Start, Camera, Action

I was on a lift and as is usual when I am on a lift (by self), I started singing, acting, dancing, talking. “I wonder how, I wonder why, yesterday you told me about the blue blue sky and all that I can see…” I sang.

“Is just a yellow lemon tree,” chipped in fancy pal Jim. We went on a chorus: “I am turning my head up and down, I am turna turna turna turna turning it round, and all that I can see… is just another lemon tree.”

“That wasn’t too bad was it?”

“Absolutely not. Absolutely nothing”

“Uh ah… is everything alright?” – in singing mode again. “Absolutely nothing,” Jim sang. We had our tough guy expressions on which meant a lot of frowning and teeth clattering – for some reason.

“What would I do without you Jim?”

“Very little Miss Cris, very little.”

It was our floor. I knew there was something odd as soon as I stepped out. Everyone was staring at me. Some of their faces looked familiar. Finally I reached a room where I saw Prithvi Raj. Ouch! I was on a shooting location, interrupting a scene. I ran back to the lift. “Oh no oh no oh shit shit shit”

“Cris you are using the s-word.”

“Shut up Jim. Aww gee that was so embarrassing. Do you think they will arrest me?”

“For being in a shooting location? Nahhh. Well it is a sort of trespass and considering that they took a whole floor for this very purpose… maybe they will give you a fine… hmm Cris I think they will arrest you”

“Forget I asked”

The lift opened, the security caught me and took me right back up.

This was it, I was going to be put in jail. “But I didn’t do anything wrong. There was no board saying no entry,” I was nervous.

When the lift opened director Priyadarshan was waiting. “Priyadarshan,” I hissed.

“Glad you recognized. Would you please step in?”

“Listen Mr P, I had no idea. Look I am sorry alright, but you can’t really hold me up like this. I am a journalist!”

“We were towards the end of a long scene when you interrupted. So we will have to do the whole scene again or explain your presence.”

“Oh. Does that mean I should pay a fine? I know the rules! I am a journalist!” I blurted out. I looked at Jim for support. The coward was hiding behind me.

At this point Prithvi joined and I reddened.

“Young lady…” he began.

“I am not young”

“Ohh. Ok Miss…”

“Everybody knows I am not married,” I sighed turning to Jim. Jim smirked.

“It is a big menace shooting the whole thing again”

“But you can’t arrest me for that!”

“Would you mind if we keep the scene that way?”

I reflected. Cool, finally my big chance to “act”. “No I wouldn’t. Wait let me think (had to play hard to get). Yeah it should be fine.”

“It should be, considering the skills we observed in surveillance camera when you were in the lift.”

At this point I woke up. Actually I woke up a long time ago. And willfully daydreamed from where I stopped. Jim is still smirking, the idiot.

Brothers Karamazov and Ajayan Sir

“Where are you?” Ajayan Sir, in his long jubba and trying-to-look-serious eyes peering above his specs, would ask every morning when we meet in office. I smile and reply “Alyosha had a long talk with Ivan.”

Ajayan Sir’s eyes would lose all the seriousness it mustered and brighten up. “What a scene! And Dmitry… what a character don’t you think?”

Yes I do.

It was one of the most wonderful gifts I got. Brothers Karamazov. Ajayan Sir, who kept showering praises on the book and rebuked me for not having read it, one day placed it on my hands. I first gathered he was lending it. But then he said he bought a copy to gift me. But alas if I were half as expressive as Dostoyevsky I could have told him what it meant to me. And what it meant to be talking about it everyday. He’d tell me “I ask my daughter the same question. Where are you? And her mother has no idea what we are talking about.”

The book took me into it for all the three long weeks I have been with it. This is the problem with big novels and storylines. We are in the midst of it for so long it is difficult to fathom we are not anymore. I can still feel surrounded by the Karamazov brothers on all sides, different scenes flashing across my eyes… the crazy and funny father running around, making a mess of everything… the innocent but violent Mitya, the indifferent but thoughtful Ivan, the all too angelic (too good for my taste) Alyosha…. And the other characters. I was disappointed with both the women characters – Grushenka and Katya. They were represented as strong characters but I could not see any character in either of them. Sad. My liking for a book – biased as it may be – depends a whole lot on women characters. But here, the women though play a vital role did not somehow come into the crust. Even Smerdyakov (I never thought I will get his spelling right) – the man servant at the father’s house has a stronger impact in fewer scenes. And Ilyosha… oh dear, when Ajayan Sir said it made him cry, I had no clue. But little Ilyosha, his miserable dad and mom and sisters and all those boys… gloom!

Well I didn’t plan to write anything on the book except that the whole thing was special to me. It being gifted most unexpectedly, the three weeks of reading it, the inevitable discussions next morning… I will remember this book forever for more reason than one.

Johnson Master

“I am Cris, Sir.”

“So the girl with you must be Pris (pointing to Anthrappan),” he joked. We laughed. I got his phone number to do an interview. When I called him later, he was coughing. “I am not so well today, call me tomorrow can you?”

But I didn’t call. And I never got to interview Johnson Master.

Anthrappan called me last night and told me in a breaking voice, “Johnson Master’s gone”. The first thought that crossed my mind was how will Amma take this? Even last day she was going on about how Johnson’s music with its ‘naadan shaili’ and Salil Choudhary’s remain her favourite. I was at the time excited about interviewing another all-time favourite Jerry Amaldev. Johnson Master is the next I’d interview, I decided. He was only 58, I had no clue life would so cruelly depart from one of the most melodious men so soon :-(.

It is not his songs that first endeared him to me. It is the background score of Thoovanathumbikal that Nish taught me and the two of us used to hum for hours. Lalala lalala… and then Namakku Paarkam Munthirithoppukal had an equally striking background score. It must be two strips of music I have most listened to in my MP3 Player.

But then eventually many songs I fell in love with was by Johnson Master.

Etho janmakalpanayil….
Swapnam verumoru swapnam….
Priyatharamaakum oru naadham…
Aadi vaa katte…
Kannukalil pooviriyum…
Swarnamukile…
Anuragini…   Ariyathe…..
Neram mangiya neram….
Kunnimanicheppu thurannenni nokkum neram…
Aakashagopuram…
Devangangal…. (somehow when I start singing this I end up in Anuragini… same ragam?)
Oonjaalurangi…
Maanathe vellitheril…
Enthe kannanithra karuppu niram…
Oru naal shubarathri…

Too many… wanted to write a tribute to him. But I am not sure how to do that. Really sad he stayed away from Malayalam music for long. We lost so many good songs. And so many more to have come. Will miss you lots Johnson Master.

Jim the blogling

I had no idea people liked this bummer here so much. Am talking about fancy pal Mr Jim. I shove him off the blog for awhile and I get queries about his well being. They say bring him back.

Jim: hee haa told you I was popular

Me: you! Didn’t I tell you this blog is off limits for you?

Jim: sorry dear they miss me. Apparently they don’t seem to show the same interest about you

Me: hey I am your creator!

Jim: ye ye my one handicap

Me: But seriously would you believe it – I dumped you for three years!

Jim: Says who? I ran away

Me: Yea? And I suppose you lived in someone else’s imagination?

Jim: Actually Cris, it is the other way around

Me: What do you mean?

Jim: I am the real one here and you were part of my imagination.

Me: Indeed?

Jim: Yes, you see there is a whole real world in blogosphere. You are external to it, you earthling. You are an alien here. I imagine you here.

Me: So you are a blogling?

Jim: Very much. In a blog world, lives bloglings like me. You earthlings don’t!

Me: Ha! So what are you going to do? Chuck me out?

Jim: Tempting, very. But you seem to miss the point. This is the moment of realization where you finally understand the truth. That you are no one here. You don’t belong here Cris!

Me: And you are overdoing it. Where are the other bloglings then?

Jim: In other people’s blogs of course. In yours, there’s only me. And occasionally the characters you drop in like old Al.

Me: Interesting.

Jim: Now Cris, if you don’t mind, I’d like some peace and quiet here. So I’d prefer it if you gave it a rest and came back much later.

Me: You are chucking me out of my own blog?

Jim: Don’t make me call our president.

Me: And who is that?

Jim: Prathibha Patil’s fancy pal

Me: Ah

Jim: I like to do things legally you see. So if you don’t comply, I call the authority.

Me: You have cops too in here?

Jim: Ye but only good ones.

Me: Why?

Jim: The bad ones don’t have time for fancy pals. Rather I hear they kill their own fancy pals.

Me: Can’t blame them

Jim: I will pretend to ignore that. We also have our own lawyers. I could file for blogo-defamation

Me: And put me in a blog jail

Jim: I might put you in blog-guillotine

Me: Heh… ve-very blog-funny Jim.

Jim: so you planning to stay?

Me: No. I remembered I have a busy life outside

Jim: Ha scared are ya? No worry I will see you later. I’d like to read what fancy-Rowling has created in her blog-fantasy novel.

Me: Woah you are complicating it.

Jim: Aren’t you off yet?

Me: I am! Adios

Jim: That takes care of her.

Love Marriage = Arranged Marriage

There really is no difference between love marriage and arranged marriage – in Kerala anyway. Now what was the line of thought that led me here? Let’s see. Hmm yea, yes… it is the absence of this concept called dating that makes it more or less the same.

You see in love marriage – as far as the Kerala version of it goes – what happens is this. Boy sees girl, boy likes girl, boy tells girl he loves her (not like) and so will she marry him? and girl, if she likes back, agrees. That’s the first step – proposal! Not very different from arranged marriage, where boy, with a bunch of relatives sees girl, agrees to marry if he likes her.

Both begin from marriage! When marriage should in fact be the final step, after you are sure you’d stand it all together. I don’t know who brought this way of things into being, and called it “love”. It is no love! If you like someone, you try to spend more time with them, and then maybe fall in love. But people have just abandoned the ‘like’ stage of it. You may like ten people, but you don’t fall in love with all. And you cant really marry all ten of them. Can you?

Dating should come. In a big way. It is the only way to make sure love is love and not some childish infatuation that ends up in divorce on day 2. Sheesh! When will we grow up!