read some great psycho-analysts describe Gandhi’s close obsession to salt all through his life. Starting from the salt Satyagraha, to him avoiding salt in his food, they had attributed it to his guilt from not serving his father at his death bed. Today I observed the same kind of obsession in a Tamil hero’s movie. What’s Vijay’s obsession to chase a train and overtake it? I wonder which psychologist would successfully analyze this bizarre craving of our hero. The reader needn’t jump to conclusions that am compare the stints of Vijay to anything near Gandhi. I have a great respect for the latter’s life reforming deeds and the formers proves to be a Donkey’s laugh to the mindful audience due to his antics. The hero was immortalized to everything from a super hero to a God himself in the film. A very spiritual lot this Tamil cinema makers that they want to god-make every loving hero of theirs. I am still wondering how our hero who was able to beat a train running in its full speed and stop it too, had failed to chase his running sister and save her from her own fate. Why kill the sister character played by an ever faithful ‘ saranya mohan’ at the last fifteen minutes of the film, I wonder. The screenplay is strewn with amazing logical sequences like for example, when a whole bus is blown up in a bomb and charred human remains are portrayed, a single plastic lunch bag carried by one of the victims survived this immense explosion and fire. Am sure that lunch bag must have been blessed by our Godly hero, or must have belonged to Rajnikath. Chennai seems to have become a small place comprising of ten streets and fifty people probably and everyone keeps meeting anyone at the right sequence of time and repeatedly. The movie increased my beliefs on chaos theory for a reason it was nothing but complete chaos in screenplay. How the hero tried to hide his identity in the entire film with just a hood which stayed in place on every fight sequence shows his super humanness. This beats M.G.R’s impersonations with a mole in his right cheek. Politics inspired dialogues are unbiasedly distributed all over the movies script. And the most pathetic of which was by a policeman at his death. He says to the terrorist who just shot him “You people cannot save your own leader, Bin Laden, but we are the Indians who are still protecting Kasab.” What was even more painful was the crowd cheering at the dialogue. My Indian instincts made me want to slap myself instead; I refrained, reminding myself I was at a Vijay movie. Much more painful as a woman was the pervertization of the Indian heroine. The two heroines don't seem to serve any other purpose but that. As usual the more intellectual of the two heroines was outcast and the hero garlands the dumb ,a little off-beat crazy village “murai ponnu” whose sole purpose in life was to marry him. I wonder when our Tamil heroes will ever grow up! Or become intellectual enough to choose a girl with brains. I guess for now all we brainy girls can decide to become nuns. Why would anyone construct a rail track that lead straight to an explosive tank in a highly protected factory’s (it had six people at the gate to guard it) private rail line so comfortable for the terrorist to drive a train straight into it? Should such logic lapses be beyond a director’s brain? The visual of the songs were so-so, and fights, thankfully each villain is killed in just one-shot by our super hero hence bearable. The movie was probably my biggest mistake this weekend but nevertheless promised everything that a Vijay movie usually does. I can’t believe a person who finds this palatable and entertaining. To me it was a full length comedy crapper.

God said,Let there be sleep!

There is a difference between music and noise. My favourite song, in my iPod is music, the same tune in my alarm clock: Hell, its noise! Whoever designed 6 am to be an appropriate time for the sun to rise and work day to begin, should have been burnt at the stake. Obviously he didn’t have the tiresome demands of face book, conference calling, and text messages and am also sure he didn’t have a friend to wish “happy birthday” to at 12 am in the night. I accept the sun has risen and day begins. But why should anyone logically work at daytime? Human beings are not chlorophyllic right? I cursed myself for yet again skipping my New Year resolution to go to bed early. What with my cosmetologist lecturing me seriously that I’d age early if I kept awake at night for long. She smiled gently with her perfect pearl white teeth (teeth whitening obviously) I was tempted to tell her, “maybe I’ll just get a face-lift surgery like you”. What is the fun of ageing later than all my cool friends who were up all night and having all the fun? It kind of takes away the point in being young. It amazing how the brightest of ideas take root at eleven p.m when your at your computer desk. I had created my most precious photo collages and other such masterpieces at that hour. I am sure edisson’s mother never told him to go to sleep by ten. That’s why he invented the light bulb. There is more in convenience in getting up early than we acknowledge. For example, if I wake up at the usual time that everyone else does and go to office, can you even imagine how much traffic I have to face. I read an article last week on how stress levels are increasing among the working population that has to travel a long distance facing traffic jams and we in turn are developing into a race which is doomed for depression. Well not that exactly, but am sure thats what the author meant. If I slept in an hour I might just skip the high traffic hour and I have to run to office. Doesn’t anyone see the merit of the early morning exercise? Breakfast, oh wait that’s what kellogs was invented for right. And I will take the balanced health drink, on my way and all will be fine. There apparently are two types of human personality, the morning lark and the night owl. You see we are called that for a reason. History has observed a lot of creative geniuses are night owl. Haven’t you heard how A.R.R works better at the night time and look at the tunes he’s churned. The irony is my alarm tone sings his symphony at 6 am. What a cynical world. The human mind needs to rest eight hours. This is a proven medical fact. Is it proven that the mind needs to rest from 9-5. Who ever came up with that wierd time table? Health articles profess how beneficial it is to wake up early. The longevity of the human life is increased and one can live disease free. But have you noticed that most of the people who are at the park at 6 am are either diabetic or have high blood pressure? Now that scares me. That why I sleep in. And my neighbour subramaniam uncle told me a story of how his grandfather was run down by a milk van when he went jogging in the morning fog. I wouldn’t dare give up my life to live longer maybe by a few years. Dear parents who cant blink an eye after 5 am , Stop confusing the younger generation on the time they have to awaken. We have evolved and clearly understood the merits of staying up late into the night. The call rates are cheaper and this in turn may contribute to the economic development of India. We are a more responsible race now. Aware that sleeping, and sleeping alone can keep our minds fresh and free of depression and what’s more important than being happy in life. Say No to alarm clocks, and yes to night blinds. Respect the early morning snores please. Live and let live. By that I mean mom stop telling what time it is five minutes once! Am not getting up anytime before eight.

The fascination of Facebook

Oh! what do u do with that laptop of yours? My mother's exasperated tone pulled me out of my Facebook wall. I handed her my notebook and showed her. she had me going through all our cousins wall for about half an hour. it was like reading out a bed time story to a three yr old. especially a fairy tale with a lot of pictures of princesses and glass slippers(my personal favorite). "you asked me what i was doing mom" i teased after some time. she smiled an elfish smile that my mom always gives whenever we are conspirating something against dad. we were now partners in crime. though she isn't tech savvy enough to create a profile of her own, she contends with stalking my profile and i take her on a Fb tour aon a regular dietary basis. What is her fascination with facebook? my mother whose interest in computers are limited to solitaire, and only because she wins that game easily, had never taken to anything as easily as this. why does this facebook entice me so much, i asked. though the same question from my parents had put me on a defensive note many times, the question coming from oneself can only lend to deep introspection.

From the day i was introduced to the pencil and paper, we had become best friends. to an extent my grandmother would say stories about how i would write all over the wall in an attempt to create my sonnet,which at the age of four was mostly wierd shaped circles. but writing has always been a passion, and being heard! well there's isn't a better reward to a writer than like minded souls tasting his/her compositions and leaving their comments. the mind of a thinker is in constant need for expression. its a pity that there aren't any pensive in the muggle world. and there Tada!!! they created facebook. there have been days when i had a lovely thought, prose or poem in my mind and ran to my mobile midst all my work to post it. when it received likes and comments it would flush me with a pride that only a fellow writer would understand! am i insecure and craving for attention. well if so, then which artist or blogger or writer or cinematographer isn't??? i write in a few sentences called "my status" and it's most difficult to express oneself with fewer words. the world has mocked at me saying i waste too much time on Fb! i am a micro blogger, would u mock an artist that he spends too much time in his studio? this is my passion, to write and be heard and make a change. i would consider it a waste of my time for this is my hobby and 'my friends' are the subjects i rule in my Fb kingdom. i can make them like dislike arouse an anger, make them think, and make a change with my words and it gives me immense sense of self satisfaction doing the same. no one can say i am neglecting my work or duties caus we Fbites know how to balance our work and play. Atleast my hobby puts use my grey matter and improves the my world sense all the while keeping my friends close and connecting with them across oceans. i feel like a queen! this is why Facebook is fabulous!

What drives him!!!!!!!

I write this article after deep research on male psychology, and i apologize to all the sweet men who didn’t realize i was using them as lab rats. Well, a woman's got to do what she has, to keep up in this heavy traffic, right? i know most women would agree with me. I live by the principle that to seize a man, you should understand him more, and love him less. This theory I propose as an easy way to dissect the male brain without being overtly judgmental. All in all, it is most important to choose the right kind of guy and I hope this works out fine as much for you as it does for me.

A man’s driving can tell definitely a lot about the man’s psyche. For one, men consider driving a vehicle much more than a means of transporting themselves from one place to another. Driving, like any other soulful hobby say painting or playing a piano, is a passion. Trust me personally any day I would prefer a guy who drives passionately than paints. So first scrutiny falls upon the condition of his vehicle. If the vehicle is spic and span let’s give him 70 not wait 90 points. This man takes good care of the things that matter to him. Though you shouldn’t expect him to love you the most, as his bike is gonna come before you anyway. If you are the kind of woman who is not overtly possessive and willing to share a man with his Yamaha or royal Enfield then I say you are one step closer to finding your soul mate, if at all such a thing exists. Prefer a man who cares of his vehicle and one day he is gonna care for you probably the same.

We have travelled at least with one guy who is all calm and gentlemanly while dining and as soon as he mount’s his car or bike you see a appalling side to him. Yes, am talking about the 'chronic swearer'. If you want to learn bad words in tamil, ride pavilion with this man. Points you girls should note. This man is short tempered and easily provocative. Unless and until you’re a strong hearted woman with her head on her shoulders I’d advise you hop off at the next signal and catch an auto home. Men are vulnerable while driving, what with the traffic and mundane rules they’d have to follow. But I feel so is life and any guy who is disturbed enough to swear out loud in traffic would definitely fail to stay calm at the testing stages life is gonna throw at him. He is passionate no doubt but also a bit immature.

Then there is the man who thinks he can reach his destination faster if he keeps cutting lanes and swirling between the cars that race! In tamil there is an expression “ Cycle gap le airplane otturan” which translates, trying to run an airplane into a space which would only accommodate a cycle. This is the man who is focused on his objective. And he would do just about anything to get there. Though that could be a feather on his cap in his profession how would you feel about living with a man who always prefers to choose the life’s easiest path. No matter all the consequences he has to face while going through the short cut. He is happy he has reached his destination in life and that alone satisfies him. He lives life in quickie mode. For a woman who is laid back and wants to savor life's moments,he’d probably get bored of you or you will die of a nervous fit, no bet which happens first though. Are you a woman of principles? Please start running now.

The slow and cautious driver. His speedo-meter would never cross 40 km/hr and mind you that is the actual speed limit within the city. How many of us have driven at that? No, he is not like us. He would stick to the grave rules of the traffic police, has never received a traffic ticket and stops behind the stop line. Sounds like a gentle man right, well mostly he is. But you shouldn miss the obsessive streak in this behavior pattern. He could either be affected by OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) or be the most feared perfectionist. If you are like me a clumsy girl next door, get ready to be fostered by your partner. Lectures on how to do stuff and when and at precisely what rate can be very easily expected. Nevertheless he’s a stable man and very dependable.

I conclude from my study of most common patterns in driving, that a man who can manage city traffic can manage his woman well. And to study a man you do so when he is at his most vulnerable state: driving. Till date I follow this heartless way of analysis the male species and you know what? Am having a pretty good time. Shouldn’t you? Any day I would trust a man who could drive well. Speaking with science driving requires a high sense of motor co-ordination and intellectual reasoning and decision making skills. An alert mind is a recipe to a healthy human being. What better way to select my partner?

The Wedding Nightmare

At twenty three my woes seem to be dominated by one major crisis, mostly because it seems to be my mother's only cause for hysteria. When your mum's doctor calls you aside and advices you “Get married dear. Your mother will be cured.”, what does one make out of that situation. Maybe because Geetha aunty is not just my family doctor but also the one who was in the operation theater when i was born, it makes the situation bearable. But one must admit, it’s still weird isn’t it?? They all make me feel old. I mean really as if i was forty and graying!!! And many women even in their forty are not graying nowadays. This should be a crime. Someone should pass a law that Indian women needn’t really get married. And it should be made fashion to stay single till your forty or something. See am not being prude ,as my mother would call this, in fact this could be india’s solution to curb our population right? Why doesn’t anyone care about twenty three year olds in india and start a fast or something. Though am not brave enough to fast until death, i promise i shall give-up breakfast or something. The mothers are a very methodical species. First six months they throw hints at you in every possible obviously subtle manner. Like “oh look at this saree. You will look so pretty in it for your reception”. Just that am not wearing an orange saree even if tom cruise said he’d marry me if i wore that. And that’s very strong coming from me. I've always dreamed of getting married to him and Katie Holmes came in the way. Which is better though, am very happy for them. Now, one mustn't think am this anti-marriage person with all feminist principles. Cinderella was my favorite fairy tale. Partly because i wanted to wear glass slip-ons and i spent my ages four to eight wearing nothing but slip-ons. But the point is, i was an avid mills n boon fan at sixteen. Little women was my favorite classic and i still dream of an Aditya Kashyap (for those who are wondering who he is, you should so watch the bollywood movie “jab we met”) rescuing me from a deserted railway station. Maybe they all have corrupted my mind as my aunt would say. Oh yes, she is my mother’s avid supporter. She’s the agony aunt. The world of romance and fairy tale has romanticized my view on Indian marriages. The concept of arranged marriages shock me. How can i decide on the guy i live with for the rest of my life in just about half an hour that i would get to interview him before i have to consent. And you should read these matrimony advertisements. They are hilarious, mind-blowing and apathetic. They call me cruel when i refuse to give in to the system. Someone should sue these people. Tall good looking “***” (which is the caste creed and nakshatra of the boy) seeks homely, well-educated fair bride. Excuse me, isn’t that apartheid or something? And what exactly is the definition of homely i still haven’t worked out. Women who have their own mind and can speak it out loud are considered arrogant. And the ideal bride is expected to be a super chef. I wonder if it was such a qualification why not make all women study catering and hotel management? I wish to advertise asking for a guy who knows to cook and help around house chores and see which family would respond positively. Isn’t the whole system too partial? Men just have to study and get a good job. That makes them qualified for marriage while the mother-in-law shopping for a girl for her son checks out the girls beauty, manners, and “homeliness” qualification, cooking expertise and a ton other things. Some families even ask the bride to sing. What are you testing her for a talent show? If one of her planets are in a jinxed position in her charts, that’s it. It’s the end of the brides future. Some families go through weird offerings to deities like getting the bride married to a plant first and slaying it. The other less fortunate families have to hunt for a groom with an equal dhosha to compensate or someone who is thirty odd, balding and fat, whose only hope of matrimony is if the mother finds him an unfortunate bride like this. Why does the most important decision in a girl’s life be what age she is choosing her husband? Even after we have educated our women and let them face the daily nuances of work, travel and a social life, Indian families are still insecure that the girl always needs a male shadow in her life. And the amount of money that is spent on the marriage is astonishing. One of the main reasons for a early marriage is that it is done before the father retires from a stable and bounty income. When he can still afford to throw cash and get his daughter married. It becomes a matter of prestige for the family. Why is the girl stake? Why cant i also be twenty eight, which is very normal for a boy, and single? Why cant i “settle down in my career” which again is a main criteria for men postponing their marriage, own a house and car before i choose my man? I am still discovering myself. How can i take a sane and stable decision if i like the guy you chose for me? Give me some breathing space. Maybe then we all can enjoy my marriage equally and i will not feel like am making a hasty mistake.

Fairytales where Reality hails: Love letter!!!!!

Fairytales where Reality hails: Love letter!!!!!

Love letter!!!!!

Writting a letter to you is very amusing. I do not know your face, your name or your e-mail id.(i feel these have become a man's commodity to establish an identity). i don't even know if you speak English. for all i know you could have been born in France but am assuming for my own sake that English was your third language in school and that u understand my letter. I think its high time i begin. The hesitation is evident from the lines i've written above, best said- am beating about the bush. i want to make one thing clear.I love you. There I've said it. You being so far away from me disturbs my sleep. i do dream about you often but somehow all that has stopped being enough.So I've decided to clearly state what i expect you to do and am hoping that since you respect my love you would fulfill all this. I believe that i was born for you and you for me. So I've kept the promise that i made when we were stars in the sky and you were the northern star and me the southern. We were poles apart yet a powerful chemistry that kept us away from each other. Scientists call it magnetism now. Innocent humans. They don't know that it was the energy of what you and i felt for each other that was so powerful that if we touched everything would explode. There would be a light so powerful so pure that it would swallow all else in the bliss of love. Later, when i could wait no more to be near you, you gave up your crown and came down to the earth as a mortal. It was very clever of you. You Knew very well that i would follow. I knew you were testing me, my patience. And patience is a virtue i lack. We are everything opposite. Your as strong and stubborn as a rock. Me, i am a flower's scent that flows with air and ebbs and masks all other senses. You destroy, i Create. And in our balance we complete each other. Now i believe the wait is over. Am luring you, my man with my words. My prose and the beauty in it. Urging you to see the real truth. To come and claim me as you rightfully should. To finish what we came to this earth for. Am singing out to you. I know you see my dreams. For i see yours, and know what you earn for. My king, My partner, My ally, My better- half. without me your lost in this world. Allow me to complete you and in celebrating "us" we shall fulfill a thousand year's wishes. I refuse to be separated any longer. That's a loving command My Lord.

Am Learning To Cry

Tears are a man's birthright. the first expression of sign of life when the baby is trying to breathe and the oxygen is burning a hole in his lungs. Its a sweet pain. The baby's thirsty for one more breath and each time it causes him more pain. What finds expression is the first human emotion a shrieking cry. It may be music to the mother's ears and relief to the nurse but the ecstacy of freedom from the first human emotion is etched eternally in the newborn's life. Yet as we grow up the very same simplest solution to a mental stress- just crying out loud, is masked by a social evil named ego! Ego might be the realisation of self but what price are we paying? in realising and understanding who we really are, recognising our positives and negatives, attaining our identity, we get lost within ourselves. When this life poses too many indomitable questions and you just feel like bursting into tears, you look around, you colleage is watching you. So is that receptionist and that small boy who brings in your bag from the car and gets you cofee at eleven in the morning. Can you cry in front of these people even though thats the only way your gonna feel better. You supress and one day before you know it the doctor is readind from a chart that you have a stress induced hypertension and a minor block but its nothing to worry about, medicine has advanced a lot! Where have we come trying to save our faces? distancing ourselves from the so called loved one? Boarding a metro just like every other thousands of men, working like slaves, skipping food and rest at times, smiling at your boss even if you feel like breaking his neck. earning fat paychecks! i have no time to stand and stare! i have no time to laugh and even to cry! Am i really happy in my life? thats a question we all have to answer! bit do we have the time ???!!!!!!