That awesome moment...

That awesome moment when all white squares of a crossword are filled.

If you're thinking why I am making a big deal of solving a crossword, forget it and go back to enjoying your life. 

For the record, this is the first Cricinfo crossword puzzle that I've solved completely. Of course, thanks to regular Cricinfo browsing and Google search (how else am I supposed to know Trier is indeed a German city). 

55 Word Stories

So this is my post after what seems like forever. It isn't that I don't want to, but procrastination has always been my biggest enemy. Anyways I did manage to write five (really) short stories for this wonderful blog managed by @vivekisms. It was a Flipkart contest that introduced the blog to me and I was amazed to see the response the blog evoked. There were people submitting stories every day waiting for the theme of the day to be tweeted. Without further delay, let me post below the five stories I sent in.

Space

In the prime of youth, sitting in solitary confines, she had whispered to me - "Come closer" - and the space between us had vanished in a moment. Now, trudging along the path of adulthood, heavyhearted and weary, I seek refuge in her, and she says - "I need my personal space".

Relationships

As I stood before him disappointed at the turn of events, he was his usual silent self. Despite my attempts at making this relationship work, I was uncertain about its future and wondered if I ever held any significance to him. I went home, logged on to Facebook and changed my religion to atheism.

Decadence

Seated on a dingy hotel sofa, phone in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, he watched their lissome naked bodies entwine temptingly. “Love you. Talk to you later”, he said as he disconnected the call, emptied the wine glass over the two exquisite beauties on offer and threw himself between them.

Words

As the cameras flashed to capture glimpses of the fastest man on earth, he could hear his mother’s words when he had collapsed in her arms, crying over taunts that he was too weak to walk. Far away, sitting before a television set, an old woman mumbled – I told you, you were born to run.

Magic

He took his father’s frail hands and walked him to the lone bench in the hospital compound.

The old man’s eyes gleamed as he looked up at the clear night sky.

 “What are they?”

“Stars.”

“How do they shine?”

“Long ago, you told me it’s magic”, he replied.

“Magic indeed”, his father nodded approvingly.

Based on the response I received on Twitter, I can proudly say 'magic' and 'decadence' stories were much appreciated.

Shubh Aarambh

Another year and a new beginning. It is resolution time and mine, like most other bloggers, is to write more often. This is not something new, for I have failed to stick to this year after year since I started blogging. And the reason I believe I write so less is that I think too much before I write anything. Sometimes I write and then re-read it enough number of times to finally reject the idea of publishing. I fear people might be judgmental of what I write. I know this is false fear considering how many people actually read what I scribble, but can you blame me for being optimistic? Speaking of being optimistic, I have a couple of things on my 2011 wishlist and I hope at least a few of them gets fulfilled. 

Happy new year to everyone!

T D Dasan Std VI B

I finally got to watch T D Dasan Std VI B and needless to say I was amazed at this refreshing movie from a first-time director Mohan Raghavan. The story is simple - Dasan, a schoolboy from a village in Palakkad, Kerala chances up on the address of his father who had walked out on his mother and writes a letter to him.  The letter lands up in the hands of a girl Ammu who lives with her father in Bangalore, and presumably she writes back disguising herself as Dasan's father. The rest of the movie is about the incidents that follow. There are also references to the anti-Cola struggle of Dasan's village for their right to drinking water and the good thing is that these scenes never look contrived. Myth, longing for affection, social cause - everything seem to flow seamlessly in this film. Add to that brilliant performances from the entire cast including the two children  - thankfully there are no mushy dialogues for them to mouth artificially. I must say Swetha Menon is completely appealing even in a totally deglamorized role as Dasan's mother struggling to make the ends meet. The background score and music by Sreevalsan J. Menon is simply beautiful and he gets it right again after My Mother's Laptop (do listen to the songs in case you've missed it, especially Jalashayyayil by Kalyani Menon). It's a pity that such a gem of a movie went unnoticed by the audience for it's lack of superstars and loud publicity gimmicks. Give it a watch, and you won't be disappointed. Two words - must watch.

Elsamma Enna Aankutty

If there were a mediocrity principle in cinema, it would without any doubt apply to Lal Jose's films (except for Puramkazhchakal). There is nothing special about his movies. Yet I must admit he comes up winning because of appealingly packaging the subject. This time, he's picked up the tried and tested formula of a young girl suffering hardships for the sake of her family of siblings and a single mother. Have we not seen it already - think Manju Warrier in Ee puzhayum Kadannu, Kanmadam, and Meera Jasmine in Kasthuriman, Vinodayathra, Swapnakoodu? But, Lal Jose has handled the subject minus over the top emotions that we would associate with such a film. And he has a new face for the overburdened sacrificing elder sister in Ann Augustine. Ann essays the role of Elsamma - the local newspaper girl of BP City who doesn't mind taking on the local liquor baron (Vijayaraghavan) or the corrupt Panchayat member (Jagathy Sreekumar) - quite convincingly. Elsamma has a friend in milk vendor Unni (Kunchako Boban) who is in love with her. There are some genuinely funny moments in the first half where the director spends time establishing the lead characters. Things change for Elsamma with the arrival of city bred Aby (Indrajith) and friends. Aby is the grandson of Paappan (Nedumudi Venu) the neighbor and father-like figure for Elsamma.  The narrative lags a little in the second half but for some comic relief by Jagathy. However, Lal Jose has ensured that the audience wouldn't go teary-eyed after watching this one.
Ann is unrefined in her mannerisms as Elsamma and that works well here. Kunchako Boban comes up with a good performance and let's hope he continues to grow beyond the chocolate-boy lover image that he's been stuck with forever. But the pick of the lot would be Jagathy Sreekumar who excels in every shot he's on screen. The rest of the cast too go about their job effortlessly.
The two songs are definitely hummable. But the art direction for the second one left a lot to wish for. And the portrayal of city born young people as rebellious and spoilt is a tad clichéd and overdone. However flawed it may be, this Lal Jose film is definitely worth watching once.

Weekend Reading

These are random articles I found across the web and each one makes for a good reading.

• In Guardian, Jason Burke writes about the survival of dynasties in south Asia being another thing handed down from the British. He does mention our own Gandhi family and it's latest poster boy.
• Who'll play at No.7 for India? The World Cup barely seven months away, Harsha Bhogle examines the dilemma before Indian team on picking the right No.7 without being harsh on Ravindra Jadeja. Well, there is no dilemma - pick anyone but Jadeja.
• The Hindu, in it's editorial Mamata's Dangerous Game, questions the irresponsible politics of Mamata Banerjee. Aha, a cabinet Minister rooting for what the Government says is the gravest internal threat.
• And finally, for the mathematically inclined, here's Vinay Deolalikar's long proof of P != NP. Take your time. :)

Inception and Beyond

Thank you Mr Christopher Nolan for the wonderful movie that Inception is. Rarely does a movie get released that defies conventional thinking yet appeal to masses. Nolan doesn't underestimate the intelligence of the audience unlike his Bollywood counterparts; rather he places his movie a notch above our thoughts, challenging us to think. And that is the true victory of Inception - it keeps us on the edge of our seats and makes us audience think during the entire one hundred and forty eight minutes, and after as well. Leonardo Dicaprio is becoming that Tom Hanks kind of actor whose name itself is reason enough to go and watch a movie. He has not disappointed a bit in the last four movies of his that I have watched - The Departed, Blood Diamond, Revolutionary Road, and Shutter Island. 

There is this weird thing with me and landmark brilliant movies - I don't get to watch them when the whole world can't stop raving about. I watched Jurassic Park years later after it was released, that too on television. I haven't watched The Matrix yet. I got to see Avatar much later after the initial hype died down, and almost everyone I knew had watched it. Fortunately, Inception has defied this trend and I couldn't be gladder. Inception has also prompted me to look for other movies that explored mind, mystery, and dreams. I hit upon this wonderful list of cerebral sci-fi movies that look worth watching over and over again . Another find, though not on that list is Mullholland Drive. Hope I would get to watch at least few among these one day.

Do Aam Kahaniyaan

The summer rain fell pitter-patter across the front yard and the fields and over the canal. The trees swayed caught in the gusty winds, making a whooshing sound. Small streams of brown muddy water drained down to join the big stream flowing outside. Now and then, we heard the rumbling of thunder. And sometime later the rain stopped as abruptly as it had started. We barged out of the front door, running to the thodi to pick mangoes that had fallen off the old moovandan maavu in the rain. It sometimes reminded me of gold rush. After collecting the mangoes, we looked up at the tree - it was indeed sweet victory for us over the high and mighty branches of the mango tree. The celebrations then culminated with an indulgent mango-eating ritual that truly reinforced theories of evolution, for all of us resembled our tailed ancestors in the wild way in which we ate mangoes, licking the juice dribbling down our palms sometimes beyond the wrists. 

* * *

The yellow fruit almost looked plastic neatly arranged on the fruit stand in the store. A clear handwriting in black ink below it said - Rs 40 per kg. It took me a lot of time to decide on two from the lot. I quickly paid for those, and rushed to my room. I washed one, peeled its skin, and diced it into small pieces, on to a plate, and gulped them down like I had been deprived of mangoes for long. 

Gosh, when did I forget how to eat mangoes? Like they say in that ad - why grow up?

PS: For the Malayalam challenged, thodi is typically the yard adjoining the house, abounding with trees and plants of all kind. Moovandan is a mango variety, and maavu means mango tree.

Shadows

The shadows of the day don't disappear as the darkness descends. They haunt my nights. A thousand of them. 

Near the Nila

The Nila doesn't advocate Carpe Diem; seizing the day being too dynamic a proposition for a slow-moving river. Instead it urges you to freeze the moment...

This is just a line from a beautifully written travelogue by writer Anita Nair that I stumbled upon, in which she describes her journey along  the bank of the river Nila. I haven't read many travelogues to judge one, but I found this one interesting enough to capture my attention long enough despite the familiarity of what she was describing. I have seen Nila at various points along its length - Palakkad, Thiruvilwamala, Ottapalam, Shoranur, Pattambi. May be it was this familiarity that made it so easy for me to identify with the article. Thanks to her, I came to know of the existence of an organization set up to save the neglected river - the Nila Foundation. The foundation is funded partially by The Blue Yonder, and intends to revive the dying rivers in Kerala, in particular Nila. To quote the author,

"And amidst the shrubs a lone firefly drew neon green smileys in the dark.." 

PS: You can read the complete travelogue here.

Backwaters of Kerala

This is just a picture I took during a train journey from Trivandrum to Bangalore last month. Pardon the  picture quality - I took it using my mobile phone camera.

Ormayil Onam....

I couldn't help but write a post on Onam though I had decided a simple picture of a pookkalam would be enough. May be  because this is the sixth consecutive Onam that I'm spending away from home and the nostalgia that creeps in every time I see or hear something remotely related to Onam or for that matter Kerala is too overpowering for me to resist. Practically my Onam always started from my school where we would have various competitions among the student houses. The next four days of vacation (my school didn't have ten days of vacation for Onam) were always spent at our ancestral home located in a sleepy beautiful village where the whole family would gather. Any flower we could get our hands on  - from the precious little yellow mukkutti to the brightly colored chembarathi( shoe flower) - delicately made its way to the pookkalam over a small circular spread of cow dung which served as the base.( No, we didn't care whether it would make our hands dirty. Neither about the design which mostly was a conspicuously placed flower in the center surrounded by concentric circles.) Then there was the  interesting process of making Thrikkakarappans, and we children were allowed to be just spectators as far as this was concerned. They are pyramidal structures made out of  mud (and that being the reason we children were never allowed to actively participate as much as we would have liked to), and would be kept decorated with rice-flour, chembarathi flowers, and an olakkuda (an umbrella made of Palmyra leaves) in the front yard. And to finish off, a sumptuous sadya on plantain leaf - as colorful as it is tasty with a serving of payasam. Gone are those days but not the memories. My last five Onams were spent at Pilani, and that made it more special sans the Valluvandan style celebration I was so used to. I guess, at home or not, Onam will always be special - we just have to find ways to make it so. Signing off wishing everyone a wonderful and happy Onam....

Another Onam....

Ambitious?

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;

Am an attendant lord, one that will do

To swell a progress, start a scene or two

Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,

Deferential, glad to be of use,

Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

At times, indeed, almost ridiculous -

Almost, at times, the Fool.

- From The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot

To be Indian or not to be...

Take any recent newspaper - you will find at least one report of attacks on women for 'wearing Western attire' or 'walking around at night alone', and many more . Such acts cannot be justified whatever reason the attackers have. Hiding under the cover of 'preserving Indianness' , these people are promoting intolerance. If wearing jeans is un-Indian, how many of these self- appointed custodians of Indian culture wear traditional Indian dhoti? Or is it something that is applicable only to women? How can wearing a dress of one's own choice make anyone less Indian? Aren't there more pressing issues than making a furore about youth celebrating Valentines' day or wearing jeans? Indianness is not defined by a person's dress or his dining habits. Rather being Indian is all about having love and respect for one's own country and its people irrespective of caste, creed or gender. It is about fulfilling the vision of the countless martyrs who laid down their life for the freedom of this country - to build a truly independent and developed India. This is a country whose constitution advocates equality and upholds freedom of individuals. Such outrageous acts by anyone should be considered an attack against basic human rights and individual freedom. The government needs to take strict and effective action against such attacks and ensure the safety of women. As one of my friends rightly put it, if beating up innocent women is Indianness, then I don't want to be an Indian.

Water

I opened my eyes. I could see the dark starless sky above and feel the ice-cold water around me. I struggled against the water that was pulling me deeper down. I cried. I wailed. But the chilling darkness swallowed it all. I felt weak and helpless. 

A thousand images flashed before my eyes. Birds. Trees.Flowers. Rain. Life. 

I surfaced once again and gasped for air one last time. My body was failing me. I was going down. To a watery grave...

And then it was all peaceful. I  felt weightless as if a burden had been taken off my shoulders. True that things do weigh lighter in water. My pale cold body undulated with the waves on the surface. The same water against which I was struggling a few minutes back seemed to be quiet and still. And I wasn't being pulled down either. I was on my own floating around in the calm waters. I felt free. Liberated. 

Back to business....!!!

Well.. Oasis-2k7 is memory now. And I should admit, it wasn't as fun as my first one. Probably because of the pending assignments and presentations suspended over my head like the sword of Damocles. For the past two days, I have been doing nothing other than staring at my laptop screen, trying to figure out what to do about my Data Structures and Algorithms assignment, and how. The compiler, the "wonderful" thing it is, has been throwing errors, prompting this poor soul to cry out for God every time before giving compile and run commands. It seems God is rather bad at programming (....... :P). I am writing this post, exhausted after writing an eighteen page report to be submitted tomorrow, thanks to Data Mining course. My next post may be after I don't know how long. I am gonna have a helluva time with all those assignment submissions and tests. Wish every week we had Oasis.... :(

Oasis!!!

Thanks to OASIS, the annual cultural festival of BITS-Pilani, I have the so called luxury- time. Every year OASIS arrives bringing along with it, unlimited enthusiasm, and winter. Time for those blankets and sweaters to be taken out. Time to inject our minds with a whiff of fresh air. Time to pamper ourselves. Though well aware of the deluge of tuts, tests, and assignments that awaits me right after OASIS, I am enjoying the time I have got all for myself. Basic human tendency to ignore unpleasant things as long as we can. Isn't it?? Looking forward to a great OASIS.....

Pookkalam

This is a pic of the pookkalam that we made in front of our auditorium where we screened a Malayalam movie(Kaazhcha) for the second time in the history of Kairali@BITS-Pilani. Incidentally the first one (the classic Manichithrathazhu) was exactly ten years ago...........

Onam@Pilani

A visit to the temple at 7 in the morning, a tut at 8, a lunch consisting of butter rotis and cheese masala at 1 in the afternoon, and finally "Kaazhcha" followed by a payasam at 8 in the night.... This is what Thiruvonam had in store for me this year..... Should consider myself lucky for I am "kilometers and kilometers" away from home, in a nondescript place in Rajastan ...... I know now what nostalgia means...!