A keen observer

Sony, indeed, is a sharp observer. Even as a boy, he was; a silent observer. He silently observed, when nobody else did, Jean teacher’s anger boiling before it spilled out to leave 5 red marks on Kochu Muthalali’s oily face. He observed, when nobody else did, the forecast of a massive heart attack on Magic Dancer’s face while the dancer was performing for us on stage. And he observed, when nobody else did, the abuse of “But” and “then” in my writing.

That's what I call keen observation. Thank you, Sony. With you, my friend, I can throw away my mirror.

But I think, the naturality is lost when you become conscious of your style as a writer. So I would rather let this style remain in me, like black moles on my forearms, or a small scar on my back (My identification marks as given in my SSLC Book), than becoming artificial.

But your comments mean a lot!

Deira Clock Tower,Dubai in Melbourne, Australia!!!

Wondering what's this?? Well, exactly what we saw last evening!!

Hey...hey....hold on..don't let your thoughts go wild!! Let me explain the scenario which lead me to write this blog!

Movie: Main Aur Mrs.Khanna
Starring: Salman Khan, Kareena Kapoor, Sohail Khan

We were watching the movie at Grand Cineplex. Was quite an OK movie, nothing too fablous about it. Beautiful locales, nice songs...Even the Melbourne Airport was quite nice to see. Then came up the intermission.

Right after the intermission, as usual, there was a twist in the movie and we were watching intently to see how the story would trun...the hero returns to Melbourne to see his wife and take her back with him to Singapore where he has secured himself a good job. Suddenly there's the Deira Clock Tower round-about being shown!! We even see the famous articulated RTA bus!!!

Wait-a-sec!! Wasn't the hero in Melbourne?? Where does the Deira Clock Tower come in then??

What a folly!! Did the director of the movie feel the audience would be idiots not to spot this?? This is so ridiculous!!

How could the director have surpassed this folly??? I wonder if this is the beginning of the downfall of Indian movies which is already in bad shape!! We needed a Danny Boyle to shoot a movie and  only then  did Rasool Pookutty and A R Rahman come to the international lime-light. What's wrong with the Indian directors?? Have they lost their ability to create a movie which can be of international standards?? Have they decided to make movies like Main Aur Mrs.Khanna with such disgraceful errors!!

Come on guys, I think we definitely need to raise our voices against such insanities. What's your say?? Would like to hear your comments on this.

മമ്മൂട്ടിയോ മോഹന്‍ലാലോ?

This is like a chicken or egg question. You many think you are entering into an intellectual exercise to prove your point, but all you do is “waste precious time”, I bet.

My friend, Aliyan Thambi is a self proclaimed hard core Mohanlal fan. But I seriously doubt he has soft corner for Mammooty. Anyway, I have made it a point ever since we met that I should always take the position opposite to him, no matter what. Though we shared all our inner secrets with each other right from school, we always kept this rivalry alive. When we are at peace, he sometimes tells me “I think we became close friends now”. I reply, looking at a distance and as slow as I can “You know what, I think we always were”. Then we go back to take our positions again.

Though I don the lungis of a Mammotty fan before him, I hate this entire fan fair. I feel like kicking their butt when I read about the envoy of Land Cruisers and Limousines on Dubai streets. “Idiots!” That’s how I flush out my anger (jealousy?).

My reason is, the moment you become a fan, you stereotype a talented actor. You only realize the tragedy, when you see the beggars coming your way. If you have a close look at them, your neurons might take you to the pages of "നാനാ”, “വെള്ളിനക്ഷത്രം” or “ചിത്രഭൂമി” stored in the cerebrum of your brain. They were once cheerful “Producers” of these formulaic superstar movies, the names of which even a hard core fan like Aliyan Thambi would prefer to forget.

Recently Mohanlal lamented, when some hooligans vandalized the sets of his movie in Aluva, about the loss it could make to an industry already under crisis. There is a crisis in Malayalam Film industry. I think it is not because of the advent of TV or pirated CDs. It is because of people like Aliyan Thambi, who go to theatres with banners, Peepees and chendas, just for their hero and not for the movie.

It appears to be harmless fun. But I disagree, not because Aliyan Thambi is on the other side (may be that's the primary reason). This human nature, to see things at its periphery without going deep inside, is the root cause of all major problems that we face today, for example Communalism, familial tensions, individual stress…..

That's why I tell it is neither Mammooty nor Mohanlal we should celebrate, it is the characters they play. We should go deeper inside.

In life, it is not the body that we should always think about for joy, we should have a little deeper insight. Our body is just a periphery, the real lasting joy comes from our soul.

Though he might need some digestive pills to take this philosophy in, I hope Aliyan Thambi will agree with me. After all, we have always been friends, real close friends!

My weekend ends here….. Till we meet again….. Peace be to you all!

Vazhipokkan, who ?

Dr. Feroz hates liars. He asks me why I should hide my real name. I tell him, I am not hiding my name, but I am just using a pen name. He is not convinced. He says he hates people giving comments anonymously. I hate that too. I want people to stand upright and look into my eyes when they talk.

There are threat mails from “Katha Kazhikkum” and “Paashanathil Krimi” in our group mail. Though it is fun, there is always a sense of desperation when human curiosity fails to be satisfied; ie., to find out who is behind something.

I regret the moment I decided to be a Vazhipokkan, but my intention then was to be a passer by to this site and drop some comments now and then, like what a jealous crow does when you wear a new shirt.

I almost give up on this idea of pseudonym. But Dr. Feroz is kind and soft hearted (ask anyone for proof, any of his patients, …. , any girl – in reverse order, for better results), so he finally gives his nod for me to hang out as a Vazhipokkan.

I guess, you all could recognize‌ me from my earlier post. Just in case you wanna be sure, Dr. Feroz is just an email away, not a mile away (that's his Gmail punch line). Also, he advises me

“ഉത്തരമില്ലാത്ത ചോദ്യങ്ങലെക്കാലും മറു ചോദ്യങ്ങളില്ലാത്ത ഉത്തരമാണ് നല്ലത്”.

I agree. What else do you think I can do?

An Email from Binu

When I posted my poem “The Magic Dancer” in this blog last night, I wanted Binu to read it, for it was he who introduced me into reading. But Binu has not become a follower of this blog yet. So I thought of sending him an invitation. Then I thought it was long since I had written to him. So I decided to write him an email.

In school his ambition was to read through James Hadley Chase. And inspired from it, he even wrote a short story on similar lines. I don’t remember the theme now, but I remember the girl’s name…. Cindy (some basic male instinct?)

Binu was our hero then. The best football (soccer - for our guys in the US) player we had till the idiot box fooled us to forget that game and adopt‌ cricket in its stead. Then he became our fastest bowler, who gave me some red bulges on my legs which emptied my grandma’s tiger balms.

He was the one, who introduced us to pop music and baggy pants; and he was remembered by all when Michael Jackson died (or was killed); For us Michael was Binu or at least his close relative, as reflected in Roopesh’s condolence email with the subject “Binu’s Brother in Law dies”. I guess Binu was not upset; he has no sisters (though he had silent teenage crushes, he never bothered to make them his sisters).

Binu, to me, walked ahead of time. May be we too did, walking beside him - that’s the diplomatic way of telling that we aged too early. I get this feeling, sometimes, when I put my thoughts across to my wife, who then looks at me as if she was listening to philosophy from her grandpa (though she does not remember looking at them in flesh and blood). The wonder that lingers in her eyes often‍ asks me “From which century are you, Mister?”

There is a reason why I tell Binu walked ahead of time. He read academic books on Allopathy when we were in 8th std and talked like a pro which inspired some of us to become Doctors (I was impressed too, but I had little confidence in me to imagine myself in Dr. Yousuf’s old gray suit).

Binu, together with Gokul and Feroz, thought about making a movie in 5th Std, which they named “Friends”. And I even wrote my first lyrics for our pop band BAG (Read Binu Ashfaque and Gokul) which we formed and wound up in 8th std. Coincidently, the name of the song was also “Friends”. Mmmm…. What else can you think for name, when you do something jointly at that age? Even Siddique-Lal thought the same way, many years later :) And a soap opera on HBO was also named after our original thought !!!! :)

I am afraid I will tire my hands if I start writing what Binu meant for us…..

I did not write much in my email which I sent him late last night. But I just attached three poems I wrote of late and dedicated to him with these words “To my friend with whom I began my intellectual pursuit”

And much to my delight and to add on to my nostalgic pain, I got a reply from him today early in the morning (if you can call 9 AM on a weekend that way).

He wrote :
“You made me very emotional my friend. It took me to a time when we were walking aimlessly along kottamaidhanam. Time between 1985 to 1989. God is Great! He has given human beings feeling of nostalgia……..”

The Magic Dancer

The Magic Dancer came on stage
With a whitened face, and a glittering golden sleeveless attire.
Making stiff moves to the Jhankar beats,
He showed the crowd many a trick in as many moves.

To the dancing tune, he held up his hand
And brought it down with a flower at its tip.
He stretched the flower to turn it a stick
And with every twirl he doubled the stick.

“Magic Dancer……” cried the crowd.
It is the glitter in their eyes that makes him move.
For lack of confidence could dampen his drive
And a moment of distraction could ruin his show.

Many more tricks he showed his crowd
Without failing his dancing steps.
Some watched his feat with utmost awe,
While others thought it’s no big show.

Cruelest indeed are those eyes; which fail
To see the years he toiled to perfect his act.
Those eyes haunt him when he leaves the stage
But he moves on till the last glitter fades….

A small story with a mighty moral - take a read and send in your comments :)

A group of graduates, well established in their careers, were discussing their lives at a class reunion. They decided to go visit their old university professor, now retired, who was always an inspiration to them.


During their visit, the conversation turned to complaints about stress in their work, lives and relationships.

Offering his guests hot chocolate, the professor went into the kitchen and returned with a large pot of hot chocolate and an assortment of cups. Some cups were porcelain, glass, crystal, some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite. He invited each to help themselves to the hot chocolate.

When they all had a cup of hot chocolate in hand, the professor shared his thoughts.

“Notice that all the nice looking, expensive cups were taken, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones.”


“While it is normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress.”

“The cup that you are drinking from adds nothing to the quality of the hot chocolate. In most cases it is just more expensive and in some cases even hides what we drink.”

“What each of you really wanted was hot chocolate. You did not want the cup . . . but you consciously went for the best cups.”

“And soon, you began to eye one another’s cups.”

“Now friends, please consider this . . .

“Life is the hot chocolate . . .your job, money and position in society are the cups.”

“They are just tools to hold and contain life.”

“The cup you have does not define, nor does it change, the quality of life you are living.”

“Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the hot chocolate Life has provided us.”

Always remember this . . . . . . . . . . Life brews the hot chocolate, It does not choose the cup.


The happiest people don't have the best of everything.

They just make the best of everything that they have!!

Live simply . . . Love generously . . . Care deeply . . .Speak kindly . . .

Leave the rest to Life. ~ and remember ~ The richest person is not the one who has the most, but the one who needs the least.

Enjoy your Hot Chocolate!!
 

Let's blog!!

Hi buddies,

The much awaited blog is now here. Mighty Michalites '89 - yes..we are the mighty Michaelites of batch '89 :)

Let's turn this blog to be something momentous, something informative, something interactive,....
Don't forget to leave your comments and suggestions. Your comments and suggestions are extremely vital to keep the blog alive and kicking :)
Remember, small drops make the mighty ocean.
Let's blog, buddies....