Hajaamath

Two silly colleagues of mine, while inspecting Oliver, said “Oh wow, no scratches on your car yet huh?” ashte mugith kathe, after putting their buri nazar on my beloved car they left. Exactly 48hrs later it happened.

 

I was singing “Jaya Jaya Jacketu” and driving happily. One guy with a girl behind was riding some dubaaku gaadi to my left. Thanks to the awesome road, to avoid a pothole idiot took a sudden right without even looking at his mirror, oh wait his bike had no mirror. He hit Oliver’s left eye err the headlight and fell off to the right. On Oliver mind you not under (thankfully)

The man being so awesome held his bike than balancing the lady behind. She fell and started crying. Like really loud. Enter “I-am-jobless-but-will-pass-judgments-on-every-person’s-problem-on-road” kinda people.

 

“I saw this lady overtaking and hitting that guy”, said one

 

“Oh look there is L written on her car; obviously she doesn’t know how to drive”

 

“Just because you have a car does that mean you can drive anyway you want”

 

Meanwhile I tried parking Oliver to a place so that traffic doesn’t disrupt and a man comes running, hey note down the car number the lady is fleeing. Times like these my only answer is the middle finger.

 

While people spoke and gathered, I called Pati, apparently thought I was just calling him to do time pass and did not pick the phone for few times. Next I ringed dad who was more freaked than I was, who then called the local police. The husband finally gave a call back, and came running.

 

By then too much crowd happened near the scene. Husband came. “You don’t take tension”, he said. I “tried” explaining him what happened. He again said “You don’t take tension”. I showed the damage that had occurred to Oilver, “You don’t take tension”, he said. I got irked. Then I shutup.

 

Just like the movies, police came at the last. But the guy came with a gun. HaHa, one laaTi swing and except for the people on bike, everyone escaped. Then Pati shooed me off. “You don’t take tension”, he said. “Go Home”.

 

& I came home. With Oliver of course. What happened later is more awesome than the incident. The guy is a hajama, err not cussing, by occupation he is a barber. The girl behind him is his wife, she is an awesome actress. She said “I think my sonta is broken”, bleedy agreed that she was wounded that required just first aid but broken? Seriously?

 

That hajaam got some rowdies from his place, who in turn started demanding 10k. Dad got irked and asked Pati to file a police case. I was asked to come to the station with the car. I did. Meanwhile dad’s friend called few more rowdies who then had a tiff with the opposite rowdies. Ayyo finally some rowdy who is on the verge of becoming a politician intervened, and requested us to pay medical charges, plus his vehicle’s damages.

 

& guess what medical charges were? 1400, yeah typical barber case this. For a simple first aid, bitch went to Vikram super specialty hospital, got entire body scanned/X’rayed for any possible fractures. Ughh.

 

Poor Oliver, is now in garage, lost his left eye and a big blow next to his eye. ME? I am how to deal with idiots on road certified.

 

 

 

Kavalu Daari

We often question the denials and the struggles. Like why should I study this chapter? Or why am I supposed to attend that wedding? Why did he have to leave? Why is my work so boring? Should I marry this soon?

 

Yesterday someone asked me “isn’t this the toughest you have ever been subjected to?”, I had no answer initially. But actually at different phases, various questions, each one complicated at that particular phase, & once you move ahead to another phase previous question looks damn simple.

 

When celebrations are on, retrospect never occurs. One is often lost in the crowd, because celebrations always occur in crowds. No one even has time for questions except “where is the party?”

 

I am not a believer of “When the going gets tough, the tough gets going”. You ought to push the tough else it sure doesn’t bulge. When one is struck with rough times that are directly proportional to people, its all chaos, that sense of helplessness. What do you do at these times? For some life throws lemons and for some crossroads, for me it’s always a road less traveled with someone who wants me to carry on, on my own that is.

In Their Bedroom - 2012

[[At 10pm]]

 

He: Hey baby, *trying to wake her up* you slept?

She: Duh, of course I am sleepy, when did you come home?

He: Long time back, you had whatever amount of food you were supposed to?

She: *nods*

He: You took your medicines?

She: *nods*

He: You parked car safe?

She: *nods*

He: You went for a walk evening?

She: *nods*

He: You set alarm at 6am tomorrow?

She: *nods*

He: You...*she closes his mouth*

She: Only thing remaining now, has to be done with you, so please sleep.

 

[[Lights Off]]

 

*what are you guys waiting for? Baby?? Is this Ravimama movie climax, go back to your work I say*

 

60mins of my life.

Phase I -- Unlock. Open door. Sit err slide. Keep purse. Take salwar off the door edge. Close door. Bring window pane down. Adjust mirror. Put key. Leave slipper. Throw dupatta. Put phone to charge. Wear goggles. Start car. (10 mins)

Phase II -- Drive & park (10 mins)

Undo Phase I - (10 mins)

Slurp Slurp.

If Pati wants coffee then its almost no sugar. If mom wants coffee then its light. I just adjust to their way of coffee. I hate drinking coffee alone. But today I realised, I've forgotten what is my kinda coffee. Strong. 1 spoon sugar. Really hot. Loads of foam. Filter coffee. My kinda coffee.

The joy of preparing coffee, only for myself, the way I want to -- Precious. Priceless.

Halt & Proceed

 

Travel dependency was one common topic; I & Pati always had a fight on. I am brought up with loads of pampering; so much that my father did not let me learn cycle thinking I’d fall & hurt myself. Having served in city traffic all his life, dad has encountered weirdest of situations in road accidents that he is too scared to let his child venture out into the big bad world. Riding a two wheeler was obviously out of question, come 2nd PU, the mother of educational torture, I had a chauffer driven car to commute to tuitions & college.

 

When I was in engineering, a decision was made that I shall at least learn to drive. I confronted mom, who was initially scared to let me learn without dad’s permission, but somehow said yes. I joined the classes along with T and M. I still remember when the driver asked me to drive to K.R.Circle and I saw dad’s jeep approaching from the opposite side, I almost let go steering wheel and hid myself down. Luckily I was not spotted and the course was successfully completed and even more successfully forgotten.

 

Post few years and most importantly post marriage Pati was in for a shock *Dharti Maa split into two* I did not know how to ride nor drive. The dependency was huge. He had to take me everywhere, from office to shopping to parties to functions to ok you get the point. Initially he enjoyed the togetherness, but then reality struck & he confronted me, “You need to learn driving, again”. I took up the classes and the driver who taught kept insisting Pati that I am good with basics, only need exposure in busy traffic. Driving was successfully completed again and this time DL was obtained. I had high hopes of being independent but alas destiny had different plans. Pati refused to give me his car, even if he did he constantly cribbed how hard I was with gearbox, the new car is not a toy fundas. He would shout at me and that in turn would freak me out, & once I almost banged a cycle fellow. Then I quit.

 

Fast forward to July 25th 2012, Pati was constantly in torture to wake up early so that I was dropped to gym, wait outside gym trying to sleep with altered seat. After losing his precious sleep and being targeted by the mosquitoes he decided “Let’s buy a second hand car”. I had to let go my S.Korea vacations for this decision. After constant searching and getting bad offers we went for a brand new Alto LXI. That’s right my new car, it’s been a week and driving it has been best experience of my lifetime. Others wouldn’t agree though.

 

Before I sign off, if you see a White Alto with number ending with 31 mostly in Mysore, give way & do not overtake & also don’t honk. Do all this & I promise you all are safe.

*PEACE OUT*

1. Don’t make mistakes
2. If you do, then Don’t make mistakes in mistakes
3. At least get the mistake right for the second time

Nithya Naraka

Whoever came with this title is a genius. But small problem though, according to them Nithya Naraka was what Nithyananda was giving to his disciples daily. But according to me it is Nithya naraka for the viewers of various news channels, day in day out discussing where that loafer is, in which underground he is hiding, some video of him dancing, with whom he slept & he asked whom to suck.. I mean cut the crap already.

a) Who asked those morons to go to his ashram? Govt? Police? We? They went there by themselves.

b) Agreed that they did not know what kind of crap they will be put into, but, yes important point, but, when they realized there is an issue or there is something not right about that place the didn't they have brains to come out.

c) Let’s imagine escaping was difficult, I have heard that when there is a death like situation, even the dumbest of dumb brains works, I am sure theirs too would have. They could have used an idea to escape from there

d) Once they were out, they had two choices, either shut-up (which most of them did) or else say the truth (which they are doing now after they were harassed years back)

I don’t understand the point in visiting such ashram at the first place, don’t they have faith in the lord that they fail to visit temples & visit people who claim that they are god? For few days everyone keeps telling he is an asshole & after a month or so, behold he is back in business. We see so many B grade actresses going to him (Malavika, Tara) & preaching the same in their “Baduku Jataka Bandi” type serials.

If there are people who believe in such sexually transmitted religious institutions ok fine. If you do not like it get out already. There are so many children hitting & kicking their parents of course they did not claim that they are Shiva, but yes there are such people, what can we do? It is their fucking karma.

I’d say media houses educate people, to know about a religious institution before they venture into one. Only when you know what they do will you know if those practices will help you get out of whatever crap you are going through. Else what is the point in venturing into such institutions? Even while buying a shirt you check the size by trail but when you are taking such an important decision of your life in following a “person”, not god but “human being” you got to get your facts about that person “personally”.

& for all people who are crying in TV, I pity you but agree that there is a weakness within you else who the hell does all that? Leaving job, getting an abortion, giving whole property to him ughhh horrible; Plain horrible.

He looks like a drug addict, I wonder how people even felt like meeting him forget following. Request all the women folk, kindly do not venture out into such places just because you have a bad family life, it is upto you, solve them, no one else can solve them for you.

Film: Katari Veera Sura Sundarangi

With much hype by the various maTa people & we having no work decided to watch KVSS. I tell you, all these long titled movies that get chopped into abbreviations are usually flop. Anyways our hero Uppi is “I am GOD, GOD is great” type of person. He is always bored, wants to have thrill in life so he meets Muthappa Rai. Uppi is a “gaaLi banda kaDe thoorkoLo” vyakti, initially he was roaming around KheNi, and now the latest addition is rowdy turned good man Rai. Rai tells him not to venture into underworld for just thrill, but he doesn’t listen, he visits some bar & shoots someone (I was dozing off by now), that leads to angry big brother who is also rowdy. He kills Uppi.

Meanwhile in the other world, Bhrama’s wife is keeping fitting against Yama & Indra to husband that they are kaam-chors & her husband is not giving her anytime due to being workaholic. Like a typical fitting affected husband, Bhrama writes our hero’s haNebaraha such that…

Uppi dies & flies up, up, up & up. He reaches that world where he finds entrances to “Naraka” & “Swarga”. Thanks to Bhrama, Uppi has done paapa & punya in same %, hence is given a chance to visit both places & enjoy. Thus begins his journey of nonsense talks, idiotic dances, stupid logic & mental situations.

Enter Yama, played by Ambarish, who looks perfect for the role, then DodaNNa, then Tennis, who are saviors of Naraka. He then hears some kogile type voice coming from Swarga, watches through window & sees that the voice girl is taking bath. He falls in love with the girl. Such a cheap thing to happen, to fall in love with a girl when she is having bath, I’d call it lust, anyways he now wants to cut short his Naraka journey & go there. He somehow reaches the place & makes sure swarga loka is affected. He makes our chick actress fall in love with him too. Swayamvara happens amidst so much tension & Bhrama decides to give entry.

He says, kaam-chors, you have learnt your lesson, now this Uppi will go to earth again, like nothing has happened, Yama is also sent with him, so is the new wife whose first night did not happen. Yama is entrusted with the work of getting a bad work done from Uppi. I mean how very jobless of that Yama. Bleedy so many assholes are making paapa & that guy went behind Uppi? Bhrama is also one moron only. Anyways while Uppi is about to do paapa, heroine prays to VaruNa, vaayu deva & makes sure he doesn’t do anything of such crap. Then Uppi realizes that she is his wife from heaven & goes to honeymoon (I think)

Songs – waste, story – maha waste, 3D – thuuu, I was wondering why was so much hungama between K.Manju for a crap like this. Don’t watch else you will die.

Crazy wish from Crazy Fan

3 important things I learnt from Ravimama

1.    I learnt about Puberty from Ramachari. If not completely I realized that a similar function happened at my place for my elder sister which when asked what, I was asked to shut up. Curiosity led to way too many questions & bingo at the age of 6, I knew the concept. Al though I always wondered why at my elder sister’s function no guy sang.

2.    I learnt about Shobana from Anjada Gandu. Not just that movie but most of his movies always ended with first night scene. The flowers, the talks, the “chi hogi” dialogues from heroines, usually same but still used to make me ROFL. I guess every viewer made sure they saw “The End” & then left the theatre if it were a Ravimama movie. Oh also, every first night popped up a baby (almost in secs)

3.    I learnt about Condoms from Annayya. My first step towards learning about family planning. I cherish watching that movie with my mama, asking him what did heroine’s ajji gave, mama saying “shhhh” & secretly discussing that with my mom. I thought both sister & brother did not know about that hence were doing naatka, so asked ajji directly. She called her favorite lord “Raghavendra”, and then collapsed.

I am sure there are many boys who secretly watch his songs, movies, orgasm over heroine’s belly, boobs, etc etc but yet talk like they never relished what was being served to them. Ravimama got all the actresses up north to Sandalwood, made sure they worked hard for their money & all you lucky fellows got to see the shows at the cost of Kannada movie ticket which otherwise you should have paid lot for Hindi movies. Plus who knows if the directors up there were as creative, as romantic (I’d call rasika), as naughty (I’d say poli) as our lovely Ravimama.

Here is a crazy wish coming your way, dear crazy star & namellara Ravimama. 100 years poli-thana for you!!

Pom Pom

I love coin purses. They are the ones that everyone needs more than the credit cards or cash. I once gifted my grandma a very pretty Oriflame coin purse. You know grandmas. No matter how many expensive coin purses you give them, they have to keep it in their safe deposit. That’s inside their blouse. My grand ma is no different.

My 5 year old nephew saw granny keeping purse there and taking it often. He started mimicking it. Of course the supportive organ is missing in the child & it kept falling off. He was in tears. So me & my ender sister explained him the problem, “what do I not have that granny has”, he asked. Not knowing what to say, I decided to give a silly word to it, “Pom Pom”. He seems to have understood & that was forgotten.

Few days from then we were crossing a main road & all of a sudden the same nephew started shouting “chikamma chikkamma yardo Pom Pom bidhogidhe ante”,(someone’s Pom Pom has fallen off). I was shocked. WTF how can that fall? What has the child seen?

I swear I went there with a hope. Not sure what kind of. The kiddo was pointing towards the auto horn. The green rubber horns that these old autos had; once cut had to be discarded off.

For the Vegans in Mysore

1.      Green Leaf, K D road

2.      Jwala, opposite to hotel Empire, KD road

3.      Rasoi Magic, KD road

4.      Jalpaan, near Ramaswamy circle

5.      Guru Residency, near Metropole circle

6.      Nalpak hotels (one near Vontikoppal temple, one in DD Urs road & one in Kuvenpunagar)

7.      Ramanis (one near SidharthaNagar, one in 100ft road, one on Bangalore-Mysore highway)

8.      Veg court (next to Opera theatre)

 

 

 

8 reasons why ClubMahindra membership is a waste

I am writing this with utmost disappointment. Myself & my husband have been longing to take membership with ClubMahindra for sometime now.

But before that we wanted to check out how things work, hence decided to visit one of your clubs through a member as guest.

 

We visited Club Mahindra, Coorg & we were really shocked at the level of hospitality there.

 

1.      We were welcomed by a welcome drink, while my husband was busy filling up the form, I saw that the glass I used was taken, re-filled without washing & served to someone else. They say first impression is the best impression; I almost had a heart attack at that sight.

 

2.      Club people knew that we are guests & not MEMBERS, still did not let us know the way things work there. Be it any resort, the package comes with food. Of course clubMahindra works in different way, agreed, but no one from your staff told us this. It was only during our meal while signing the bill we realized this.

 

3.      Soon we realized everything works the same way, even the light bite & coffee/tea. This is very vital for the resort staff to appraise guests about everything.

 

4.      We visited the spa & were in for a surprise again. Agreed that every resort the spas are on cost basis. But according to what we were told every room comes with a complimentary offer (not sure if it holds good for member guests). We were enquiring the same & the person in the reception refused to oblige. His answer was “Don’t know”, I mean what kind of staff would not know this basic information & be at the reception. I also saw that few ladies were querying about the same on complimentary treatments at spa who were Members & again the answer was very doubtful, may be or may not be complimentary. If there are too many people & reception is too busy then such answers (considered humanly) makes sense, but the spa was free, the reception guy was all free, but still not responding to the members was shocking

 

5.      We had booked a BR room, which came with a sofa that could be changed to bed. But because it was just two of us in the room we did not need any change of that sort, also we never made any request to the room service guys. While we both had gone out, someone from the staff came inside & changed the sofa, without permission. In any hotels, this entering without permission happens only for cleaning/laundry that too at stipulated hours. How can someone from the resort just enter the room without permission? Nothing was lost but yet that is certainly not the way things should function.

 

6.      We were to check out at 6am & hence went to reception a day before & asked them the formalities. As we were guests & non members, & there were lot of confusions as we booked an extra room, we told them to sort it out by morning as we had to head to work. Still nothing was done in the morning, people responsible were not lifting the phone because it was too early & the billing took 35mins. We also observed that there was wrong billing of food, we never ordered any food to our room, but the same was done by someone who stayed it the same room prior to us but it was billed to us. As the billing was delayed we were just going through the various items on the bill & found this.

 

7.      This is just a suggestion, we have been to various resorts, from Orange County to Windflower, but the buffet spread at Fern hall is horrible. There is no proper starter as such but just gravies, the breads are in another hall, making it difficult for the people dining to get them. What is the point of having so many gravies but no rotis/nans? Instead of having so many restaurants why not serve people well in one of them (by payment only of course) Every small hotel that serves buffet makes sure that breads are available either at the spread or made to order to table, here nothing of that sort happens.

 

8.      Also Planters club has no fans? I mean Coorg doesn’t require AC makes sense, but considering how humid it gets during summers no ceiling fans? How terrifying of sweating while having my drink!!!

 

I am quoting what we experienced. I am sure if one visits them during the time than “members only” period the hospitality would be changed. You, as a member would be treated differently than a person who is yet to be a member.

 

With the same money that I pay for membership & its interest amount, if I can afford a luxury resort with fantabulous facilities & most importantly go whenever I want to holiday then why would I buy this non-friendly membership at ClubMahindra?

 

Not sure about visiting again, but I am now sure why we are not opting for a membership there.

Bond Bond. She is the Baby Bond.

Not so long ago (Yes I am still young) there lived a girl who was studying in UKG, who was fond of questions (mostly inappropriate). She would go around holding pallu of her mom’s saree, asking questions, like, “Mom, does dad love me”, Yes “Is that why he kisses me?” Yes, “Does he love you”, Yes, “Then why doesn’t he kiss you” or “Mom why do you wear saree & not nighty like pakadhmane aunty”.

Secret behind my talkative mom going silent lies with me. Summer holidays were on, me and cousin were playing outside our thotti mane in our native. Our native is a small village on the Bangalore-Mysore highway from Mandya to Mysore. It has got hens & buffaloes, cows & sheep & greenery & oh ok you get the point.

It also has a well; common water well just behind our home. We both were advised warned not to venture nearby. Warnings to me are like invitations; I made sure I roamed around the well, always. One unfortunate day (err not for me) I had the idea of throwing stones into the well. This water well was pretty old, had water but no one from the village used it, not sure what the reason was. We threw around 20-30 stones & each hit the bottom of the well with a splash. We both were so excited to hear splash all the way up. Suddenly, a doubt popped up to me, about the depth of the well.

We discussed, me & my cousin, that after we throw a stone, one should start counting 1 2 & that way we could decide the depth. Tried few times but every time the number varied, mostly because our throwing had different strengths or stupid cousin stopped counting as he forgot numbers. The idea crapped out.

My destructive mind had started working & bang - another idea. I decided to send a person down the well, who could check on the depth & tell us back. My first option was my cousin, but he played safe. He said we are partners in crime sorts of dialogue & denied. Nearby was this child who was 2yrs old, playing with mud, we both got our “catch”? Both spoke to the kid (yes it was unfortunate day for him), told him that we will send err throw down the well, he has to make note of depth, then shout, we would put a “suthli daara” (gunny bag tying thread) & then we would pull the baby back. The kid smiled. I am sure it did not understand a word we said; even otherwise I had made my mind, that the kid would go, happily or crying, any which way.

The well had huge walls around & it was pretty taller than us. Me & cousin lifted the kid with much difficulty, the plan was to make him sit on the edge & then push him off. Please note that the kid was hefty. In this process I think the kid was bruised & he started wailing. We started speeding up our job too. The kid’s mother came running I donno from where & you really don’t want to hear what happened later.

We were grounded for entire summer vacations that year. They never got us ice cream even. Cousin still fears to go near that well. Stupid boy he is. However there is still an urge in me, to know what the depth is, game anyone?

Between us.

Saying “Sorry” is difficult. Agreed;

But have you tried saying “Thank You”, without a reason? Thank you note expresses your gratitude in a number of situations, but what are there are no situations?

One of those days today my lovely readers;

Thank You!

R – Rahul. Respect.

Much as he is respected for his silence, I respect for what he does with his speeches, yeah he makes audience “Speechless”.

I quote - "When you play for 16 years, you will face highs and lows. There have been many disappointments and great highs. There is a huge sense of satisfaction that I have always given it my best shot. I have left no stone unturned in trying to become the best cricketer I can become. Absolutely no regrets."

Your stories will go as bed time tales to my kids. Who knows if you decide to relocate to Mysore, our kids could be gully cricket friends.

Thank you Dravid.

For cricket.

For passion

For perseverance

For pride.

Just as how you never stopped trying, we will never stop loving you, Jammy!! *bows*

Signing off with a lump in my throat!!!

Film: Lucky

Before I start telling you about this movie, I would like you all to know that this movie doesn’t even classify under bad movies list, actually this doesn’t even classify under “Movie” category.

This was just a mere medium for someone’s chinnu to tell the whole world that she is his wife, he is the father of her child & the movie is funded by him. To prove this an effort was made to make a “no-story” script into a movie, with horrible music, tedious narration, two stupid people acting & a worst director directing it. Only positive about this movie is the dog, which was scolded in porki language, thanks to some fool who wrote the dialogues.

Hero dresses up like (psycho Uppi in Upendra movie * 100), some weird beard style, has a really funny accent “Love ya baiiiiiiiiiibyyyyy” runs around heroine who hates people but loves only dogs, lives with her dog ZooZoo. Hero (call him Lukcy) has kanTaka from dogs so zoozoo scares him off whenever he does nauTanki with heroine. This goes on for a while, & one fine day hero’s close friend who gave food & shelter decides to leave to US. When going gets tough, hero searches job & attends interview where heroine is the head. To make sure she doesn’t reject him he changes his attire, eye-color with help of a doc, makes sure she doesn’t recognize him.

Lucky who is now Vicky proposes to heroine, but she him that she loves him for his selfless attitude but is sad that lucky is no more in her life now. Vicky is confused & says he is lucky but she does not believe him thinking just to get her he is just faking. All the attempts of Vicky to prove that he is lucky fail & he decides to go away, shows up with Lucky attire again. Now heroine says she loves Vicky & not lucky. 

*Thuuuu I almost threw my chappal to the screen*

Heroine is now crying to zoozoo telling him that she fears that if she marries lucky who was Vicky but again became lucky, she might love zoozoo less. The dog decided to get lucky back, & they unite

Songs are horrible, so is the story, so are the jokes, so is the narration. Kindly do not watch.

Click Click

 

"Hey I will stand here next to this tree"

 

"Focus me & the tree only"

 

"You have to sit down to cover the tree along"

 

"It’s been 5 seconds since I am smiling click fast"

 

Click Click

 

After yelling all the above, I run fast to see how the photo looks on the LCD display of "Point & Shoot" cam. Often the reactions are "ayyo", "Nooooo", "Wrong", "Yuck", is this how one takes photos?

 

In a trip, 90% of the photos have me in them, 5% the actual place & rest 5% other people who are in the trip. This has been often criticized, mostly by mother, who also thinks she is miss. photogenic.

 

In between all this naTka, creative within me awoke & said "have you seen world behind the lens?" Just like how Buddha was enlightened, & tada Canon 600D is mine.

 

Say congrats & be prepared with the next torture!!!

 

 

Imagine

While digging her purse for the house-key she observed that "Home Sweet Home" mat faced towards the door.

She tried opening the lock. Her trembling hands weren't helping much.

10 minutes from then, she was half lying on her bed, legs still on the ground.

She watched the ceiling fan running at the highest speed, that did not stop her sweating

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Om Sai Ram", the door bell put all my thoughts to an end. Who could it be at this time? I thought.

If its Vikram then thankfully I made home just in time.

 

"Yenamma are you not well?", asked Jalamma, neighboring aunty. Jalamma was 65yrs old, a widow who stayed alone in her house. One of her sons according to her died while serving the country in the military & the other left home 10 years back & never returned. She was healthy, but her loneliness was killing her.

 

"Im OK aunty, its just that the climate has changed all of a sudden. Would you like to have some coffee", I invited her in.

 

Aunty was the one who usually looked after our house when werent home. Not sure how a 65yr old lady could look after a house,

I mean with the kind of crimes we see on TV, she could hardly safe herself from such notorious people.

 

"No coffee ma, sit I want to talk with you. Who else do I have other than you to chat?"

 

"Yes tell me aunty how have you been?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

She still loves me. Yes, she must really love me. I could see in her eyes, somewhere far away, he was happy

Else why would she risk her "Present" & come to meet me all the way till here.

Agreed things didn't work well, but its never late. What if she wants me to be with her even now?

If that is the case my life is going to change so much, Jitesh was smiling.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Who is that boy" asked Vikram

 

"Which boy?"

 

"That boy who is with Jalamma. He looks very young to be her son"

 

"Jalamma adopted that boy. She is certain now that her son is not coming back & wanted me to help her with adoption. Our NGO helped her, & guess what, she is one happy woman now"

 

"Hello", Vikram yelled, "What is your name boy?"

 

"Jitesh", said the 10yr old boy.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

& with that she made sure that her darkest secret, "Jitesh" was hidden from rest of the world.

 

 

Gowda household: Have a name or it’s not yours

I remember granny taking me to small stainless steel selling shops that hung huge sieves outside. Initially I assumed they were badminton rackets of some kind. Granny liked utensils; she bought so many of them, I never saw her buying clothes. According to her, clothes could tear off or fade or lose color but utensils are there to stay. She sometimes traded old stuff (in kgs) to buy utensils.

I wonder how her daughter (my mother) never learnt lessons. Ma buys so many saris that these days she uses my wardrobe too. Pati gets confused that when I already have so many saris why do I still complain? Then I let him know that the smallest possible chunk of saris is mine & biggest heap is mom’s. He still puts an extra namaskara to lord that I am not like my mom.

Oops coming back to granny & her utensils, when mom got married, she hardly purchased any utensils, everything her mommy & my granny had already got. Every utensil had names written on it, with electronic metal pen. Either it had my name “Kavyashree” (not sure where this shree came up) or my maama’s name i.e. mom’s brother. Granny had two favorite people, one being her son & next me, her grand daughter.

Fights between me & sister usually took drastic ways of me snatching dining plate from her claiming it had my name & hence she cannot use them. Sometimes I even threw her lotas so that they have dents only because they had her name. She just used to shout, wasn’t physically able to take care of me, you can imagine that even in terms of gaalis I outran her, all she did was shout until mom came & threatened to kill me.

Coming back to granny “steel shop visits”, they would happen every time there was a wedding of close aides. She would usually buy a “chombu” or “pair of lotas”, if they were very close to us “2 plates” perhaps. If they formed immediate family they used to be presented with steel filters. Every item had to be marked with name “Indha - Basavegowda & family”, it used to get wrapped in pink & cream stripes wrapping paper (like phatapati chaddi format), stapled at the end & rightfully presented at the wedding to the bride or groom whoever invited us.

What an awesome way of Inventory management (as one twistedlogix said). Some say its because, any girl who comes married to a house should not proclaim that the utensils were got from her house to the in-laws. Few say when the paalu or property was divided yet families stayed together for obvious reasons, things were named so that none would get mixed up. Not sure what exactly is the fuss all about, but at the Gowda household, how important it is to have mudhe-upsaaru it is that very important to have utensils named. Have a name or it’s not yours

Anyways these days I keep over acting on my “independent” skills, which is bullshit as it is Pati who does “drop to office & pick up from office” since 1000 days (that’s right we have been married for that long & yes I am counting days). I refused to bulge on it until yesterday while I was having breakfast & the spoon had “Pati’s” name. See talk about independent life & even a spoon I use has his name.

WTH, I threw the spoon.

Oh-kids-these-days

Not sure where but 2yr old niece has learnt the word “maga”, probably from some hindi-to-kannada-horribly-translated-advertisement

Yesterday we had few dignitaries at home, one being principal of prestigious Medical College for lunch. They were all praises for 2 years old; that she is very active, brilliant & kept pinching her cheeks as often as possible. Lunch done, when they were about to take leave, the kid shouts “bye maga” to him.

Not sure if any of his students had guts to call him that & I am very sure he’ll remember this child for many more years to come.

Friday The 13th - 2

 “I told you guys. Now what do we do”, Tilak was shivering

 

“It was not our fault you idiot. That man, out of no where popped on the road. I just couldn’t control the car. & moreover studying “Signals & Systems” subject whole night had my brain fucked”, Sanjay mumbled.

 

“Lo eg yenro madodhu. What are we supposed to do? I am still young; I don’t want to go to jail. I told you all, bloody lets prepare tea at room anta where will you guys listen? That dumb vehicle had to give haath with the head lights today only? Arghhh I feel like crying man crying”, Dilip was in tears. Almost.

 

“Guys chill. It was pitch dark & I am sure that man wouldn’t have noted down the vehicle number. Also there was no one around; there is no way the police can spot us. As far as I checked the car there was no damage. Let’s watch some TBBT please”

 

Story till now

 

“No major things on spot sahebre”, replied Madevu

 

“How can you guys not find anything near the spot?”, my anger knew no bounds. It frustrates me when people cannot do their work correctly. Not doing work at all would still be a good category, but doing it in a bad way bugged me the most

 

I was on my way to the accident spot is when I saw that the man had two kids; one 10ish & the other 7ish; a boy & a girl. Too bad I thought; but destiny, who’d know the marma behind that, it shocks you more surprises you very less.

 

My driver Devappa was reading “taranga”. Oh sweet lord, what is about this guy, why does he have to read such fortnightlies? Magazines like “Sudha”, “Taranga” according to me were for three groups –

 

One - who traveled every day by bus/train, they would pick it up for time pass. This category actually never read the magazine; they flip through the photos or pictures to spend time.

 

Two – who were the adventurous “we want something new” ladies, like trying new recipe or putting a new rangoli or doing padhabandha while the chapathi got burnt.

 

Three – some one who only read “agony aunt” section, as in whose sex life is dull, what are the various problems teens have, how the widow is having an affair with a married man, yeah trust me there are people who would read only this section of the magazine.

 

Not sure what category this man whom I spend most of my day with was looking for. We reached the accident spot; the road was re-tarred recently & had no pot-holes for the 100mts stretch. I saw lot of tier marks, but the most prominent one being of a 4-wheelar probably of the hard & sudden brakes the driver had to apply.

 

“Have you taken a pic of these marks?”

 

“Hoon sahebre, clicked”, said Madevu

 

He was right, my staff. I couldn’t find anything interesting in the nearby vicinity. I walked almost 100 steps towards the main road. Still negative, nothing!

 

“B report sir, why so much trouble”, driver repeated himself.

 

I sighed. . . . .

Iron Leg

It’s all about stars. Yeah, STARS, you read correctly. Not the ones behind whom you run for an autograph or photograph & within seconds upload the pic on FB, not those stars people. Your stars, nimma nakshathra that make your raashi, kula, gothra yada yada.

 

I don’t see a point about “your day today”, that astrologer keeps saying “you will get money, you will get money” since 3 months, bleedy my bank balance is 2 digits by 5th of every month. What this astrologer failed to predict was about this shaNi of mine, one which is not hovering over my head but on my foot, I call it “meT shaNi” or the “Foot shaNi”.

 

If you know me personally, you will know how tall I am, which is why I am never permitted to wear heels. This was the first phase of the shaNi, not letting me wear what I like, high heels; due to which my wardrobe (the ones in the verandah like railway boogie) only contains flats. They are so flat that you can call me “Down to Earth” person; had the urge to call myself maNNina magaLu but no, I’d rather be my appa’s daughter only.

 

If you know me a little extra personally, you will also know how big my feet are, dad calls them “Devil’s feet”, I choose to differ, see people who were responsible to genes I am made up of have no rights to comment. & if they have to, they should comment on their gene mix-up not otherwise. Coming back, the feet are big; big as in the mid-foot is broad preventing me from wearing a certain style of footwear that involves semi-circle shaped thread that fits the mid-foot. My enquiries for footwear start from “slippers thorsi – last size”, I am lucky if I get any else life & leg have to move on, which is the next phase of the shaNi.

 

Just when I had lost hopes, shop near “Shivrampet, Mysore” or ones from “Dasara exhibition”, err basically “2 pairs for 300 bucks” types started flourishing, life was beautiful again. I was delighted with the concept, I could have as many as I wanted because they are cheap, as many colors I wanted coz they are cheap; they are stylish & again coz they are cheap. Feet were kicking only till the first incident. The shaNi kaaTa had officially started.

 

I was happily walking with my Pati who was then my fiancée & that was our first date. This is what I like, this is what I don’t like, I spoke & spoke, the man was just listening & behold slipper broke. So did my ego. I mean imagine myself chit-chatting with my to-be-husband with total class & this happens, meT shaNi was laughing at me. We had to cancel off the date, Pati says now that it was nature’s way of telling him “ee huDgi na, beDa!!!” Nonsense!

 

The saga continued. We were in Bangalore, booked tickets to “Raavan” & were late; I was running to the theatre & behold slipper cuts. No no, we did not cancel the movie, this time though I was prepared; I took Pati’s kerchief & tied around my leg & slippers like as if I was wounded. Once the movie was done, went to a slipper shop next to the theater & bought a pair. “I will wear the new ones, don’t pack”, I told the shop-keeper. He kept asking me where my old slippers were so that he will pack the same, & I ignored. He did give me weird looks when he saw me leaving the old slippers, may be he assumed his shop was a “bomb target”.

 

Anyhoo, it happened in office as well & thanks to Pav, I did not have to take leave just because of shaNi & his mischief. She had a pair in her car & the same was worn till EOD. Latest it was on the annual day, the biggest day where I had to receive award on stage, that day my slipper worth 1200 bucks had to cut? & what did I do? Sent Pati back home & to get another pair. I can imagine how MIL would have fumed that her son had to carry slippers to the daughter-in-law. & nature would have again laughed at Pati “see I told you ee huDgi beDa anta”.

 

Every one says “shaNi meTkonDide” but in my case it is “meT shaNi”. Not sure what homa or havan I’ll have to perform. But until then “Kaal”-aaya tasmai namaha.

 

 

Agni mattu maLe

I had heard a lot on how “Agni mattu maLe” as a novel by Girish Karnad is “against Indian Culture”, but had never got a chance to read it, thanks to Bahuroopi Festival at “RangayaNa” witnessed it live yesterday. It is a tale of deception and passion, very true. This was staged by naTana, under the able leadership of Mandya Ramesh. Everyone in the play is dishonest & has filthier intentions except two people in love, play has following characters

Raibhya – Old man who has two sons Puravasu & Aravasu

Raibya’s dead brother has a son – Yavakri

Vishaka – wife of Puravasu who before marriage was in love with Yavakri

Nithiley – love of Aravasu

Puravasu – Sage who is performing a yaga to get rain for the village

Demon – illegitimate son of Raibhya born out of Rakshasi mother

Play starts as someone seeking permission from “Puravasu”, to stage a play, where “Aravasu”, (one who carries the play along) wants to be a part of. Then there is a play-in-a-play concept (yes much before there was inception). Aravasu the Brahmin boy loves Nithiley the tribal girl, between the consequences of their love, Vishaka sleeps with Yuvakri (who just returned after meeting lord Indra after vigorous tapasya) found out by her father-in-law “Raibya” who gives shaapa to “Yavakri” that he will die in the hands of “Demon”.

Vishaka runs to inform Yavakri, but soon realizes that he tricked her to sleep with him just to irk his “Doddappa” & to kill him. Vishaka after knowing his misdeed spills the magical water he has to save himself from the demon & thus demon kills Yavakri. Aravasu is entrusted the task to provide final rights to Yavakri due to which he misses his chance to meet Nithiley’s father in time to seek her hand for marriage. She is now someone else’s fiancée.

Puravasu who is performing a yaga since 7 years for rain comes home after hearing his wife’s affair, when she confronts to him that her father-in-law is targeting her for his wrong intentions, he kills his dad. He asks Aravasu to do the final rights as he has to get back to the yaga.

Few days later when Aravasu visits the yaga, Puravasu tells everyone that Aravasu killed his father & makes sure his brother is beaten to death by the villagers. But he is rescued by Nithiley who has run from home to be with Aravasu. Aravasu’s only hope being Nithiley is also killed, by her husband for leaving him, & just when world comes crashing down on Aravasu, Indra arrives & says he will grant a boon. Aravasu is torn between asking Nithiley’s life or Demon’s moksha, but finally chooses the later. The play ends with villagers dancing to the rain.

I fell in love with “Aravasu”, both the character & the person who portrayed that character. The play lasted for 2.5hrs never losing its charm or boring the audience. Vanaranga is an open-air stage, but none cared the cold temperature. Its astonishing how none of these characters every made a slightest slippage, in terms of dialogues or flow of events in spite of being in different occupations all of them pursue their passion of theatre. 

Bahuroopi National theater festival is held in "Rangayana" for a week long, & the tickets are very reasonable too. Do make a visit if you are a movie enthusiast, none of the plays will disappoint.