Friday, September 16, 2011

Love Letter To The Angry Madarasan





Dear Beautiful aand Very Angry Madarasan,

I am nice tamil pullai from Bombaai. I am ketai nakshatram, vadulya gotram… I am from chittoor in palaghat.  I am just like that only zending you some dedails so dhaat you caaan cheg with youaar vaadiyaar if see eef you aaand I caan get alang.  Aaas friends only… naat faar marriage sake okay. So don’t misunderstand me. you know it is better to tell gotram minnadiye, to avoid any painful fights dhaat iyer pullais and iyengaar ponnus or kaveri tanni and  palaghat beople haav. 

I wand to dell you little moor about myself. Liszen okay.

I haav lived in matunga and chembur which is like the mini madras of this mad rush called bombaai. All my atthai’s and atimbers, and chittis and chittapaas and paata and paatis and all the maamas and maamis are from heer only. But zome 3 generations baak they haad migrated from their ooru in south India. It must be near your place only. I haav so many yegstended reladives ovher there, you know.  When we meet in zome kalyaanam with over other reladives, we discover oft-ten dhaat the beople I used to gaal my friend is aactually reladive. You know no. our paati’s and paataas haaad some 7-10 kuttigal. They made more kuttigal. Some fought. Aaand they got zaperated. And now O my gaad, we gould be gouzins. When we draw family trees, It can get embaarasing. Who wants to realize dhaat you aar doing your own gousin.

You would be glaaaad  to know,  dhaat I thrive on masala dosai and idli vadai.. if there is sambaar- then sooper. when I go oud with my amma and appa I go to madras café or myzore café in matunga only okay. Or even brindavan in chembur. Or mani’s lunj home in sion. tho i haav been only in bombay aal my life. i should be more marathi illaiyaa? so? 

And yaa.,.. i go do tembles. and loove mallaigai poo vaasanai. i aalso lige going to tembles like sabari malai aaand guruvaayur. all my faaamily members are graduates or bost graduates from IIT. engineeering is in my blooddu. 

and you are what? reporter.. illaiyaa? besh-besh.. adum nalla profession dhaan. 
I aam in awe of your writing skills. I may agree or disagree with your comments. But let me dell you like that only – you-aar post is awe-zome.

Anna girl, dake a chill-pill, I say. I know dhaat the delhi-pullai will be yennywayz drowning in shame. May be idd iss naat about delhi but about yeah bartigular pullai.. that made you make such morbid generalizations. Delhi is not all dhaat bad. All delhi pullais are not so sad. You know, I haav a lot of awesome beebal of delhi origin. aaand they are lovely beoble. i aalzo had a general view about all delhi pullaigal at one boint aaf time. but i feel now dhaat i was being too rigid with my generalizations. 

You know my reladives aaand zome aaf my glose friends aalso dislige youar post. They mighd get aangry with me aalzo. But, what-to-do gril.. I love you-aar post as much aaas I love my delhi-loving-fair-pullai and friends.

I am bidding you good baai.

Achhah.. varein..

Aiyoo abushtam!!!… poiyittu varein kittaya …


(And in Punjabi style,
Bending  half only to touch your knees)
Paai laagu madarasan! :) 

Youaars tair chaadam loving iyer gousin from bombaai, (bossibility is theer, illayaa?)

Chitoor Venkateshwara Ramakrishna Harish Vishwanath Iyer








P.S. This is in response to this original open letter to a delhi boy  by Shahana 


glossary for my north indian pullais and ponnus also. esp.. delhi pullais


vaadiyaar : priest , ponnu : girl, pullai : boy, atthai : bua, atimber : bua's hubby, paata : dadaji, paati: daadima, chitti : mausi, chitappa : mausa, kalyanam : marriage, kuttigal : kids, malligai poo vaasanai : the aroma of jasmine flower, aiyoo abustam : bad omen, varein : coming/ jaata hu, poiyuttu varein kittaya : jaake aata hu, tair chadam : curd rice, illaiya : isnt it? 

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

speaking up... weaning out



A curious stranger in train recognized me and asks me if he could have a word with me in private.

We got down at the next station and sat on the railway bench.





He initiated the conversation with a tremble of happiness in his voice.

It was like he has seen some happy ghost like casper or so.

He knew much abt me, much about me.

- my blogs, my love, my education...

...Everything.




I was kind of amazed by the way he spoke about me.

I was obviously flattered and pleasantly shocked.


I wondered what was it that he wanted to tell me more.

Did he ask me to get down with him so that he could just tell me that he has read about me.... ??? So wandered my mind.
When I was abt to leave he suddenly opened his buttons to reveal a scar.
His father had beaten him when he refused sex with him.
And I was the first person to know about it.- a stranger.He in his 20s and living by himself now.

Smart, young, straight and handsome.

Before we Hug a good bye - he quotes me..
"The greatest pleasure of life is not finding someone to speak to, but finding someone to listen. "
He wanted me to share. So, the post. 

YUPP! My posts invite and incite a lot of attention.
and the endless name calling starts.
Popularity comes with a prize. Me and my loved ones pay it everyday.
(O! i'm almost sounding like a martyr. Which i actually am not :) lol)



But I wonder, had I not shared,
Had I not spoken,
Had I not lived life inside out,
this one boy,
like many others I have met ever since i opened up, 

may be would have not mustered the courage to speak up and share their innermost well-kept secrets.


Guess i know the sound of silence. it is deafening
Yes, I know how it feels to be quiet and
So, do I say - it is important to share.

It's good to believe that the world is beautiful. Indeed it is.
But like the cliché goes... Chaand mein bhi daag hota hai...

And nothing comforts a bleeding heart, than a heart that's weaned out the pain....

Hai naa?

Friday, September 02, 2011

A Kind Heart

sometimes you pray so strongly that it manifests itself in action. 

on wednesday, i set out on a lunch date with 2 of my pals. 
my bag was open. and my wallet found its way out of my bag. 

i had some money. and some  credit cards, debit cards. but more than all of it, i had some very fond memories stored and associated with my wallet. 

i called up Shiv like i always do when i am in crisis. 
he was praying then. he heard me out and said - you will get it. kattayamma kadaikum (you will definitely get it). he also advised me to not block my cards in haste, as he just so strongly felt that strongly. 

i wondered how   could be so sure that i would get my wallet that i lost on wednesday with credit cards and cash back. i didnt take the risk. i blocked my cards.  

and today, on friday, i get a call from an absolute stranger- Mr. Shinde who found my wallet. Now this man, Mr. Shinde, is a man in his 60's-70's. he found my credit and debit cards. he called up my debit/credit card bank for my number... he then chanced upon my office identity card which had my office number. 

he called me just now. he verified the details. and told me to collect my card.

it is so easy to get enticed by the lure of money. he did not have to  resist the temptation... how could he resist... when he wasnt tempted at all?

such is the power of positive belief. Especially when you pray for someone other than yourself. And so strongly. 

Thank you Mr. Shinde for returning my wallet. you might not be on FB but this would reach you. this had to be shared. i will share it. kindness kindles kindness... and the wave of kindness  shall spread its tentacles far and wide. 

Shiv, I thrive on your positivism. 
needless to say
thank you for being you. :) thank you.. and love you for this. :)

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