Ripples on the brain

Girish, I must tell you. I have read this post probably a thousand times and still laugh at it every time. Amazingly written - your literary skills and MBA vocabulary were probably at their peak at that time.

My version of what happened around this time two years ago is here. Time flies!!!

Even back in Chennai, funny moments are not very infrequent during Avani Avittam. That is why I normally prefer performing the rituals in a temple rather than with a help of a vaathiyar at home. In the temple, there is always an ample scope of finding the funny maamas - the ones that don’t know how and when the pavitram is to be worn, the ones who repeat achamanam, or om booho when the vaathiyaar utters them (rather than saying the mantram itself), the ones who say the mantram a trifle earlier than the others or say the familiar phrases in the mantram loudly along with the vaathiyar instead of following him (and feel smug in the midst of others who just repeat them), those that don’t understand the sequence of the mantrams (i.e. upakarmam, brahma yagyam, kandaraishim tharpanam, vedarambam etc.), those that make a mess of the new poonal (sacred thread) given to them (usually it needs to be unknotted before being worn, but most of them create additional knots in their attempts to unknot it!) and those that don’t realize when the ritual ends and check with others to confirm everything for the day is over . Usually the enthusiasm levels are higher initially and they drop after the first 10 minutes after which most of the souls only note the change of the mantram sets. The decibel levels reach the crescendo when “Yagyopaveetham paramam…” is uttered, when everybody realizes that it is mantram for actually wearing the new poonal (but even there some people make the mistake of holding the wrong hand up etc. ), and then usually drop for the rest of the ritual.

I usually go to the same temple every year and spot the same set of crowd at the same batches (there are three batches in the morning usually) - the ones that need to go to office and school come early and rest join the 7 am or the 8 am batch. Back home there’s always a host of sweets and special dishes to be relished!

Happy Avani Avittam and Gayathri Japam!

I found this item pretty shocking:

…senior advocate K Parasaran, appearing for the Tamil Nadu Government said: “They (upper caste) dominated for centuries and now they should suffer.”

[Given the track record of CNN-IBN to manufacture news, I don’t know if this is entirely true (and I couldn’t confirm this with other newspapers/channels). ]

So, officially does TN state that its reservation policy is more against a community rather than for a class of people? I don’t know how a sernior advocate could make such an argument. Is there a legal basis for such an argument? I don’t know how such a statement was made in the apex court of the country!

…was my most favourite TV programme in the US. Whenever I see the programme, I get reminded of its poor, crappy copy - “Jodi No.1″ in Vijay TV back home. There is actually no comparison between the intensity of the dance that happens in the two programmes. Each of the dancers in “So you think…” were absolutely athletic, nimble, and graceful. The choreographers too were awesome and I could actually see the difference between the different dance forms on display though I don’t know any of those. Moreover, there was less of the artificial asides - the so-called close ups into the practice sessions etc.- in the US version.

One of the main reasons I loved the programme was, of course, Cat Deeley. This tall and beautiful host with her British accent (for which I always have a great fascination) made the programme very lively.

By the way, Big Girls don’t cry by Fergie is a song I picked up from one of the FM channels that played the song almost everyday.

Am I some kind of a weirdo attractor or what?

I wait for an auto (rickshaw) on MG Road in Madras. My destination is Eekkaduthangal, near Guindy which should cost me around Rs.75. Generally, my strategy is that I do the “price discovery” with the initial 3-4 autos. So, this time all of them ask me for Rs.130-140 and I start with Rs.60, which I know is somewhat less. I decide that the right fare (or atleast the one I will pay) should be between Rs. 70 and Rs.80. Then comes this autowala clad in a blue shirt. He looks more sophisticated than an usual autowala. I tell him the destination, he asks me for Rs.60. I am mildly shocked, manage to conceal it, check with him the destination and the price again and board the auto. Anyway, the auto begins its journey.

On the way, I notice that the autowala is unusually polite with the other road users and tell myself that I should commend him for it at the end of the journey. Just after he drives for 100-200 metres, he gets a call on his mobile. Considering it was at a signal (and the fine for talking on the mobile while driving is Rs.1000) he doesn’t answer the call. The mobile rings again after he crosses the signal. This time, he asks for excuse, stops the vehicle and answers the call. He talks sufficiently loud on the phone, so that I can hear them.

[I have to reproduce the conversation in Tamil to get the right effect. Read the conversation in Kamal’s ishtyle as you proceed.]

“Yen enna thirumbi thirumbi call panreenga, naa thaan varennu solren ille?… naa enna ATM carda vechchu irukken. ennala enna mudiyumo athe ellam senjittu irukken… [in an emotional tone] en kitte ippothaikku ivlo thaan irukku [saying this, he dramatically takes money out from his shirt pocket. I wonder why he would do it while talking over phone, unless it was to show me]… kadai 10:30 manikku thaan thorakka mudiyum, nethu rathiri lernthu continuousa auto ottikittu irukken…ippothaikku ayiram rooba thaan irukku. paisa kedacha aaspathiri varen, illena suicide pannikuven” [Translation: Why do repeatedly call me, didn’t I tell you I will come? I don’t have an ATM card. I’m doing whatever I can…I have only “this” much money. The shop opens only at 10:30, I’m driving this auto all night…Right now I just have Rs.1000, if I get money I’ll come, otherwise I will commit suicide]

I am amused, but again conceal it and have a straight face. He starts the auto and for sometime, I assume, waits for a response from me. I pretend as if nothing happened.

Then he starts:
“Aaspathri la en wife saar, delivery, caesarean, 6000 ruba venum. love marriage (people in Chennai have this funny habit. In another instance, an young tenant was moving into my brother-in-law’s apartment. He was married, he said and showed his wife’s photo in his wallet to my brother-in-law. That was okay to me, considering tradionally landlords in Chennai don’t prefer bachelors. “Love marriage sir”, he then beamed with pride . To me, it is so funny how Chennaivasis have no problem sharing such information with absolute strangers. I digress). Adutthavanukku help panna manasu thaan saar mukyam, ellarum Tirupathi hundialla poi ayiram ayirama poduvaanga, aana kashta padara oruthanukku help panna mattanga (by this time, he was driving entirely looking at me through the rear view mirror and not at the road. I decide to get down as soon as possible) 11:30 am kkula Rs.6000 venum saar. marundu mathirai vaanganum. neenga enga saar vela pakkareenga?” [Translation: My wife’s at the hospital for delivery, caesarean. We need Rs.6000. Ours was a love marriage. You need a good heart to help people. People generally deposit money at the temple hundis, but do not help others. I need money before 11:30. Where do you work?]

I don’t work here, I say. Then, he does the obvious - ask me for money, help in buying medicines. I would have probably believed his story to a certain extent, had he not over-acted. He asks me about the safety of caesarean operations. I tell him I think they are safe. He then asks me if he can drop me somewhere in between. I tell him yes. He drops me and asks me to pay him whatever I can. Considering we didn’t even travel for 2 kms, I pay him what is due. He complains for sometime and then heads back to the same spot where I boarded the auto.

Ippdilaam kooda nadakkuthu!!! I wonder if the fact that the initial fare he quoted (Rs. 60) was the same as the fare I initially used for bargain with other autowalas was a coincidence!