சென்னையில் பெய்த மழை

வருடிச் சென்ற குளிர்காற்று

வானம் வாழ்த்திய நல்மழை 

முகமெல்லாம் முத்தமிட்ட மழைச்சாரல் 

மனதெல்லாம் புரண்டோடிய உன் நினைவுகள்..................!

A humble message to parents

His eyes were still trying to get used to the light in the world. He gave a tiny squeak and closed his eyes resigning into what he would be deprived of in all his life, sleep. Oblivious to the stare from the elders, the gold chain adorning his delicate neck and all the celebration around him he continued to sleep. It is not every other day that a new member joins the family. As he slept, the mother looked at him with all her love and said “Look, Krishna has come home!” Every neighbour and relative, some long lost and almost forgotten, visited the parents and unanimously seemed to agree with the mom; and there starts the journey of the little one.

On the first Krishna Jayanthi after the child started walking, the poor feet were dipped in rice-flour-paint. The little one finished the daunting task (for the mother of course) of drawing “Krishna feet” in almost 2 minutes. The impression of the feet on the floor, however distorted due to the uneven walk of the little one, looked beautiful to the parents. He was dressed like Krishna and from somewhere in the neighbourhood, the mom found a gopika and photos were taken with the innocent kid holding the flute wondering if he should hit someone with it and the gopika giving expressions of blushing. Again, completely oblivious to what was happening around! Everyone who saw the photograph said that it was cute.

Then the kid grew up to become a teenager. He got himself a mobile phone. He started having night outs, night studies and of course, exchanged numbers with people of opposite gender strictly for educational purposes; girls are good at having log of the deadlines, being attentive in the class and stuff like that. But somewhere around this time, all of a sudden someone removed the Krishna out of him. He ceased being Krishna and got demoted to a human – a normal male teenager, when in reality this was time when he actually started being Krishna! The same mother who said “Krishna has come” now goes to his dad with complaints like “its 11.30 in the night and he is speaking to someone in the phone. I am sure it is a girl.” “That day I saw our boy with that girl in his bike.” “Our son is exchanging looks with the girl next door and she is giving him blushing looks.”

At this point of the journey, we stop for a moment and think. You know mom, this is not fair. I think you have a little confusion between Krishna and Ram. You were the one who told me the stories of Ramayana and Mahabharata; you ought to know better than me in this regard. Ram is supposed to be the Maryaadha Purushotham. Not Krishna. You can be a little more generous in the “numbers” with Krishna. Now conveniently, Krishna becomes famous for his Bhagavat gita. Moms have this little habit of reporting incidents of Krishna’s childhood and directly fast-forwarding the story to Bhagavat Gita! Krishna never had an adolescence or what? If it had not been for television and books, your adolescent boy would ask “Raslila? What Raslila?”

Whatever…! I just have a message to say to all the parents. Next time you see your dear boy flirting/dating, bring the above picture to your mind and feel happy that in the real picture in front of your eyes, there are not so many girls.

And if you do see so many girls, feel proud that your boy has at last become Krishna all by himself! Not many guys get to be in the place of your son! :)

கல்லூரி நாட்கள் - Getting Nostalgic

சொல்லி சொல்லி கொடுத்த பின்பும் புயலவில்லை நூலறிவு
சொல்லாமல் வந்தது இந்த நட்பு என்னும் பொன்னுறவு

அழிவு பாதை செல்லினும் கை கோர்த்து நடந்தோம்
அச்சுறுத்தும் தேர்வுகளிலும் சிரித்து சிரித்து மகிழ்ந்தோம்

சோலையில் பூக்கும் பூக்கள் போல் சிறகடித்து பறக்கும் பறவைகள் போல்
சிதறி கிடக்கும் விண்மீன் போல் இனிமையானதோர் கூட்டம்

கூடத்தில் ஒரு எட்டப்பன் இருந்தாலும் அவனையும் வெறுத்ததில்லை
கூடி இருக்கையில் இளிச்சவாயனையும் விட்டுக் கொடுத்ததில்லை

அன்று சிரித்து சிரித்து களித்து திரிந்த நினைவுகள் கோடி
அதை ரசித்து விழுந்த கண்ணீரை இன்று கண்கள் மறைக்கும் மூடி

"இதோ இங்கு தான்" என்ற கதை கூறும் இடங்கள் ஓர் ஆயிரம்
"அன்று தான்" என்று சலித்து கொள்ளும் நாட்களும் ஆயிரம்

வேதனைகள் வந்தாலும் தீயதொன்று நினைத்ததில்லை
வானர படை என்றாலும் வன்முறை வழி கண்டதில்லை

கண் மூடி திறக்கும் முன் ஓடியது இந்த நான்காண்டு காவியம்
காலம் பல கடந்தாலும் அழியாது இந்த ஓவியம்

முன்னொரு நாள் "என் பெயர்" என்று தொடங்கிய நம் பேச்சு
மூன்றாம் வீட்டு கதை வரை பேசிய காலமும் கடந்தாச்சு

பல ஆண்டுகள் நகரும்; காலங்கள் மாறும்; கல்லுரி கூட்டம் ஒன்று பார்க்க நேரும்
புன்னகை ஒன்று மலரும், சிந்தனை அலைகளில் நெஞ்சமெனும் தோணி மிதக்கும்

கனத்த மூச்சு ஒன்று காற்றோடு கலக்கும், தூங்கிய நினைவுகள் சோம்பல் முறிக்கும்
கண்முன்னே அந்த நாட்களின் நிழற்படம் இன்னொரு முறை ஓடி சிரிக்கும்

Starved student and a dedicated professor

It was yet another boring session for Raman. He was literally tired of sending out sms, passing chits and even yawning. He did not even bother to listen to any of what he was being taught. “I must never become a professor” he thought as he saw the muted film that he was witnessing in his classroom. All he could think of was “How can someone be so devotedly, consistently boring for almost a semester”. He wouldn’t have minded these lectures had the professor not been over-shooting on his time, his lunch time. The time was 12.40. The class must have been over ten minutes earlier. He could only think of Ramya’s poori and Kalpana’s Pulav. “Two pooris must have reached my stomach now. I won’t get more.” He thought and text-ed “Have you brought lunch?” to Rajiv, Suresh and Mohan expecting a “no”, but gravely wishing “yes buddy, you take the poori and pulav”. Who was he kidding! “Five minutes from now the attack on the pulav would’ve begun.” To make matters worse his breakfast had been just a cup of milk from the canteen. A milk rich, not in protein or calcium, but in water! Involuntarily he started salivating and there was a giant rumble from his stomach. “Wait buddy! Lunch is on its way” he said to his stomach.

There was this mental picture of poori and pulav and somewhere within the depths of his stomach, yet another time pepsinogen took the well known path to the stomach. Coming out of the cell, it came down to the stomach and was surprised to see it empty. It searched for anyone familiar and found a few lipases. It waved a ‘hi’. Lipase smiled back.

“Hi then, How are you? I guess I was sent out too early.” said the pepsinogen.

“Dude I was sent from the pancreas. I guess it must’ve been one of those food thinking sessions of Raman. Anyways how’s the day going?” asked the lipase.

“Pretty well, I guess you did not have much work from morning. I was sent out in the morning expecting some work. But I guess Raman had one of those canteen milks. I did not have much to do.”

“Oh yeah! I saw you trying to work a little bit. My colleagues who came in the morning had to be sent out too, since there was nothing in our area of expertise.”

“Yup! This happens quite often these days and let me tell you dude, this is not doing any good to us and Raman. But then, we are not supposed to be sent “expecting” something, we are to be sent sensing something!”

From the ceiling of the stomach, there was a big turbulence. It seemed like the esophageal opening would give way anytime now to something, some food. Involuntarily, pepsinogen and lipase exchanged expectant looks at each other and shifted their gaze upwards towards the esophageal opening!

Merrily skating its way down ad laughing, out jumped the trio, mucin, amylase and lysozyme of the oral cavity.

“….and he could not stand for a moment in front of me! One swift fling through the air and the bacteria fell down all dead and lifeless! I almost hit the mouth wall with my sword, thankfully it did not happen” lysozyme had just finished flaunting one of his adventures.

“Dead and lifeless are the same, dude. This is called boasting and you could start with not talking too much about yourself to control it.” said amylase

“Well you are just jealous, You don’t have as much a heroic job as me! What would this system be without me. The mouth giving free entry passes to everything on earth.” He lowered his voice a bit. “Sometimes I’ve even seen amylases, mucins and even lysozyme of a completely different gene composition.” He lowered his voice further. "They say Raman is to be blamed for all these entry. You know…” and gave a sly smile and winked. “Anyway” he continued in his usual pompous tone “you don’t have idea what I have to deal with everyday!”

“Deal with? You know what it is to break a fatty acid with my hammer and dagger?” charged amylase

“Shut up! will you, guys? We have been summoned and none of us have work! Do you even bother to enquire?” Said mucin trying to bring things back on track.

“Its nice to see that atleast one of you have sense. So wat’s the plan? Are we expecting something?”

As lipase was saying this, there was a mild disturbance on the stomach walls and immediately everyone knew what was coming next. This movement on the stomach wall was typical of the arrival of the dreaded hydrochloric acid (HCl).

From the sides of the wall, the most feared HCl came to the stomach and slowly increased in its volume. “What’s happening here?” it roared and without giving time to prepare, whooshed towards the pepsinogen and converted it to pepsin before even it could shout “No food Ma’am, please wait”.

There was mayhem in the stomach and other enzymes ran haphazardly in all directions. The irritated enzymes took out their weapons they used to break the food and started hitting against the walls of the stomach. Hell was set loose and as a result, the stomach shook heavily, unable to bear the chaos.

………………….there was a giant rumble from his (Raman’s) stomach. “Wait buddy! Lunch is on its way” he said to his stomach.

His vision, almost blurry by now, sensed the professor looking at his watch and exclaiming something. He heard words like “doubts, next, see you.” There was a sudden increase in the level of noise in the class. His hands automatically reached for Ramya’s lunch box hidden under the table. One poori went inside the mouth, another one was safe in his hands; two more hands plunged into the box; damn this Suresh and Rajiv. The sensory organs started working again!

Deep within the stomach, among the tumultuous uproar of a dozen enzymes, there were wild exclamations of “Work time buddies!”

Mobile talks and lies

Mobile phones are everywhere. You are in a bus and suddenly you hear “enna da maaplai”. You think of all the affairs you’ve ever had since you started being on your own and turn around, only to find that some joker is talking to his friend in his mobile. What a relief! One can’t express it. Really! You need to be there. There are times when we hear people talking with the Bluetooth headset on. What a pity! Getting people’s stare in one issue there; but people getting genuinely concerned over the mental health of the Bluetooth guy is entirely different. Are they even aware that the people standing around are actually holding their urge to call a mental asylum, at bay? Let the divine force be with thee! There are other extreme cases where area names get changed. The other day, a co-passenger was telling “Yes machi, I am in CIT Nagar.”

I looked outside and started wondering if sterling road had come to be known as T. Nagar. What more? His “machi” is waiting in Saidapet. At least tell a decent lie dude! Any moment now he is going to know that, wherever you are, you are definitely not in CIT Nagar. The “machi” called again in 10 minutes (I can see Valluvar Kottam now) and had apparently found out that his friend is lying (Who wouldn’t? Get trained to lie, friend). Our friend goes something like this

“Machi, Nejama da.. Traffic da” (Really man, There is heavy traffic here)

Silence

“Idho Hundai showroom kooda irukku” (I can see the Hundai showroom)

Now here comes the thing of traffic. Whatever you do that results in delay, you can blame it on traffic (well not “whatever” literally, but many thing, yes, traffic comes handy big time). Here are the common traffic points that people usually say. Anna arch, Nelson Manikkam road, guindy, thirumangalam, CIT nagar (genuinely yes, our friend has a point!). But now with CMRL (Chennai Metro Rail Limited) occupying beastly volumes of spaces on arterial roads, you can blame it on traffic without a second thought!

Fifteen minutes later his phone rings again and our friend fails to pick up the call. He knows what he is about to hear. Look at the understanding! “Nanben da..” ;)

T. Nagar signal shows red and I get down and get walking to the bus terminus. My phone rings now.

Mom - “Enga da irukkae? En late?” (Where are you, Why are you late?)

Me - “Amma.. sterling road la traffic ma”

Did I miss Sterling road in the list?! Well, you can add it!

“Nejamave. Ippo than bus guindy-la irrukku. Inga kooda sema traffic.” (I am not lying, I am still held up in the traffic in Guindy!)

And the story goes on…….

In my right senses...

Recently, on a single day, two incidents happened, that could largely suggest that I’ve gone out of my senses. I don’t know if it is entirely my fault in these incidents. By making this public I intend to say that I am perfectly alright and well oriented! Description is mine; interpretation is choice.

Incident 1:

Getting ten people together is very difficult than setting them up on individual dates according to their taste! Trust me. All the colleagues of our lab had planned to go out for a dinner for the New Year (which was three months before, by the way). After three months of clashing dates, we finally landed up on some Wednesday. Apparently it got postponed too! We were planning to go on Thursday (the next day). I communicated this to one of my female colleagues and here is the conversation.

Me - “Hey, I don’t think we can go out on Wednesday, someone has got work”

She – “Oh that’s bad.. So when are we going?”

“I just thought we can go out on Thursday”

“Okay. I don’t have a problem.”

Wicked! I changed my mind. Let me see what she says. I would love to see the bewildered reaction on her face when she hears me!

“Hey I mean not the others.. only you and me. Can we go for dinner on Thursday?”

A happy sun rising, a garden of flowers unfolding, a thousand birds chirping, a million bells ringing, flying high high high in the air for the supposed “date” – not so fast buddy! On hearing the reply, someone was really bewildered. I suppose I must’ve had a mirror to see that person.

What I got as reply was not surprise, anger, confusion or happiness (okay the last one is too far!). It was humour! She laughed like I had just cracked the best joke of an entire lifetime. And what still baffles me is the reaction time! It was almost an entirely involuntary, heartfelt laughter.

Well I emptied the place as an emergency effect and before I went to my seat, people were talking about “Siddhart’s asking out mishap”. News travels faster than people. Thanks!

Incident 2:

After a serious debate like discussion on the differences between machines that can virtually see (as “see” in humans) and the eyes that can actually see, I came about to drink water. I was re-doing the highlights of the conversation in my mind and involuntarily started making animated gestures in the air.

The visual system has photon detector (both fists in the air, thumbs facing me), the neurons carry the impulses to the brain (hand moves towards me) and based on some synchronized activation of various cells (hand waving in the air), we reconstruct the images. In a virtual seeing scenario, the images are detected by detectors (both fists in the air, thumb end facing me) and the images are compared to an existing database (left palm stretched out, placing right palm over the left and removing as in “not matching…, next one pls; not matching…, next one pls”) where there is some kind of a template matching and the best fit is given as result. While seeing new things new information is added to both the databases (nodding head, as if I am agreeing to myself). But the catch lies in fool proofing the system (pointing finger in air, as when giving strict instructions). While the visual system is beautifully fool proofed (brows curved in, as in thinking) the machines cannot have the intelligence to match a horribly distorted face/object to the perfection that its database has. (Hands move in the air as in “there you go, gotcha!”)

Now do all this without reading the ones in italics. A student caught me doing exactly that, near the water cooler. She was decent enough to hide any expression she was ready to show in her face and walked off. I started walking towards the library, this time without any animations in me.

“She must’ve thought I am insane”

“No, I am not insane”

“I am perfectly well”

“I am perfectly sane”

“All is well with me”

Oh god! I forgot to italicize the last three lines; and so exactly I forgot to talk in mind. I was saying this aloud, not audible enough, but mumbling! I frantically looked around and noticed another student walking towards me. I smiled. She smiled back. Damn. Damn. Damn.

But actually this is funny, isn’t it?! Doing random actions in air, talking to oneself, students thinking I am getting weird...

I started smiling to myself and opened the library door. Do I need to say that people saw me smiling to myself? Well the library was packed and I opened the door so loudly (not expecting to see people at the neck of closing hours), that almost everyone saw me smiling to myself.

Effectively, a girl laughed when I asked her out, people saw me doing animations to no one, talking to myself, laughing with imaginary friends! Should I prove them that I am still sane? Whaaaaaaaaaa! Big deal! Well, that’s mind voice again. :)

What a poetry!

Recently I came across this following song of Mahakavi Bharathiyar where he praises Lord Murugan in his own way. Never mind the language if it is too difficult, you can get a picture of what the poet wants to say.

வில்லினை ஒத்த புருவம் வளைத்தனை வேலவா! - அங்கோர்
வெற்பு நொறுங்கிப் பொடிப் பொடியானது வேலவா!
சொல்லினைத் தேனில் குழைத்து உரைப்பாள் சிறு வள்ளியைக் - கண்டு
சொக்கி மரமென நின்றனை தென்மலைக் காட்டிலே

கல்லினை யொத்த வலிய மனங்கொண்ட பாதகன் - சிங்கன்
கண்ணிரண்டு ஆயிரங் காக்கைக்கு இரையிட்ட வேலவா!
பல்லினைக் காட்டிவெண் முத்தைப் பழித்திடும் வள்ளியை - ஒரு
பார்ப்பனக் கோலம் தரித்துக் கரந்தொட்ட வேலவா!

வெள்ளலைக் கைகளைக் கொட்டி முழங்கும் கடலினை - உடல்
வெம்பி மறுகிக் கருகிப் புகைய வெருட்டினாய்.
கிள்ளை மொழிச்சிறு வள்ளியெனும் பெயர்ச் செல்வத்தை - என்றும்
கேடற்ற வாழ்வினை, இன்ப விளக்கை மருவினாய்.

கொள்ளை கொண்டே அமராவதி வாழ்வு குலைத்தவன் - பானு
கோபன் தலைபத்துக் கோடி துணுக்குறக் கோபித்தாய்
துள்ளிக் குலாவித் திரியுஞ் சிறு வன மானைப்போல் - தினைத்
தோட்டத்தி லேயொரு பெண்ணை மணங்கொண்ட வேலவா!

In one of his marvellous poems Bharathi vividly describes two extreme kinds of emotions in alternate lines. While the first two lines describe the courage of Muruga, the warrior, commander, fighter, the next two lines completely catch us off guard by telling about Muruga, the lover-boy who desperately tries to woo his love. Again in the next two lines Murugan’s valour is described as he unleashes his aggression in front of Surapadman, the demon who causes havoc in earth. The next two lines again describe the naughty, prankster who flirts with Valli in the mountain forests. As you travel through the poet and visualise the imageries of the poem, you are caught between two radically opposite feelings - the one of aggression/violence and the one of romance/love. This vaguely reminds me of the “Adhiradi” song from Sivaji when in one frame of the song, Rajni has Shriya in one of his arms and in the next frames takes a guitar case to shoot the enemies! Now, that brings splendid portrayal of heroism into the picture. What heroism Shankar achieved with all the grand set, Rajni’s presence, Shriya’s glamour and Rahman’s music, this poet communicated exactly the same heroism, with his pen and imagination. The beauty does not lie in the description of the complex scenes of war or in the mild scenes of romance – this anyone who calls himself a poet would be able to achieve. The real beauty lies in the poet’s choice of placing the episodes in expert amalgamation! Had the first stanza praised Murugan as warrior and the second Murugan in romance, the impact would have been different altogether probably. Literary experts might (if at all) give a name to this kind of poetry rendition; but as layman, without any knowledge of literature, the effect of such a poetry is simply great. Under what genre would you place this? Romance? War? Herioism? Bhakthi? There could be only one genre for this and that is “poetry”!