Monday, November 20, 2006

Sringaram – Dance of Love.

Its been ages since I've seen a good Tamil Movie...
Sringaram made my wait worth it! :)

Sringaram – Dance of Love.

Sringaram, a riot of emotions, dance, music, and costumes so earthy in portrayal, its cinema rediscovered in a trance. I was one of the few lucky people who witnessed this cinematic masterpiece at The Indo-German film Festival, yesterday, and I'm still recovering.

The film is a compelling narrative that exemplifies the essence of womanhood, and feminism. Set in the awakening of the Freedom Struggle, in rural Tamilnadu, the film portrays the life of Madhura (Aditi Rao Hydari), a Devadasi as she struggles with the conflicting passions for her art and the heritage and tradition she now represents as the temple's principal dancer. The narrative includes space for the lives of many other women, Kamavalli (Hamsa Moily), Ponnammal (Manju Bhargavi), The Mirasu's Wife (Aishwarya) and Ambujam (Lakshmi Ravi), who perfectly represent women in the different roles they played in Tamil Society at that time. The films oscillates from being a strong feminine narrative expressed through dance to a period film so well-researched, that Mahadevapuram, comes to life in those well-spent 117 minutes.

Filled with brilliant dance pieces that have an unignorable Devadasinatyam / Sadira style of choreography by Saroj Khan and music by Padma Bhushan Lalgudi G Jayaraman, featuring several classical renditions by Bombay Jayashree, the film rises beyond the spectacular, and leaves you pining for more.

It's no surprise that this movie is the firsts for several people including Padma Bhushan Lalgudi G Jayaraman, Saroj Khan in Tamil, and Sharada Ramanathan, as a director. Aditi Rao Hydari and Hamsa Moily also make their first appearances in this film.

So, if you're in the mood for a two hour journey filled with dance, music, and art, as has never been portrayed before, watch the film when it hopefully releases in Jan-Feb 2007, and indulge in this gentle exploration of love, dance and music in all its possible hues.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

My review of Monster House:

MONSTER HOUSE, There Goes the Neighbourhood.

Directed by: Gil Kenan
Cast: Mitchel Musso (DJ), Sam Lerner (Chowder), Spencer Locke (Jenny), Steve Buscemi (Nebbercracker), Maggie Gyllenhaal (Zee), and Jason Lee (Bones).

Fluke Spook

Little Girl: Hello Fence!”

If animated movies were getting just too animated for you, thank god for Monster House. This 91-minute take on an urban Halloween legend, is loads of fun to watch. The story is simple. DJ (Mitchel Musso) is a kid who lives across the street from a spooky house, owned by a spookier neighbour, Mr. Nebbercracker (Steve Buscemi, ‘Tony Blundetto-Sopranos’). Mr. Nebbercracker has a secret he doesn’t want to share. No one’s allowed onto his property. DJ and his friend Chowder (Sam Lerner) get them selves into serious trouble with Mr. Spooky Neighbour. They end up investigating the haunted house, with Jenny (Spencer Locke), the crush at the moment, and the non-stop spooks keep getting better. A haunted house, three inquisitive kids, several unbelieving adults, and two outrageously stupid neighbourhood cops, what more could you ask for in a Halloween movie. The movie outdoes most of the other ‘real’ horror films we’ve seen recently. It actually keeps you interested. Watch out for the simply adorable Chowder, trying to be all ‘man’ with Jenny, and really bizarre characters like Bones (Jason Lee), and Reginald Skulinski (Jon Heder). The movie scores on the animated characters looking almost alive; all thanks to 3D motion capture technique. What really makes the movie click however, is the innocence that animated movies lost long ago. If you’re in for a total weekend entertainer, about a house that ‘mocks you with its houseness’, Monster House is your perfect family treat.

PS. Keep really small kids at home, it is scary!

Published on 4th Nov, Page 10, MiDDAY Bangalore.

CID Prakash... Code 999!

My review of Dr. Rajkumars 'Operation Diamond Racket':

“ If you come today, it is to early…
If you come tomorrow, it is too late.
You pick the time…
Tic, Tic, Tic… ”

Who in Bangalore doesn’t know these lines from ‘Annavaru’s’ 1978 hit ‘Operation Diamond Racket’, the hatrick performance of Dr. Rajkumar as Prakash, Code: CID 999.
I was one of the privileged few who watched the movie at INOX, on Thursday, at a screening celebrating Suvarna Karnataka.
Operation Diamond Racket is a pure entertainer from shot one. The few of us, who did get to see the film on the big screen, were in splits all through. Be it, Dr.Rajkumar’s slurry accent, with his famous ‘Dorrling’, and Kannada one-liners that can drive even Rajnikant up the wall, or the awesome graphics, The movie keeps you waiting for more ‘Rajkumar Magic’ to unravel with each passing minute.
The story line is simple, undercover cop Prakash (aka Vijay), CID 999, has set out from Namma Bengalooru to foil the attempts of a major baddie, all bent on taking over the world. The story moves from our city, to Cochin, and finally climaxes in Nepal.
On the journey our ‘gentleman’ cop, flirts with several beauties, to get information about the Baddies. He swings with Lolita on one hand, and plays with Jennifer on the other. At the end of the spy saga, however his love is true only for Meena, his co-undercover agent.
He refuses to get intimate with her, though and says ‘that’s not what a true cop would do’ (Lesson in manners to James Bond 007!).
Apart from some really good cabaret performances, in several clubs all across Bangalore and Cochin, the film stands out for some brilliant scenes, such as a boat chase in Cochin, and several Car chases in Nepal. Considering ‘Don’, with Amitabh Bachchan was made in the same year, ‘CID 999’, beats ‘Vijay’ in every field of filmmaking. Technically the film does wonders for the time at which it was made. The graphics are futuristic, and the sets, very believable.
The soundtrack has one killer, as we all know, and the rest of the songs are quite good too. A romantic song shot outdoors in Nepal, however left me bewildered. I was left wondering why Meena had to breathe so heavily after every line that Prakash sang.
What caught my attention however was the use of several Nepali Characters in the film, with really freaky sounding names. We had, Nenzing (?), Prakash’s friend from Nepal, who trained with Prakash in Bangalore, and thus spoke Kannada. We also had Dringku, who graduated from Mount Carmel College, and thus knew Kannada too; she however worked for the Baddies. Doma, an obviously Nepali looking Character, was another weird character. She was supposed to be from Singapore (?). She was also a Baddie, and kidnapped Meena later. The conversations in Hindi between Meena and Doma are worth mention. I just died laughing. I also made an observation that all the baddies knew Kannada, and somewhere during the movie, I was completely convinced, that Kannada was the second language in Nepal.
The movie was made to entertain, and it still manages to do exactly that, and even more. So, if you are in the mood for a perfect Sunday afternoon treat, loaded with one-liners in Kannada that can make you travel in time, and songs that are just pure trip-paradise, Operation Diamond Racket is your next VCD to rent.

Operation Diamond Racket (1978)
Produced by:
Anupam Movies,
Directed by: Bhagwan Dorairaj.
Co-Stars: Padmapriya, Vajramuni
Lyrics: Chi. Udayashankar,
Music: GK Venkatesh

Part of a Trilogy, with Dr. Rajkumar as Prakash, Code: CID 999
1) Goa-dalli CID 999 (1968) Opposite, Lakshmi.
2) Operation Jackpot-nalli CID 999 (1969) Opposite, Udayachandrika.
3) Operation Diamond Racket (1978), Opposite, Padmapriya.

Shared his undercover name Vijay with Amitabh Bachchan in Don, aka Vijay, In ‘Don’, released in the same year.

Published November 4th, Page 2, MiDDAY, Bangalore.

Dead (story) Line!

My review of:

DEADLINE, Sirf 24 Ghante.
Director: Tanveer KhanStar Cast:Konkana Sen SharmaIrfan KhanRajit KapoorSandhya MridulZakir HussainPrincey 'Jhanak' Shukla

** (2 Stars)

Dead (story) line.

If you expected anything from this film, you’ll be thoroughly sorry you ever did. Deadline, Sirf 24 Ghante, fails to do anything its trailer so thrillingly promises. What’s worse is to see someone as brilliant as Konkona Sen Sharma being utterly wasted as an actor. She has her moments, and gives quite a performance, but the real show stealer here is Sandhya Mridul. This pretty woman gives you one more genuine performance, something she’s earned a name for in the last few months.
The story is well conceptualized, but its making is terrible. Tanveer Khan should not experiment with writing his screenplays ever again. The dialogues remind one of an 80’s film, minus a scriptwriter.
Krish (Irfan Khan) and Roohi (Sandhya Mridul), lose their son, to a complicated heart problem, because they fail to pay the hospital on time. Held responsible is Dr. Viren Goenka (Rajit Kapoor), who they decide, needs to respect the value of a life in his profession. What ensues is a kidnapping of Dr. Viren’s daughter Anishka (Princey Shukla), and Sanjana (Konkona Sen Sharma) his wife being held hostage at home. The doctor is asked to pay a ransom within a 24-hour deadline.
The film resembles Sanjay Dutt starrer Tathastu, and Hollywood hit John Q. The only difference being Irfan Khan, and his stereotyped role. Give the man a chance and let him act for once. The first half moves so slowly, Sirf 24 Ghante seemed like am mean joke. The second half is where the thrill kicks in, but then the story moves like fairy tale, nothing is unexpected. The film is saved by Kabir (Zakir Hussain) playing the role of Viren’s friend, who is a joy to watch. Unlike most child artists, Anishka fails to do a convincing job. A scene involving a maa-beti separation actually looked funny.
I wont vouch for the film, unless there’s nothing else playing. But make sure you buy tickets for any irresponsible doctor you know; the film has a message for all of them - Medicine is a noble profession, for a reason.

Published on Saturday, Nov 11, Page 10, MiDDAY, Bangalore.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

This or That or somewhere inbetween...

Do you watch Will&Grace? (Yupp, the very show on Zee Café)
Don’t you ever wish you were in the place of Will or Grace, for the open relationship they share? (and I mean relationship… not coz they’re really HOT)
And do you totally adore Jack and wish you were in a relationship exactly like that...? (What a Darling...! I agree perfect Boyfriend material huh?)

If you do then you need to read on…If you don’t,
Read on just the same…
(Thought you could escape that easily huh?!)
I’m sure you’ll benefit from this mediocre attempt at understanding people and the choices they make (Ahem! Well said!)

The Human Race has always been obsessed with its sexuality (Like you didn’t know, rascal!). And even though we’ve all passed through phases of sexuality being a taboo in each of our societies (Boring!), it still remains one of the most intriguing topics in most discussions (How we LOVE to talk about it!).

Everything the human has learnt to believe in has been in the form of pairs (Worry not; it’s not all that terrible a calculation!). We’ve always believed in opposites co-existing with each other, to form everything we know and believe to exist (Antonyms anyone?!).
The Chinese believed in Yin and Yang, Modern Physicists believe in Matter and Anti-matter, and everyone else believes in Good and Evil (Makes sense?).
Civilization thus decided on The Male and The Female as the ultimate partners, in this very pattern of the opposing duality (Yes, I love techie terms!). Biologically this was apt with the differences they had. Physiologically their structures also seemed to be made almost perfectly for each other (Ahem!).
Thus over time and the development of society, the relationship was rigidified (Darn rules!). The Man became the only partner for The Woman and vice versa (or Heterosexuality). However all through the history of man there have been accounts of people with slight ‘left tendencies’ (Kinky huh?). These people co-existed with the rest of the population but never became strong enough in number to demand their rights.
Many societies then, had rampant alternative sexualities being practiced. Ancient Chinese and Indians for that matter had alternative sexual systems being practiced and being accepted (We ROCKED then!). Ancient Greeks used alternative sexualities, like Homosexual relations between men as a base to their otherwise normal sexual practices. Young boys were always asked to practice the sexual act with boys of their own age before they got into a relationship with a girl, as a precaution against otherwise not being able to please her (Lucky Women!).
Today, such practices are still being practiced by smaller cultural groups such as ‘The Sambians’ of New Guinea, who practice Homosexuality till their late adolescence, after which they turn completely ‘Heterosexual’ (Interesting?).

Sexuality has always been a matter of choice, and it’s the choice you make that defines your sexuality (Simple!). The choices you make are called your orientations, and several psychologists have tried defining the possible orientations that people might possess.

Alfred Kinsley a leading psychologist in the early 1940’s prepared a seven point scale, where after answering a questionnaire; scores were plotted on a number line. Those who scored at 0 were exclusively heterosexual and those scoring 6 were exclusively homosexual. Those who fell in between were bisexuals of varying degrees. (Not all that complex, come on read it again!)

If you were wondering what you are in terms of your orientations, read on to figure out where you might probably stand (And keep those fingers crossed!)…

If …

1) You are turned on by a member of your opposite sex, and do not seem to be turned on by members of your own sex…
YOU’RE HETEROSEXUAL, AND JUST THAT! (God! You’re such a Bore! Just Kidding!)

2) You are turned on by members of your own sex, and don’t seem to find the opposite sex in the least bit interesting…
YOU’RE HOMOSEXUAL DARLIN’! (Interesting you are!)

3) You are turned on by members of your own sex and members of the other sex also, and can’t seem to decide which one your more turned on by…
YOU’RE BISEXUAL BABY! (The confusion makes it all the better!)

However things might not be as simple as they seem especially if you’re Bisexual or Homosexual… (Now this is serious stuff so PAY ATTENTION!)…
Heterosexuals have already been rigidified by the conventional roles they ought to play in a society and thus they are left with a very little choice when it comes to their orientations. Bisexuals and Homosexuals on the other hand are lighter and less rigid in terms of the roles they play and thus can often be confused with one another.

The Homosexual or The Gay (Male) or The Lesbian (Female), is a very debatable orientation. Purists will claim only half of the people who claim to be Homosexual actually are. The ‘True’ homosexual is a person who loves his partner (of the same sex) and thus may/might not indulge in a sexual relationship with him. Love seems to be the only binding force to most ‘Purist’ homosexuals.
On the other hand we have the other ‘popular’ Homosexual, who usually is just interested in sexual relations with members of his/her sex, or just wants to try out something different or apparently safer for ‘fun’. Most Homosexuals fall under this category, and thus are often considered to be Bisexually oriented in reality.

The Bisexual on the other hand is the confused soul (most of us are!), who can’t seem to decide which is better for him/her. A bisexual is typically oriented towards both sexes, but at varying individual levels. A ‘True’ bisexual is one who indulges in relationships with both sexes again out of reasons other than ‘fun’. Love, friendship, and loads of other defining factors are usually the bases to such relationships.
‘Fake’ bisexuals are usually Homosexuals or Heterosexuals, who seem to be interested in such relationships out of pure sexual curiosity. This however is also a ‘Purist’ view.

Scientists have been trying to study the causes of our Sexual Orientations for ages now. One of the earliest theories was put forward by Sigmund Freud. (This is NOT boring believe me… Read on!)…

He claimed that individuals developed Alternative sexualities due to the identification with the same sex parent. He however was one of the few psychologists to consider even ‘Heterosexuality’ to be an alternative behaviour, as he believed such behaviour was not based upon any attraction that was of Chemical nature.

Some other researchers such as A P Bell and his friends decided that it was the non-conformity of a child to his/her own specific gender role in childhood that brought about alternative sexualities. Daryl J Bem more recently added to the above theory saying, a child thus growing up on a non-conforming gender role, will associate, himself/herself, with the opposite sex, and thus be attracted to his/her own sex eventually. He called it the Exotic-becomes-Erotic theory (Brilliant huh!).

Researches in other fields have also tried answering the questions about these ‘deviant’ orientations. Hamer and Hu and their co-researchers, gave evidence of the presence of a piece of X chromosome, Xq28, that seemed to be present in the DNA of most Homosexual men, while LeVay showed that the hypothalamus, in the brain contained a nucleus (a lump of related cells) that was bigger in Heterosexual men, but smaller in Homosexual men and Women (Now you know why your heads smaller…! lol!).

These theories however seem relatively biased because they treat alternative sexualities, like an abnormality (which IT IS NOT!).
Today societies in most parts of the world have accepted these alternative orientations, and accepted them as normal.
The world has come to a stage when, being Bisexual is considered to be ‘in’, and being boringly Heterosexual is considered to be ‘very out’.
India is not far behind with Homosexuals out in public now; the country can also claim to have the largest active ‘Gay’ population, if their presence on the internet is to be believed (Did I see the eyelash flutter?... Yupp its official!).

So don’t be ashamed if you’ve found out that you seem to have an alternative orientation. It’s what defines you, and ignoring it now, will only spell out problems in your future relationship based life. Experiment if you need to, but remember to respect the other individual’s decisions while doing so. An alternative relationship can prove to be really helpful, especially because, nobody can understand you better than one of your own.

Know who you are…
and Be whom you’re meant to be
(All the best discovering yourselves darlings… muah!)

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Who are WE again?

“Why is it that south Indian films never had a presence at the IIFA awards that are supposed to be about the India International brand, when most watchable Hindi films are remakes of Tamil, Telegu, or Malayalam blockbusters?”…
Asks Kala Krishnan Ramesh, a writer for ‘The Hindu’ in her article ‘South-pawed!’
(‘Friday Review’ page 3 dated July 7th 2006)

Please Read the above Article before going any further.

It came as a relief to me as I read the article, because it was for the first time I was hearing someone else address these issues, so wholeheartedly.
Kudos to Kala Krishnan Ramesh for being so bold in describing so much in so few words…

I personally have gone through the same mental trauma several times over. And I totally understand why she’s voiced so many issues in the same article.
India is the only country which can boast of being a ‘functioning’ democracy, and in the very same breath, of also being one of the largest societies to follow and almost completely accept a culturally racistic ideology, that has remained unquestioned for far too long.

The racism goes way back to when we became independent from the British. If any one of you’ll think that the British used Hindi while conversing with Indians in different parts of the country, god save you from your ignorance. The British were less culturally racist when it came to a language. All Indian languages were foreign tongues to them anyway, so they learnt the language of the area and spoke it, because you cannot administrate an area unless you speak in its native tongue.

Our founders however decided the country needed one language, when we became an independent country, because English was their (The British) language. It’s kind of funny that a country founded on the principles of ‘unity in diversity’, suddenly wanted a ‘unifying’ language. So in order to replace English, Hindi was put into use as the National Language. Now many people cite many reasons on why Hindi was chosen… Read on as one of the biggest conspiracies in India, make you totally disbelieve in the system.

The Reasons cited (and several of my Hindi-speaking friends will also cite them…) were…

# Hindi was the largest spoken language in the country at that time…
(The Biggest farce till date in the History of India)

FACTS: Hindi was not spoken by anyone, as a native language (those who spoke Hindi by then also had other native languages). Hindi was a mixture of several North-Indian Dialects spoken all along the Hindi belt. The only basis hence was then that it was a Sanskrit based language and so held importance. Everyone in the North could learn the language, because it was so similar to their native tongues from where it was borrowed. The language’s grammar had to be formulated after independence when it was made the National Language (weird that languages with grammars already intact such as Bengali, Manipuri, Assamese, Kannada and Tamizh, weren’t even considered!) .Even more, it was so new a Language that technical terms had to be formulated in it to describe most words in Science, Math and Physics. Yet people today claim of its prominence at that time as a Language?
In reality the largest spoken language then had to be Telegu and Bengali, and maybe Punjabi. Bengali and Punjabi however lost most of it speakers to Bangladesh and Pakistan after the Partition. So logically Telegu should have been the National Language. If any of you’ll have problems believing Telegu was the most spoken language, look at an India map. The state alone covers half of South India on its own, and till today Telegu native speakers exist in parts of Karnataka, Maharashtra, Orissa, and Tamizh Nadu. So you can just imagine how many people spoke the language then…

# Hindi was easy to learn… (Yeah! Like Whatever!)
I can’t believe people accepted this!!!

FACTS: Well yes… it would be easier to learn if it was based on your native tongue (?!) What about the other half of the country? Yes they all now can speak the language but that’s after fifty years of compulsory education in the language. Then, it was as hard for them to learn Hindi as it was earlier to learn English. And by chance if you even presume that well only the south had the problem…
Cut the crap!
The whole of the east, and the south had to now learn this weird foreign tongue. Yes Sanskrit based speakers could pick it up fast… But what about Non-Sankrit based speakers such as Manipuri, The Languages of Meghalaya, The Naga Languages, The Tribal Languages of Manipur and Arunachal Pradesh, Mizo, and Tamizh?
Yes Kannada, Telegu and Malayalam were Sanskrit based, but the Dravidic Influence was more prominent, it was Hard!
And if any of you have had the weird notion that Sanskrit is the mother of all languages, THINK AGAIN!
Dravidic languages are not Sanskrit based; in fact they contributed quite a bit to the ancient Sanskrit.
For that matter any language IMPOSED on a person will become easy to learn when it compulsory, and is in compulsion for over fifty years! Why if things went right we should have all been speaking Telegu now. (Too much to digest huh!).
And if you are even thinking of claiming that Hindi sounds easier to learn… well open your eyes little one! Any language once forced would have been easy…
THINK! Why weren’t the North-Indians asked to learn Telegu instead?

# Hindi was the Language of the Freedom Movement… (Ha-ha! Wake up!)

FACTS: I wonder where? In Punjab it was Punjabi, in the south each peoples own language, in the north east their own tongues, in Bihar for that matter itself it was in Bihari and Maithili, The Hill people of present Uttaranchal and Uttar Pradesh, spoke their own dialects, and the others mostly spoke Urdu. So where does Hindi become the Language of the Freedom Movement?

These truths are not Half-truths. Any common sensed person with a yearning to learn Indian History should know these facts.

Fine! Now that the basis on why I will make the following statements, are clear to you, I will go on…

So Hindi was forced on everyone else when they didn’t want it, but were made to learn it because they were ‘Indian’ (What a pity that people had to learn a foreign language to be part of this country’s identity, the traces of Colonialism are just to in your face to ignore!)
North-India colonised the rest of the country, and well ‘India’, as it was envisioned by those cultural racists, was born. Now instead of re-fuelling burnt out coals, let me switch my topic to The Dravidian Movement.

When the people of Tamizh Nadu (The only state to protest, and be heard), began protesting against the National Language being Hindi, the rest of the now Hindi-ised country couldn’t help but consider them to be Barbaric (as a friend who by the way is a South- Indian himself referred to them), even worse Tamizhs who had been outside the state and now themselves Hindi-ised shunned their own people for asking for their cultural rights. The derogatory use of the term ‘Madrasees’ began right then.

The movement was successful and created one of the most powerful political forces in the country, the DMK (Dravida Munnetrra Kazhagam), which still rules as a party in that state even today. The people of the state soon however had to give up resistance and except the language.

We are a Democracy aren’t we?

This cultural racism now had to don a new Avataar, and that can be seen in what was discussed in the article mentioned.

The film industry, one of the most prosperous industry’s in India today (if I can call it one) is often seen to be Hindi Films alone. Bollywood or the Hindi film industry wants to represent Indian Cinema. It is very stupid to even assume it can when the BEST films ever produced in this country were in other regional languages. Even though the National Awards for Film Actors are usually given to such regional actors, Hindi films are still considered the best.

I being an ardent follower of regional cinema see no sense in this. Hindi Cinema is being noticed NOW. Regional cinema was noticed long ago! How many of you’ll even know that ‘Chemmeen’, a Malayalam movie was the first movie to win an International award, during the Black&White era? And that ‘Roja’, a recent Tamizh film is one of the most dubbed films in the world (Yes you have the film even dubbed into Japanese and, Turkish) or that ‘Kannathil Mutthamittaal’, a Tamizh movie had to win jury awards at Locarno and Toronto before it was even considered to be worthy of an award in India. The film was submitted as an entry the previous year and lost to Hindi multi-starrer ‘Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham…’, it was however given a National Award a year later, when the International medias focus on it woke up Indian audiences in the north. Even worse is when Movies are made in two languages at the same time, and the one more closer to Hindi stands more chances of winning than the one in the other language (Like in the case of ‘Yuva’ and ‘Aayuthuh Ezhuthuh’)

I am not surprised therefore when Mammootty in that same article questions Bollywood asking The IIFA based in Bollywood city Mumbai, “How can this be called International Indian Awards when the competition is limited to Hindi Films?” or when he pointed out that “Indian Cinema is not just Bollywood, and Hindi is not the only language. Why should our (he being a south Indian) cinema be called South Indian Cinema, instead of being under the banner of Indian Films?” or when he suggested that Hindi Films face the competition from their other language counterparts, before calling itself International.

I am extremely proud of this actor’s courage to talk so openly about the issue. I have heard that another actor of Bengali Origin who worked in several south Indian films, including the already mentioned ‘Kannathil Mutthamittaal’, on asking a few directors and other film honchos in the north on why such disparity existed, was asked to keep quiet, as it was not her language that was being ignored, and that the language being ignored didn’t seem to mind.

The language did mind, but didn’t want to be persecuted again of being Anti-Indian like the last time it asked for its rights, and so chose to ignore.

I could write pages and pages on this, but don’t have the energy or the time to continue.
I would love to invite comments, and clarifications. You can either comment or mail me at the id on my profile.

This country I call my own has given me the right to speak, and I will use it to my best ability when it comes to setting things right!

P.S: If you find too many mistakes in the article, forgive me, I had no time to edit it, I wanted it on my Blog as soon as possible!

Sunday, July 02, 2006

SHUT UP!!!... And let the Lord fight your battle for you!

I’ve been on this self pity trip lately. Just got down to realising a particular relationship had no future. I knew it from the beginning, but deep down I wanted to believe it would happen, and so I stuck on. I got nowhere nor did the relationship, and I had to convince myself all over again, that I’d made a wrong choice.

Relationships are weird. At least to me they are. You never ask for them, they just come in to your life, and then one fine day they might decide to just walk out of your life too. With them however come happiness, and that lovely sense of belonging. It’s so nice to be needed by someone you love, and at the same time very painful when you realise you aren’t.

My life from September last year to February this year has been happy. I couldn’t have asked for more. But since then I’ve had problems heaped on problems, adding to my already problematic life. My life saw love, again, and this time I thought it was happening. But it wasn’t and I came to my senses quite recently.

As usual it wasn’t my fault, and the self-pity trip came about. I cried, and complained and tried solving the problem on my own, but nothing worked. Last week I attended the Saturday worship at church after a really long time, and the sermon spoke directly to me. I was astounded at how, the message seemed directly talking to me. The sermon told me not to try and solve my own problems, when they become too big. Instead, trust in the lord and leave it to him.

“Shut up, and let the lord fight your battle for you!”

I couldn’t have asked for more. This week, another friend sang a song during the very same meeting, and I now knew it was meant only for me…

It’s good to be lonely every now and again…
To be parted from the ones you adore…
To sit at a table for two all alone,
And take a look at the world around you…
At people with no one to go home to…
Some with no place to belong…
Others consumed by their weakness…
And another, when weak seems so strong.

Lord let me be at peace wherever I am,
Satisfied with all I have… A faithful friend,
And know I’m grateful…
‘Cause it makes me love you even more…
I know… I’m sure…

It’s good to be lonely every now and again…
It’s good to go down to defeat now and then…
To fail at some noble pursuit…
To fall short of the prize…
And find in his eyes…
There’s nothing your victory can do…
To secure higher favour…
He cannot love you more than now…
Winners and losers…
All the same somehow.

Lord let me be at peace wherever I am,
Satisfied with all I have… A faithful friend,
And know I’m grateful…
‘Cause it makes me love you even more…
I know… I’m sure…

And it’s good to know sorrow…
To be closely acquainted with grief…
To be showered with tears…
No reason to cheer…
To find Christ your only relief.

Lord let me be at peace wherever I am,
Satisfied with all I have… A faithful friend,
And know I’m grateful…
‘Cause it makes me love you even more…
I know… I’m sure…

Wayne Watson.

The song hit me right where I needed to be hit. And I thank all those who helped me overcome the hardest problem I’ve faced as yet.

Thank you Nikhil… There’s something about people with your name that makes me connect with them! : )
Thank you Santosh… Your sermon got it off…
Thank you Rahul for being in my life, and unconsciously led me closer to my Lord…
Thank you Tanya, for always being there, even though you’ve had your own battles to face…
And thank you Keerthi for trying so hard to set things right…

“I’m alone a lot. One spring Saturday in a small ‘mom n pop’ restaurant, I wasn’t just alone, I was lonely. I sat and just watched. Families together, to elderly ladies out for lunch, a mother with two unhappy babies. Next time you go on pity binge, go off and watch the world go by, and COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS”; Wayne Watson.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006



He walked in, saw her lying on their red-quilted bed, and as always his eyes drifted questioningly all along the contours of her body.
From her head, his eyes wandered down over the curve of her back, and down to those feet… Heaven on earth!
He swallowed hard; as he relished looking at those slender long toes, at that seductive curve of her sole, and at the pink nail polish painted with such precision, on those toe-nails…
She was beautiful!

He first saw her at his cousins wedding.
He had walked into the Mandapam, as part of the ‘Boys Side’. He could never forget, looking at them for the first time. There they were, beneath that richly zaried magenta Kanjeevaram that fell over them like pretty rain clouds on a sunny morning sky. He couldn’t take his eyes of them.
They were the most beautiful ones he’d ever seen. He stared at them gaping in awe, wondering all the while, if he was actually seeing them. He would have stared all day, if it hadn’t been for cousin, nudging him out of his reverie.
He had caught everyone’s attention, including the owner of those jewels. She stared at him, confused over why this attractive man spent such a long time staring at her, never looking up at her face even once.
Her curiosity got the better of her, and she bumped into him on purpose after the ceremony. She introduced herself. He remembered considering her face to be quite pretty too, but that hardly mattered to him. The rest of the conversation he couldn’t remember, as much as he tried.

A month later after his mother frantically searched for her, all over the country, and a date was fixed, they were engaged. They were married a fortnight later. And now, they were expecting their first child.

It was five years since they had moved into this house. The house was her fathers wedding gift.

She looked so beautiful, in that red nightshirt, he thought.
It was a rainy day. He loved the rain.
He loved anything in red (how he pleaded with her to use red nail polish, instead of the deep magenta shade, she loved using). He would never buy her any lingerie or nightwear unless they were lacy and were in some shade of red.
The flowers on his office table were red, and so were the briefs he wore everyday.

The rain that day made it perfect. He loved it when water droplets bounced off oily surfaces, or stood on rubber undisturbed, in the form of the very drop they fell in.

He was happy as he walked into the shower, and reached for his shampoo. He loved the way shampoo squirted out of the bottle (He always threw his shampoo bottles half used… Just so that he would gain all the pleasure in seeing the shampoo squirt out well from a new one). He loved being sparkling clean all the time. Yet, he loved the smell of sweat on another man’s body. (He loved using the public transport as a kid, and gained much pleasure from the various bodily scents he picked up on such rides).

He walked out of his shower and wiped himself dry.

She lay there all night alone on her bed, with a three month old child in her womb, as he sat and counted his money on the sitting room table. The smell of money excited him too.

He didn’t need her. He just needed those feet. He had them now, what more did he want?


She married him because he had a mole on his cheek.

She loved those growths however small they seemed, as long as they were on the cheek. She loved spying on men who drooled over other men (She watched him sit on the toilet, through the keyhole, every evening, drooling over the half nude men, in the glossy on his lap).
She loved wearing lacy things, and loved red. She was finicky too, when it came to cleanliness and loved washing her hands in soap water.
She loved the feel of latex.
She was happy and wanted nothing more in life.

They were a happily married couple. They never had any scandalous affairs (at least none that anyone came to know of).
They lived happily, and died peacefully, ripened of age.
They were the favourite aunt and uncle in their locality.
They brought forth two lovely beings into the earth, and were proud loving grandparents.
They were the talk of the town, all their lives and were looked upon as the perfect couple.
They were perfect indeed.
They were as normal as any of us!

Friday, June 23, 2006

Collaejoo Collaejoo!!

This morning I went back to college, after an over-indulgent holiday, ready to embrace my alma mater, arms widespread…
I walked into that campus, feeling all proud. Sniffing that green air, and greedily swallowing every bit of beauty that came my way…

And the first thing to catch-my-eye was the college central pathway being marked off on its edges with a ‘horrendous elevation’, painted in stripes, in colours so mismatched, they reminded me of a zebra climbing a tree!

(No… o… o…o…o…o!)…

I stood back aghast, and wanted to scream out at the top of my voice “Like” (in typical college style), for that’s all I could possibly do…

I walked around college for the next ten minutes scowling at everyone I knew, had something to do with the administration, and (hence) was partially responsible for this heinous crime…

I mean, they couldn’t do that, it was my college, it stood for me, it stood for what I was, and what I aimed to be… they couldn’t be so irresponsible… God!

I gave up in a while, knowing my scowls were only attracting unwanted attention, and went to the kiosk, to calm my nerves over a hot cup of coffee…

Coffee, couldn’t taste better than when it’s served in paper cups, and drunk, with friends all around, sipping on their cups of coffee, chatting, and gossiping about everything possible, under the sun… (You don’t need a ‘café’ to make you love coffee, a few good friends to share a cup with, will do ALL the magic required!)

My friends were there to cheer me up over this humongous loss we’d all faced.
It was a loss for the whole of my batch, my seniors and my juniors…
As much as you’ll want us to accept that it was more about ‘our’ college being decked up to welcome the freshers, we just will not agree…

They’re freshers anyway, and we’ll let them know of how the pathway looked better without those ‘horrendous barricades’. (And you know what…?) They’ll agree with us, like all juniors do.

College life is a cycle of being a junior, a senior and at times of being somewhere right in-between. We’ve been there, done that and now was our chance of being seniors…

We ’d never forget how the farewells were, and how we got to know so many people on that day, and got to know them even better later…(It’s funny how we all wait for the last minute to get to know people, and regret for the rest of our lives that we didn’t get to know them earlier)…

My batchies (Batch-mates to the un-initiated!) were however of the more prepared sort, we sorted out our differences (we like to claim!), and have been a happy little batch ever since…

We’ve been more interested in patching up, or rather fixing up classmates, or otherwise, making grand plans of booking a movie for the whole batch (and going for them too), or otherwise just hanging out in college, happy with our company…ever since!
The company is what matters, not the place…
So as long as it’s us, it doesn’t matter where we are, we’ll surely have the time of our lives…

Our lives for the three or four years in college constantly mingle with each other’s.
We quite unknowingly forge and build relationships that will take us a lifetime to overcome or abide by.
We live such an inter-dependent life, that it’s hard to give it up, when we part ways.
We learn lessons the hard way, and learn to co-operate, but most of all we learn to live life to the fullest.

It’s funny how we die to go on holiday when we’re in college, and cry even more for college to re-open when we’re on holiday. Some of us go to the heights of following the college dress-code at home, and even following seating rules, laid down by the college…
Just so that we don’t feel we’re missing out on all that much.

The college, however inanimate it seems to be, is a part of all of us.
We’ve shared our secrets with the trees, our tears with those corners in the corridor, our laughter with those tables and chairs, and every memory is made up of each and everything we encounter within these four walls, day after day.

The College is alive in all of us!

The bell rings, its 9am, and all the chatting ends… Its time for the first class, of the year… Hope we’ve haven’t been assigned new classrooms… We just love the old ones… can’t imagine giving away even that to the juniors… (God! What else will they take from us?!)…

We walk up to our classrooms, most of us still quite grumpy about those weirdly coloured ‘Obstructions’.
We’re ready to face one more year of non-stop fun.
Sure we’ll have the downs, but who cares, when there’ll be more ‘ups’ to make-up for them.
We’ve just got one more year ahead, and we know we’ll make the most of it.

Friends, Relationships, Fun, Boredom, Sorrow, Tears and Joy; College has come a long way from just meaning ‘Education’ to any one of us…

It’s a part of our lives, none of us can ever forget.

The Others ?

“…If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not LOVE, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not LOVE, I gain nothing. LOVE is patient, LOVE is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, and it keeps no record of wrongs. LOVE does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres.
1 Corinthians 13:2-8
From The First letter from Paul to the Church in Corinth (Greece)

“Neecheay ishq hain, Uupar rrab hain, in donoeh kaey beech mein sab hain…
Ik nahiin soen baathein karloen, soen baathoen kaa, ek matlab hain…
Rrab sabsaey sonaa, Rrab saey bhi sonaa… Ishq! ”

From ‘Taal’

What is Love?

One of the most cliché questions to have ever been asked, is also the most difficult to answer. To me and I’m sure half the planet, who are romantics like me; Love is a feeling, and an emotion, that is pure, limitless, and makes one all the more self-less as it grows within them. It is a beautiful experience to share and feel. It makes you more human, as it works within you.
It is life, and everything that’s infinitely positive in it. It is God!

Love has been the base of all religions for centuries. Love is what makes Religions. And one great, Teacher, who gave love, the most important place in human life, was Christ. I follow Christ, but I will not call myself a Christian. The term ‘Christian’ somehow has come to represent a member of ‘The Church’, than a follower of Christ, for some odd reason. The Church teaches from the Bible, and the Bible is said to be the word of God. I however prefer referring to only what Christ said to be the word of God, and the rules or ‘Teachings’(as I would prefer calling them) as he had laid them down, are the only rules I believe I need to follow. The rest of the book is a guide, a warning and something that helps me understand life better.

And as far as I know, Christ believed love to be foremost. Love overshadowed everything else, and Love was the only way to heaven, according to him. Fear, which was the key element in Pre-Christ writings in the bible, somehow took second stands when Christ came. Christ made us love our Lord instead of fearing him. That makes so much more sense to a person like me, because fear would have brought obedience out of fear in its self. But love would bring obedience out of respect, and pure natural love, that one could experience with the divine. I follow Christ’s teachings because I love the man, from deep down. You can’t help yourself from loving someone so understanding, so calm, so human and yet so divine.
And so for me my religion, ‘Christianity’ or not, has always been about loving.

Quite recently I was part of a debate on something that was well a part of me in some way, and thus implied to me more relevantly then anyone else. During a youth meeting at church, a discussion on relationships led to the topic of Homosexuality and Gay Marriages. The word, or its often misused relative ‘Gay’, is almost taboo in most Churches. But being a ‘Youth’ meeting, I guess the argument prevailed. I deep down believed that Homosexuality, if involving two people who actually love each other, truly and with purity in their hearts and minds, was acceptable. Not surprisingly, half the group did not agree with me.

Christianity and its Church have quite easily made all Homosexuals sinners. The moment a person agrees to the fact of loving a person from his/her own sex, He/She is doomed to hell. On the other hand a straight man who marries a woman and well does not love her, truly and in purity or Vice Versa, or for that matter agrees to a relationship with her/him, and does not love the partner truly and in purity, is accepted with open arms. Yes the Church claims He/She will go to hell too, but only after they die. (Yet the same church is bent on creating a living hell for Homosexuals)

On the other hand a Homosexual is even debarred from access to a Church. Any ‘Good’ Christian or Muslim for that matter will give you a reference of ‘Sodom and Gomorrah’, two prosperous towns in the Old Testament, that were destroyed for their sinful natures, one being Homosexuality.(The word Sodomy claims origin to this city), and thus prove that all Homosexuality is sin. Such generalizations only complicate matters. If everyone took a small part of their time to understand Homosexuals, it wouldn’t be all that hard to understand them. If you haven’t read on…

Homosexuals can be broadly divided into Real and Fake Homosexuals, keeping Biblical morals in mind;

A Real Homosexual is someone who needs the presence of a partner of his/her own same sex in his/her own life. They usually are very serious once they settle down with a partner, having found one, and even at times wish to get married. They like other straight may not always be potential Fidel partners but they have the capability of being so. (Sex is not all that important to a real Homosexual, it’s the presence of the partner)

A Fake Homosexual is someone, who well is just interested in sexual activities with his own sex out of sheer curiosity, having pre-dispositions that it might be more exciting etc., Such people use such relationship for primarily sexual satisfaction purposes. They usually prefer having a long term relationship however with their opposite sex, moral or not moral. Many fake Homosexuals call themselves Bisexuals. (Sex is what drives their relationships, it’s all that matters)

A True Bisexual on the other hand is someone who is able to find equable partners in either of the sexes and stay true to them. This however means relatively nothing significant in Christian terms as the person remains straight if he chooses a partner in the opposite sex, while the person becomes Homosexual if he/she prefers a partner in his/her own sex. A true Bisexual is therefore just a person who has the ability to love someone from either sex.

Now, about Linking Love to Sex… Well it should be logically understood, that sex is almost a branch that stems from love if love was a tree. Sex was meant to be a physical expression of love, and that’s what I will consider it to be. I do not support Pre-Marital sex; therefore I’m talking about Homosexuals who indulge in Sexual Acts only after they’ve decided to be Fidel to each other. Those who indulge in such acts before they’ve decided to live together and be faithful, well according to me, do not consider their relationship to be sanctified, and are not to whom I refer to in this piece of writing.

It is therefore quite ironic that Homosexuals who believe in the sanctity of their relationships, and agree to follow ‘Christian’ morals concerning Fidelity and Adultery, are still not allowed to be a part of any Church and aren’t accepted by many ‘Christians’.
While in the same breath Straight people who indulge in far from moralistic behaviour and might not even love each other, are accepted with arms wide open…

It’s unfortunate that a Religion based on true and pure love does not see the love within these individuals (who want to marry according to their religion, and be accepted, all within the conventions that define true love), and denies them membership or even the right to marry.

In such weird conditions one can’t but help loose faith in the religion, where the upholders of the religion somehow take it upon themselves to decide which kind of love is right and which wrong. Believing in Christ and his teachings alone is the only way out. He taught that Love meant everything, and that makes more sense than the double faced attitude today’s Churches take on the issue, in his name.

The Church has all the right to shun Homosexuals, who indulge in sexual perversions (as it would like to call it) for the sake of pure physical pleasure, and without Love for the person the relationship is being shared with. But the Church is completely wrong in Firstly, Generalising ‘True’ Homosexuals, as being perverted. They aren’t! For that matter they usually understand the emotion of Love far more comprehensively then most straight people. And Secondly, Debarring them from the rights of Religious Acceptance, and Marriage, for the simple reason that they are supposedly sinners!

Well, when did we become the judges of the sinner and the holy man? And since when did God say he would forgive only straight people? (If your so bent on saying ‘Gay’ equals ‘Hell’), and since when did loving people with all your heart, soul and mind and wanting to share your life with them, irrespective of gender become SIN in a religion founded on the emotion of Love?

I found my answers trying to answer these questions and I believe, at the end of the day…


May You Find Your Answers Too!

“When Christ accepted, never Judging, who are we to Judge?”

“…If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not LOVE, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not LOVE, I gain nothing. LOVE is patient, LOVE is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, and it keeps no record of wrongs. LOVE does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres.

1 Corinthians 13:2-8

Friday, June 02, 2006

I Gave Up… Before I even started…

“It never really mattered,
Anyone could see,
For what began in nothing,
Ended Similarly”.

Love Makes You Blind, or so the cliché saying goes. Quoted and re-quoted, it never fails to bemuse me, for the sheer irony of it.

I saw him, the day I entered college. Yes, the sun shone bright that day, and the trees were greener than usual. I even (and I can swear) heard birds chirp, and saw butterfly’s flutter around everywhere.
It was a beautiful morning indeed, and it was even prettier with such a face to enliven it. I wonder what drew my attention to him. Was it just how he looked, was it his eyes that made you look deeper into them, the more you stared, or was it his smile?
I guess it was the smile (A Smile Speaks a Thousand Words). I was floored, I needed to get to know this person, and I needed to know what was it that drew my attention to him, in just one glance.
Now as much as I wish that ‘My Story’ took the ‘normal’ turn of events thereafter, it didn’t!
I never spoke to him all through my first year, and when I did stumble upon an excellent opportunity to speak to him, I couldn’t muster up the courage to even say ‘Hi!’
I was in the most simplest of words a ‘Loser’, ‘a big time loser’, in love.
But, ‘My Raincloud’ saw the sun too, and one day I did.
The conversation lasted for half an hour (I felt it went on for days), and in those brief moments we spent together, I knew he was meant for me. I dreamt of having his children, raising his family, and spending the rest of my life with him.
We became the best of friends, he loved me, I loved him, and it was funny that all this was happening, just because a smile had caught my attention on a very fine morning.
I saw my dreams come closer to reality. He made me need him, he needed me, we needed each other, and life went on.

Wondering where the fateful twist comes in? It did.
Not much later, she entered his life. She stole him, slowly, all the while cleverly playing both sides of her card well.
I realised too late. I couldn’t undo what happened, so I let life take us where it wanted to. I couldn’t give up, so I took on the role of the martyr (How we all love that role). I would love him endlessly and let him follow his heart, and if I truly loved him he would come back (Romantics!)
I watched them fall in love, I actually helped them fall in love, and when they were in love, I couldn’t help but envy her. I knew I could have been selfish and claimed him for myself, but I believed in ‘Love’, in its most divine and purest form.
I believed in sacrifice.

Two years down the line, I’m still single, and he and his vixen are the most happening couple on campus. I still love him, and I’ll wait, forever...

He found out the other day, and instead of glorifying my Martyrdom, he walked away, disgusted.

His face turned away from me, he asked me, with tears in his eyes, if I actually loved him.
I managed to get out a yes, all the while trying to stop myself from choking over pent up emotions, dying to burst out.
He tried to put on a fake smile, and he just walked away, not saying a word, leaving me alone, all alone, on that road…

I wished it had rained then… rained like never before. I wanted to wash away his tears, and cry out loud. I had turned that pretty face I loved, into a face of confusion, bitterness, and sorrow,
When I was only trying to ‘Love’ Him.
What went wrong?
It seemed so senseless that, my own ‘Good Deeds’ had turned against me…

But then, right then, I realised…
It struck me like lightening, and shook me to my very core.
I hadn’t loved him!
I couldn’t have been in Love, if I could hide it so well and never let him have a clue…
It wasn’t Love, for I let him hurt himself… He felt guilt, as he walked away…
And if I loved him I wouldn’t have let him feel guilty…
If I had actually loved him, would I have so easily given him up, and let him into the arms of another…
If I had actually loved him, wouldn’t I have tried harder...?

I had enjoyed our Honeymoon, and didn’t want to take it further…
I didn’t have the strength to face what would become of us, if I spoke the truth.
I didn’t want to even try to make the honeymoon last forever…
I didn’t believe it could…

The Honeymoon ended before it began…
I gave up… before I even started.

“The last petal withered, crumbled and fell to the ground…
A Flower not watered… Died a wasteful death”

P.S: No Ideas... as to who im referring to... coz its no one...

This is a piece of writing i've submitted to a magazine... Chumma! and dont be so confused of the gender... DUH!!

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

"The Divide..."

It happens all the time, but this time round it really pissed me off...

I was walking through ‘Forum’ the other day, with a friend who was well cuter than most other guys (and I have a MAJOR weakness for cute guys… Ahem!), But a bit darker in complexion than most of my other friends, when we both almost bumped into two very obviously Gujuraati boys. We missed each other by an inch, and well I turned round to say sorry, when I realised that the two boys weren’t very pleased. They muttered of some bad word in Gujuraati (It sounded bad!), and then worsened the situation by adding some thing that went with a meaning of “….These Madrasees…”, It wasn’t surprising one bit, for its almost become, an accepted norm, all over India, for this term to be used, as a derogatory insult, to most South Indians, I wasn’t all that pissed till one of my Southern Indian friends did the same a few days ago (He Apparently did it in humour… ?!)

That did it!

I mean when will this obviously stupid generalizing and derogatory, use of the word STOP?

Madras doesn’t exist anymore, its Chennai now, for heavens sake! (But that’s not even half the problem!)

Ever since the independence of India, the North-South divide (I shall call it so, for it divides us further than we can ever acknowledge), has only been worsening with each year. These divisions based very obviously on topographical divisions, are worse than racial discriminations because they don’t obviously involve races anymore.

This ‘Madrasee’ is inclusive of everyone who lives below the state of Maharashtra, and Orissa, and thus includes Andhrites, Kannadiggas, Keralites, Konkanis, Tamizhians, Tulus, Kodavaas, Badagaas, Tamizh Sauraashtrians and several Tribal (Around 30 odd) groups who live scattered all over the Southern Peninsula.

Colour, has added even further to the divide, as Most South Indians are generally perceived to be dark in complexion , and all North Indians Fair (Its funny how , several, North Indians, will refuse to believe of Rekha’s, Hema Malini’s , and even Aishwarya Rai’s, southern family lines), its even worse when, Dark is again considered to be ugly (?!)… And fair beautiful.

The Divide is even obvious, when it comes to something as trivial as Language Accents, Its funny how, a South Indian is ‘Forced’ to learn a North Indian Language and then, mocked again for not speaking the ‘foreign’ tongue properly, or when professors from leading North Indian Universities, based in ‘The Capital’ (again in the North?!), claim that the English Spoken in North India is far more ‘English’ than the English spoken by South Indians (When almost everyone in the South think Vice Versa), But the Northern Ideology triumphs, as the Central Boards of all Educational, or Lingual foundations, are based there…

And when certain people stand up for the cause of protecting their identities, in a country fast on its way of losing its ‘Heralding’ multiple identities, for a more ‘Global’ Indian Identity, they’re either considered, trouble makers, or worse, Partitionists (?!)
I for one have decided to stand for this cause, being a Tamizh- Manipuri, I see this ugly face of racist, India, IN MY FACE everyday, and well… I can’t take it anymore… I have decided to stop using a language that stands as a symbol for such a un-equilibrium in this country… I hate the fact that I cannot love this language, as I once loved it, for it now seems to be a tool for such discrimination (?!)

Down south ‘Madrasees’, Up east ‘Chinkees’ (because they have Mongoloid features!), Its almost like these people aren’t Indians, and the others are… and yet we complain that they ask for ‘freedom’ and ask for special rights, or even consider them to be ‘Barbaric’ (Ha! A friend actually said that), because they’re afraid of losing the only identity they have left, and thus refusing a compulsion on using this ‘Majority’ language...

We all came to this land long ago, none of us have claim to it, Its this diversity that gives us our identity, so instead of being racist and imagining ‘The Indian’ to be one ‘Kind’ of person, understand, ‘Indian’ Itself has too many faces… The Dravidians (The Earliest) came from what is now Australia, long ago, The Aryans from Middle Asia, The Mongolians, might have even preceded both as they came from much closer Mongolia, and Never had a history written, nor left any traces… The only people left, are the Negroids and the Austric Tribals, and well… wherever they came from, does not matter…

So… Who is the Indian, we all claim to be?

Is the Naga from some remote part of Mokokchung any less Indian than the Haryanvi from Noida? Or the Keralite from some village in Pathnamthitta any less Indian than the Punjabi from Jalandhar... Then how is it that these people do not refer to the North Indian as ‘Gora’ or ‘Vellaikaar’…

It’s Time for a Change… Or we are accepting that the real Indian is the North Indian because The Capital and The Government reside there?! Are we? …

Are we Accepting facts like, a film originally made in a South Indian Language, dubbed into this ‘Indian’ Language, has more chances of winning an award, because, its in This ‘Majority’ (?!) Language…?

Or even worse, that half of our Leaders, other than Nominal Heads, seem to be from this ‘Majority’ (The few of the others who DID make it, weren’t even there!)…

It goes on and on… The argument never ends, you might completely differ in you views, and I give you an equal right to express your view… Feel free to comment, but not before you think about what I’ve written… As an Indian.

I am Proud to be a citizen of this Country that respects my voice, and lets me speak out… Respect this Freedom, and do not be a cause for you losing yourself this Right!

I’m sorry if I’ve hurt anyone’s feelings, please believe me when I say, I spoke of no one, in particular, in this piece of writing… feel free to let me know of what you think!

“Eeshwaruh Allaah, Taeray Jahaan Mein,
Nafarathuh Kyoon Hein, Jangue Hein Kyoon?
Taeraa Dil Thoeh, Itnaah Badaa Hein,
Insaan Kaah Dil, Tangue Hein Kyoon?”
Mohandaas Karamchand Gandhi.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006


"13 Sir!!!".... "The PJ Kings".... "NDTV... Yes Sir!".... "Butt-Actually...".... "...the Funda is...".... "Honestly... men!".... "loo-suh-rr!...".... "Hey...Bhaggu!...".... "Faaayne-h!...".... "Gone...Gone...".... "Yo!".... "Lol! Ha Ha :-)".... "Whatevaah!".... etc..,

Its been two years now, and we've bonded, we've fought, we've cried, we've laughed, and shared our best experiences together.....

Dedicated to my dear JPEng'rs....

We've become parts of each other's existence, and lets hope we continue to do so....

Love each of you'll,
Let the coming year be the best of our lives together....

Feel free to comment, and add your most remarkable, unforgettable, JPEng experience.
May these memories never cease to amuse us.... as we giggle away whenever we remember those little jokes we once shared and those Dumb! pranks and PJ's we pulled on together....

Dying to read your comments!...

Jai 109!
Jai Naresh Rao!
Jai Christ College Media Dept! (Lol!)

Thursday, May 11, 2006

The Sister, The Dog and Me.

The Nandi Hills Trip, was not that bad after all heh?

I gotta pose with Sister... Yeah!!

Cant beleive that was me!

You needn't comment...

Yes YOU! Need Not Comment ; ) Lol!

Sunday, April 30, 2006

The Trip Back Home... : )

“If Heaven is on earth… IT IS HERE” (Romal Singh at Naadugaani, The Nilgiris District, Tamil Nadu, Southern India, on the 20th of April, 2006)

After almost six long years on Monday the 17th , April 2006, I, Romal Micheal Singh, the youngest of the Laishram-Stanley Parivaar, headed back home to the hills, my only sole-footing of Hope, The Nilgiris, accompanied by the Periyapattinam Rao Parivaar (aka., Deepti, Uncle Dilip, and Aunty Priyamvadaa [Hari couldn’t accompany us : (] ) and my dear Kannaa, Ebenezer Prasad Winston (aka., Ebbie).

DAY 1, The 17th of April 2006, Monday.

We began late much to my own amusement, as Ebbie woke up late! (Not suprising at all…eh?)[A planned departure from my residence at 7:30 am, eventually happened at 8:45 am], and I left home, airbag straddled on my shoulders, clinging to the bike seat for my very dear life, as I made it to the Periyapattinam Residence, braving the now infamous Bommanahalli and BTM Layout Traffic Jams, as a pillion rider in the hands of self-acclaimed ‘Daredevil’ M. Ebbie. Well all whining apart, we reached Destination Aarambham (The Start) at 9:15. (WARNING!! DO NOT ATTEMPT TO RECREATE THE INCIDENT JUST NARRATED FOR SHEER RESPECT FOR THE VALUE OF YOUR LIFE. “You Have Been Sufficiently warned!!”[Har har har!!] )

All Packed and ready to leave the Periyapattinams were a delight to converse with, a jolly family, with a dad, who reminds anyone of us of Mr. Vishwajeeth Rai, But, with a far greater range of interests, lucky Deepti Huh?! , and a mum, who is well the sweetest thing I’ve come across in ages…Lucky Deepti Again (envy!). Several ‘Notes-pasted-all-over-the-house-telling-Hari-HOW-TO-DO-THINGS’ later, we moved. Our Vaahanam was a Pretty Qualis which I thought was a Sumo (Duh!) [Well... I’m not Ebbie!!!] And we left the Periyapattinam residence at 9:30 am qui est a la BTM Layout.

A really fast drive, accentuated with introductions, constant recreations of the shooting for NDTV 24x7 the day before, and several FEEBLE attempts at recreating Navdhas PJ Glory (for who can be PJ Raani, But The PJ Raani herself), not forgetting the idyllic mimicking of dear friend Leonard Bar Hunka, got us to our first stop in no time.

Ramanagaram a few odd 30kms south (I guess!) of Bangalore is a sleepy yet beautifully maintained hamlet on the Highway. Home to the now defunct ‘Janapada Loka’, it still runs its ‘Kamat Loka-Ruchi’ Eatery. We stopped there for a delicious breakfast unequalled in terms of the Kannada taste bud. Ramanagaram, one of the few places to hold on to its original Tamizh sounding name (The ‘Nagaram’, which would be ‘Nagara’ in case of a Kannada Origin), is also a centre for Kannada Handicrafts like world famous Channapatna (from the original ‘Chennapattinam’ in the Tamizh), another Hamlet a few KMs down the road. The Breakfast was amazing, from the Kattae (tied) Idlies, uncle had, to the Masala Dosaas we had, which I must say had a much more interesting ‘Masala’ (consisting of Potatoes, Green Peas and Greens), than the Plain seasoned Potato Masala of Bangalore, everything tasted authentic and what could be better than washing it all down with hot cups of Pure Bangalore Style ‘Filter Kaapi’?
The Meal was followed by a very involved shopping spree at a small handicraft Shoppe within the eatery complex. The eatery built into an old Bungalow kind of a setting, created the perfect ambience for any wholesome, truly enjoyable meal. The wash basin held a lizard baby, that I couldn’t get my eyes off, while aunty Priyamvadaa tried caressing ducks. The Shopping however was even more involved, we (as in Deepti, Aunty Priyamvadaa, and me) came across the most cutely crafted wooden bangles, with colours as diasporic as a rainbow. Bhavyaa came to all our minds all at once, and we couldn’t help buying stuff for herJ!

I stared at the Bracelets in my hand and I like them so I bought one. I thought of Phanindra, and wished from the bottom of my heart that he had come for the trip : ( ! The poor fellow must have been getting so damn bored in Hyderabad. Its funny (lol [that’s his pet name too]), how I’ve come to cherish his presence in such short time, very few people have had this effect on me. Uncle reminded us that we had to get all the way to Avalaanchee (written in Tamizh as Avalaanjee), so we hurried out and the journey continued.

We crossed Maddur (home of the famous ‘Maddur Vadaa’), Flew past Mandya, slowed down near Shrirangapatna (Srirangapattinam) and saw the sparkling Kaavaeri flow under us. (I could see why Karnataka and Tamil Nadu fought over the river; it looked gorgeous as it navigated its way around the fort). We soon were within the limits of the Urban Mysore Corporation limits.

Mysore is a beautiful Provincial capital that still hasn’t lost its royal charm. The town (I cannot refer to it as a city as much as the Mysorigas might want me to, because I found it just too small to be one!) seems to have grown around the palace at its centre. Every crossing reminded me of a royal era that the town once lived in. The Chamundi Hill is the home of Devi Chamundeshwari, an incarnation of The Aryic Devi Paarvati, in her Durgaa Form. The goddess is alternatively known as Chamundeswari Amman, to the followers of the Amman cult down south in Tamil Nadu where she is considered to be an avatar of Rajarajeshwari Amman. The hill provides a beautiful backdrop to the town. The Palace architecture however came across as a very confusing style. As much as I was told it was of the Indo-Sarcenic style, I believe there were other styles that influenced the construction too. We couldn’t afford to stop so we continued, almost whirl winding ourselves through the town area. The only other thing to catch my attention was The St. Philomena’s Cathedral, again for its truly outstanding presence and remarkable out of the way hybrid architectural style. We were soon on the outskirts, and a truck caught both Aunty Priyamvadaa’s attention as well as mine, it was named Sri Kaalabhairavar Thunai (in Tamizh). The mention of Kaalabhairavar as a God (previously thought to be a demon) brought up a discussion on Tamizh spirituality that kept me going till the next stop.

We passed Nanjangud without even realising we passed it and stopped on the outskirts of Gundlupet, at a roadside eatery called ‘Coffee Stoppee’, for our lunch. The lunch was well prepared and filling, a typical Kannadiga afternoon meal, with overenthusiastic hosts, who kept asking us if we wanted refills. The eatery was well built, with the cafeteria in an open veranda, with a tiled canopy roof. Clean and white were the moods of the space. Deepti and Ebbie seemed all too involved in a stray cat to notice anything else including the food. Conversations apart, I plucked two Jasmine blooms for Aunty, and regret with guilt to this day, for doing so : ( ! (I was tormented into feeling guilty obviously, by the trio).

The trip from Gundlupet to Bandipur didn’t last all that long, we crossed a town on the way called Hangaala, and another town called Begur (well if that isn’t the most common name for a town in Karnataka [weird, for as far as I understand, ‘Baega’ in Kannada means far and ‘Ooru’ means village.. i.e. ‘Fast Village’?] ), which were both funny to me because of the way they were named and well, Ebbie comes from a taluk in Bangalore called Begur. We began to see The Nilgiris Hills soon after we crossed Begur.

The drive uphill was beautiful, but I couldn’t help but notice on the way, a resort called The Bandipur Wildlife Resort (Jungle Club) just before we reached Mel-Kammannahalli, the last stop before we entered The Bandipur Wildlife Reserve. The resort by NO way was an escape from Bangalore, believe me!! The resort seemed to be like one small Bangalore around 150kms from the city, equipped with cabled rooms with geysers, internet connections and god knows what... what a shame to the adventure spirit! I must however admit that the new Tourism Ministry has sure been on its toes. Other than coming up with a well written (for starters) tagline… “KARNATAKA, One State, Many Worlds” (Nothing compared to “KERALA, Gods own Country”, my all time favourite), its new Yellow Boards with a calligraphed ‘KARNATAKA’, sure are an eye-catcher.

Several Yellow Boards later we entered the park. First we saw dense shrubbery, typical of a scrub forest, and then we came across ‘Propaah’ jungle Vegetation. The Bandipur town at that part of the morning seemed quite deserted, and well so, we just drove right past it. Boring Bandipur ended as we came to the Moyaar stream, on which a bridge stood as the No-Mans Land between Karnataka and Tamil Nadu.

It was one glorious moment for a Tamizh at heart like me, for beyond that bridge stood home, stood all that I cared for, all that I was. Bidding farewell to Kannada Nadu, I entered Tamil Nadu, and believe me the difference was seen, for within minutes of entering Tamil Nadu territory, we saw our fill of wildlife and greenery. That government ought to be congratulated for its awesome work at maintaining forests. Green, fresh jungle all around us with occasional sights of Deer, Peacock, Jungle fowl, and Wild Boar, left both Deepti and Ebbie at the edge of their seats. I felt some sense of pride surge in me for being part of the district for so long, and being part of its war against poaching. The reward for those times, I reaped now, as I almost felt like I was showing off MY wildlifeJ! We were already in ‘The Mudumalai Wildlife Sanctuary and National Park’ territory, and we soon crossed Theppakaaduh, the Elephant camp (a landmark, anyone who’s been there will remember).

All over one could see signs warning us “NO smoking, plastic, and alcohol” within the park boundaries. The dense vegetation gave way to scrub forest as we left the sanctuary’s borders. We were in Masinagudi in no time (Masinagudi being the outpost kind of town for the sanctuary and also an important town of the Nilgiris), and Uncle Dilip and Deepti, on seeing a garage called ‘Kerala Garage’ began narrating their previous adventures in the area, and how on one occasion, their car gave up while trying to climb up the Sirgur Ghat (A steep ghat [hill], in the vicinity. The signs continued as we left the area, and reached Maavanalla (the Tamizh’ised version of ‘Mahavan-Allah’). A town, which brought back, a whole lot of memories. Of my dad and my school and a campsite called ‘Quiet Corner’ [I showed it to all of them as we passed it], and of its eccentric owner and his rabid dog, and well a whole lot of things that fogged up my mind, with sweet and bitter feelings. Luckily I was brought out of that mood by a quick stop, uncle decided to make on the road. It worsened even further as I remembered daddy telling me he wanted to buy land there and settle down there forever. He never even got to visit it again. We resumed our journey and desperate to get out of the ever worsening cramp I was getting deep down in my stomach, I began to tease poor Ebbie (God! What would I do without him). When nobody noticed, I said a silent prayer that his soul might rest in peace. But the jolly mood was soon back, as we began to climb the famous ‘Fatal 36 Hair Pin Bend Stretch’ ( the Tamizh for hair-pin bend never ceases to amuse me; ‘Kondai Oosii Vilaivuh’).

We crossed several more of those amazing sign boards, till we came across one that took my breath away. The Sign Board said quite plainly in Tamizh and English; “You Have Been Sufficiently Warned !!!” almost as if telling us, the government felt that by now we had better been warned that we weren’t allowed to smoke, use plastic, cause forest fires, drink and drive, or damage nature in any other way. The best part was how by the next hair-pin bend the signs just stopped. We laughed at the thought process that went into this amazingly Hip articulation, all the way to the nest stop.

We were now in ‘Propaah’ Nilgiris. The pine, firs and eucalyptus everywhere showed it. It had begun to drizzle as we landed at our first stop before climbing into The Udhagamandalam (Ooty) Sub-Division. Koraikundhah, the flat valley check post where we halted to get tourist passes into the Nilgiris, was overrun by a heavy shower leaving behind traces of a washed out river bed. It gave the first glimpse of what beauty awaited us further up. Aunty Priyamvadaa noticed some water feasting bird eat from the mud on the bed of the stream , and for the first time I realised how much the whole Periyapattinam Kudumbam was into bird watching. Uncle had gone to fight over some fee we had to pay that came up to Rs.700, but eventually we had to pay it as we were travelling in a tourist vehicle.

The ride up from then on was sheer pleasure, as we slowly drove into Ooty town, first crossing Indunagar, Home to the famous INDU ( the only indigenous Photo film industry in India), a suburb of Ooty. Slowly we drove into Finger-Post and then into the Ooty bus stand. It was now direction asking time. I asked the first person I came across, in pure Kovai Tamizh, for directions. The way he responded so courteously and politely, shocked everyone else. Little did they know that we Nilgiris people are brought up like that. I felt so proud of being brought up there again. On receiving directions, we continued to Fern hill, (detour on the way all round the town , due to a faulty road, that we were informed about by some over friendly locals) where we were to go down hill on the road to a town called Emerald (Emeraltu), which would lead us to our destination for that day i.e. Avalaanchee (Avalaanjee). The road led us to the infamous ‘Fern Hill Palace’ hotel, and I noticed Kannada on one of the sign boards! (Almost impossible in Tamil Nadu) It was the Karnataka State Guest House, and then we continued further down hill into Palladaa. We saw the New Campus of Good Shepherds International School and were quite impressed by it.

We soon were out of the Ooty town limits, and got into the ugliest stretch of land I’ve ever passed through in the Nilgiris. The hill sides were brown and destroyed by plantations carried out in Jhooming style. It spoilt the whole green look that the Nilgiris usually offered. Thankfully, the patch ended, and tea plantations began. That was a real relief. A very boring ride down hill then brought us at last to Emerald. The town, nothing like its amazing sounding name, is just a typical sleepy hamlet of the Nilgiris. We stopped there for a wonderfully long tea, of Mozhakaa (Green Chilli) Bajjis, Bondaas, and delicious Nilgiri tea.

The stop however exceeded way beyond what we meant it to be, and the sun soon set. In partial darkness we left the cosy town of Emerald and continued further downstream, crossing over a small stream that ran into the Emerald Reservoir. The stream had overflowed due to the recent rains and so we were soon stuck in the most amazing slush puddles I’ve ever come across. The puddles were deep and our Qualis refused to budge. The driver began showing his true colours then. More concerned about the condition of his vehicle, he began grumbling. We just couldn’t let this small obstacle come in our way now. We were just 5kms from Avalaanchee. So we got out of the Qualis, and walked the whole stretch of the Slush puddle. Our first adventure had just begun. It was fun to get ourselves all muddy while we had to help aunty and Deepti over the puddles. The jeep began to move, and well the rest is history!!!

We travelled through what seemed like thick wattle (a plantation tree extensively grown by the British, for it use in the Tanning Industry) thickets. But none of us would know for sure as the road was dark and well the driver kept bugging us complaining all the while.

We reached the guesthouse at last, following a sign post on the road. We reached this Guest house, and suddenly uncle realised that it didn’t look like the original place we were supposed to stay in , it was I guest house all the same. It looked new, and well haunted, as Deepti claimed. It did. We gave up trying to read, or hope for any luck and so thought we’d reverse and take the other road. As we reversed however our guardian angel, a forest guard saw the light and came walking towards us. He showed us the guest house we were looking for, and well we were impressed, to figure out that it was just beside the structure we were standing in front off ( apparently they had built a new guest house) : )

We soon camped in, and I must say the guest house was amazing even for a lodge-hopper like me. I loved the way in which the lodge was built, very typical brit forest dwelling. Three beautiful bedrooms with wooden floors, fireplaces all over. Typical animal skull hangings all over, a bull skull in the front room (which Ebbie had to inquire on its authenticity), and well you know that kind of an ambience. The Ranger was still not sure on whether to believe we were the actual guests, so he went to call up the Chief Ranger for that forest. Better for us! We waited, and well my leg was the most to be pulled, just because I was staring at the rules of the residence. Soon he returned all smiles, and thus began the best trip I’ve ever had!

He was now over indulgent, he figured out uncle was a high ranking official, and now he had to impress him (the joys of Indian Governance), we soon got down to figuring what we’d have for dinner. Uncle Dilip, as we had started expecting by now was well prepared, and opened or ‘LIFE-BAG’ [it shall be referred to as such henceforth], and took out a 4-pack of Maggi Noodles, and one after came out, Dhal, Rice, Masala, MTR Mixes: Rava Idly, Khara Baath, a loaf of bread, Jam and god knows what else… I WAS SURPRISED!! Uncle smiles and just says, “You always have to be prepared”. Man I learnt my listen, even such a high ranking person, believed in ‘Chance’. Anyway, if that wasn’t the case we would have starved all night. Suddenly, the same ranger offers us a choice, if we wanted to stay in the new Forest Guest House… Yupp the very one, we thought was haunted. He led us to the new place while aunty caught her breath. IT WAS AMAZING!!

If one could ever find Five Star class accommodation in the middle of nowhere it was HERE! The Guest house was two bed-roomed with bathrooms (avec WC), and believe me the whole house was tiled, and the drawing room, don’t even ask... Three separate lounge sofas. The dining room was equipped with a state of the art TV and an adjoining Dish TV connection. I was in ninth heaven. Purr-fect place to spend a night after such a rigorous journey (I know how hypocritical of me it is to want a Bangalore haven in the middle of nowhere, but it’s just that I wasn’t expecting it, so when I did get it, it was more than I could ever ask for). We shifted in to the new residence, as fast as bees entering their hive when it rains.

The Bedrooms took my breath away, with the king sized beds, and the pretty (totally) bed sheets, from the Ilumino range from ‘Bombay Dyeing’ (as in they glow in the dark). I quickly opened out my clothes and ran in for a quick bath. The warm water on my body, I can never ask for more. I find warm baths, so refreshing, it leaves my skin glowing. As I walked out after my bath, I was overwhelmed to see the sky above me. I sat on the dew wet bench, and looked up into the sky. Deepti and Ebbie soon joined me. We began star watching, spotted the small Dipper very fast and Leo too, but, Orion deluded both Deepti and me. Aunty soon joined us, and we looked into the dark surroundings. It was so freaky as the land on which our Guest House stood overlooked something, so a few metres from our bench, the land gave way, and believe me we didn’t know to what (Ebbie told me yesterday that he thought the lake was below that plunge, no wonder he was so freaked out on sitting on the edge). We tried calling Hari, and got him at last. Aunt’s heart skipped a beat as she spoke to her pet : ).

Dinner was ready and so we went in and sat around a table to eat our Noodles, Dhal and Rice. I must say the cook was a genius, I loved his version of Maggi Noodles, filled with Onions and other Indian spices. He even switched the TV on for us. It was quite hilarious to think of us now, sitting in the middle of a thick jungle, watching ‘Headlines Today’, and eating Maggi NoodlesJ. The dinner was followed by the biggest surprise I’d seen till then. Uncle brought out this tubular map case and unravelled something I would call a treasure trove of maps…. “I gazed and gazed with little thought, what geeks of me these Ebbie and Deepti thought…” I just couldn’t take my eyes off those gems. Detailed to the very inch, restricted, well etched, Survey of India maps (What I’d do for a set of those… wa-wa). We tracked out our routes for the next days, and we soon gave up as the boredom was showing too obviously on Deepti and Ebbie’s faces.

It was around 9 by now, so Aunty and Uncle went to bed, so we went to bed too, not before we played several games of UNO. Is it just me, or is it normal for people to pair against me when I play with them, because soon, Deepti and Ebbie had taken vows to make me lose, and began working at it together. Soon I was losing every single game [to their utter satisfaction], and time flew by. We realised it was getting late, and tried hitting sack, not before we had several teddy bear wars between Ebbie and Deepti. Ebbie couldn’t stand Deepti’s Teddy’s from the moment he set his eyes on them. Anyway we were soon in bed, alarms wound, rather set on our mobiles, for 5:00am, 5:30am, and 6:00am, (all three of us carried our mobiles), and we fell asleep with Deepti’s voice somewhere in the distance complaining about our bed sheets having more illuminos than hers. The night at the ‘haunted’ Guest House was a truly peaceful one.

I’m sure I would have had as much to write about the evening journey, but darkness blocked all visibility, and thus I lost on most of what I could have seen on the stretch from Emerald to Avalaanchee, which I assume was very beautiful. The extended stop at Emerald seemed to have played a nasty trick on us after all. As Uncle Dilip said “Try to reach you destination wherever it maybe, before sundown”. That shall henceforth be my principle while visiting any area; the light makes things so much easier : ).

The Driver However spent the night at the cosy brit cottage we were supposed to stay in ALL ALONE!!

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

The Romal Awards (c) A Befitting entree...

The Romal Foundation was started on 11 March 2006, when its visionary, M. Romal, decided to award those special people around him, for their feeble yet noble attempts at making the world a better place... The first thing he did was install a set of 4 awards to Honour the upcoming PJ'ers and Sarcasmo's in our vincinity friend circles... He thus began " The Romal Awards ", to facilitate these very people..

The Romal Awards (C)

I Romal, convenor of these awards hereby declare, on this the Eleventh day of the Fourth month (being as per the Gregorian calendar; the month dedicated to Mars... i.e... March), during the early summer of the year 2006, the 16th year in the twenty first century of human existence on this planet Earth, that these awards have been created to honour brave souls that I have come across ( personally) in their feeble yet noble attempts of being the most fabulicioustic Sarcasmo's or PJ'ers in their respective friend circles, all over the world.
I seek to honour their courage to stand out, and their willingness to be different. May the gods of humour, (who even offended Bacchus ), be at their sides. Peace to all Humanity!

The Winners For the Month of March 2006:

Category 1: "P J Rrani" : Shrimati/Kumari. Navdha Dhingra
Category 2: "PJ Rraja" : Shrimaan/Kumaran. Shreyas S
Category 3: "Sarcy Rrani" : Shrimati/Kumari. Bhavya G
Category 4: "Sarcy Rraja" : Shrimaan/Kumaran Joshua Muyiwa

The Winners are now officially notified, by his excellency The Convenor, M.Romal, that they will receive their honorary certificates by the end of the month, personally delivered by The Convenor himself.

On receiving their Notifications of being chosen as winners, here are their replies : )

Bhavya G (Winner in Category 3):
" Thank you so much... so unexpected, dont even have a speech ready... Hmmm... i would like to thank ma parents for havin me, all ma friends for beleivin in me, Romal, ( qui est moi! ) for having an award like this, Phani ma.... constant source of support ( phew! ) with whom i was always at my sarcastic best... Congrats to the other winners of the other categories... to my source of motivation, Ms. Sheena, beacuse of whom i knew what competition is... ah... im so overwhelmed i really cant think now... ah.. Thank You All.. Love You!! "

Navdha Dhingra (Winner in Category 1):
" On this asspeesious occasion, i would like to thank my fellow mates who've been my inspiration throughout and without whom my PJ's wouldnt be possible, i would thank Bhavya and Romal ( il est moi aussi! ) specially! SOB! I Love You Guys !!... Not forgetting the entire PJEng fraternity... here's to all the sprouted and not so sprouted.. err.. things, Golf Balls, Bones and Knees, Whiskers ( and other body parts) and other animate and inanimate objects that inspired me.. Cheers!! "

Shreyas S (Winner in Category 2):
" Oooh... I dunno what to say, i would like to thank my mom, who has stood by me through all the good and bad jokes. I would like to thank the Jury ( qui est moi, aussi! ) whose utter joblessness will be the butt of my future jokes... Love You Alll... Muah! "

Well you can be part of this list of honorary awardees.. all YOU have to do is behave in the most outrageously or fabuliciously PJ or Sarcy manner, the next time you see our Jury walking around, Its THAT simple!! and who knows you could be on this list next time... Just like that Voila! Your the winner !!! Easy Huh.. !! so pass the word around.. and help us in this noble yet feeble endeavour : )


If you would like to contribute , monetarily or creatively to the noble cause please mail the above email id or mail our convenor at ... We would also like you to send in nominations or similar award categories, which you think will Honour these brave young people : )