Friday, November 9, 2012

Betty's Umbrella

It was graduation ceremony and even though they got out on time it seemed like they were getting late for the gathering. All the girls from her hostel wore the most propitious clothes. Even the ugly ones wore nice clothes and added many different colors to their face. The short girl with yellow top looked sick while the larger ones were bright and presentable in a strange manner or so it seemed to Betty who also did her best to look good. Lip-stick was not favorable as she thought it accentuated her buck teeth which she always tried hard to conceal using a weird expression which gave her permanent stretch marks and a forlorn expression. It made her appear more lost and friendless than she actually was but it made her look prettier than she thought herself to be.

They met the boys near the large tree next to the bus park and instantly Betty was lost in the crowd. Her tall friend screamed with excitement as she met her fat friend.The loud talks and sighs of ecstasies with occasional expressions of " no da macha" seemed to put her behind a curtain. The curtain was woven out of her own intellect where she knew she was better than the others and from a terrible sense of inferiority derived from her thorough understanding of self. 

The big city was a retreat, an escape, a feeble attempt to rediscover herself as she wanted to. She did not belong there and she knew it. Betty considered herself to be well read and arrogant. She always thought of herself as the more radical one, the extremist and she chose to hang out with a loud and obnoxious crowd. This was in part due to her desire to stay visible and in doing so, the one whom she chose to like was all very wrong for everyone. She did not approve of his behavior either, but still she liked his rebellious streak. She even realized that underneath all that immature display of machismo he might be a meek idiot but the streak of rebellion was what turned her on. Sanity was never her companion.

Her college in the big city was bustling with life… the change of pace was visible in the daily traffic and even the weather which was hotter and sunnier like her home town down south. However, unlike in her townish village, it was cool to be hip and speak English in the big city.
Boys were better dressed. Even the ones from her place wore trendy clothes and some spotted a beard to cover those chubby cheeks. This made them feel new and acceptable as they tried to shed their image of being pretentious, sex starved, hypocrites which they still were.


There was someone from her village she used to like. He studied in the big city before her and spotted a beard when he came back for Christmas. This time they made out at his place, full of fondling and sweet awkwardness. He had since  moved on from ill fitting pants to T-shirt and jeans and on the next Christmas , he fondled her at an internet cafĂ© at their townish village. On the following Christmas, he ditched her after they had sex. Since he thought it was not right and god would punish them and most of all, he “wanted to move on in life.” He wanted to settle down. ‘That kid was only 22’, thought Betty all of eighteen. This Christmas was his wedding and Betty was 22.

Betty had since hated the many men from her town though they were always revered by elders for how good they were. Why were they the nice ones when they slapped her when she was ten, abused her when she was fourteen, ridiculed her when she was sixteen and abandoned her when she was eighteen.

The celebrations were loud and boring and the crowd showed more excitement than they could muster. It was a sad day for all the messy couples and dear friends were upset about parting ways. Few tears were shed. The younger ones appreciated them elders who had an year back given them many sleepless nights and nightmares. The elders revered their teachers whom they ridiculed for being incompetent six months back and those teachers in turn praised all those students some of whom they had failed few days back and some of whom they hated with all their hearts. So after a whole evening was lost with everyone praising everyone else, they headed for the pub where they discussed about politics, counter culture, moral policing and call centers. All very relevant topics. A few tried to dance while few tried to persuade others to dance which made it uglier and as night grew late they all parted ways after more hugs, tears, bad singing of old songs to celebrate those old times and several sincere promises to stay in touch. 

Betty slipped out of the pub along with her friends. She did not cry but she did laugh harder than usual at all the fun bits. Few of them told Betty how much they would miss her. Betty smiled as usual. She would not miss any of them.

On the cab she thought hard about it and could not find anything that she would miss. She was not upset or emotional, she would not even miss her rebellious friend. She did not miss her folks while she was here, she did not miss anyone. She did not feel upset about not seeing her friends, the ones with her in the cab, anymore. She thought hard and thought she did not like anyone to start with. That cannot be true. She liked them all dearly but she was still not sad. She liked the big city and the college and all the life she had there. Now that was about to be over and she was still not upset about it which seemed weird. 

She reached the hostel and those thoughts were still with her while she took a shower. As she lay in her bed she hugged a stained orange pillow and without the slightest thought she began to cry. She did not think of anything or anyone as tears rolled down her cheek. The unpleasant smell from the pillow felt strangely comforting. It felt so comforting that this ugly orange pillow was more beloved to her then than anyone she had ever met. If someone were to take that pillow from her she would be devastated.

Still lying awake, Betty felt the weight of the ugly pillow against her head. It seemed to weigh hard on her... it weighed on her conscience. She felt young and innocent as she closed her eyes and and  through a thin veil of tears she thought she could see all the clarity and purpose of an adult.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Our very special nice song...



Beautiful, yet not so popular Malayalam song.

Used to watch this song on television with my sister and we loved this song a lot. It was one of those in-home hits that others did not know about or appreciate.

It was not so popular in the sense that none of my friends had heard this song, but we found this hugely melodious and appealing. Remember trying to tell all those juke box kind of people, the musical anoraks around us, about such a song. The lyrics ‘Anpin Thumpum Vaalum’ did not register any sense with them, or even with me, only that it sounds sweet. So they ask me to sing it, so they can identify the song from the "tune", and then, as my untrained voice tries to indulge in some rhythmic rendition, they just burst out laughing. It could be the lack of any background instruments or more probably a lack of any melody in my voice... but they did have a good laugh at my expense.

Finally I found it on the WWW, and I want the whole $%^&ing world to know about this song, at least the few ppl I know...

I had goggled and YouTube-searched for this song many times before, so many years before. Yet today morning as I got up, the first thing I did was to search once again (pretty jobless here), I had thought of different spellings to use, but the first vague stuff I typed returned the YouTube video for this song... and that almost made my day...

Watching this song brought back some memories of the not so distant times when I came home on weekend and watched television with my sister, while momma was cooking our lunch and our grandmother, well she can be at different places simultaneously, but we can always hear her shouting in the background. Sometimes we hear her asking the dog to shut-up although we rarely hear the dog itself.

This song was mostly played in the afternoon. The probability of watching this song together was very remote. it should be played on a weekend when we returned home, and at a time when we were at home, we have to agree on the same channel. Grandmother, the resident cricket buff and viewer of most crappy soap and reality show should not have the remote, in which case there could be a fight, very close to fist fight and some tears. More importantly, this being my beautiful house on a little village on top of a little hill, there should be electricity.

Power cuts at home are more frequent than illiterate idiots being voted to power where they can then decide on when and for how long each one of us should live without electricity. Then there is the cable TV network and our cable guy, rather the cable over-lord, Manu, who has attached this network using some strings instead of regular cables and stapled it inside a not so water tight PVC piping so that even a dark cloud could render the cable network useless.

Even so, in spite of all these adversities, I remember several weekends when we were together and were able to watch this song together, keeping quiet until the song ended and marveling at how different it was and how soothing it felt.

This was not the only song we held this feeling for, there are several other songs, one being Lucky Ali's , ‘gori theri aanken’...

This is a pretty pointless article befitting a pointless blog, but just listen to the song, it is beautiful... now I am listening to it with my lil one, trying to tell him how 'appachi' and me used to listen to this song...

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Shenanigans of Divinity II

This is another feeble attempt to translate a beautiful and brilliant song/poetry by  Prof. Madhusoodhanan Nair from the movie Daivathinte Vikrithikal (Gods mischief’s) based on a story of the same title by M. Mukundan. The post title ‘Shenanigans of Divinity’ seemed a suitable alternate expression for the movie name.


From the deep slumbers of darkness you wake me to the colors of life
You gave a sky for my wings, and on a branch in your soul, you gave me a nest.

Wherever but here could you smell so sweet; in every little flower, in the softest breeze?
Where also can I find you as this river; which brims with every drop of my life as I melt in?
Wherever but here can I find this sky that blooms when you spread as a petal of dreams?

When the little nightingale cries; when the narrow stream stops her lullaby
Where mercy is lost, when time trembles,
I bind my heart in yours; and it is in you that I seek refuge

Can’t part from your heart, May paradise call…
Cant part from your soul, let heaven seek...

To melt in the depth of your soul…as I perish,  is my paradise

To remain in you... is eternal truth

The protagonist in the movie, Father Alphonse (played brilliantly by the versatile and charming actor Raghuvaran), is a French native and a successful magician living in Mayyazhi (French Mahe) in Kerala. The French colonial influence ends and the settlers leave for their homeland.

As the siren for the last ship to France sounds, his wife Maggie (Srividhya) tries to persuade Alphonse to leave for France, where they belong. The siren acts a final call from destiny for all success and prosperity that awaits them in France. However, Father Alphonse refuses to leave Mayyazhi.

The end of colonial rule also marks a new dawn for an oppressed, unjust and yet vibrant society that burgeons with madness. While Father Alphonse and his family stay back in Mayyazhi, failure and poverty bejewel their life as they try in vain to be part of a reclassified society which disowns them with derision, much to the dismay of Father Alphonse. In his angst he develops a deep sense of resentment towards his self and refuses to accept the reality, which in his case, is that he is no longer the successful, much admired French man in Mayyazhi, but an impecunious vagrant who is no longer required in this society. He seeks refuge in alcohol and leads a secluded life confining himself to his world of magic which he holds dear to life.

The song is about his unrequited love for the beautiful sea cost of Mayyazhi; the love for which he had to forsake every reason, every virtue of happiness and all that he ever was.

Someone with a better understanding of both languages should do a better translation of this song.