My very-own-very-late Valentines Day story.
Just another friday night at KR Puram Railway Station. The train pulls in. The people try to get in as quickly as possible. I laboriously pick up my luggage and walk in. And we are away.
I dump my bag under the seat. Fasten up the middle berth. Bring the windows down. Plug in to the music and lie down in the lower berth.
And the song goes,
Aval varuvala. En pallamaana ullam vellamaaga aval varuvaala?
And then I was slowly drifting out of consciousness only to be awakened by that.
That thing that caused quite a furor during the Thiruvilayadal times.
That thing whose questionable natural scent was the reason for the debate between Nakeerar and You-Know-Who.
That thing which caused the opening of the proverbial third eye.
That thing which helps priyanka chopra weave out of her kung fu opponent's grasp in that Clinic Plus Ad.
That thing which was my first tamil swear word.
Yes.
I am talking about human hair. In particular about women's hair.
A lot of friends I know have a thing for long hair. I mean girls with long hair. Although I'm not into it as much as those guys, I'm definitely not averse to it. But that was not how I first reacted when that thing first tickled me.
A piece of advice, Just because a long black hairy(obviously!) thing is in your hand it doesn't mean you have to scramble out of your seat as soon as possible. Especially valid in case you are in the very cramped lower berth of a moving train.
I don't know if my waking up let the light in or the banging of my head cleared it but somehow my mind cleared enough to realize what it was. It was the flowing locks of a woman's hair or the more eloquently worded tamil koondhal, which had snaked through the gap alongside the middle berth and fallen into my very scared hands.
So I get up (without hitting my head this time) and look at her.
Well, she was no sameera reddy. But who am I kidding. I did not have the strength of a thousand elephants. She looked refined and pretty cute in her own koondhal-nonchalantly-tossed-aside-to-the-lower-berth way. My request to get her flowing tresses out of my sleeping quarters were worded thus,
You... Hair.... Down(Hand Pointing)....Take....Please(More of an afterthought)
Economic word usage I agree, but not very elegant is it?
She looked startled for a second. Then comprehends. Pulls the offending object(s?) out of the gap. Lets it lie beside her. Smiles a sheepish sorry.
I wave the apology off and get back to my now koondhal-free lower berth. Only after lying down do I realize how I'd missed a simple opportunity to strike up a conversation with her. I thought to myself there's always tomorrow and went to sleep.
Tomorrow did come. And I found my long haired almost-valentine sitting opposite me with her very own valentine from the other middle berth.
And that is the story of How I met Her Hair.
P.S: True Story. Obviously-exaggerated details are the author's entitlement considering his very poor luck.
26 February, 2009
17 February, 2009
When Bangalore screamed
First things first, this is not a review of Iron Maiden's performance at the Palace Grounds. Primarily because I'm smart enough to know that any adjective that I use will only come out jaded and cliched. So I will stick to doling out advice for the newb who is gonna watch his maiden concert.(I know. That was a PJ)
Get yourself a pair of really tough sneakers. Do not dare enter the staging area with just your sandals on. No matter how difficult it is to find footwear for you, get something. There are around a gazillion feet out there jumping, hopping, kicking, moshing, skipping and they all have to land somewhere. And more importantly those feet are not sandal covered like your puny feet but they are all wearing shoes. Apart from all this, there's also gonna be a lot of pushing and shoving going on near the stage. And at some point you will find yourself on the ground and you will soon see a lot more of other peoples sneakers, which should help you choose a good pair for the future, if you make it out alive that is.
Besides, if you're gonna die, you might as well die with your boots on! :)
Do not reach too early. Too early is defined as the scheduled start of events. Any energy you use, out on the sun waiting for the headlining band to come out, is energy wasted. Reach the venue at T+(4 to 5) hrs. Maiden came out at around 19:50. We reached at 12:00. That is Bad. And I say 4-5 and not flat out 7 because the bands just before the main act are usually good.
As was the case with Parikrama, I'm not very musically literate but even I know that the violin leads were brilliant. Apart from that what was commendable was the fact that they knew that the crowd was restless waiting for Maiden, so they used that to their advantage. That brings me to the most important part of the concert apart from the band, the Mob.
The mob is made of people like you and me. But collectively its an entity of its own. When it all begins, there is some gentle ribbing with all the other performers, and some of the taunts are pretty clever too.
Like when Lauren Harris (daughter of Maiden bassist Steve Harris) came out on stage to perform,some one started singing Bring your Daughter to the Slaughter. It was pretty funny. For some time, we all sang Bring Me your Daughter, Fetch Your Daughter...Bring Me your Daughter, Fetch Your Daughter...So the taunts can range from this to the usually used medially located finger approach and other such gestures.
Its not just the crowd that can sink low, one guy (I think he was from Cyanide Serenity. Not sure), said this as soon as he came on to the stage, "How many of you here hate Bush as much as I do". That was a cheap shot. I know its difficult to get the crowd going when all they want to see is Maiden. But this was sinking too low. It was almost as bad as Godwin's Law. But the mob responded to this as well.
This is one of many many other stunts that the bands tried to woo the crowd. One could understand their plight and to be fair, apart from all the Death Metal/Nu Metal/watever-it-is-that-its-called songs that they sung, the remaining were quite OK.
The rest is routine. The rest of the 2 hours you spend waiting, must be over in a haze of over-prized-food, gawking (there are lots of weird things to look at), vaporised nicotine and gentle swaying to the beat of the other bands.
And then there was MAIDEN.
I want to end this right here (and might probably include the rest in another post) by saying this about how I feel about what followed
I lived alone my mind was blank
I needed time to think to get the memories from my mind
What did I see? Could I believe? That what I saw
that night was real and not just fantasy
-The Number of The Beast by Iron Maiden
Get yourself a pair of really tough sneakers. Do not dare enter the staging area with just your sandals on. No matter how difficult it is to find footwear for you, get something. There are around a gazillion feet out there jumping, hopping, kicking, moshing, skipping and they all have to land somewhere. And more importantly those feet are not sandal covered like your puny feet but they are all wearing shoes. Apart from all this, there's also gonna be a lot of pushing and shoving going on near the stage. And at some point you will find yourself on the ground and you will soon see a lot more of other peoples sneakers, which should help you choose a good pair for the future, if you make it out alive that is.
Besides, if you're gonna die, you might as well die with your boots on! :)
Do not reach too early. Too early is defined as the scheduled start of events. Any energy you use, out on the sun waiting for the headlining band to come out, is energy wasted. Reach the venue at T+(4 to 5) hrs. Maiden came out at around 19:50. We reached at 12:00. That is Bad. And I say 4-5 and not flat out 7 because the bands just before the main act are usually good.
As was the case with Parikrama, I'm not very musically literate but even I know that the violin leads were brilliant. Apart from that what was commendable was the fact that they knew that the crowd was restless waiting for Maiden, so they used that to their advantage. That brings me to the most important part of the concert apart from the band, the Mob.
The mob is made of people like you and me. But collectively its an entity of its own. When it all begins, there is some gentle ribbing with all the other performers, and some of the taunts are pretty clever too.
Like when Lauren Harris (daughter of Maiden bassist Steve Harris) came out on stage to perform,some one started singing Bring your Daughter to the Slaughter. It was pretty funny. For some time, we all sang Bring Me your Daughter, Fetch Your Daughter...Bring Me your Daughter, Fetch Your Daughter...So the taunts can range from this to the usually used medially located finger approach and other such gestures.
Its not just the crowd that can sink low, one guy (I think he was from Cyanide Serenity. Not sure), said this as soon as he came on to the stage, "How many of you here hate Bush as much as I do". That was a cheap shot. I know its difficult to get the crowd going when all they want to see is Maiden. But this was sinking too low. It was almost as bad as Godwin's Law. But the mob responded to this as well.
This is one of many many other stunts that the bands tried to woo the crowd. One could understand their plight and to be fair, apart from all the Death Metal/Nu Metal/watever-it-is-that-its-called songs that they sung, the remaining were quite OK.
The rest is routine. The rest of the 2 hours you spend waiting, must be over in a haze of over-prized-food, gawking (there are lots of weird things to look at), vaporised nicotine and gentle swaying to the beat of the other bands.
And then there was MAIDEN.
I want to end this right here (and might probably include the rest in another post) by saying this about how I feel about what followed
I lived alone my mind was blank
I needed time to think to get the memories from my mind
What did I see? Could I believe? That what I saw
that night was real and not just fantasy
-The Number of The Beast by Iron Maiden
12 February, 2009
Calling Honey - 044 26XXXXXX
As a sequel to the earlier post I thought I'd include something on what you should never call me.
My friends and I, we are, what you would call, secure men, meaning we are pretty confident about our orientation and inclination. Thus when we interlace our conversations with the occasional chellam or bujji or vooochi or kutti it is not a cause for alarm but should be seen as a representation of our very secure manliness. I am well aware of the fact that the usual greetings are machi or maapla or in rare cases sagala, but we are different.
At least that was how it was until a few weeks ago.
One fine Sunday morning, a member of the secure men brotherhood decided to call me up and ask about my plans for that day.
His greeting - 'Hi Honey'.
The person who picked up the phone - my unwitting father.
And since we are so secure about our manhood, we usually don't even wait to make sure its really 'our honey' at the other end. The dolt repeated the offending greeting two - three times. By which time I had realized something was wrong after seeing my father's reaction. Finally my father inquired as to who it was and then 'my honey' on the other side caught on.
He gave it to me, saying that the male caller was repeated asking for someone by the name 'honey' before asking for me. And then he went away still trying to make sure his ears were unclogged and that he'd really heard the word 'honey'. I just hope my family don't jump to any irrational conclusions regarding my inclination. Assuring them about that, is not a job that I want to be doing.
That said, I would like to assure all concerned readers that I'm as straight as a (looking for analogy) ... hmm ... as a (still looking)...
Sachin Tendulkar straight drive off Brett Lee at the SCG.
Now if my better half, if you are out there somewhere, a word of advice
During our future courtship, Never ever ... ever call me honey.
P.S:
1. How I wish this were a work of fiction? But this is too stupid to make up. Yup, its as Hetfield used to sing, Sad but True.
2. And the caller, pretty guessable. If you are part of my circle, that is.
My friends and I, we are, what you would call, secure men, meaning we are pretty confident about our orientation and inclination. Thus when we interlace our conversations with the occasional chellam or bujji or vooochi or kutti it is not a cause for alarm but should be seen as a representation of our very secure manliness. I am well aware of the fact that the usual greetings are machi or maapla or in rare cases sagala, but we are different.
At least that was how it was until a few weeks ago.
One fine Sunday morning, a member of the secure men brotherhood decided to call me up and ask about my plans for that day.
His greeting - 'Hi Honey'.
The person who picked up the phone - my unwitting father.
And since we are so secure about our manhood, we usually don't even wait to make sure its really 'our honey' at the other end. The dolt repeated the offending greeting two - three times. By which time I had realized something was wrong after seeing my father's reaction. Finally my father inquired as to who it was and then 'my honey' on the other side caught on.
He gave it to me, saying that the male caller was repeated asking for someone by the name 'honey' before asking for me. And then he went away still trying to make sure his ears were unclogged and that he'd really heard the word 'honey'. I just hope my family don't jump to any irrational conclusions regarding my inclination. Assuring them about that, is not a job that I want to be doing.
That said, I would like to assure all concerned readers that I'm as straight as a (looking for analogy) ... hmm ... as a (still looking)...
Sachin Tendulkar straight drive off Brett Lee at the SCG.
Now if my better half, if you are out there somewhere, a word of advice
During our future courtship, Never ever ... ever call me honey.
P.S:
1. How I wish this were a work of fiction? But this is too stupid to make up. Yup, its as Hetfield used to sing, Sad but True.
2. And the caller, pretty guessable. If you are part of my circle, that is.
09 February, 2009
Just call me Money
Before you begin there are 2 things that you should know about me.
1. I don't like people messing up my name. Come on, how difficult is it to say Manigandan. Pretty basic phonemes if u ask me. Ma as in multiple ni as in nicknames ga as in guy and dan as in well ... just done. Its that simple.
I've never had trouble with people given prefixes though. I've been called K Mani Ko Mani Ku Mani M Mani F Mani P Mani and I'm OK with all that. I know that my name lends itself well to being prefixed. So I don't mind that at all. No really, I don't.
What I don't stand is people calling me Manikandhan, Manikanten etc
2. The second thing is that I'm a pretty big fan of Iron Maiden. So much so that my alarm tone is Hallowed be Thy Name.
Now we are a go. One fine evening, I was bored. I mean really bored not just the look-at-the cricinfo-page-every-5-minutes bored but bang-your-head against-the-wall bored. I decided to skip down to have some snacks.
I was minding my own business, walking to the snack counter in our IT Park, when I saw her.
Maria.
(fruit cherry'a... Nee variya... Emailil luv...) Too much too soon I said to myself. BTW shes a fellow employee from Europe.
And then I just stood there and reasoned a few things out with myself. I've always been telling my friends, albeit with false hope, that I'm gonna marry a girl of European descent as their average height is much higher than that of their Indian cousins. So I that what the hell. I'm gonna do it. Also she was wearing heels which meant more time for me to make a quick getaway in case things didn't work out as I planned.
With this in mind I walked up to her and said, "Hi Maria". I saw the glint of recognition in her eyes. So just as she was trying to read my name out of my ID Card (Man... I ...) I interrupted her and said, "Just call me Mani, u know as in Money" (I make a dollar symbol with my hand).
Oh... OK. Hi Mani.
Good. Now we were on first name basis.
Praying to the almighty to give me the required strength, I blurted out,
Would u like to grab some coffee?
And to my greatest surprise, She said 'Yes. That would be great'
Just as we walked off into The Sunset (no I mean literally there's a coffee shop by that name) someone's cell phone went off singing,
Take me away
Somewhere far away
Beyond the sun
When suddenly it morphed into this,
I was waiting in my cold cell
When the bell begins to chime
Reflecting on my past life
And it doesn't have much time
Oh crap.
P.S:
1. This is purely a work of fiction. None of it ever happened. Ever.
2. The song Take me away is from the Vodafone elevator ad.
1. I don't like people messing up my name. Come on, how difficult is it to say Manigandan. Pretty basic phonemes if u ask me. Ma as in multiple ni as in nicknames ga as in guy and dan as in well ... just done. Its that simple.
I've never had trouble with people given prefixes though. I've been called K Mani Ko Mani Ku Mani M Mani F Mani P Mani and I'm OK with all that. I know that my name lends itself well to being prefixed. So I don't mind that at all. No really, I don't.
What I don't stand is people calling me Manikandhan, Manikanten etc
2. The second thing is that I'm a pretty big fan of Iron Maiden. So much so that my alarm tone is Hallowed be Thy Name.
Now we are a go. One fine evening, I was bored. I mean really bored not just the look-at-the cricinfo-page-every-5-minutes bored but bang-your-head against-the-wall bored. I decided to skip down to have some snacks.
I was minding my own business, walking to the snack counter in our IT Park, when I saw her.
Maria.
(fruit cherry'a... Nee variya... Emailil luv...) Too much too soon I said to myself. BTW shes a fellow employee from Europe.
And then I just stood there and reasoned a few things out with myself. I've always been telling my friends, albeit with false hope, that I'm gonna marry a girl of European descent as their average height is much higher than that of their Indian cousins. So I that what the hell. I'm gonna do it. Also she was wearing heels which meant more time for me to make a quick getaway in case things didn't work out as I planned.
With this in mind I walked up to her and said, "Hi Maria". I saw the glint of recognition in her eyes. So just as she was trying to read my name out of my ID Card (Man... I ...) I interrupted her and said, "Just call me Mani, u know as in Money" (I make a dollar symbol with my hand).
Oh... OK. Hi Mani.
Good. Now we were on first name basis.
Praying to the almighty to give me the required strength, I blurted out,
Would u like to grab some coffee?
And to my greatest surprise, She said 'Yes. That would be great'
Just as we walked off into The Sunset (no I mean literally there's a coffee shop by that name) someone's cell phone went off singing,
Take me away
Somewhere far away
Beyond the sun
When suddenly it morphed into this,
I was waiting in my cold cell
When the bell begins to chime
Reflecting on my past life
And it doesn't have much time
Oh crap.
P.S:
1. This is purely a work of fiction. None of it ever happened. Ever.
2. The song Take me away is from the Vodafone elevator ad.
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