Mechilpuram

The Kiosk There was a kiosk next to where I sat at the food court.  It offered Banana Avil Milk.  The kind of stall that looks inevitable inside a mall: a lit-up counter, an overhead TV running its commercial - where a bearded actor whipped up avil milk and handheld gifts - akin to Kinder Joy's, in a yellow egg for excited kids. The person at the counter had his phone out. No customers came while I watched. None left either. Visible in plain sight, with its distinctive yellow branding, standing upright, a glance and it's out of sight, as you make your way. And I thought: what actually holds this together? What does a person have to believe, or risk, to set something like this up? What are the costs? What are the targets? What happens to the founder, to the person at the counter, to the kiosk itself? Musings I kept eating, lazily people-watching. People moving in and out of frame. Somewhere between one bite and the next, I started thinking about how something like this actuall...

An image of our Sunday School hall on Fridays Fridays. The actual start to the weekend, as opposed to the jumpstart that was Thursday evenings Friday meant one thing. Church. Oh boy, I was not a fan, especially the getting ready part The day would begin at 5:30 am when Amma would wake up and prepare tea for us. Being Christians, we don't have food before church. So the tea was the only thing keeping us up until Sunday School snacks (more on that soon!) I was the non-grumbly type that took two calls from Amma (sitting in the hall) to wake up. Eyes shut, brushing my teeth away. My brother was the one who extracted maximum effort from my parents to finally open his eyes. Amma would keep calling out his name, each call increasing in intensity and finally when she conceded defeat, Acha would enter the ring. My brother could really test our parents' patience hehe. Since Acha is the no-nonsense type with a soft liking to him, it would take some soft words to finally cajole him into wa...

An image of my hall, with people erased from it Here goes a tale from childhood, when Thursday meant the world for me as a kid in Dubai Skipping the morning ritual of going to school, we would be back by 2:30 pm or so back home. Stowing the schoolbag away under the desk-table - never to be seen until Saturday morning was written in the story, though Amma never approved of that The best part of the day at school, would be having Art or Music classes, where we would be engrossed in drawing a line or two or singing out of tune to leave my music teacher Mr.Tully red-faced. The art teacher Mr. Geoffrey, was a strict person - so there would be no way out of this, though art was'nt my forte. Huddling together to fill in the dotted lines or coloring the pre-drawn picture never meant much. We had to take Faber Castell coloring sets to school! Losing one of them color pencils would be unthinkable After having a rice lunch consisting of Thursday-special chicken curry (courtesy of Amma). The n...

I wanted to share this capture of a lighthouse that I took yesterday  As we locked eyes; in the dark, she stood tall and majestic in the distance, in it’s own right. Lighthouses may have lost their relevance over time, but people still stop by when they see one and take in its grandeur for a wee moment, even with the hubris behind them. Armed with a will to weather even the strongest of storms and disasters, it maintains it's robustness, thwarting away each challenge and standing unperturbed. It's a beacon of hope, a navigator for the men of seas during choppy weather and a marvel in its own right. She was like a lighthouse, yet so impressionable. Someone who liked to hug the waves, but stood lonely during the nights - with a fire blazing within.  This piece is for her, even though we might never cross paths again. I hope that this lighthouse gives you the hope that you seek for.

Musings It's Thursday night in Al Satwa, Dubai and you don't want to do anything better than curling up on your setee with a BluRay disc playing the movie that came out two years ago, alongside a bowl of crisps and some cold orange juice to wash it down with. Thursday night signaled the start to the weekend.   How simpler were those days? You either caught the hottest movies at the theater during their run time or just sat patiently, waiting for it's disc to hit the neighborhood video store. It was pure ecstasy to catch a Mohanlal movie sitting there on the shelf, just waiting to be picked up. At this point, I’d like to recount an incident from 2006–2007, when renting a CD happened once in a blue moon. It was a cool weekend night, and we were all cooped up in front of the TV to watch whichever movie Acha had brought home. Mind you, it was an unofficial CD, with just the movie’s name written in blue marker pen. **Drumrolls please** we ended up watching Thanmathra that night...

Sunday - meant Church A soundtrack that I would like to associate with Sundays, is that of Varnapakittu’s.  It’s tracks are beautiful and I remember returning back from church on rainy Sundays to watch it on Asianet, as the sky grew dark and getting ready to eat freshly made breakfast after church, riding on our Maruti Alto. It was all smiles back then, when the kid would flick the TV on and lounge on the couch, carrying my frame to watch some frames. After breakfast meant a short siesta for the elders. After lunch meant a royal siesta. Young me would be on the couch tuning into Asianet Movies and other random programs that Asianet used to air during it’s non-peak hours on Sunday afternoons. It's bliss to recall the names of movies that I was able to catch during those time slots - Thoovanathumbikal being an example. Just tuning in to be dazed by the frames. Nothing to worry about. The scene between Jayakrishnan and Madhavan, in the temple courtyard is one frame that still lives re...

It’s raining cats and dogs in Bengaluru today. Having binged on a few “Appupan and the Boys” episodes and a bath later, I was ready to head to church, with the rains overshadowing a small fear on my plans.  No tip, no auto A tip and 3 minutes later, my auto anna whisked me off to St George Orthodox Church, Indranagar. Carefully made my steps up and down the stairs. A fear inside that I’m at risk of tripping with my formals Attending my first Pesaha in Bengaluru, it was satisfying to attend in unity with others at the church. Having a prayer book (in Manglish) did help my cause, or otherwise I would be standing mute The after qurbana ritual is to hail the nearest auto. It was still raining 5 minutes, 10 minutes later….. no. Church goers milling around me to grab dinner while I retreated to the church’s car park to book my auto Making the frankly courageous decision to walk all the way home was the last thing on my mind, but being new to church and having eyes cast on my hair do dete...

 16 March 2020. A date that will stay with me forever. A cold eerie dawn with an undertones of uncertainty. The day we made our way out of hostel, with the backdrop of the Covid Virus threat. Lockdown came a week later. It was like in the movies. Being smuggled out in the shadows of the dark. The narrative made it look like so (in a funny afterthought), but we had our flights in the morning Me and my friends were helped by the local driver, and got cooped up in a typical Omni van, on the way to Indore Airport. We were flying towards different directions. A fear within that I may never meet them again. Through the vast highway connecting Indore-Bhopal, our Rahul bhaiya sped on, the journey interspersed with some swathes of the Yellow/Orange streetlights that we are familiar with. Casting their long and eerie shadow on the deserted roads and lending an appearance that would add to my feelings of uncertainty. I could'nt fathom that we were travelling on a road that connected multiple ...

It's storytime... 4 pm rolled around today, and like most lazy Sundays with a Manchester United game ahead, I decided to order coffee and snacks from Swiggy Cafe 15 uneventful minutes later, a Swiggy partner glides by with my order and stops. Striding over, the partner handed me my order, mid-call and struck up a conversation with me, enquiring about my home state and language (juggling in both broken Kannada and Hindi can be tough with partners, leading to this interaction). Upon knowing that I hailed from Kerala, I saw a warm smile light up his face and he enthusiastically told me that he admired Dulquer Salman's movies. Hailing from Odisha himself, I guessed that he loved DQ's dubbed movies - which span across varied genres. What followed was a dazed walk back to my abode, with a smile on my face - as the partner glided away, now lost amongst the narrow lanes, on his way to don the role of a superhero, helping subside the tea-time and hunger pangs of fellow earthlings li...

Musings Nestled within the forested tops of the Western Ghats, a Rifle Club lays await - to celebrate life and the thrill of a hunt, dispersed with a flair to lay waste. Rifle Club surely marks Aashiq Abu's small win from the setback of Neelavelicham and the man can make a living out of cinematography, if he can't lay hands on a good script during the offseason. However, a visual treat can't make up for a lacking screenplay or fitting dialogues to create an aura around a movie. Co-written by Syam Pushkaran , Sharfu ( of the  Suhas-Sharfu duo), Dileesh Karunakaran and Aashiq (the first two whose body of work speak for themselves), this screenplay may not be up there as a best piece of work, because of a lack of impactful dialogues, unnecessary elevation of Anurag Kasyhap's villain character and a overall sense of pretentiousness hanging about in the air. Despite the second half being a letdown - the fun vibe, a sense of thrill and the drip maintained throughout the f...