<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9486878</id><updated>2012-02-16T04:28:13.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scout scribbles.....</title><subtitle type='html'>"Shoot all the blue jays u want, if u can hit 'em.
 But remember it's a sin to kill a mocking bird"</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Scout</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07637215623953380976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.icomsolutions.co.uk/images/inkpot.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9486878.post-6379066943498446068</id><published>2008-07-28T18:22:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T18:39:29.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE DARK KNIGHT: Lost in Transcription</title><content type='html'>There is a reason I am able to follow the plotline of most Hollywood movies. I am serious.I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, say you ask me : "&lt;em&gt;What is the Matrix?&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;I can reply without batting an eyelid "&lt;em&gt;The answer is out there Neo and it is looking for you .It will find you if you want it to&lt;/em&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that feat is possible, my dear netizens, is because I always,always, switch on the subtitles on them DVDs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you asked me a similar question about 'The Dark Knight', I am afraid you will get no such illumination from me. Yes I saw the movie in theatre and I am waiting for the DVD to understand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I pay my dues. I dont expect to follow 'ER' or 'Law and Order' on TV. Too many people talking at the same time and a lot of technical jargon thrown around.It's only fair that big screen and DTS make things easier for me no? But enter Christopher Nolan - "I am sorry.But the movie will have a plot slightly more complicated than King Kong and will be played without subtitles".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My fate is sealed.But I tried.Scout's honour I did.I present the summary of my attempts evidence:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SPOILER ALERT.DONT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE MOVIE.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One hour into the movie, I am still trying to understand what the drug deals are all about.How exactly was Gordon doing it? Clueless.Enter Joker.Ok.Never mind the mafia.They are having trouble selling or maybe buying drugs.But have lot of money.Chinese guy is articulate.Joker ain't bad.Chinese guy is going to store the money and Joker wants Batman.So far so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harvey Dent.Aaron Eckhart.Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;Rachel Dawes.Maggie Whatever.Yawn.&lt;br /&gt;Joker.Heath Ledger.Dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael Caine is telling a story.This is the crux of what Dark Knight is about.Listen carefully.In Burma there were bandits and diamonds like tangerines.Err..and something about how some men are not logical.I guess he is saying Joker does not care for motives.And there he is burning all that money.Phew! That was close.Damn his accent!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girlfriends of Super Heroes are such bores. What more do these women want? Super Hero ain't good enough for them?Spidey is emotionally unavailable,SuperMan does not go to his son's football games.Next thing I know they are attending couples therapy instead of fighting crime.Somebody just kill her already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath is so menacing.Poor guy!!He could have atleast died after the movie was released.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG! Joker has Harvey and Rachel. This situation would be perfect for a song. Batman flying and singing "&lt;em&gt;Jaane jaan..doondtha phir raha ..hoon tumein ..raath din..tu kahan&lt;/em&gt;?" and then Rachel going "&lt;em&gt;Main Yahaaan..&lt;/em&gt;" .Instead Harvey and Rachel are doing the Hollywood "&lt;em&gt;I am sorry-I love you-Everything will be alright-I promise you&lt;/em&gt;" routine. Somebody kill her..just kill her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey....Batman turns up to save Harvey? Didn't he say he was going to save Rachel? I thought he did.Or did he ask Gordon to get Rachel? Or did Joker deliberately mislead Batman? What the..oops..Rachel is dead.Did they really kill her off ? They should actually kill Kirsten Dunst in Spidey 4.That would be great.Maybe all Superhero girlfriends should be killed.They should have a new heroine everytime like the Bond movies.This story arch with girlfriends is the weakest link in these movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath in the cops' dress looks like Johnny Depp.If Johnny Depp had died long back,who would have played Jack Sparrow? Who else should have died young?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gordon is dead.Mayor is dead.&lt;br /&gt;Gordon is not dead. Mayor is not dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who came up with the idea for Batman's voice? Arrghh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh! What happened to Aaron? Oh! No! No! No! Harvey Two-Face literally.Come on Harvey! Shoot the joker..shoot him.Well, ok.I see your point.Batman has to shoot Joker.Aaron looks so much more cooler than Christian Bale.He should be Batman.Wait! What did Joker tell Aaron? Aww..is he also going to turn bad? What did he say? Somebody..subtitles please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nurse touch is good.Very funny.Damn! He is dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael Cain, "We burned the forest".Finally, I get your accent.You british nincompoop!!! Is Capt.Haddock British?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did joker manage to place bombs in so many places and co-ordinate? Doesn't he operate alone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Batmobile.That is the best thing EVER.Do women have testosterone? Kill the Joker and lets go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright! There is Harvey Two-Face.He would make a good Mummy me thinks.He wants to kill Gordon's boy because he didn't save Rachel? What a load of crap! Is this his motivation to kill a little boy? The white knight becomes the dark knight.So the dark knight is really Harvey?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Batman accidentally kills a few cops.That is a big deal? Hell, if we had Batman in my country, I woudn't mind if he wiped off the entire force.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE END.Finally!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have to wait for the DVD, I read the reviews.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me clarify a few things for you.I dont want you to be confused like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Joker is actually chaos.&lt;br /&gt;2) Harvey represents how even good people fall from grace.Hello..Lucifer?&lt;br /&gt;3) Batman struggles with his dark side and HE IS THE DARK KNIGHT.Not Harvey.&lt;br /&gt;4) Batman has always shrank back from killing villains.He only wants to reform them.Read some comics..will you?&lt;br /&gt;5) The movie references the post 9/11 American conscience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who? What?Really? When did they do it? Wait for the subtitles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9486878-6379066943498446068?l=ink-on-paper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/feeds/6379066943498446068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9486878&amp;postID=6379066943498446068&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/6379066943498446068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/6379066943498446068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/2008/07/dark-knight-lost-in-transcription.html' title='THE DARK KNIGHT: Lost in Transcription'/><author><name>Scout</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07637215623953380976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.icomsolutions.co.uk/images/inkpot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9486878.post-114782997238743893</id><published>2006-05-16T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T01:55:24.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Iruvar - The Duo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/38/Iruvar-thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/38/Iruvar-thumb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;The opening credits of the film states ‘THIS IS NOT A TRUE STORY”.&lt;br /&gt;“Right..!”, I chuckled to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IRUVAR – The Duo, traces the lives of MGR and Karunanidhi with the Dravidian political movement as background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost a decade after the movie was released, I decided to watch it.I cant figure out why I had missed a Maniratnam movie for so long.I simply cannot..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I remember is K,my best friend,crying out “You have not seen Iruvar??!! Come on…”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was introduced to Dravidian politics at K’s house. K and I were in 12th standard then, in 1997-98.&lt;br /&gt;K’s parents had lands and her father practiced agriculture.They were Dravidians, I guess in that sense. K’s parents believed in idealogies,took active interest in politics,Tamil,analysed and compared the functioning of leaders and could trace all prominent Tamilnadu politician’s growth in the party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pagutharivu” /Rational thinking ,Self-respect -Dravidian movement’s founding idealogies,Party’s principles,MGR’s legacy etc were frequent dinner time topics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If the guy who cleans the sewer was not allowed inside the house, then you should think about the reason behind this! It is because he eats beef and as a result stinks. He does manual work all day.He needs to eat something that would give him strength.That is why he eats meat.And that is the reason he was not allowee inside.You should not blindly brand him an outcast.You should think for yourself!!!!”, K’s mother would cry out passionately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kalignyar is an able administrator.Its not a joke to manage a party of this level.There are the senior party members,well-wishers,party cadres…Everybody should be satisified.Elections are won not by leaders,but by the party cadres.They are the ones who work tirelessly to make sure that the party wins. Only a good leader can motivate them to work for the party...”, K’s father outlined party dynamics for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They referred DMK by “Kazhagam”,Karunanidhi as “Kalignyar”,Anabzhagan as “Perasiriyar”(Professor) while talking about them.Discussions were held late into the night about Moopanaar’s indecisiveness,Vai Ko’s departure from DMK(the first time around),Amma’s arrogance.It was a fascinating world – politics and tamil film industry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Politics was a part and parcel of their way of living unlike ours,a typical middle class brahmin family.It entered our lives only during the annual railway and union budget.Train fares,tax cuts,LPG prices – these were our only ties with politics and occasionally potholes.Dravidian movement had branded us feudal landlords,aryans,sanskrit spouting academics,who had repressed the Dravidians in the name of caste,religious rituals and superstitions.Elections had been won on promises to restore Tamilnadu to Tamilians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my parents’ held a “healthy” brahminical contempt and indifference towards Dravidian politics.We looked the other way, read our “HINDU” ,drank filter coffee and continued to vote for the non existant Congress until BJP came along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A brief flicker of interest was aroused when the convent educated English speaking AMMA came first to power .“Can he string together atleast two words in English like her?? pshaw!!” , the brahmins rubbed their hands and chuckled in unconcealed glee. Alas! It was shortlived. The flicker was snuffed out forever after she implemented 69% reservation.We were better off,before she came,everybody sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Given the background, I am sure you will agree with me when I say that the storyline is highly controvesial and very contemporary. What Maniratnam had undertaken was nothing less than a tight-walk rope over a bed of nails with a knife pointed at his neck,ready to bleed him to death ,if he so much as shook his body slightly. Believe me, I am not exaggerating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is with some trepidation then that I started watching “IRUVAR”.But Maniratnam acquits himself in a way,I would have never imagined!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maniratnam’s “IRUVAR” is the story of two people – a poet and an actor , their friendship ,their dreams and their ambitions.It is just a convenient co-incidence that their lifestory resembles two people from Tamilnadu politics and film indusrty.Nothing more and nothing less!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anandan, a struggling actor from Kerala and Tamilchelvam, a poet and activist strike a friendship on the sets of Anandan’s first film as a hero.The actor is a fan of the poet. He knows that with the help of the poet’s fiery pen,he can reach the masses like nobody else can! His instinct turns out to be right.He becomes a Star.And no ordinary Star at that! The mass worship the very land he treads on.He himself does not understand the adulation showered on him or realise the power that is all his to grasp!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is Tamilchelvam who opens Anadan’s eyes to what he has been offered in a brilliantly conceived scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anandan is dragged from his lunch to the terrace by Tamilchelvam.He urges Anandan to go and look. Anandan walks to the edge of the terrace and is puzzled to see a huge crowd, gathered to catch a glimpse of him.Cries of joy erupt from below on seeing him. Tamilchelvam raises Anandan’s hesitant hand aloft to wave and Santosh Sivan’s camera rises along with their hands and looks down at the people who have become putty in those hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“This is the power of people.This is what Lenin Stalin and Hitler slogged to attain.The power to reach the masses”, Tamilchelvam points out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I am just an actor”, Anandan protests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“They don’t think like that.They have carved your figure in their hearts.They will even give their life for your sake.What are you going to do with this?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What should I do?” ,Anandan does not know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You should make use of this.You should increase it thousand fold for the party.Everything depends on your face and the silverscreen “ instructs Tamilchelvam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As A R Rehman’s brilliant score soars over us, Anandan ever the quick learner, removes his scarf and throws it to the people gathered below, whipping them into a frenzy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Together they dream of a casteless society without corruption or abuse of power or poverty.They envision a society where power and responsibility go hand in hand and where their Tamil flourishes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anandan also later joins the party.Though he is sincere and respects the party principles and leaders, he has joined the party only to further his ambitions as an actor.Tamilchelvam rightly guesses his motive and resents it.He also begins to get jealous of Anandan’s popularity.He tries to block Anandan’s rise in the party by opposing the leader Veluthambi’s(C.N Annadurai) decision to field him in the election&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.Later when he is elected as Chief Minister with Anandan’s support, he refuses to make him a minister.&lt;br /&gt;“You can have whatever you want, if you stop acting.It is not my decision.It is the executive committee’s decision”, Tamilchelvam tells Anandan,when Anandan expresses his interest to become the Health minister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inspite of this Anandan does not allow his supporters to badmouth Tamilchelvam.But everything crumbles soon after the death of Veluthambi.Anandan asks to see the financial accounts of the party and is expelled from the party.He then launches his own party and rest is history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anandan’s popularity keeps him in power for the next decade.None can defeat him.But unexpectedly,Anandan dies in his sleep on the eve of the third election .Anandan’s death causes great pain anguish to Tamilchelvam and the movie ends with a grieving Tamilchelvam,the poet in him reciting a eulogy for his dead friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maniratnam focuses mainly on the relation between the friends,keeping the rest in background.MGR’s populistic schemes,the corruption in both the regimes,the controversial Gupta commision report , the political rhetoric of the parties, their lovelives – all are covered in the passing.Though Kalpana, Jayalalitha’s character, is devoted considerable amount of time.Curiously,she gets killed in an accident.I believe it could be because Maniratnam would have preferred to end the movie with a grieving Tamilchelvam,than with a Kalpana coming to power.After all the movie is about friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, the movie is very culture speicifc.It takes for granted that you are aware of certain incidents,facts and the then prevailing political atmosphere making it difficult for outsiders to relate to the movie.But then,it is their loss !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“IRUVAR’S” casting is nothing short of brilliant,with the exception of ofcourse Aishwarya Rai.She looks breathtakingly beautiful as Anandan’s first wife.But as Kalpana (Jayalalitha supposedly resembles MGR’s dead first wife.So Aishwarya Rai plays both Anandan’s first wife and after her death comes again in the role of Jayalalitha), she is a pain to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mohan Lal, the malayalee actor is just perfect as Anandan what with MGR himself being a malayalee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is this scene with the Police commissioner Nair ,who tells Anandan, the CM then , that Tamilchelvam has been arrested (for protesting against the suppression of the Gupta commision report). The commissioner assures him that Anandan has emerged victorious in the whole mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You call this victory?! “ Anandan asks Nair and momentarily slips into malayalam&lt;br /&gt;“Pazhaya kootukaaranai jailil aakkiyadho?”(Sending my old friend to jail?)..&lt;br /&gt;Brilliant..just brilliant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly,Suhasini Maniratnam has penned the dialogues.I would have never guessed she had so much in her.Good job lady!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The struggling actor, the Star, the lover, the friend who feels betrayed , the successful politician – Mohan Lal’s acting brings out all the nuances of his character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But more than Mohan Lal, it is Prakash Raj as Karunanidhi who is the most impressive.He fits the Dravidian politican role to a tee.He deserved the national award for ‘Best supporting actor’. His tamil diction is impeccable.He is a Kannadiga,mind you! Inspite of that Arvindswamy has lent his voice for Tamilchelvam’s poetry renditions. Mr.Swamy gets the emotions right, but his La-Zha pronounciations, where lies the beauty of Tamil language, makes you wince.It is surprising that nobody bothered to correct it!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revathi,Tabu,Nasser,Delhi Ganesan,’Nizhalgal’ Ravi, all play their role perfectly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Tamilchelvam is a poet,we get to hear some wonderful tamil poetry, thanks to Vairamuthu.His pennings - be it for the revolutionary tamil hero,whom Anandan plays in the silver screen, or the one for Tamilchelvam’s description of his love for Tabu – do not fail to give you goosebumps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maniratnam has undertaken to paint a mammoth canvas,which spans close to four decades…four decades of Tamil movies,politics and life. And succeeds brilliantly. He is aided splendidly in this job by A R Rehman.The 50’s classical based songs,the 60’s MSV-Ramamurthi’s melodies,the 70’s jazz(??) music and the typical MGR fare – everything is provided by ARR with perfection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inspite of all this,the movie failed at the box office!!! The reason, I believe is Maniratnam’s Anandan and Tamilchelvam are nothing like the audience’s idea of MGR and Karunanidhi. To sculpt his MGR and Karunanidhi ,he has whittled down all their negative traits and has retained only that was good and pure in them ..Anandan,the ambitious actor,the charmer,the dreamer, the do-gooder and Tamilchelvam , the poet,the socialist,the reformist,the champion for the cause of Tamil – both good friends with a little jealousy and ego between them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The non-believers would have been irked by the idealism portrayed by the characters, the believers would have been hurt to see that their leaders are not flawless and the ordinary men would have found it difficult to relate to these people,for its true as Mani claims in the beginning - they are fictional!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes Mr.Ratnam,I agree with you! Your story is not a true story.For you talk about what could have been,not what was ! It is fictional alright!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********************************************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day before Anandan dies,Tamilchelvam and he, accidentally meet at the marriage of a common friend.Anandan on his own accord walks and sits next to Tamilchelvam.As the photographers start clicking furiously, both sit without exchanging a word, but their heart reverberates with old emotions.As Anandan gets up to leave,he slips and Tamilchelvam immediately leans to catch him.He notices that his friend looks ill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Anandan,what is wrong?” , worry creases Tamilchelvam’s forehead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Nothing…I am fine”,Anandan smiles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Udal mannukku,uyir tamizhukku !!” (The body is for the earth,but life is for Tamil) he jokes, referring to their youth’s passion.Tamilchelvam laughs with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“With election round the corner,we cannot be seen smiling thus in public!”,Anandan pats his friend and leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day,when Tamilchelvam gets the news he cannot believe it!He rushes to see his friend.But he is asked to wait out, as Anandan’s body is being dressed.A touch of irony here as makeup is being shown applied to the dead Anandan – an actor to the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tamilchelvam is unable to share his pain with anybody there..(Bloody brilliant acting my Prakash Raj here).There is nobody there who can relate to his pain,much less believe him .He tries to ask the yound doctor present there,but words fail him.The Commissioner talks to him about security concerns!! He leaves without seeing his body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The climax alternates between shots of Anandan’s funeral procession and Tamilchelvam reciting eulogy to his friend in their meeting place of yonder!…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Ennarum thozhane,idayathu nanbane !&lt;br /&gt;Manikka mazhayae,maraindhu vittaya?&lt;br /&gt;Munnoru pozhudil,meesai mulaikkira vayadil,&lt;br /&gt;Or ilayil sorundom..&lt;br /&gt;Oru paayil kan malarndom..&lt;br /&gt;Anda ninaivugalin kanneeril, nenjukuzhi niraikiradhu..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nam kangal vevveru,kanavugal onrundaan!!&lt;br /&gt;Nam nejnam vevveru, ninaivugal onrudhaan!!&lt;br /&gt;Nam kottaigal vevvru, kozhgaigal onrudhaa!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edhilum mundi vara thudikkum munaipullavane..&lt;br /&gt;Saavilum ennai mundi sarithiram ayinayo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En vetrikku malai thanda karam enge?&lt;br /&gt;En vizhi neerai sunditivitta viral enge?&lt;br /&gt;Kuzhal konda isayaaga konjunginra kural enge?&lt;br /&gt;En muthuvel vasanathai muthamitta uthadu enge?&lt;br /&gt;Ennai oor naal sumandu yetri vandda thol enge?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayyago..!!!.&lt;br /&gt;Ini paarkave mattaya nanba?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ELLin munai alavum ippozhudu kasappillai&lt;br /&gt;Pullin nuni alavum ippozhudu pagai illai&lt;br /&gt;Maranathai pola en manathirkku marundillai&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unnodu oru vaarthai pesathaan ninaithen,mudiyavillai&lt;br /&gt;Nalindu vitta udal varudi nalam ketka thudithen,mudiyavillai&lt;br /&gt;Indru un roja poo mugathil muthamida ninaikiren,mudiyavillai&lt;br /&gt;Mutti varum kannerai mudivida ninaikiren,mudiyavillai&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poi vaa nanba poi vaa..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un pakktahil enakkum oru padukkai virithu vai&lt;br /&gt;Enrenum oru naal un arugil naan varuven&lt;br /&gt;Innoru ponneram ennai thedi vanthaal&lt;br /&gt;Kaalam oru sengolai en kaiyil thandaal&lt;br /&gt;Un kanavum en kanavunm oru pozhudil niraiverum&lt;br /&gt;Un kallarayin kaadhugalil nalla seidhi arangerum!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dear friend,my heartfelt,shower of diamonds,are you gone?&lt;br /&gt;Sometime ago,in our youth,we ate out of the same plate and slept on the same bed,&lt;br /&gt;Those memories wrench my heart&lt;br /&gt;Our eyes are different,but our dreams are alike&lt;br /&gt;Our hearts are different,but our memories are alike&lt;br /&gt;Our fortresses are different,but are ideals are alike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always seeking to be the best,you had to better me in death too!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are the hands that garlanded me in my victory?&lt;br /&gt;Where is the finger that dried my eyes?&lt;br /&gt;Where is the voice that was my music, the lips that uttered my dialogues?&lt;br /&gt;Where is the shoulder that bore my weight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you never see me again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have no bitterness or enmity now&lt;br /&gt;My heart has no medicine like death&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sought to speak one word with you,I couldn't&lt;br /&gt;I sought to enquire after your health,I couldn't&lt;br /&gt;Today, I wish to kiss your rose like face,I can't&lt;br /&gt;I wish to stop my pouring,I can't...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Farewell my friend,Farewell!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Save a bed near you for me&lt;br /&gt;Some day I will come to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If another golden era came my way and the throne be mine..&lt;br /&gt;Your dreams and mine will materialise in the one era&lt;br /&gt;The ears of your tomb will receive the good news..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9486878-114782997238743893?l=ink-on-paper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/feeds/114782997238743893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9486878&amp;postID=114782997238743893&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/114782997238743893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/114782997238743893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/2006/05/iruvar-duo.html' title='Iruvar - The Duo'/><author><name>Scout</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07637215623953380976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.icomsolutions.co.uk/images/inkpot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9486878.post-111226612589627668</id><published>2005-03-31T02:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T22:18:46.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All you, who hate Karan Johar and the likes....</title><content type='html'>This one is for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a translation(by me) of the foreword written by Jayakanthan for his short novel "Not because of kindness" ( Kaunayinaal alla). Jaykanthan is a noted tamil writer, who was given the Jnanpith award for 2002 recently.(2002 award is given in 2005!!!!!!). He is 71 now. He won the Sahitya academy award when he was just 38.He is (was) a prolific writer and has written about 40 novels and 200 short stories.&lt;br /&gt;And to think that Jaykanthan is a self taught man!! He ran away from home the age of 12 and lived with his uncle in Madras , who was a communist party member. He has had no formal education after that and lived in the Jansakthi office.Hence the leftist leanings in him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe Jayakanthan was the one who started writing in the local dialect of the people. Earlier all class of people spoke alike in stories, i.e in proper pure tamil. Jaykanthan wrote the way a labourer or a brahmin  would speak just as they would speak in real life .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of his stories created controversies for their unorthodox-ity(??) .I would like to point out one particular story he wrote in the 60's - "Agni parikshai" (Trial by fire), if I am right. A young brahmin girl on her way home one night, gets raped. When she reaches home and her mom , an orthodox brahmin widow (orthodox to the extent that she has shaved her head and wears the saffron colour saree) realises what has happened  she just asks her to take a bath and forget the incident.And the story ends there.(In Tamil culture, "thalai muzhugidradhu" or pouring water on head symbolises renouncing a particular relation/thing. Here the mom is asking her daughter to renounce or put that accident behind her).This short story was published in Ananda Vikatan*(1) and obviously stirred a hornet's nest in those days. &lt;br /&gt;The story was later made into a movie .But in the movie they make the girl meet the guy who rapes her later and fall in love with him and I believe it was not in the same spirit as the story was.  Neither have I read the story nor have I seen the movie. But I have seen that particular scene where the mother asks the daughter to take bath. And this was pointed out to me by my mother, while I was flipping channels .She narrated the story too I believe. I am not sure. I was pretty young then , maybe 13 or 14and it always surprises me that my mom chose to point out this to me at that age.But then thats another blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently spotted a library , which has a good collection of tamil novels and got some Jayakanthan's books to read. His forewords to his novels and short story collections are as interesting to read as his stories themselves.  The ideas expressed below are not new to any of us, but I was just impressed that this was written by Jayakanthan in 1965!!! An age when the likes of Shivaji and MGR ruled the roost,the former because of his ability to deliver  pages and pages of dialogue with passion non stop and "acting" abilities and the latter  who always played larger than life roles on screen.An age when it was noble to suffer , to sacrifice ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have tried to translate the foreword to the best of my abilities. If the piece below is lacking in flavor or spirit, its only because of my limitations as a translator and not anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FOREWORD for "Karunayinaal alla" -by D Jayakanthan.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am writing this short story with the full knowledge that unlike my others published in Ananda Vikatan*(1), this one would not a have roaring welcome. It has become my nature to stir controversy through whatever I write.I liked it too.But lately I have been wanting to develop a approach to writing non-controversial things and also a taste for them. I have written lots of short stories in an effort to do that. "Not because of kindness" (Karunayinaal alla) is because I wanted to write a short novel too in the same genre.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Exaggerated emotions have always disgusted me. When on the rare occasion this has happened to my own writings, without my realisation and because of the influence of the prevalent  atmosphere, I have been disgusted with it too.I am saying this cautiously because some might think that anything emotional is exaggerated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before deciding that something has been exaggerated, all angles concerning it should be taken into consideration.&lt;br /&gt;An impact of an incident on one would be more or less, depending on the way one views the incident.This level of impact can be understood only if we are capable of putting ones'  own self aside and understand that given the social atmosphere,unique past, this character would behave in this fashion only.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This mental state is essential not only for the writer, but for the reader too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In our current society's art and literary scene,everything is exaggerated.The  amount of exaggeration in the reaction to the death of a soldier in war, which  has departed form the stain of sadness to celebrating it as a noble sacrifice, would make one think that people might cry for those who have survived the war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I happened to read a "special" short story written like a Diwali sweet.A mother is crying for her son who has died in the warfront. The father consoles her by saying "Don't cry.Be happy.." and continues to speak along the lines of glorifying death in war and courage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The presence of such exaggeration in literature would only result in the growth of a dumb-wit trend.This disgusting exaggeration is present in all departments like cinema, drama and stories to the extent of saturation.What is the reason for such a trend? It is because the socity is afflicted with a mental disease called sadism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoying torturing a man, deliberately exaggerating tendar emotions,rolling a iron rod on the strings of a Veena,repeatedly showing the dead body of a kid which was playing  short while ago,making a respected and strong gentleman cry - what are these, if not sadism?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the above are non-existant in life.If crying is an art, the above mentioned are basic necessities to such a society.These are not abnormal; they are sub-normal -  cruel caricatures of emotions lower than the normal day-to-day ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people whom we meet in daily life are not show-cases.  16 years olds are not the only ones who are in love .Those walking hand-in-hand are not college going young girls and boys , shown in movies. I am not gloating that this truth has been discovered by me.It is a truth known to all , experienced by all, yet not known to the writers and readers of today.Neither is it known to the movie makers and movie goers of today. The fact that everybody knows this truth and that it shows the contradictions in our cultural and social life, is realised by me or maybe some people similar to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such a realisation should help develop a taste.That is why Gouri knows that sadness is present in the lonely state of a human,despite having all comforts in life.And also why Mudaliar knows that complications and frustrations can occur not because of others' hate, but because of their kindness too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is not hormones or physical attraction alone. A dignified emotion in our lives has been disgraced by our stories and our attempts at art.As a result of this, love is disgraced in real life too sometimes, infact many a times nowadays.Even insuch a society I have seen people like Gauri and Mudaliar, whome society has made fun off, fall in love.Physical needs is not the basis of human love. It has other basis and reasons like society, economical conditions and manodharma*(2).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life has not happened beyond the above said reasons.But the stupidity of considering what is art and stories for reasons other than the above mentioned is being nurtured now. As a result some try to put forward an "intelligent" arguement like "How can we enjoy reading or watching  the same things which we experience in our day to day life?" These people want to forget this complicated and difficult life by spending a few hours reading and watching something! Art and literature should supply the necessary intoxication is their arguement.This is not even a complete arguement.Even while supplying this intoxication, they want me to wear the masks of culture and heritage and save these people's face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, life is complicated and full of difficulties.Those people who think these problems are never ending can commit suicide.It would do them good.That they do not think this way really is proven by the fact that they continue to live and read.Because they are scared, they wage some kind of shadow war to escape from themselves.Anyone hwo is living cannot afford to forget life.Instead they should try and understand life. If one wants to understand something, one cannot ignore it and talk about some other thing to understand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The truth, emotions and sentiments which we experience in daily life, but do not understand- I am trying to talk about only those"  - If we are able to cultivate an attitude to write and read with this consciousness ,then we can experience something special even in our ordinary and mundane daily activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thank the magazines, publishers wo have helped me in sharing such experiences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glossary:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Ananda Vikatan - Tamil weekly magazine.&lt;br /&gt;2) Manodharma - (Mano means "of heart".Didnt know a equivalent word. so i ams just reproducing it).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9486878-111226612589627668?l=ink-on-paper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/feeds/111226612589627668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9486878&amp;postID=111226612589627668&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/111226612589627668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/111226612589627668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/2005/03/all-you-who-hate-karan-johar-and-likes.html' title='All you, who hate Karan Johar and the likes....'/><author><name>Scout</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07637215623953380976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.icomsolutions.co.uk/images/inkpot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9486878.post-110561133667439468</id><published>2005-01-13T02:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-13T02:45:06.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Summa....aise hich..</title><content type='html'>Commencement of uttarayana , end of Margazhi is here.Bhishma Pitamaha waited till Uttaryana punyakaala to breathe his last it seems.oh, well..all i can think is Chennai is gonna get hotter everyday now.**sigh**  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yday KTV reminded viewers that today is Bhogi by playing "Kattukuyilu manasukuLLe.." from Thalapathi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;poda ellam vittu thaLLu&lt;br /&gt;pazhasa ellam suttu thaLLu&lt;br /&gt;pudusa ippo pirandomenru , ennikkoLLada &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[&lt;em&gt; shoot the past, let the bygones be bygones...lets think we were born anew today ]&lt;/em&gt;---  am tempted to point out SPB vs Jesudoss in the above song...but let that be--------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inspite of it, forgot that today is Bhogi.Thanks to NDTV, morning was spent discussing the pontiffs.  &lt;br /&gt;Sights of streets flooded with Sugarcanes , Tamarind plants(is that whay they r called?)  reminded me that Sankranthi n Boghi are out there .And  ofcourse, the smog early morning. Lot of want-Blr-in-Chennaiites mistook it for fog ..heheheh..&lt;br /&gt;anyways, familiar sights are reassuring . An advantage of staying in the place u grew up, i suppose. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sahara ONE aired Mr.India last Sunday..and to think Mogambo passed away just two days after !!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this song was going on "&lt;em&gt;Karte hain hum pyaar Mr.India se.."&lt;/em&gt;. I told Dill, "&lt;em&gt;now dats Kishore Kumar "..&lt;/em&gt;Dill said Kishore had died by then. Argued it was indeed him, but Dill wudnt listen. When &lt;em&gt;"Kaate nahin kat the yeh din.."&lt;/em&gt; came, again felt it was Kishore..but was kind of not sure..&lt;br /&gt;Monday checked raaga.com n called back Dill triumpantly..all I got was a &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Monday subah subah kaam nahin hai tumhe!!!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me thinks, Dill needs to learn to be more graceful in accepting defeat, humph!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whats with this year n pregnant ladies !!!&lt;br /&gt;Today got to know that two gals , i know, gave birth to babies sometime last week.That makes 2 out of the 8 I know, who are pregnant.More wickets to fall in the forthcoming months..3 of them just in June!!  Something wrong with chennai water..or some kind of breeding season in June maybe??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sharath Kumar has a Pongal release "Ayya" - i guess this is the third movie where he is doing the "father-son" dual role.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only Rajni in his prime did a father's role with quiet dignity in &lt;em&gt;"Nallavanuku nallavan"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he sings &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;chittuku chella chittukku ,&lt;br /&gt;oru siragu muLaithadhu&lt;br /&gt;rathathil vandha sondhangaL, andha uravu murindhadhu "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ the little bird grew wings..the relations that came thru blood, got broken (cuz of the wings ]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my heart goes out for him...**sniff**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont know how to end the blog...so stoooooooooooooooooooooooppping here..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On second thoughts will end with a thalaivar song..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Raman aandalum, ravanan aandalum enakkoru kavalai illa..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ i dont care if Ram rules or Ravan rules..]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9486878-110561133667439468?l=ink-on-paper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/feeds/110561133667439468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9486878&amp;postID=110561133667439468&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110561133667439468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110561133667439468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/2005/01/summaaise-hich.html' title='Summa....aise hich..'/><author><name>Scout</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07637215623953380976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.icomsolutions.co.uk/images/inkpot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9486878.post-110450109340042498</id><published>2004-12-31T05:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-31T06:17:07.400-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing up with  boys..(Part 1)</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Cycle all the way..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was late afternoon .The whole apartment was quite . I was hurrying down the stairs to Food world. At the bottom of the stairs ,Vishal n Vinay almost crashed into me with their cycles.Both were the brothers and stayed in the opposite house.Vishal was 7 n Vinay 5. Vinay flashed a grin at me, turned to Vishal and said urgently "Speed anna..anna pls.."&lt;br /&gt;Vishal got down from his cycle, which was slightly bigger than Vinay's. He violently pulled Vinay's cycle from the stairs, turned it and started pushing the cycle with Vinay in it.Out they went shreiking, yelling across the parking lot. I got scared at their speed and rushed to tell them to slow down. Sure enough, before I could reach them, I saw them crashing into the gate. Luckily, they were not hurt. But the cycle's handlebar was twisted .Vishal straightened it and again they went yodelling.&lt;br /&gt;The scene was so familiar , I forgot to rebuke them for cycling so fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many summers back, on a similar hot afternoon ,Jem was teaching me cycling. I was a fourth grader then and Jem in 9th grade.The cycle was rented by the hour . Jem, after another bout of running behind my cycle , was standing panting , sweat pouring down his body. He was at his  wit's end trying to teach me cycling . I was simply not able to balance . I kept doing drunken-driving.&lt;br /&gt;So, Jem the intellectual that he was, suggested me to peddal fast.&lt;br /&gt; "If u cycle fast, u can balance easily" and gave the cyle a push, with all his might. I peddalled fast and lo, the cycle was going on a straight line. I was simply exhilarated at this thrilling experience  and pedalled more furiously .WHAM! BANG! I had hit the lamp post.Blood was pouring down my knee and tears welled in my eyes. Jem came near me and said triumpantly "Good.that works. If u ride fast , u are able to balance. Keep that going and u will be able to ride easily soon. And yes, dont forget to keep your eyes open".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that guys is my eldest brother Jem - our inhouse 'dry wit' expert and ofcourse intellectual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went crying to my mom , expecting loads of sympathy.	&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How do u expect to learn cycling without hurting urself? Go clean ur Knee and put some Mebusil*[1]"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that, is my mom - guess by now u know how she is-- she wears that 'am-da-practical-lady' sign on her sleeve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of the summer, I learnt to ride the bicycle on my own. Then we had two bicyles - one for Jem and one for Ben. Ben is my second eldest brother,two year elder than me.Both of them went to school in cycle, while I went in rickshaw. I yearned to go in cycle too, but my mom decided 5th grade was too young to be going in cycle to school and my supplication was summarily rejected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Towards the middle of my 5th grade , it was decided that I should start taking the Hindi prachar sabha exams .And so I was also enrolled for hindi tuitions. Jem and Ben were attending  hindi classes already. Since Jem was in 10th grade and was busy with board exam preparations and also becuz achiever-he-was-going-to-be, he roamed around with a &lt;br /&gt;'do-not-disturb-me' sign written all over .So it fell upon Ben to ferry me to-n-fro the tuition in his bicycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Ben had a &lt;em&gt;sisdistic&lt;/em&gt;(sister+sadist-sadistic when he sees sister-  maybe Yosso can explain better) streak in him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first few days of our trip on cycle was without any incidents. Then it started .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day  Ben stopped  the cycle on the way suddenly and said "Scout, get down for a moment".&lt;br /&gt;I immediately got down from the carrier, wondering whats wrong!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben turned to me and said "Now run along with me "started cycling nonchalantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bewildered, I started running beside the cycle with tears threatening to run down any moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes, he stopped the cycle and asked me to climb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When  I reported the incident back home , mom  shouted at Ben. But Ben protested and looked amused.&lt;br /&gt;And ofcourse, mom shouted at me for being stupid enough to get down n run along, when he asked me to. So I was determined the next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few days, we had a fight on the way to tuition and Ben asked me to get down again.&lt;br /&gt;I got down from the cycle and told him that I would walk my way .Ben was cycling slowly beside me .After a few mins, he asked me to get on the cycle. I flatly refused.&lt;br /&gt;Ben was getting worried . He knew that If i reached tuition walking, the teacher would give him an earful .(She was a very nice lady and took a maternal interest in all the students).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben then told me that if I didnt climb on the cycle , then he would curse that my sandal would break.&lt;br /&gt;I was like "Right..go ahead"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to my astonishment, my sandal broke .To this day I do not know how this happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was totally put off and before I could cry and create a scene in the streets, Ben made me climb the cycle and took me to tuitions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben also took a relish in speeding up ,before approaching a pot-hole.He would stand on the pedal just when we are crossing the pot-holet. The cycle went DADDAM and my poor bottom went well..err..u know..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tired of my complaints, my parents  got me a cycle next year and put a fullstop to Ben's &lt;em&gt;sisdism&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today when I confront Ben with the above incidents, he would shake my head, laugh  and say "That was for fun deee"..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have one more memory of Ben , a far cry from his sisdistic image.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day tired of riding small bicycles, I was practicing on Ben's cycle , which was the regular size. &lt;br /&gt;Ben came to me and said "Why are u riding with both hands like gals? Practice riding with a single hand"&lt;br /&gt;I refused saying I was scared .&lt;br /&gt;Ben then hld my left hand and running beside the cycle holding my left hand , helping me practice .&lt;br /&gt;After two rounds or so on the street , I was able to ride single-handedly . Before I could show Ben, he had moved on to play with his friends......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glossary:&lt;br /&gt;1] Mebusil - I amnot sure of its name. But some kind of powder, which we used to put on injuries. Dont see it around nowadays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9486878-110450109340042498?l=ink-on-paper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/feeds/110450109340042498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9486878&amp;postID=110450109340042498&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110450109340042498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110450109340042498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/2004/12/growing-up-with-boyspart-1.html' title='Growing up with  boys..(Part 1)'/><author><name>Scout</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07637215623953380976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.icomsolutions.co.uk/images/inkpot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9486878.post-110267554264205759</id><published>2004-12-10T02:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-10T02:45:42.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Classic tales from college - Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;"The dynamics of inter-being and mono logical imperatives in lady lecturers and&lt;br /&gt;guys : A study in psychic transrelational gender modes".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a saying in tamil "Pennukku penne edhiri" -a woman's enemy is a woman herself.&lt;br /&gt;How true!! Mother-in-law, sister-in-law , daughter-in-law, co-sister , the other woman - these are the most&lt;br /&gt;popular in the enemy list.Thanks to Ektha Kapoor and satellite channels, everybody knows them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there is another breed, which is more subtle and least acknowledged outside the female community.&lt;br /&gt;They are the lady lecturers in colleges.Guys, I can see u raise ur eyebrows. Ladies, I know u r with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its after the first few months into college or after the first semesteror so. Everything is settled.&lt;br /&gt;Territories drawn, boundaries established, kingdoms **ahem** cornered - in short u r enjoying ur fair share&lt;br /&gt;of attention, when suddenly there appears signs of trouble on the horizon.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly there is a rise in the number of ppl attending lectures , chits (which have "How do u like Vitalstatistix" of A&amp;amp;o?&lt;br /&gt;written on them)&lt;br /&gt;are no longer passed to u [ hope now guys r clear that i was addressing gals above ] , flirtations in lab are almost&lt;br /&gt;next to nil , nobody even asks ur notes and....u r getting the drift right?&lt;br /&gt;BY the time u zero in on the reason - its the new pretty lady lecturer - its too late. One of the reasons,&lt;br /&gt;we gals pick up this late is ,cuz we never in our wildest dreams could have expected competition from such a quarter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no qualms in admitting that beautiful lady lecturers simply steal the attention from the poor class gals.&lt;br /&gt;These lectures fall into three broad categories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) mid-twenties&lt;br /&gt;2) mid- thirties&lt;br /&gt;3) mid-forties n above&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mid- Twenties&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These again can be classified into the married ones n not married ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These beautiful (oh yes..they are always beautiful..) mid twenties,after being a total failure elsewhere, decides to take&lt;br /&gt;a shot at teaching the local engg college. Conveniently 55 year old Prof.Rangachari goes on a long leave in the middle&lt;br /&gt;of the semester, becuz his wife is not feeling well. The college offers a temp post and Ms.Shettty steps in.&lt;br /&gt;And thats how the saga starts.Even the lone gal in the mechanical engg dept,&lt;br /&gt;throws her hands up in despair..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly all the boys go berserk,with their love for Fluid dynamics.Everyone attends the class,esp the labs.&lt;br /&gt;The number of doubts raised in conducting the "Reynold's number" calculation experiment ,would have outnumbered the&lt;br /&gt;number of doubts ever raised to Prof.Rangachari, in his 30 year teaching career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even after the labs, there is always a crowd 'waiting' to clear their doubts in lab calulations&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day she comes to class with her dupatta pinned neatly. We gals know what it means - a sleevless&lt;br /&gt;salwar and she is trying to hide that - and exchange glances. Our instintcs have been honed over generations u see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Ms.Shetty attempt to write on the board, the dupatta fails to do its job leading to some revelation.&lt;br /&gt;The collective sigh from the other sex almost choked the gals that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day at&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BOY'S HOSTEL:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ms.Shetty wore a sleeveless today!(rolling eyes)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GAL'S HOSTEL:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ms.Shetty wore a sleeveless today!(rolling eyes)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure U know how to interpret the above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These unmarried breed always wore salwar. They never wore sarees to class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the married ones wore sarees more frequently - Fridays, auspiscious days, functions etc etc.&lt;br /&gt;These elevated the art of wearing saree to a new level. It was always neatly pleated, hip, back areas covered deftly.Not&lt;br /&gt;a inch of skin to be seen anywhere. They were very careful with their sarees - wudnt walk too much on the dais that day,&lt;br /&gt;one hand is always adjusting the pallooo and generally know the art of writing on the board.&lt;br /&gt;Also, they shamelessly flaunt their newly acquired marital status - Sindoor, bangles , toe-rings etc etc, leading to&lt;br /&gt;comments "Kuch bhi bolo yaar..shaadi ho gayo tho ladkiyan sahi dikthi hai" and slurping sounds,akin to u-know-who in&lt;br /&gt;that Lambs picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Towards the end of the lacklustre semester, the only thing u look forward to is the class picnic.&lt;br /&gt;Alas!That also is marred by the presence of Ms.Shetty. Initially Ms.Shetty refuses to grace the class picnic with her&lt;br /&gt;presence. But the guys are adamant and give her the 'silent treatment' in class.Atlast Ms.Shetty has no choice(!!!)&lt;br /&gt;and relents.Thankfully, the married ones politely refuse to come for the class picnic.Bless their husbands.(They are&lt;br /&gt;always bald and pot bellied. Poor guy has to weather the baleful eyes which stare at him, when he comes to&lt;br /&gt;drop his beautiful wife at college."Lucky bastard!!!!")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the picnic day, the guys hover around her all day - carrying her bags, getting her water ,food, hanging over&lt;br /&gt;her college picnic anecdotes- in all beaving like a puppy.&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day everybody is tricked into playing truth/dare.When its Ms.Shetty's turn and she chooses 'truth',&lt;br /&gt;and the guy's pop the question which has been giving them sleepless nights throughout the semester.&lt;br /&gt;"Ma'am..do u have a boyfriend?"&lt;br /&gt;Ms.Shetty immediately laughs and says "Oh..please..somehting else.."&lt;br /&gt;But the guys start chanting "Ma'am..please Ma'am"..&lt;br /&gt;So Ms.Shetty looking all coy and all that says "Well..he is at the US now.We plan to get married when he comes down"&lt;br /&gt;"Would u then resign and join him in the US ma'am?" - the puppies ask.&lt;br /&gt;"Yes ", she says and blushes as if on cue..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is followed by a mournful silence, while we gals silently spit at the melodrama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next semester, u hear that all the guys had been to Ms.Shetty's wedding reception (ofcourse none of the gals went)&lt;br /&gt;and had presented her with a framed foto, taken at the class picnic.U breathe easily now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ofcourse , not for long...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9486878-110267554264205759?l=ink-on-paper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/feeds/110267554264205759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9486878&amp;postID=110267554264205759&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110267554264205759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110267554264205759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/2004/12/classic-tales-from-college-part-1.html' title='Classic tales from college - Part 1'/><author><name>Scout</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07637215623953380976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.icomsolutions.co.uk/images/inkpot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9486878.post-110266673983785909</id><published>2004-12-09T23:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-10T00:18:59.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The story behind Karuppan..</title><content type='html'>"Happy familes are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that explains it all.  "Karuppan" is just another story of such a family. No, Its not a true story and is not mine either. &lt;br /&gt;But loosely based on my friend and some similar incidents. The story itself was written a year ago . Those from Sulekha would have read it in Sulekha coffeehouse's creative section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This friend comes from a similar broken home. She is well educated, has a good career and a very very interesting person.But she is an emotional wreck.Highly insecure when it comes to relations. I have seen her get into one affair after another, in search for that one guy who would love her immensely.She  would easily fall for any guy,who is slightly affectionate.Ofcourse, the realisation comes later. Its not that all the guys were bad.There have been good guys.The relationship starts smoothly. Soon she becomes obsessive, jealous , demanding, paranoid and INSECURE. All affairs are doomed from the start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she knows what she is like. But she just cannot help herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been more than two years, since I last her. But I keep hearing about her from friends. And no news is good news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I think about her two incidents comes to my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One is where we are discussing "Gone with the wind". And I was comparing Darcy n Rhett Butler. 'Who was the better lover?'&lt;br /&gt;I was all for Darcy.But she liked Rhett Butler. She spoke for close to 20 mins about him. I dont recall what she said either. But I remember the tone,intonation, her excited demeanor , her involvement when she talked about him. Never seen anybody speak that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another incident is , again i do not recollect the topic, but think it was something to do with whom ones' sympathies should lie in case of a broken relation or some such complicated thing. I was stating that the person who hurts is the one to be blamed, even if he/she is also getting hurt in that process.&lt;br /&gt;For which she said "When someone(even a stranger)  accidentaly bangs their head against the ceiling bar, dont u also feel the pain when they wince ? Its almost visceral. I feel the urge to immediately go and rub their head for them. I just react to their pain. I cannot distinguish whether the reason behind the pain is righteous or not and I do not care also.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the above clealry describes Anu's character. She is the only person who can relate to her father's suffering. Others are more concerned about the results of his suffering and react only to it , including her mother. Anu knows her mother can take care of herself, but the same is not true with her father. And she resents that her mother does not do anything to reach out to her father. Even though her mother is also suffering,she does not show it and hence she is not able to relate to it.For her, her mother is just strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anu's sympathies always lie with the more vulnerable of the two and so she reacts to her father more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, I used to have some kind of twisted notion that people who suffer n have some bad experiences are more mature and can handle things with equanimity.And that those from a happy background cannot relate to other's pain. But I have been so wrong. I know a couple of friends , who are from a typical happy family -  mature parents ,good economic background and everything else that keeps a bad childhood at bay. These kids are wonderful persons today, balanced and matured with great insight into people and relations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok..Enuff written. This topic is making me depressed.A fine life wasted..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank u all for the compliments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nithya,&lt;br /&gt;Getting  publisehd in Ananda Vikatan,Kalki  used to be a benchmark for the writer's ability. But thats old story. But I can perfectly relate to the joy of readding stories in AV..thanks :-))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asuph,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, now modesty is another virtue of the ghati's?&lt;br /&gt;What do we do without our dose of Mrs.Nene?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheti,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ur comment about reasons behind the dead marraige was too apt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CEC,&lt;br /&gt;Agree with u when u say the age of Anu is kind of vague at various points of the story. When I was  writing the story, I tried to point out her age.But I was unable to fit it and it was getting in the way of narration. So I just mentioned towards the end that she was in college first year and that Karuppan's been with them for more than  10 years.&lt;br /&gt;So the narrative is from when she is around 8 years old to around 18. As for her thoughts being quite mature, I might have put my observations as hers. But guess the person involved always has a skewed understanding of his/her position, but refuses to acknowledge it.&lt;br /&gt;As for the comparison with Harper Lee., "You are too kind " :-))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SSM,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank u for the detailed comment. I confess i am a poor at commenting myself. Esp, if its a long winded one, feel lazy to type!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;But I know comments are invaluable to the writer.&lt;br /&gt;I have never had a pet dog or any kind of pet for that matter. And I am a vegetarian.Talked to a couple of non-veggies about mutton n stuff. So, I a happy to see the flavor conveyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess after I got engaged, i been having writer's block :-) So have not written anything (Or maybe I am run out of things to write about).&lt;br /&gt;U liked the template..**grin**..spent a good half an hour , trying out things. I wanted somethin with a light , non-intrusive background. LIked one, but DSS alreday had it. So went for this..nothing to do with waterbody though.. stay near beach..have gone once in the past 5 months..:((&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ardra ,buck, silk, sapna,anon,imp, Fizo (can i even hope to write a series like 'what lies beneath'!!!!!), funny cide, Saloni..thank u alll&lt;br /&gt;And ofcourse Ananth :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I am sorry for such a late reponse. Had a trianing programme at another location for the past couple of days. So couldnt check the comments. Maan! I am overwhelmes..looks like I have to think twice before I produce another piece..:-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9486878-110266673983785909?l=ink-on-paper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/feeds/110266673983785909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9486878&amp;postID=110266673983785909&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110266673983785909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110266673983785909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/2004/12/story-behind-karuppan.html' title='The story behind Karuppan..'/><author><name>Scout</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07637215623953380976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.icomsolutions.co.uk/images/inkpot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9486878.post-110242665612800130</id><published>2004-12-07T05:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-07T05:37:36.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Karuppan - Concluding part</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Conclusion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a tough time going to sleep and atlast slept in the wee hours of morning.Appa had not returned home the whole night.When I got up, Rekha was already up and studying.Amma was stirred from the bed when I went to her room."&lt;em&gt;Anu..get the milk packet from outside..otherwise the darn cat will drink it off"&lt;/em&gt;, she said groggily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My screams brought amma and Rekha running to the front gate. &lt;em&gt;Karuppan&lt;/em&gt; was lying dead near the gate.Rigor mortis had set in and she was looking frozen.I knew she was old, but I never expected this.Sobs racked my body.Amma held me gently.Rekha held something in front of my face.Amma took it from her.It was a hypodermic syringe.She pointed at a place near the compound wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same day we packed our things and left the house.We buried Karuppan in the backyard of our house before we left.The poor dog had managed to hold in place a dead marraige for almost 10 years.I have not seen appa since then.Its almost six months now.I am worried that I would bump into him someday.It worries me even more that I would hug him and start crying when I see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We never talk about &lt;em&gt;Karuppan&lt;/em&gt; at home. Sometimes I would catch amma staring vacantly at space.I wonder what's going through her mind.I had never understood her.Sometimes I think I know what she is feeling, but that thread of thought doesn't exist long enough for me to grasp it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I no longer dream about happy families , though I must admit that I feel more relaxed and happy in the new house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to meditation classes, because amma feels it would help me feel better whetever that means.The Guruji at class says time heals all wounds and we should just flow with time .I wonder if it heals scars!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I  feel that some are to stay forever permanently.For now, I am just trying to flow with time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9486878-110242665612800130?l=ink-on-paper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/feeds/110242665612800130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9486878&amp;postID=110242665612800130&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110242665612800130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110242665612800130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/2004/12/karuppan-concluding-part.html' title='Karuppan - Concluding part'/><author><name>Scout</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07637215623953380976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.icomsolutions.co.uk/images/inkpot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9486878.post-110242590131429751</id><published>2004-12-07T05:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-07T05:30:50.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Karuppan - Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Part 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Appa was as ever affectionate to us though.He would get chocolates and sometimes drop me in school.I was my happiest when he was like this.But even these were becoming rarer .Rekha was like amma. She never touched anything he got.She hardly spoke to him.Even when he made any attempts at converstaion, she would respond in monosyllables and move on.She was younger than me, but I felt she was a lot more mature than me.She never made a fuss or compalined about anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I felt as if I was the odd man in the house.Rekha, amma, &lt;em&gt;Karuppan&lt;/em&gt; - everybody drew the line somewhere.It was I ,who kept wavering.Rekha and &lt;em&gt;Karuppan&lt;/em&gt; had known only amma's affection from young. I ,who had enjoyed both for a brief period was constantly hoping for a miracle.But ofcourse, nothing happend.Appa's drinking binge and yelling continued.Sometimes he wouldn't come home for days.I knew he was going back to his mistress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;One day when Rekha and I were coming back from school, she showed me appa's mistress.She was very ordinary looking and there was nothing beautiful about her.As if understanding my thoughts, Rekha said ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Do you think he goes to her for her looks...It is the otherway round..It satisfies his ego"&lt;/em&gt;.Till that day I didn't know life was so convoluted and complicated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Then one day appa stopped giving money for household expenses.Amma wouldn't take money from amchi or mama either.She started doing her old job.This only made appa pass more comments about amma's morality.Rekha and I stopped going to convent and went to corporation school instead.I hated it.If I had asked appa to put me through convent, I was sure he would agree.After all, that's what he wanted.Rekha was appalled at the idea and minced no words in telling what she thought about me.Amma didn't say anything about the matter.It was not that I approved what appa did, but I felt there was nothing wrong in compromising a little for some happiness.Amma nowadays smiled rarely.She was either away at work or busy with tutions.Whenever she had time, she would sit near Karuppan, just stroking his back or feeding him something.It was diffcult to say whom appa hated more - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;amma or &lt;em&gt;Karuppan&lt;/em&gt;. It was always Karuppan,the target of his anger though.I was sure he wouldn't dare to hit amma.Maybe he was scared she wouldnt hesitate to hit him back.So he took out his vengeance on that poor thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;She had been with the family for now almost 12 years and was as much a sufferer as us, maybe even more.I wondered what kept us all going and if we were destined to continue this way.Amma and Rekha were my emotional strength.I drew strength from them to keep going.I wonder what they did when they felt down.&lt;br /&gt;One day when I was in first year college, I returned home to find athai*(1) and appatha*(2) sitting in the hall.It had been years since they all had come home.For almost many years now, appa had not been sending money regulalry to appatha..Appatha had come one day and yelled at amma saying she was the reason of her son's downfall.Her visit had ensured one long fight at home, when amma retorted back to appa for the first time.It had resulted in &lt;em&gt;Karuppan&lt;/em&gt; limping, for appa threw a chair on her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;After that appatha had not come here for years.Appa was sitting on the floor and amma was by the kitchen door.When I entered, athai smiled at me and said &lt;em&gt;"Vaadee..en marumagalae"*(3).&lt;/em&gt;I felt very uneasy at these people's presence and warm welcome.Amma signalled me to go inside.I went and sat on the bed. I could hear athai's voice booming..&lt;em&gt;"So, what do you say..are you okay with this or not?".&lt;/em&gt;I could hear appa mumbling.I didn't know what the matter was.But whatever it was appa didn't like it.He was alwasy like this-bad at handling problems and trying to escape from them instead of facing them head on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Just then amma said in a clear tone, &lt;em&gt;"No, we are not interested"&lt;/em&gt;.Interested in what I wondered.&lt;br /&gt;Then appatha said "&lt;em&gt;Don't interfere when I am talking with my son.Shanmugam (that was my father's name), give me an answer..I have told Parvathi's husband( my athai's husband), that I would not come back without fixing a date for the marraige".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt as though somebody was pressing a hot iron to my head.So that was what it was all about.Apatha wanted me married to Sundaram,athai's son.He was a good for nothing .He was almost 26 I think.He had not even cleared his 10th exams and managed a STD booth in village, which I suspected, my father had a hand in.I was aghast that they could even come up with such a thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Appa was again mumbling.It sounded something like "&lt;em&gt;Let her finish college"&lt;/em&gt;.Even appa didn't have the heart to get his daughter married to such a boy.Then I heard amma, &lt;em&gt;"No.I am not getting my daughter married to somebody like Sundaram.Not now, not after she finishes college".&lt;/em&gt;The moment she said I knew it was the wrong thing to say.She was insulting his relations.This would just infuriate appa more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I could hear appatha and athai shuffling to their feet. Appatha was yelling that she had never been so insulted in her life.Karuppa started growling at them .Amma tried to quieten him, " &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Karuppan..keep quiet".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;It was athai this time.&lt;em&gt;"I don't know how you are staying with this woman.She is equating you to a dog and she is constantly insulting you by calling this b*tch Karuppan.I never thought the day would come when I would see my brother reduced to such a state.Even if you agree, I don't want anything to with the women of these house.I don't want my son become like my brother".&lt;/em&gt;Karuppan chased them to the gate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I did not dare to even go outside.I was scared to even think about the outcome of this. When I went out eventually, amma was cooking dinner . Karuppan was as usual by the kitchen door.Rekha had not come back from school still.There was no sign of appa.I desperately wanted to talk about it.Amma was like as though nothing had happened.I wanted to cry out loud in frustration.God! doesn't that woman ever tire of being strong?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I narrated everything to Rekha when she came back.&lt;em&gt;"Good thing!..I am happy Karuppan chased them out.I wished she had bitten both the devils..the nerve of them", &lt;/em&gt;Rekha was furious.What else should I have expected!.Didn't anybody see what this open insult to him would do!.Rekha just brushed me off saying ,&lt;em&gt;"oh..He will not dare to do anything..he is a coward"&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Exactly !He was a coward.That's what bothered me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When I was lying on bed that night, Rekha sat next to me and brushed my head gently. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Oh..Rekha ! I am so scared ",&lt;/em&gt; I said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;She made soothing sounds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Do you think everything will become alright if I marry Sundaram.This might even help appa become nicer",&lt;/em&gt;I told Rekha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Don't be a goose Anu.Nothing can change appa.He suffers from a inferiority complex, which has no cure.Don't spoil your life for amma's life.Her's is already over.Yours has hardly begun.Don't become unnecessarily emotional", &lt;/em&gt;she hissed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Do you think we will be ever happy Rekha.Will we ever get loving husbands?", &lt;/em&gt;It was me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Ofcourse we will be happy.All are not like appa.I am sure you will get a nice husband, who will love you like crazy".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I know I am not like you or amma Rekha.I am like appa.It scares me.",&lt;/em&gt; I was on the verge of tears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"What nonsense.who said you were like appa..you are not anything like him", &lt;/em&gt;she looked like as if she was ready to hit me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I mean..I mean , I feel if amma were a little relenting everything would become alright.I sometimes feel if she were not so adamant we could be happy like old times..I get angry at amma even though I know, she is right and he is wrong!..that bothers me..",&lt;/em&gt; I started crying..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"God!..what a silly goose you are!.Anu..stop crying and look at me..I don't think amma being nicer to appa would solve the problems.Somehow appa has got it into his head that he is not good enough for amma and he desperately wants to prove that he is better.Even if amma were to bow to his demands, he would only demand more.Unless he realises that she loves him and had never thought otherwise there will be no end to this problem.", &lt;/em&gt;Rekha finished.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"But does she love him still?",&lt;/em&gt; I asked Rekha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I wouldn't know Anu.Maybe she does..or she wouldn't stay with him.I think she hopes he would change someday.", &lt;/em&gt;she replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"But how do you know she loves him ?", &lt;/em&gt;I was puzzled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"She still calls that b*tch Karuppan..",&lt;/em&gt; Rekha smiled and went to sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Glossary :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1) Athai :&lt;/strong&gt; Father's sister&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1) Appatha :&lt;/strong&gt; Father's mother&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2)"Vaadee..en marumagalae"*: &lt;/strong&gt;"Come ..my daughter-in-law" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9486878-110242590131429751?l=ink-on-paper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/feeds/110242590131429751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9486878&amp;postID=110242590131429751&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110242590131429751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110242590131429751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/2004/12/karuppan-part-2.html' title='Karuppan - Part 2'/><author><name>Scout</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07637215623953380976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.icomsolutions.co.uk/images/inkpot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9486878.post-110242331177809140</id><published>2004-12-07T04:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-07T04:41:51.776-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Karuppan - Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Short note before u start the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story mainly happens  at Coimbatore.The other places mentioned - Palladam and Pollachi are just an hour or so from Coimbatore. Thermanur n Narsipuram are small villages near Coimbatore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some tamil words and sentences used.  There is a glossary at the end of each part.Please refer that in case of need&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Karuppan*&lt;/em&gt;(1) was our dog's name.Actually she was a b*tch, but  we called her &lt;em&gt;"Karuppa.."&lt;/em&gt; anyway, out of habit.By the time I realised she was a b*tch, I had been calling her Karuppa for almost two years.It was amma who had christened &lt;em&gt;Karuppa&lt;/em&gt; as &lt;em&gt;Karuppa.&lt;/em&gt;When I learnt to differentiate boy and girl babies, I pointed out to amma that our &lt;em&gt;Karuppan&lt;/em&gt; should be actually &lt;em&gt;Karuppi&lt;/em&gt;.But amma wouldn't hear of that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;She was brought by appa as a two month old puppy.Appa got her from the hospital, he was working in.He was at the Vadugapalayam goverment veternary hospital then. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Vadugapalayam was a few kilometers from Pollachi.He would come to home to Coimbatore during weekends, where Amma ,Rekha and I stayed. Weekends used to be special days then.Amma and I would go saturday morning to buy freshly chopped mutton.Sometimes we would get chicken or fish.But mostly it was mutton.Because appa liked mutton a lot and amma loved watching appa eat it.She would cook it just the way he liked, with lots of pepper.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;She would smile and say &lt;em&gt;"Karuppan saapidratha paaaru.."(2)*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Yes, amma called appa Karuppan.Because appa was dark,dark as a coal.Whenever she was fond of him she would call him &lt;em&gt;"En  Karuppan.."*(3)&lt;/em&gt;.In contrast amma was fair.Though  Amchi*(4) would exaggerate that amma was  fair like &lt;em&gt;"Setu" * (5)&lt;/em&gt; girls &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Appa's colour was a sore point with amchi.She didn't want her fair gal to be married to such a dark guy.Also appa was not as rich as amma.Amchi and Appuchi*(6)  were very rich and had lots of lands in Theramanur and Narsipuram.Now mama managed everything.But Appa was not all that rich.He had struggled a lot when he was young and he was the only educated person in his family.He had a elder sister and two younger brothers.They all lived in Palladam and worked  in the neighbouring fields.Even now appa supported them.But amma said she would marry only appa, because appa was educated, and a doctor at that.Never mind that he treated animals. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Your father makes money by washing animal's ass",&lt;/em&gt; amchi would scoff.She would often she would grumble that she brought up a lovely parrot only to give it in the hands of a cat. But amma didn't mind all that.She never complained about appa's colour.Infact, I suspect she was infatuated with black colour.That's why she called &lt;em&gt;Karuppan, Karuppan..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;She would say &lt;em&gt;"This was brought by my  Karuppan.."&lt;/em&gt; and  hug her close.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Karuppan&lt;/em&gt;  was great fun to be with.She was a crossbreed or something, though she looked like any other street dog to me.As soon as I came from school she would lunge hard at me.Then we would play till amma came back from work.Amma taught at the neighbouring school to KG students.When appa was in Coimbatore and staying with us, she didn't work.But now that he has been transferred to Vadugapalaym, she felt bored at home. She would take Rekha, my younger sister, along with her.As soon as amma came Karuppan had time for nobody else.She was such a disloyal dog.When amma was around,she never cared about anyone.She would just trot behind amma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Wherever Mary went. the lamb was sure to go.."&lt;/em&gt;.That was how it was with Karuppan.If amma was in the kitchen, she would sit just outside the door, because she was not allowed inside.If she was in the bedroom,she would sit near the bed.On our saturday trips to the mutton shop, he would also come with us.Kandasaamy annan,the mutton shop owner, always threw a piece for him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; For some strange reason,Karuppan would never go  near appa.She always maintained her distance from him.Appa tried to entice her by throwing a piece of mutton from his plate.But she would never touch it.And Karuppan would not go near amma either when appa was around.I could never understand it then. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;It was more than three years since appa had been transferred and three weeks since he had come home for weekend.For the past few months he had been irregular in coming, skipping a week or so in between.But never three weeks in a row.Amma was so sure he would come this week that she had got an extra leg of mutton and made soup. When he had not turned up till noon, we went outside and rang up his hospital.Actually it was not a hospital, just a small room in a large compound, where lots of animals were tied.i had once been to the hospital, when I had gone attend a wedding in a nearby village.Nobody picked up the phone but.Amma didn't talk to me on her way back.Even when she served lunch to Rekha and me, she forgot to serve soup.When I reminded her she looked at me blankly for a minute or so before getting the soup bowl from kitchen.That evening maama*(7) came home .Maama asked Rekha and me to go outside and play even though it was getting dark and amma didn't object. By the time we went back home,maama had left.He had gone without saying goodbye.Amma hadn't even called out for us for studying, as she usually did.When both of us finallyw ent back home,she was sitting next to &lt;em&gt;Karuppan &lt;/em&gt; stroking his back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Next day we all went to amchi's house and stayed there for a week.And ofcourse we took &lt;em&gt;Karuppan&lt;/em&gt; with us.Throughout our stay Amchi kept yelling and shouting at &lt;em&gt;Karuppan&lt;/em&gt; for no reason whatsoever.Poor thing!.When we left back for Coimbatore, maama told amma that he had arranged for everything and that machan*(8)  should be transferred to Coimbatore anytime next week. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Amma left her job and stayed at home.Two weeks later appa came home.He had got transferred to Coimbatore.But nothing was ever the same.Amma rarely spoke to appa.Even if she did it was just a word or two.All the communication was through me.We did have mutton on weekends.But we didn't go to the shop to buy it.Amma had it delivered home.Appa invariably came late and often drunk.He would vomit on the floor sometimes and amma wouldn't go near it.It would remain there stinking like hell till the maid servant came next day to clean it.He would yell at amma calling her names and shout obscene words.Amma would just stand there listening to him rave and rant until he tired himself to sleep.She would not cry  nor would she yell back at him.She would stand there with the loyal &lt;em&gt;Karuppan&lt;/em&gt; by her side.&lt;em&gt;Karuppan&lt;/em&gt; would growl now and then at appa, which would infuriate appa to no end.He would throw at him with whatever he could lay his hands on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;On one of my visits to Amchi's house, I learnt from athai that appa had a &lt;em&gt;thoduppu&lt;/em&gt;-a mistress- at Pollachi and that's why he was not coming home regularly.And that maama had ensured through his contacts that he get transferred here.Athai asked me if appa still went to see his &lt;em&gt;thoduppu?&lt;/em&gt;I was too bewildered to answer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;From that day I lived in constant fear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; I hated the changed atmosphere at home.There was always a unseen tension in the air when appa was around.I would move around fearing that it would snap whatever it was and the whole thing would come crumbling on my head.Most of the days I would cry myself to sleep.Amma hated it when I cried and would say that girls should never cry.It was a sign of weakness according to her.Nevertheless I cried .It made me feel better and I thought it would be a lot better if amma cried too.Because I knew that that was what appa wanted.He wanted her to cry, to beg to him, to plead with him.But amma would never do that.She was strong, too strong for her own good I thought.She was always adamant about what was wrong and what was right!.She would not forgive father for what he did , neither would she leave him and go to amchi's house.It would mean admitting to amchi that her choice had been wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Glossary:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1) Karuppan:&lt;/strong&gt; the dark/black one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2) "Karuppan saapidratha paaaru.."&lt;/strong&gt; - "Look at Karuppan eating"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3) "En Karuppan.." :&lt;/strong&gt; "My Karuppan.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4)  Amchi      :&lt;/strong&gt;  Amma's mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5) "Setu" girls :&lt;/strong&gt; North Indian gals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6) Appuchi   :&lt;/strong&gt;  Amma's father.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7) Maama    :&lt;/strong&gt; Maternal Uncle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8) Machan   :  &lt;/strong&gt;Brother-in-law&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9486878-110242331177809140?l=ink-on-paper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/feeds/110242331177809140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9486878&amp;postID=110242331177809140&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110242331177809140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9486878/posts/default/110242331177809140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ink-on-paper.blogspot.com/2004/12/karuppan-part-1.html' title='Karuppan - Part 1'/><author><name>Scout</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07637215623953380976</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://www.icomsolutions.co.uk/images/inkpot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
